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teddybeartoji · 2 months

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彡 A MASSIVE PILE OF GUILT

☆. contains: tooru oikawa x gn!reader; this is called angst i think (with comfort), reader plays volleyball and oikawa comforts them after they lost a match, reader talks badly about themselves:( i'm sorry, they swear they're just really really good friends but they're also just fucking stupid wc: 4k

in the blink of an eye the loud screams and cheers transform into a disgusting mix of muffled noises in your ears. the lights are too bright and you feel like you're stuck to the ground; stuck under hundreds pairs of eyes. you can't move, you can't breathe. your arm stings, a painfully clear reminder of your fuckup.

you should've had it, you saw it coming, you had a plan and yet - here you are, watching the colorfol ball hit the wall of the big arena with a quiet thud!. your eye twitches, locked onto the missed oppurtunity in a form a sphere sit metres away from you and your teammates.

because of you.

like a statue; turned into stone, you stand in your awkward position, unable to comprehend that it's over. that it's really over. it feels like everybody is looking at you, cursing you in their own heads. is this what drowning feels like? even if you could open your mouth to try and save yourself with a big breath of air, the stifling stench of losing would surely just make you choke harder.

a palm slaps onto your shoulder and you don't have to look at the person to know who it is – a dejected captain trying to pick up their loved teammates. you can't look at them; how could you? they're trying to cheer you up while you're the sole reason you lost in the first place. they give you a squeeze, a silent plea for you to snap out of it and you comply, not wanting to humiliate them any more.

you did well!

an arm around your shoulder, you're being dragged away from the court and you taste blood – the result of biting into the soft skin of your inner cheek in order to surpress a cry. the lights are too bright and you just want out.

after the handshakes and the formalities are done, your coach gives you all a pep talk. not that it helps but what else is there to say right now. you eat in almost complete silence; the only sounds in your ears being the chewing and the crying.

you've yet to do that. your lip wobbles and your eyes are red but so far, no tears. but you know you will – it'll be the only thing you'll be doing after you've locked yourself away into your room.

good game!

you feel sick. the food in your mouth is starting to taste like vomit and the water isn't helping either. still, you refuse to stop. refuse to raise your eyes from your table to ask whether you can leave. you will sit there as long as the others do and you won't complain. you will eat the food just like the others do and you won't complain. you don't get to do that.

the hugs feel just as suffocating as the eyes. you've never felt this bad in your whole entire life. you feel bad for thinking that the hugs feel suffocating – they're literally trying to comfort you and you're blatantly refusing it. stupid. stupid. stupid.

everyone has their own things they do after a loss. some like to be alone, some like to go for a run, some like to beat the fuck out of a punch bag and some like to do watch a comedy film with their teammates. it's silly; none of them laugh during it anyway. but it helps. you know it does because you've done it with them – not this time though. and they don't pressure you; they're not stupid, they understand how it feels. you need a moment and they will give it to you.

your captain does sit you down for a second before letting you go though, calmly telling you how it wasn't your fault and how you'll get it next time. and it sucks. it sucks that you don't hear it... it sucks that nothing will make this feeling go away. you know it and your captain knows it.

their warm hand resting on your back does soothe the shivers that have been tormenting you ever since you lost the ball. and for the first time since that moment, you crane your neck, raising your heavy head to meet their eyes and now you do feel like crying. the sadness is there, but so is the same warmth, the same adoration one has for their loved ones. nobody is upset with you, nobody blames you. their hand rises from your back and goes up to ruffle your hair as you let your head fall against their chest. "you're okay."

they hold you close as your tears soak their shirt. you hear a loud sigh and you know they're holding back theirs. the shivers are back and you hiccup out a broken i'm sorry, which makes the captain pull away immediately and grab your shoulders.

"don't. it wasn't your fault. it wasn't. you can cry as much as you want but that? you're not allowed to do that." there's a certain determination in their glassy eyes and you have no other choice but to weakly nod your head before letting it fall again.

"by the way, i saw you not eat properly, so i'm keeping an extra eye on you tomorrow morning, okay?" they poke your cheek and you're thankful. "i'm gonna watch the movie with the others but i'm keeping my phone close by, so if you want company at any time, just let me know."

you raise your head back up, desperate to show your appreciation for them and nod again, cracking the world's smallest and saddest smile and they ruffle your hair again before standing up. "you're okay."

they close the door behind them and you take a minute to compose yourself. you can't seem to stop your hands from shaking though and it makes you angry. your now empty room is too quiet and your own reflection in the window is taunting you with an ugly expression. is that really how you look like right now?

you don't wanna know and you don't want to keep looking at it either. so you grab your hoodie and your wallet and make your way to the lobby of the hotel. maybe the reflection in the vending machine won't be so mean.

and it isn't. it's not mean at all. it's the exact opposite actually. from the fact that it's staring at you with rather soft eyes to the fact that it's not your own reflection.

"good game, right?" you scare yourself with your own voice – already so harsh and raspy. it comes out mean and you wince. you tear your eyes from his, focusing on the sweet drink that's locked behind the glass instead.

oikawa is never this quiet and it makes you want to hit him. make a joke. just do it. just do it already. but he doesn't. his steps are quiet as he goes to lean on the vending machine. he's nothing if not observant; he sees your shaky hands pressing the buttons with so much effort; how the lips that are usually pulled into a beautiful grin he loves so much are now wobbling, ready to spill all of your sorrows. your clenched jaw as you try to avoid his gaze for whatever reason.

please, look at me.

the vending machine dings as the mechanics push your drink to you. his eyes are unforgiving and you know he means well. you know he's not gonna make fun of you, he's not gonna tease you – not now. but you still feel ashamed, whether he says the joke or not; the joke has already been made and it's right here, standing in front of a stupid pink vending machine.

your head shakes on it's own, casting shame on yourself on it's own. the drink falls with a loud thud! but before you can kneel down to get it, a hand on your wrist stops you.

his hand is so warm and it's unusual, considering he tends to be cold almost always. he doesn't push you and let's you take a deep breath before you raise your eyes to his.

if his heart wasn't shattered before, it sure is now. your eyes are red and glassy, but mostly tired, so tired. there's no glint in them, dull and sad. his hand slips from your wrist to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. "you did well."

your head falls back as you choke out a broken laugh. "oh, fuck off. i don't wanna fucking hear that. it makes me sick." staring at the ceiling, you shake your head again as if to rid of the words from your mind.

oikawa feels useless. he's been in your situation and yet, he can't think of anything good to say. he remembers how much he hated whenever people said that to him after their loss to karosuno. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat; everything he comes up with just makes him feel even more sick. he wants to cry because he doesn't know how to comfort you. how to make it all better.

"do you want me to stay with you?"

that's the best he can come up with. maybe just his presence will be enough when his words clearly aren't. but when you shake your head again, his heart sinks.

"that's alright. let's uh– ... tomorrow, yeah?" bringing your eyes down from the ceiling, you try to give him a reassuring smile that says i'm fine but it obviously doesn't work. you see the hurt in his eyes and you just feel bad. you feel bad for everything. you're upsetting people even off the court. you just can't help it can you?

"i'm good. i just need to be alone right now." you try again, squeezing his hand. his mouth opens but another voice cuts him off.

"oikawa!"

from around the corners emerges an angry looking iwaizumi. "here you fucking are. coach said it's bed time—"

when his eyes travel from his troublesome best friend over to yours, he swallows his words in an instant. you see the remorse wash over his face and you kind of want to laugh. it's all too funny in a fucked up way. "sorry for interrupting. hey, that was a really goo—"

good game!

he stops himself. fuck. what do you say in this situation?

"good game, i know. maybe next time it'll be a great one, hm?" the bitterness just oozes out of you without your consent, making iwaizumi wince. you feel bad.

pulling your hand from oikawa's, you kneel down to finally grab your nearly forgotten drink. "it's okay, really. i know what you mean."

another weak smile. a pathetic one. "see you at breakfast, yeah?"

oikawa shoving iwaizumi is the last thing you see as you're making your way back to your room. your hands still haven't stopped shaking and opening the door is so fucking hard. the key card slips from between your fingers—

breathe... in...

and out...

you kneel down and pick it up in slow motion as you're tunnel visioning on just getting inside the room. you hear the click! and you burst in, slamming the door shut. the ugly reflection is back and it's laughing at you and you can't do it anymore. your knees buckle from under you, hitting the soft carpeted floor as you weep. hunched over, you just look like a big pile of guilt.

clutching at your heart through your shirt, you cry and you cry, taking in raggedy breaths just to let out pathetic little sounds. everything hurts – your knees, your arms, your head, your eyes, your fingers, your legs, your inner cheek. you pretty much crawl to the bathroom, grabbing a handful of tissues before plopping right back down onto the floor. your nose hurts, too.

for almost an hour – you don't move from your spot, rooted and rotting into the carpet. it's pathetic. you think about how the others are watching the movie, shedding tears quietly but together, nonetheless. sick of your own actions, you push yourself up and change your clothes. you even manage to drink some water and wash your face in this half-alive state of being. a+ for effort, huh?

you bury yourself under the blanket, wishing the bed would swallow you whole instead. the tears have returned and you feel the pillow getting wetter and wetter by the second. you don't have it in you to grab another tissue though, letting the feeling of the soaked material remind you of your fuckup.

a floor and a few rooms away, oikawa can't stop pacing around. "but they said they didn't want me to go with them...."

"have you ever considered that people lie, idiot?" a tired iwaizumi replies from underneath his blanket on the bed. "especially in a situation like this. it's not like you were any better, you know."

oikawa just glares at him, although it's very hard for iwaizumi to take him seriously when he's wearing his matching plaid pj set. "but what if they get upset that i didn't listen to them?"

"but don't you wanna go and comfort them?" iwaizumi questions harshly. "don't you wanna be there for them? is your fear of overstepping more important than their well-being right now?"

oikawa thinks of your tired, sad eyes and his fingers twitch. "no."

"obviously, dick. go on, then. you have to be back for breakfast though or i'll punch you." iwaizumi states before turning away from his friend and disappearing completely under the blanket.

"you're so mean, iwa... can you not threathen to punch me every two seconds? i'm trying to be so good." oikawa mutters with a pout, grabbing his phone and his hoodie, ready to be your knight in shining armor. knight in plaid pyjamas more like.

"just go already." his friend grumbles and oikawa gifts him a small bye-bye as he's already halfway out the door. the next thing he knows, he's sprinting through the hallways, thanking himself in his head for making you tell him your room number the second he saw you this morning. he doesn't even take the elevator, instead taking triple steps up the stairs. he's also thanking himself for becoming an athlete.

knock! knock! knock!

dismissing that as just a noise from the room next door, you continue your sniffling but when the knocks repeat in a faster manner, you figure one of your teammates had forgotten their key card. so, ever so slowly you push yourself from the comfort of your bed and head over to the door while trying to wipe the tears from your eyes as to look at least a little bit more composed. you're even ready to crack a joke about them losing the card, desperate to disctract the person behind the door from yourself.

but it's not any of your teammates, nor is it your manager of your coach.

it's your oikawa instead – eyes wide open and slightly panting. "you said you don't want me here but i– fuck, how many steps can be between one floor..." he clutches his hand over his chest, the stupid comment slipping out all on its own.

for a millisecond, for a fraction of time, the corners of your lips turn upward but they fall just as fast back down, leaving you both just standing there, staring at each other.

your eyes look way worse now; way more red, way more tired, way more sad, way more dull than a mere hour ago. he should've come here sooner and he imagines iwaizumi slapping the back of his head for his mistake.

"you said you wanna be alone but i don't care."

his blunt statement catches you a little off-guard, your eyebrows furrowing but oikawa just takes it as a green light. if you didn't want him there, surely you'd tell him that right away but you've been standing here with him for a almost half a minute and nothing.

he takes a step, closing the distance between the two of you. he pushes his glasses up on his nose and fiddles with his own fingers and it's weird again. he's nervous. but this isn't about him – it's about you. whatever he's feeling right now is nothing compared to what you're feeling and he just wants to be here for you.

for a second time today, he watches your bottom lip wobble and your chest rise as you take short sharp breaths. and for a second time today, a pair of eyes feel actually comforting. he's not trying to burn you, he's not trying to take back time and alter your actions. he's merely observing instead of dissecting. he's ready to catch you when you fall.

and you do. it's hard not to when he's standing in front of you and looking at you so fondly. your head falls against his strong chest, hands tucked between your bodies as his firmly wrap around you. he takes another step inside and closes the door behind him with his foot.

he listens to you cry into him, he feels your tears on his shirt and through it, on his skin. your hands grasp onto the material, bunching it up in your fists and he just holds you tighter against him.

"you're gonna win next time, i promise" he murmurs.

but when you just sob out a but i wanted to win this time, his heart aches so bad he thinks he's going to die.

oikawa curses at himself for walking right into that one and this time he swears he feels iwaizumi slap the back of his head for real. but he has no time to pity his poor choice of words when he feels your hands clutching at him just where his heart is.

he whispers a quiet i know and you sniffle again. he starts drawing soothing circles onto your back with his palm and he feels so warm. releasing his shirt from your hold, you snake your hands around his body instead, burrowing your face even more into his chest and you faintly hear him coo. it's the first time ever that he's done it in a genuine way and it's the first time you haven't felt the need to punch him for it.

his hand rests on the back of your head, keeping you in your place as he gently sways the both of you from side to side. "i got you."

after some time, he feels you going slack against him and decides to guide you to the bed. he climbs in with you and safely tucks you into the crook of his neck and lets you cry some more as he whispers it's okay against your temple. he just hopes that he's actually helping, that his words actually have an effect. god, he hopes he's making it at least a bit better for you.

he is. he's doing more than he could ever imagine. the thick goo of guilt and shame seems to be draining out of you when you feel his lips brush against your skin. he just might be washing the it off of you with his quiet praise. his words don't sound condescending nor do they sound fake. he means it when he says that you really did do well.

the tears have dried by now and oikawa can feel your eyelashes fluttering against his neck. the long tiring day is finally catching up to you as your breathing slows. he rests his head on top of yours and presses your body indifinitely closer to his. the tips of his fingers dance across your skin, drawing little circles and hearts as he soaks in the sight of you relaxing against him under the moonlight.

"did..."

your meek voice makes him crane his neck back so he can look at you better, ready to hear out whatever complaint you have, ready to comply to whatever request you have.

"did iwaizumi send you?"

...

"WHAT?" it comes out way louder and in a way higher pitch than he'd intended it to. he immediately clears his throat but his eyebrows are still furrowed. "i wanted to come here, why would you say that..."

he still can't see your face clearly from this angle but the way your body moves, is telling him that this isn't you crying anymore. this is you laughing.

"are you– are you fucking laughing at me right now?" he questions, trying to pry you from his neck to confirm his suspicion. and he's fucking right. when you finally unlatch yourself from his body and roll onto your back, you have the tiniest, smallest smile on your lips and oikawa's mouth falls slack. "i wanted to come! i– i'm a good friend!"

it shouldn't be this funny. it really shouldn't because he is a good friend, isn't he? he's here now, holding you, comforting you; he came to you and you're now making fun of him. but you can't help it, the thought of iwaizumi "lecturing" him is silly in this moment. not that you doubt that he came here only because of that, of course. but knowing him, you just think he probably needed a push to actually do it.

oikawa holds himself up above you, observing the small freckles that adorn your face. your eyes are still red and still tired but... the small little glint is back. the same one that's always there when you make fun of him. or when you laugh.

"i literally ran here and this is how you treat me?"

"you're telling me it took you an hour to run up the stairs? i thought you were a volleyball player, shouldn't your stamina be better–" you poke at his chest (right where his heart is) and he lets out a very loud and a very dramatic gasp. "or did your boyfriend have to convince you to come over and console me?"

oikawa's lips tilt into a smirk, happy to hear you barking at him at last. "first of all, don't ever call him my boyfriend ever again–" he situates himself next to you, so his both hands are free. you should've seen this coming, too. "and second of all, you really oughta treat me better."

before you can taunt him with a good old "or what?", his hands are tickling your sides, fingers dancing along your skin as laughter bubbles up from your throat. you try to fight him off, hands clutching onto his in order to stop his torment but to no avail.

"i am... trying... to be.... a good... friend... and this is... what i get... huh..." he rasps as he continues soaking in the sound of your laughter.

"you're.... always... in it for something... that's not... a... real friend... tooru..." you breathe back with a grin and he stops. he doesn't take his hands off of you though, just resting them on your waist.

"you're spending way too much time with iwaizumi, you're both just so mean to me." he's pouting. oikawa is sitting back on his legs and he's actually pouting.

"am i gonna have to console you now?"

"yes." he deadpans.

...

you push yourself up onto your elbow and lean up to boop his nose. "you're stupid."

"no, you're stupid." he grins back.

he has his ways of getting you out of a slump, he always has. him sitting here on your tiny little bed, pouting and laughing is only merely of them. you couldn't wish for a better friend. his hands feel so warm on you and you're so grateful. sitting up, you slap your hands on his shoulders (which of course, makes him wince in a very over the top way). "thanks for coming, tooru."

he rolls his eyes. "pffft."

...

pfft?

"excuse me?" you glare at him and he decides that you and iwaizumi can never hang out ever again.

"i– i meant– yeah, of course. anything for you." he stutters out as you keep glaring at him. he then leans in closer, so much so that your noses are almost touching. "i'm really proud of you, you know."

heat crawls up from your neck and you feel the tips of your ears warm up, overwhelmed by the sudden genuine praise. but you can't let him have the upper hand. not now, not ever. he'll never let you live it down.

"your breath stinks, you know."

his eyes close with another incredibly dramatic sigh as he rests his forehead against yours but while doing so, he takes notice of your hot skin and the way you giggle, and translates it into your language –

thank you.

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gummi-ships · 5 months

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Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - La Cité des Cloches

#kingdom hearts dream drop distance #khddd #la cite des cloches #scenery #my gif #the battle music that plays here creates such a cool and grand atmosphere #i'm so used to spending most of my time in the town or at the cathedral that i forget how dark and gloomy this world can be #sora has to walk past thousands upon thousands of skeletal remains and we don't even get a single cutscene of him reacting to any of it #but i like that there are at least some big open spaces that let you go crazy with flowmotion and climb up the tall buildings and towers #and that you can actually climb up the cathedral from the town square below #but one of my favorite parts in the whole game is playing through riku's side of the story in this world #i love the themes it explores and the insight it provides for his character. so good

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canisalbus · 7 months

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As the proud owner of a sighthound dog, I absolutely love how you portray sighthounds in your art! I've always thought my dog had a beautiful, somewhat regal look about him sometimes, so it was wonderful to see that displayed in Machete when he's wearing his fancy outfits. You also captured a lot of sighthound personality traits really well, my sighthound is a protective, high strung guy who loves cuddles and food. When I saw your comic of Machete saying "I love you, but don't come any closer (to my souffle)" I laughed to myself thinking that was exactly something my dog would say if he could talk, and he would absolutely be a fidgeter if he had hands. Thanks for the sighthound rep! More people should draw these beautiful dogs!

Oh, thank you so much!

That's one of the things I love about sighthounds, they have the potential to look so distinctly regal, elegant and artistic, but they're also goofy in their own way and often have this worried sad-eyed noodle creature feel to them. I just think they're neat.

I'm glad to hear you think I'm doing them justice! I'm certainly trying my best ´v`'

Give your boy scritches from me!

#always wonderful to hear feedback from owners of actual sighthound dogs #especially something as positive as this #answered #anonymous #sometimes I worry I'm doing sighthounds as a whole a disservice by having characters like Machete #with his kind of weird scrunkly looks gloomy backstory and challenging personality #he isn't the most flattering representation and I draw him profusely and post him all over the interwebs #so it's good to be reminded that isn't necessarily the case I guess

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rotisseries · 6 months

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trademark game. garfield. lesbian flag. the last of us. discussing milk in ice. joenicky. all those polls you keep losing. zelda. homeschool. dog motif. suicide threats to anons. narines. all for the game. our divorce. getting back together. stealing all my mutuals. being in on the bit. florida. hating terfs. incest fan. hitting post limit. drako tbos.

that one shouldn't be there. you know which one. why is that there gloomy

what is my trademark

#gloomy is making up for the fact that like nobody participated in this game by naming everything #anyway. that one thing. QUIT SPREADING LIES ABOUT ME #ask #ask game #gloomybirdie #hi gloomy!

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mayhemspreadingguy · 1 year

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Hob with longer hair and fancy accessories ❤️

If you wanna know where this brain rot came from check this post. I blame @magnusbae ☺️

#dreamling #because it's obvious even without explanation who's the one that keeps giving Hob these pretty things and who braids his hair :D #silly rabbit au #because of course it is #gasp not a digital art this time? yeah sometimes I feel like using a good old pencil. but then i remembered why i don't do it very often #taking photos of the sketches is such a pain! especially without a decent light source #and the weather was so gloomy today so no good daylight either TT_TT #and looking back on the sketches maybe i could have gone more wild with the jewellery. that would be probably more funny #in the context of dream making a claim by giving his human a bunch of talismans #which to anybody with supernatural background basically screams BELONGS to the DREAM of the endless!! do NOT approach!!! x'D #but i worried that I'll go overboard and make it look tacky ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯#hob gadling #ferdinand kingsley #mayhem art

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vidovy · 3 months

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I thought the day was moving slow

#my art #• frank 🚐#self ship #self insert #spooky month #I find it funny that Ruth looks like the sun of the relationship and he the moon cuz of color schemes #but no he's my sunshine and Ruth's the actual gloomy one...#plus sunshine.. vampire.. HAHAA #i'm gripping his ass btw but u can't see that

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rugbuggk · 3 months

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Hellsing AU where Integra is a bartender hearing about this drunkard talk about his dead wife while he sobs and cries about it, she’s used to it and calmly share advice for such traumatic event, ignoring how his tears are staining his face with blood.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing alucard #alucard #alutegra #integra hellsing #sir integra #hellsing au #someone write this pls #then she founds out everyone is too drunk to point it out #except for her #oh and yes he tips her as if he pays her #yes Alucard would be that sad gloomy man #in his vladcard form #because why not

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gloomy-prince · 3 months

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he’s wearing his pyjama top under his jacket **screams**

(that’s disgusting but also he’s so cute!!!)

lol yeah... he was in too much of a hurry to change, just put on pants and a jacket...

#the discrepancy between his hair in these two pics.... oops....#gloomy asks

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raviollies · 3 months

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Been a while since I did a summary so here's one of the later sessions (this one written by me muhaha)

So for a couple weeks now the party has found a shapeshifter village to stay in while Arameia gets her Character Moment by bonding with the other werewolves and seeing what they can be like (and hey maybe it's not as bad of a curse as she thinks)

If anyone remembers, a WHILE ago, Arameia broke Raha's glaive when in werewolf form, so it was time to finally fix it up. So my session begins with the party going to a blacksmith that's out of the village, few miles out, a recluse. He is said to be a master and proficient in Elven style of blacksmithing - when they find the forge all the windows are closed, were it not for the smoke from the chimney it would look abandonded.

At first the half-elf blacksmith Greiolf refused entry, but upon hearing that it was for an Elven weapon, reluctantly he let them in. Inside the house is dark, and he forced the party to kinda shuffle in instead of opening the door fully (hint hint).

While inspecting the weapons, by accident, another person reveals themselves in the house, his adoptive daughter, a (seemingly) half-elf woman named Alphienne. The gang is asked to gather the materials necessary to do the repairs (Specific type of wood for Raha's glaive as an example), but since it's late they're welcome to stay for dinner.

During the dinner, the gang really bonds with the small family. Arameia especially, since she herself has an adoptive father, who she left in order to protect from herself. She really likes this old man. Alphienne having lost her parents in the war, and Greiolf being an ex soldier, preferring to keep to himself. He walks with a limp from a recent injury so he requests the party to gather water from a near by well and firewood in the morning. Oddly during the dinner, Alphienne does not seem to eat much, if at all. She cleans up the plates with shaky hands before leaving to wash them followed by Arameia - who to test a suspicion, cuts her hand. Alphienne turned away but did not do anything else, leaving Arameia to shrug and walk back.

After spending the night in the wagon, the gang did as requested, walking to get water and firewood, but seeing a nearby stream, decided to also catch some fish so the family had some fresh food (Raha gathering things like mushrooms and herbs instead). On their way back, they noticed the smoke was no coming from the chimney, and when they stepped in the forge was quiet...empty, and bloody. The repaired weapons lay on the table, but no sign of either of the two occupants.

Following the trail of bloody footprints and handprints, they come upon a grisly scene. Greiolf, disemboweled and Alphienne, a vampire spawn, sitting empty before his body, her whole body stained with blood. It's not hard to deduce that she had murdered him in her hunger. She explains shakily, that she hasn't eaten in several days, or maybe even over a week (Vampires that live off animal blood need nigh daily feeding), that she has no idea how to hunt, and that Greiolf's injury prevented him from hunting too. That the blood from yesterday, made her lose it, made her focus on her hunger, remembering the taste of it.

So the dilemma set over the party: to spare her and leave, or to punish her for what she has done. Raha and Blythe chose to leave, they saw it as an act of survival. If they are paid to hunt her later, they will, but they are not arbiters of morality to be carrying out a sentence for her.

Lorelai did not wish to leave, forced to confront her possible future, and her past, having also accidently slaughtered her father. She wanted her gone, to prove that she isn't a wild animal and can control herself unlike this spawn.

Arameia wanted to slay her for her own feelings, having seen Greiolf as similar to her own father, it was hard not to imagine him there instead, broken and slain, perhaps even by her hand had she stayed. She wished to punish her for taking away such a person. But ultimately, she decided to not pursue further bloodshed.

Eirwen also wanted to do something, in her eyes leaving her behind puts innocent people at risk, that she will feed on others, and more blood will be spilled, but she too was unwilling to stain her own hands to carry out this kill.

They ended up leaving, the forge now empty sans it's final lonely occupant. In the inn, it was a heavy conversation, everyone sharing their thoughts and perspective. That they left a dangerous beast, that will hunt others - but if you do not wish her to hunt, then kill her, but you cannot. That is being a spawn a death sentence should you be untrained in combat? What qualifies as someone 'innocent'? After all they slay many a person on their travels.

Lorelai revealed the reason she is traveling, the past with her father to the party, saying that she cannot pass judgement on her ultimately, despite her feelings, since she is the same.

And so the two beasts and the cleric are at impasse of what they shall do should the harrowing day for their own test come.

Some fun DM things I hid throughout the game for funsies:

Greiolf being a soldier and Alphienne having lost her parents to war was intentional, as it is left ambiguous as to what side he was on, and how much he had participated in that. It is implied he took her in out of guilt

The bloodied forge and the victims showed no signs of struggle. There was no blood under Greiolfs fingernails, and Alphienne bared no injuries.

The fishing trip was meant to instill a feeling of guilt - if they had come earlier would this have been prevented? In truth yes and no. Sure they could have held this off for another day, but what about tomorrow? Or next week? This was a tragedy that was in motion long before they came

Likewise, whether or not Arameia's cut actually played a role in causing the incident in a domino effect is also left up to interpretation.

Despite being Half-Elf, throughout the dinner Greiolf kept referring to Elven blacksmiths as 'they' rather than 'we' - when pointed out by Eirwen he shrugged and just said he didn't feel as though he belonged with them. This was a reflection of an attitude Raha also encountered.

This attitude was also the reason he wished to work on Elven weapons, as he rarely got an opportunity, as a Half-Elf.

Closed windows, the door opening aside, Alphienne was portrayed as being extremely jittery, stumbling over her words, un-coordinated and looking fatigued - signs that she was starving.

Killing Alphienne would have actually not caused any difference or change, as she leaves after this.

#Hi this is long but I enjoyed what I did here enough to wanna share it ughuu #its a much less comedic session than we've had in a long long time but I wanted to bring back the gloomy tone :>

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mkstrigidae · 2 days

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APWH preview snippet!

Since I'm actively trying to work on getting the next few chapters out, I thought I'd share a little future scene with some hints of Jonsa with all you lovely people! This bit is from like, a few chapters in the future bc it's the in-between that's giving me fits right now :) (Fair warning: this is unedited and subject to change! That being said, it's such a fun scene that I can't imagine ever nixing it :D)

“Does he even know that they have to avoid the press?”

“For the last time-“ Sam sighed, sounding completely exasperated, “Dickon knows what they can and can’t do- he’s got enough practice not being photographed from when our dad was the secretary. Not to mention spending time around you when that exposé on your crazy grandfather came out two years ago.”

“I just-“ Jon sighed, blowing a stray curl out of his face. “You didn’t see how freaked out she was when the press caught us at that performance in White Harbor. I thought she was going to have a full-blown panic attack.”

He was immediately derailed by Gilly plopping little Sam down in his lap and shoving a bottle into his hands.

“What’s this all about?” he raised a brow, adjusting the baby on his lap, allowing him to latch onto the cuff of his flannel shirt and start gnawing at the fabric. “You going somewhere?”

Gilly shot him a withering look, but he saw the amusement in her eyes.

“I-“ she gestured, imperiously, “Have not had time by myself to shower all week-“

“Sorry, love.” Sam winced, looking up from his pile of paperwork. “I can take a break from these-“

“Not your fault, Sam.” she waved him off. “You warned me about this conference at the beginning of the summer.” a grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, it works out well- Jon needs a distraction right now from the fact that Sansa’s on a date with your extremely hot and conventionally attractive brother.”

“Hey!” Sam looked wounded, and Gilly rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know you’re my favorite Tarly.” she wrinkled her nose. “How long have you been working on this presentation? You smell like the baby spit up on you.”

“Guess I’m next in line for showers.” Sam said, mournfully. “Unless-“

“Nope- I need my own time right now, Samwell. Did you even hear what I said about why Jon’s bent out of shape?”

Jon had known Gilly since Sam and she had met up north while the two of them were in college. Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the timid, scared girl she had been with the woman who was currently devoting all of her remaining energy to busting his balls.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about Sansa with my brother.” Sam snorted, shotgunning another cup of coffee next to him the way Jon was used to seeing undergrads do with jaeger shots. “I mean, this is Dickon we’re talking about. Used to bring wounded animals home to take care of them Dickon? The same guy who cried when we had movie night and Gilly and Rhae wanted to go see ‘Love, Simon’?” He shook his head. “Look, as far as guys she could be out on a date with right now go, Dickon’s kind of the best case scenario. She’ll have a nice time, and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

Jon blinked at him, silently turning to look up at Gilly, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re hopeless, sweetie.” she kissed him on the forehead again, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not worried that things will go wrong- he’s worried they’ll go a little too well.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time around my sister.” Jon muttered, narrowly avoiding little Sam’s grasping reach for his glasses, managing to get the baby to latch onto the bottle before he destroyed any more of Jon’s eyewear. “You even sounded like her just then.”

Sam blinked for a second, his head whipping between Jon and Gilly.“You’re jealous?” He asked, incredulously. “Of Dickon? Wait- you like Sansa?”

“Got there in the end.” Gilly sighed, affectionately patting him on the shoulder before going to shower, leaving Jon and Sam behind with four cups of coffee, one baby, and approximately five brain cells total between the two of them.

“You like her.” Sam repeated, like it was a giant revelation.

“What are we- in middle school?” Jon hissed, immediately turning his head down to smile and make faces at little Sam while he fed him, before glaring up at big Sam again. “I don’t- I mean-“

Sam was just shaking his head.“Of course you do.” he laughed. “Should have guessed- red hair and a damsel in distress? You were doomed from the outset.”

“Shut up.” Jon muttered, flushing. “It’s not like that.”

“Then why are you worrying about Dickon for fu-“ Sam glanced nervously at the baby, “-god’s sake? When Gill was meeting my family for the first time, I remember you told her not to worry- that my brother was ‘one of the best guys you know’ and ‘practically a golden retriever’.”

Jon could tell that Sam, who could not raise one eyebrow without the other, was desperately trying to do just that.

“I don’t know.” He muttered, moving little Sam to his shoulder to start burping him. “Look- I’m attracted to her, alright? It’s a fu- er, a giant disaster that I’m gonna ignore for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop trying to do that with your eyebrows.” Jon complained. “It’s giving me motion sickness. And yes, seriously. I’m not even going to consider that- it’s just a stupid crush. Besides,” he sighed, rubbing little Sam’s back comfortingly, “Robb’s already dealing with enough right now with this whole Sansa situation- can’t imagine telling him I think his sister’s attractive while he’s being forced to suddenly confront all of his guilt and self loathing every time he looks at her.”

“That whole bro code thing of never dating your friend’s sisters never really made sense to me.” Sam shook his head, gulping down more coffee. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you decided to date Talla, because I know you’d be good to her.”

“Yeah, don't think she'd quite go for that, mate.” Jon snorted, standing to bounce little Sam around gently. He was just grateful Sam hadn’t said anything else about Robb.

“Eh, wouldn’t count you out completely.” Sam shrugged, smirking. “With that hair, you’re pretty enough to be a girl- maybe that’d be enough for her.”

“You are so lucky i’m holding the baby.” Jon muttered, still bouncing little Sam, who picked that moment to spit up spectacularly down Jon’s back.

“Well, that’s three of us who’re gonna need showers now.” Sam grinned, looking thrilled as all get out that it hadn’t been him. “Wow- his aim is getting better.”

“I’m going to remind him of this when he’s a sulky teenager.” Jon grumbled, wiping spit-up off his shoulder as best he could. “Look- no gossiping with Rhae about this, please. She thinks she’s such a good clandestine agent that she doesn’t always realize that Robb is better at sniffing out her plots than she thinks.”

“Alright-“ Sam sighed, looking back down at the massive stack of paperwork in front of him. “I make no promises for Gill, though.”

“Gilly could give some of my Uncle’s colleagues at the WIA a run for their money when it comes to withstanding interrogation.” Jon snorted.

“Probably true.”

“Where did your brother take Sansa?” Still holding onto a now much happier baby with one hand, he reached down the other to take a gulp of his own coffee.

“He said something about going out towards the Tyrell Estate.” Sam shrugged. “They probably drove out there to see the gardens- he’s said it’s a good road to take his bike out on.”

Jon promptly spat out his entire sip of coffee, staining the front of his shirt as well as the back, and frightening little Sam enough that he started to cry.

“He took her on his motorcycle?”

Gilly picked that moment to reappear, completely clean and with wet hair, blinking at the scene in front of her.

Sam, who couldn’t seem to stop laughing, was desperately trying to calm down the baby, who had started wailing, while Jon’s entire front was covered in coffee and his entire back was covered in baby vomit. Not that he seemed to notice, as his face was white and he was making a series of angry looking hand gestures at her husband.

“I really can’t leave you three alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

#my writing #my wips #writing wips #just APWH things #jonsa #fanfiction wip #God bless Gilly like for real #YES Sansa is on a date with someone else here #muscleman golden retriever McAttractiveness #Aka dickon tarly #unsurprisingly jon is not having a great time about it!#in fairness to sansa the plotline directly preceding this and kicking off her doing some traveling was pretty rough on her #so our poor girl really deserves a giant muscley golden retriever with a motorcycle #and to just have a good time with someone who isn't wrapped up in all the stark drama/disaster/mess etc.#jon can deal with it rn bc it's really a 'you snooze you lose' kind of situation #sam's usually quicker on the draw but he's very sleep deprived here #and working on some stuff for a pathology conference #not at all going to be relevant nope no sir #writing sam and jon interacting vs jon and robb is so fascinating #they're both jon's besties but there's a very different dynamic to the two relationships #in fairness Robb has like SO much complex childhood trauma and is kind of seriously going through it right now #but his scenes with jon always have this sort of darker edge to them #like an 'i've known you my entire life and know everything about you for better or worse' type deal- deeper but darker #it's more akin to a sibling relationship? but also not? they are both going thru it #my headcanon is that anytime jon starts getting too gloomy and angsty gilly just straight up shoves the baby at him #and then waits like twenty minutes #Gilly: 'it's free babysitting!'#generally it works pretty well #jon's like '404 error does not compute' as soon as sam says the word 'motorcycle'#also when sam says 'the secretary' he means randyll tarly was the secretary of defense

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