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dfortrafalgar · 2 months

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings.

Additionally, I've been getting a lot of (understandable) messages concerned about the wellbeing of our lovely reader and Law, so I made a helpful little graph just to document the overall progression of the story and where you are so far as of this chapter :)

Do with this what you will <3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 8

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Law’s entire world was curled up on a hospital bed, an IV fluid drip in her hand and her eyes closed tightly shut, afraid that if they opened they’d have to relive the reality of the situation all over again.

You had continued bleeding throughout the car ride to the hospital, rendering the impromptu toilet paper pad completely ineffective. Both what was left of that and your underwear were placed in a biohazard container, and you were placed in a fresh pair of hospital garments with a maxi pad that really operated similar to a diaper. The bleeding also made you incredibly weak and lightheaded, leaving Law to sprint into the emergency room, grab a wheelchair, and bring you inside that way.

When he woke up this morning, he never would’ve guessed he would be seeing you in a hospital bed in the small emergency patient room. You had showered and eaten breakfast, kissed him and pet Bepo. Now you were actively expelling what was most definitely a miscarriage.

A gentle knock resounded outside the shut door. You didn’t even move in reaction, staying inhumanly still with your eyes closed. The door opened regardless however, and Law was met with the friendly, yet somber, face of your gynecologist. Robin entered the room with a clipboard in her hand. Law recognized her instantly, not as his wife’s gynecologist, but as a former classmate in medical school. He never thought that she’d be the one taking care of this entire situation, and part of him was regretful that she had to see this side of him.

“Small world, huh?” Law asked, though his voice lacked any enthusiasm.

“Indeed it is, I was just reading the latest paper you published. I was wondering how you were doing after residency,” the woman responded.

Law huffed with a minimal bounce of his shoulders. “You could probably guess how I’m doing. But, thank you for taking the time to drive here from downtown.”

“Of course, it was oddly good timing. I have no patients at the clinic for the rest of the day.” Robin’s lips pursed all of a sudden however, as she got down to business. “I would like to talk to you privately, if that’s alright with you.”

The man’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Why privately?”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m not sure your wife is in a stable emotional state to hear what I have to say.”

With the way you hadn’t moved since you arrived, your IV drip slowly administering your fluids and a clip on your finger monitoring your pulse and oxygen levels, Law was starting to wonder if you had stressed yourself into a deep sleep. He didn’t want to wake you to find out. Instead, he quietly followed Robin out into the hallway, asking a nurse at the front desk to monitor your room for him. He followed his former colleague into a small meeting room, where she shut the door behind the two of them for complete privacy.

“Law, I know you can handle the more… gritty side of things, so I’m going to be completely blunt with you,” she began, covering her clipboard of papers with her hands. “I’m sure you’re already very aware, but your wife is currently undergoing an eight week miscarriage. Her follow-up appointment from last week was supposed to be in two days, but clearly, we were correct in the possibility that she was seven weeks along when we couldn’t detect a heartbeat.” It was then that she moved her hands, shuffling through the papers in her clipboard before producing a copy of your patient assessment and a small, enclosed envelope. “Before I begin, I would like to ask you a few questions. I was informed that you had blood work and a semen analysis done to confirm your fertility, correct?”

The non-professional side of Law felt slightly uncomfortable discussing the results of his semen analysis with his former residency colleague, but he knew this was crucial information. He nodded, folding his tattooed hands above the table. “Yes I did. My hormone panel from the blood test came back completely normal without any anomalies, and the semen analysis showed a completely normal sperm count.”

Robin nodded, opening the envelope as she listened to him speak. “Understood, so it’s safe to say you are fertile.”

“I would assume so,” he confirmed.

The black-haired woman produced a small set of photographs from the envelope. “With that confirmed for me, I would like to show you these photos from your wife’s ultrasound last week.” She laid out the small assortment of photographs, but held one down with her hand and used her pen to point out the barely-identifiable contents of the image. (Which Law was grateful for, as he admittedly had no idea what he was looking at. His brief rotation in gynecology did very little to cement the process of a uterine ultrasound.)

“This large black space is the amniotic fluid surrounding the embryo,” she described, moving the capped end of her pen around the space. “This white blotch here is the embryo at around six weeks gestation, which I theorize is when it ceased development. As you can see, it’s still attached to the wall of her uterus.” Two taps of the pen against the image punctuated her statement. “This area surrounding the amniotic fluid is the uterine tissue.” Robin looked up at Law. “Understood?”

It took a brief moment, but Law finally nodded his head. “Yes.”

Silently, she moved the first image out of the way and replaced it with another one. “Now I would like to draw your attention to this one.”

Law leaned forward in his seat, assessing the new image. It looked completely different than the first, and he quietly waited for Robin to begin to describe what exactly he was supposed to be focusing on.

“This was taken at the beginning of the ultrasound. My technician placed the transmitter on the left side of her abdomen before moving it toward the approximate location of the uterus to detect the fetus. We were able to see a glimpse of her left ovary during this time.” Once again, the pen tapped a specific area of the image.

Law’s heart rate increased. “Please don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.”

Robin shook her head. “Not cancer,” she confirmed. “However, do you see this patch of tissue right here?” She circled the area.

He didn’t, really, but he nodded his head to urge her to continue.

“It can’t be confirmed without surgery, but I have a strong suspicion that this is endometrial tissue. I reviewed some of her patient notes and recalled certain appointments where she would inform me of abnormally heavy periods, but she never mentioned anything more specific, such as intense pain during menstruation, so it never seemed to affect her life outside of that. But looking at her ultrasound images, I’m highly suspicious that she may have endometriosis, which can greatly negatively impact fertility.”

Law clenched his jaw. “What kind of surgery is done to diagnose that?”

“We would confirm the diagnosis with a laparoscopy. A small cut is made in the naval, and a thin instrument, similar to a camera, is inserted into the incision to scope out potential endometrial tissue. In many circumstances, a similar laparoscopic method is used to surgically remove this endometrial tissue, however we would need a definitive diagnosis in order to perform this with confidence.” Robin was stone-faced as she explained.

Law had a million questions racing through his mind. He wished he could sit and ask all of them, but the most pressing one forced its way out of his mouth first. “Will she ever be able to have children?”

“After a successful recovery from this miscarriage, and a successful recovery from laparoscopic surgery to remove endometrial tissue, if that is the case, then yes, her chances of becoming pregnant will remain. However, women who experience at least one miscarriage have a higher likelihood of experiencing more, so you must take this into account if you decide to try for conception again.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

Robin collected her paperwork, reviewing your patient chart once more. “Other than the potential for endometriosis, her physical health is perfect. There would be no other reason to me why she wouldn’t be able to have children, other than this one big issue.”

Law stayed silent as she explained. He stood up as she did and followed her to the door, blindly keeping pace behind her as he was led back to your room. The door was pushed open slowly so as to not potentially disturb you. The nurse from prior stood from her seat, entering the hallway and quietly whispering to Law.

“She fell asleep, her vitals are good, however she should remain on fluids for a while longer. Her blood pressure was lower than normal and her iron levels were reduced,” explained the nurse, who’s own eyes were creased with a sympathetic concern.

Law gave a curt nod. “Thank you very much for staying there.”

“Of course, it’s my pleasure. Come back to our desk if you need anything,” she replied before leaving to continue her work.

Robin held her clipboard under her arm. “I’m going to return to my office and write a referral for a diagnostic laparoscopy, but I won’t make the official call until she gives me her full permission. Does that sound good?”

Law nodded, rendered completely mute.

“Call my clinic if you need anything at all. Tell them who you are, and I’ll make sure your calls get sent right to me.” Robin was about to turn on her heel, but she looked back once more at the forlorn man. “I don’t usually do that for my patients, but I know you, Law. I know how genuine you are. I can see how much you love your wife and how the both of you are eager for a successful pregnancy. I want to do everything in my power to help you achieve that.”

Law inhaled a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Robin, I… I appreciate that.”

She nodded her head, finally turning and pacing down the hallway. Law entered your room once more and closed the door behind him. He stood at the foot of your bed, following the hose from the IV bag down to where it was connected into the skin of your hand, taped in place to prevent its movement. Your face was tucked into your arms, shielding your grief from the world. The pulse monitor was moved from your index finger to your middle finger, constantly giving readings of your blood oxygen and iron count.

Law took his seat again, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. He only picked his head up to look at the digital clock on the wall. It was already almost 5:00 PM. He shoved his hand in his pants pocket and took out his phone, opening his text messages.

Hey, Shachi, can you or Penguin go to my apartment and feed Bepo? If you could take him for a walk, too, that’d be really appreciated.

It didn’t take long for his phone to buzz with a response.

Dumb Orca

Yea of course. everything good????

Law sighed.

I’ll explain everything later, but we won’t be home for a little while.

Dumb Orca

Ight, bet. hope youre good

Law did really not want to explain the events of the day over text. He placed his phone back in his pocket before eyeing your bag that was laying against the leg of his chair. He reached down and fumbled quietly for your own phone, lifting it from your bag and illuminating your screen. He input your passcode and glanced through your own texts.

Ika-chan

Hey girlie is everything alright??? Law came in to grab your bag

Ika-chan

Text me back as soon as you get this, i’m really worried!!!!!

Ika-chan

I love you boo xoxo

Nami Swan

Hey babes u left ur lunch in the kitchen fridge

Nami Swan

Where did u go???

Nami Swan

I’ll protect ur tupperware for 2day, but if u dont come back by 5 im letting usopp eat ur lunch

Nami Swan

U know how sanji feels abt wasting food

God Usopp

Hey can i have ur lunch

Boss-y

(2 Missed Calls)

Boss-y

(1 Voicemail)

Boss-y

Hey, your husband came in and picked up your bag. He informed reception that he was taking you home, I hope everything’s alright. Please call me back when you can, just so I know you’re alright. If you need some time off, just feel free to let me know that as well so we can work around the project. Don’t stress yourself out about coming back in too quickly, if something happened I want you to recover first and foremost. Best wishes.

Law pressed the button on the side of your phone to set it to sleep mode before slipping it back into your bag. He leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at your backside, curled away from him.

#fem reader #law x reader #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #op x reader #one piece x reader #im losing you

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cheeriecherrymain · 9 months

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papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #viktor blurb #viktor reader insert #arcane reader insert #i am slowly rising from the dead whoops

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blackheart-6 · 2 months

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noelle holiday age progression chart

without height lines

explanations of designs:

hi yall

so, i actually finished this drawing like a week ago lol. but i didnt want to post a bunch of drawing in a row, and then i got sick, so i havent been able to post it till now!

its my imaginings of what noelle looked like as she grew up, and a potential adult noelle design! ill explain my thought processes about these designs below, if anyones interested 😁

i also plan on doing one of these with dess, but this one was pretty difficult, so it might be awhile before that (unless yalls are interested in seeing it?)

first off, im not 100% sure ill keep using all these designs. some of them im not that happy with (im no good at designing outfits 😔) but i just went with them so i could finish the drawing. so if anyone has any alternative outfit ideas for any of her ages, id be interested in seeing/hearing it!

secondly, something that may stick out to yall for all the designs is how tall she gets. its the same height i normally draw her with, but given how i usually draw her by herself you cant really tell how tall she is! i have 3 main reasons for why i headcanon her as this tall: deer are pretty tall irl, so having her be tall makes sense in my head; i just like the look of her being super tall, it makes me happy lol; and third, i personally also headcanon the holiday family as boss monsters (i think ive explained this headcanon before on here, so i wont explain again, unless someone is interested ^^). so yeah, she ends up being 7 feet tall as an adult, the second tallest in her family!

also, i gave all her children forms stripes in some way, as a reference to when monster kid in undertale says they can tell frisk is a kid because of their stripes!

now onto my explainations for individual drawings!

theres nothing really to say about her baby design. the only thing i did that might be new is give her faun spots! they are most plentiful on her baby form, but they persist until shes in her teens, i would say (on here you cant see them after age 7, but thats just because i imagine they are mostly on her back). and i gave her a cute lil onsie that says a-deer-able! if you guys cant read it ^^

this outfit i made for her toddler design is actually an outfit ive used in the past! i wonder if yall know what drawing it was? its pretty much the same as it was there, i just added a stripe to the shirt. i felt like overalls are so reminiscent of childhood, i had to give at least one of her designs them! i also added a little mistletoe to the front pocket, to make it more christmas-esque. and i gave her some bandaids, just cause.

7 years old is one of the designs i really struggled on, and im still not happy with it. i dunno if ive said this yet, but i headcanon noelle to be trans, so at 7 is when i decided she started realizing it. so here i gave her long sleeves and pants, to show how shes more hidden now because shes unhappy with herself, if that makes any sense? i was also trying to make her look a bit like a nerd, with the button up and khakis, just because its funny. but yeah, ill probably end up changing this design at some point :P

11 years old was one of the easiest to do, considering how ive had her design for this age for awhile lol. one thing i did change was going from 2 red/white stripes to one, but ive done that before, so it wasnt something entirely new. i also gave her a smile and closed eyes, cause shes happy being a girl 🥰. other that that, its the same, so yeah, thats it for this part

okay, this next design is a fairly different looking one than all the rest, but i have my reasons! at this point in noelles live, dess has gone missing, so i wanted to show her being sad and stuff. i also gave her shoes and long sleeves because she probably goes out looking for dess when she can, hoping to find a lead 😭. but outside of in-story stuff, this outfit is based off of an old one i drew, but its fairly edited, so i wouldnt be surprised if no one recognizes it even if they have seen my old stuff. she has straight hair here, to show how unhappy she is (idk what it is about straight hair it just feels sad) and because i wanted to give her different hair varieties on this progression chart. i gave her antlers 2 prongs each at this point, because the way i see deer monsters, their antlers show their growth/aging, so youll see them getting bigger and having more prongs as the chart continues.

this outfit for 15 is another one i dont like. i tried to make it similar to her current outfit, but still pretty different. im not even sure what precisely i dont like about this outfit, it just doesnt feel that good. for this one i gave her leg warmers because i used to (and sometimes still do) draw her normal outfit with them. i gave her the curly hair she has as a callback to when i used to draw her hair like that! but yeah, ill probably end up redoing this one too

for 17, i just gave her the normal outfit, so it was easy ^^. in game i think shes 16, but close to turning 17, so i just went with 17 here to fit the +2 age pattern thing i had going on. i also gave her an extra horn prong than i normally give her, just to show age once again

finally, her adult design! i dont like this one either lol. i spent so long trying to think of what outfit to give her, but i couldnt come up with something i liked >.< so i just gave her something simple. i feel like once noelle graduates high school and probably goes to college she branches out more and tries things her mother never let her do, which is why i gave her an outfit like that, that has a crop top and a shorter skirt. also, yalls might recognize the hair style i gave her, i drew a potential adult noelle before and i gave her the same hair ^^

i think thats all for the post! i probably have more thoughts that im just not thinking of, but its fine for now. i hope yall enjoyed the drawing, and if you have any question or comments or whatever, go ahead and say them!! if youve made it this far, have a cookie, you must be hungry after reading so much ^^ 🍪

#art #my art #digital art #deltarune #noelle holiday #deltarune noelle #age chart #age progression chart #progression chart #finally did this #(i mentioned doing it awhile ago)#im kinda mixed on my feelings about this #but if yalls wanna know about that i talk all out it!#this took forever lol #also #trans #transgender #trans noelle #gotta love transbian noelle ^^

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orxnge-rxt · 29 days

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My thoughts on Night of the Quinkan

🐱⍾⍽ okay first of all i dont rly mind the story at all, the characters are still rly endearing to me and theres still lots of entertaining moments

🐱⍾⍽ no idea how the six month time skip thing actually works tbh; I initially thought Ty and Shazza were both in the Dreamtime for six months but apparently thats not the case because, after they went through the wormhole but got separated by an incoming Quinkan, Shazza got back six months before Ty did ig?? they said he was gone for sixth months

🐱⍾⍽ i desperately wish Ridge got more screen time but i also understand that the game was rushed

🐱⍾⍽ i used to think Sly/Naomi was kinda cute but that was because i didnt realize they literally only met at the very end of the game right near the end of the final cutscene (which Ridge didnt even get to appear in???)

🐱⍾⍽ also apparently Naomi's 17 and Sly is 23 😬 no thx he can be her big brother figure instead (Ridgely is best ship)

🐱⍾⍽ the gameplay is pretty smooth overall, but its kinda disappointing how much time you spend in a Bunyip/the Gunyip/etc instead of just piloting Ty himself during the missions (the Crabmersible doesn't rly count since that replaces the role of the Fourbie), plus the added melee combat is just boring

🐱⍾⍽ they actually nerfed the health of the Quinkan enemies in a patch i think (or so ive heard) because of how long they took to kill , also you HAVE to melee them; you cant throw boomerangs to hurt them

🐱⍾⍽ speaking of the Quinkan they're pretty cool enemies; the Quinking was kinda boring tho

🐱⍾⍽ delighted we got to see more Sly and Shazza though (even if Shazza got kidnapped)

🐱⍾⍽ i HATE that they made the kart missions mandatory 😭 as much as i love the Redback Gang as characters i never enjoyed the kart missions in either this game or Bush Rescue at all

🐱⍾⍽ i actually never progressed beyond the first kart mission from them tbh :( i only know about the rest of the game through Youtube

🐱⍾⍽ ofc this means i didnt rly get to experiment w/ the new rang system all that much, but i think it's a rly neat idea! i wouldnt mind seeing that come back tbh

🐱⍾⍽ the ending was kinda silly even though i love the idea of Fluffy sacrificing herself to save Ty; but like... how did she get out of the restraints?? why didnt she just push Cass' laser gun out of the way so he'd miss the shot, or better yet push it so it only murks the Quinking?? how did she manage to, from her trajectory, push both Ty and the Quinking out of the way of the deadly ray gun?? WHY did she push the Quinking out of the way (she actually does that btw)??

🐱⍾⍽ anyway if Krome Studios remade Night of the Quinkan I'd be sooooo happy

🐱⍾⍽ I'd be even happier if they made a new 3D TY game-

#🔴⍾⍽ out of opals ◊ ooc ⍽⍾🔴#ty the tasmanian tiger #🐱⍾⍽ there u go guys theres most of my general thoughts 👍

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margle · 6 months

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just watched the prof layton trailer and im so happy its everything i wanted it to be

i didnt even think we would see any gameplay but we got a whole puzzle????? and it looks so good?????!??? using the environment for puzzles is something ive wanted more of for so long. AND puzzles that progress the story always make the game feel more cohesive. it feels like such a quintessential layton puzzle as well. im curious how writing on the switch is going to work without a stylus. probably just with a finger but maybe they'll make something. i mean its coming out in 2025 so it could even be next gen?? idk

the art style looks so good - i love that theyve retained the kinda hand-drawn vibe. the character model for the npc is great - i like the way theyve translated the exaggerated style and proportions into the cell shaded models. the professor and luke look a bit funny to me but thats just cos im not used to them yet. laytons blank resting smile is rlly funny to me. and theyve cuntified him with the little waist. BUT i like their silly faces and designs :)

also seems like every line of dialogue is now voiced, rather than just the main bits? but the flavour text/observations when you click on something is still unvoiced. this makes sense to me cos the voice lines would overlap/cut off if you clicked on things quickly.

also personality! theming! all so good! i like how now they are in america the characters are called shit like mr eggmuffin. so stupid and fun.

im fine about the fact its coming out in 2025. its fine. im fine.

#professor layton #pl

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brechtian · 6 months

Note

Any thoughts abt a virginia woolf reading order? Ive never read any of her stuff but ive been wanting to ever since my professor for fiction writing told me my stuff reminded her of woolf

Sure! In terms of her essays, I don’t think reading order really matters, but if you haven’t read Modern Fiction yet, it’s a must. The rest I leave up to you; I’ve read a bunch, and even when I don’t agree with her I think they provide context to who she is as a person, but none were (personally!) particularly life changing.

As for fiction! I think chronologically works well. Her first book was The Voyage Out, and I really recommend starting there (If you want something even earlier, her first ever published work was a short story called the mark on the wall that’s a lot of fun). You see the seeds of what will later develop into her signature style, and in all honesty I also just really like the book! The Dalloways (yes, those dalloways) are in it as well so it provides an extra layer to reading Dalloway later. The ending destroys me to this day 🫡

After voyage, I’d recommend you read Jacob’s Room, which is considered her first work of high modernism. After that, Mrs. Dalloway and To The Lighthouse, which are her most famous novels and many people’s favorites. And they’re great! They’re fantastic! Love and adore them!

If you want to, then would be the time to read Orlando and Flush, which are her experiments with the pseudo biography genre. Full disclosure, I actually am not a fan of Orlando—it’s considered a landmark of feminist literature, but I simply don’t enjoy Woolf when she’s primarily focused on being irreverent and satirical, and there’s just a lot of blatant racism in Orlando (one can argue how much is commentary vs Woolf’s own bias or the effectiveness of that commentary) that detracts from the experience of reading it. Idk, just really not my thing, lacks the heart found in a lot of her other work. I haven’t read flush, so no commentary there!

Her last two books are The Waves (my favorite, the one I just spent my entire semester immersed in an writing about) and Between The Acts, which both draw heavily from the stageplay format, are by far her most experimental works, and Between the Acts (which I just started) in particular really reads more like a piece of postmodern literature. Oh! You don’t have to, but her mémoires Moments of Being are great to read before The Waves because she pulls sooo many of those experiences into the novel.

Her diaries and letters are also definitely worth a read, and this isn’t even close to everything she wrote (so many essays and so many reviews). Woolf is an interesting author in that her eras of writing are so distinct, so a chronological reading progression just makes sense imo. I know I threw a lot at you, but truly, take your time and just become immersed in Woolf.

#one of the best writers to ever live. her command of language is breathtaking #Virginia Woolf

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sourbat · 8 months

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Kloktober Day 9: Inspired by Dethalbum IV

Summary: Pickles helps Nathan write a song.

Rating: M

Tags/Warnings: Swearing, blood, discussions about periods, trans male character, and booze

Read on Ao3 ,or read below!

Nathan took a bite of his freshly microwaved cinnamon poptart, letting the hot and constant chew bring his reading glasses down to the tip of his nose before flicking the glazeless corner edge onto the page of his journal. The large crumb bounced against the empty page before being wiped away by a dragging hand. Then, the end of a chewed up pencil tapped the bottom corner as Nathan searched for inspiration. How much time had passed since he started? Five, ten minutes? Oh god, fifteen? Normally, lyrics didn't take this long to construct, not when he already possessed a general idea of what he wanted to compose.

He ate away the minutes staring, doodling and finishing off the rest of his first poptart, and after no progress, groaned and sank into his seat. He shut his eyes and listened to the sink dripping water on some dirty dishes.

“Heeeyy, Nathan.” Pickles’ voice rang through the darkness, followed by the light rub of his sneakers hitting the kitchen floor. “How’s it going, dood?”

Nathan opened his eyes and found Pickles rummaging through one of the fridges. “Hey, Pickles,” he greeted with a low, tired voice. “Just trying to get something on paper.”

Pickles stumbled away from the fridge, a cold beer in his hand. As he cracked it open, he glanced to the table where Nathan sat, and at the near-blank page that only hosted a single word for the would-be song’s title.

He took a sip of the foamy drink before remarking. “Ya stuck?”

“Yeah.” Nathan rested his chin on top of his knuckles. He jabbed at the title with his pencil. “I got the title of a real good song here, but I’m having trouble making it happen.”

Pickles neared the table. He raised one of his pierced eyebrows and, once he had gulped down half of his beer, asked, “What’s the idea?”

“Bloodbath,” Nathan answered, then ceased stabbing at the sheet with his pencil to stare intensely at the scribbled title. “Like, a literal bathtub filled with blood! The image is fucking amazing, but what’s the story? Was there a murder? Did someone gut the guy in the tub? A pissed off chick, maybe?”

Frustrated, he brought a chipped, black nail in between his teeth. He could see the suffering he wanted to induce in his listeners, the red dribbles of sticky fluids pouring out into the warm water, but no matter where Nathan searched, couldn’t connect the pieces together.

“Bloody tub, huh?” He heard Pickles comment next to him. He took another large gulp of his beer, then pulled a chair out to take a seat besides Nathan. “Sound like my Saturday after the old snatch decided to hemorrhage out all its lining in a single night.”

Nathan dropped his finger from his mouth. “Uhhh, what?”

“Ya’ know,” Pickles suggested, making a slight face and wiggling his brows knowingly at Nathan. Once it became clear that didn't work, he made yet another face and, with a roll of his eyes, clarified, “Periods an’ shit.”

“Oh. Ooohhh.” Nathan slowly dragged his head up and down in barely acknowledged agreement. He saw Pickles still staring at him, and then admitted, “I didn’t think you still got… y’know…”

With a snicker, Pickles said, “Anything’s possible, as long as you still got the goods.”

“And you do?” Nathan inquired, then raised a finger over to Pickle’s stomach. “Have the goods?”

Pickles shrugged. “I think about getting the rest of the work done, but each time I start to wonder, what if it fucks with my drive?”

“Yeah, that would suck.”

Pickles downed the rest of his can before tossing it over his shoulder. Nathan watched it fly and hit one of the nearby countertops, and when returned to his notebook, he saw the title mocking him and inwardly groaned.

When he looked away, he saw Pickles back in the fridge, picking up the rest of the six pack he had typed with earlier.

“So, you filled a bathtub with your own blood?” he asked aloud, which, thankfully, gauged Pickles' interest.

“Well, sorta. Obviously I didn't bleed out. But it got real nasty,” Pickles answered. His smiles stretched from ear to ear as Nathan narrowed in on him. “Mind you, I ain’t spilling just blood here. There’s bits and pieces coming out of me.”

Nathan’s eyes widened. “Meat?”

“Well, err, the inner lining of the uterus,” Pickles corrected. He thought about it for a minute, rubbing his head all the meanwhile. “So, uuuuh, yeah? Kinda?”

“And this happens to you every month?” Nathan’s lower lip curled inward as he tried to imagine the scene, along with having to endure such a cycle for all of his existence.

“Well, not every month,” Pickles replied oh-so casually. “More like, once in a blue moon. Unusually after a heavy bender. Too much booze fucks with the hormones.”

“Oh, that’s not too bad,” Nathan remarked, notably relieved by the notion, until he remembered just how much and often he and Pickles drank till they blacked out. Confusion hurriedly blanketed his mind as he struggled to gauge how much was required to fit under the term “heavy bender.”

Pickles nodded in return, then cracked open another can of boose. “Yeah, but when it rains it pours.”

“What do you mean?”

Pickles held in a chuckle. “I swear, when I’m on the rag, I bleed out all at once.” He brought up a hand as though to stop Nathan from suggesting. “Again, not enough to fill a tub, but it’s enough to ruin some nice bed sheets. Oh, and the cramps.”

“Cramps?”

Nathan got cramps, usually when he consumed too much diary. When he tried to bridge the conversation with his example, though, Pickles held in a snort and hooks his head.

“Imagine what Mags did to you, but smack dab in the middle of yer’ naughty bits,” he explained, and earned an immediate cringe from Nathan. With a haughty smirk, he continued, “You got a muscle design to keep shut, and now it’s gotta force itself open so it can expel a bunch of rotten flesh and blood. Doesn’t matter what you tell the damn doctors either, they give you the same shitty painkillers and say take two every six to eight hours.” Pickles raised a can to the very thought, then loudly slurped at the fizz gathering at the top. Once he had thoroughly finished the can, he placed down upon the table with a rough clank. He wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand and said, “I take about five per sitting.”

“That sounds…” Nathan fell into a silence as he tried, but failed, to imagine himself in such a situation, “Well, Intense.”

Reaching for his third can, Pickles responded, “Oh, it is. And it used to be worse.”

“...what?”

Nathan couldn't fathom how something that was supposedly natural would be any worse than what Pickles had currently described.

Luckily for him, Pickles seemed to have no issue openly sharing the dirty details. “Dood, before I started HRT, I was irregular as hell,” he began, “I’d have two in a month, go three months without anything happening, then suddenly end up spending days at the hospital thinking I was about to die.” Nathan swallowed a dry lump as Pickles stared out into a distant memory, his freckles becoming more visibly abundant as his expression started to pale from the past trauma. He brought a hand on his chest. “My fucking nips hurt,” he started, “and I’d get pissed real easily. And the cramps! The pain was so bad I’d dry heave or spit up the plasticky, hospital water the nurses handed me. Like, you’ve seen me mad before? I can be pissy, but the anger I experienced while waiting for the IV drugs to induce my painless coma was insufferable. I wanted to rip those smart-ass doctors a new one, but couldnt cause if I moved too much I’d fucking vomit.” Pickles stuck out a dry tongue and feigned a heave as he reenacted the experience. “And you know my bitch of a mother wanted nothing to do with the ol’ B.C. So it was like that until I had money for a regular prescription. Soaking cold hospital sheets with my fucking blood clots while being so sick and hateful that just thinkin’ about looking into the mirror made me wanna jump out the window.”

Looking up, Pickles tossed his third can. Maybe it was because he was thinking of his mother, but Nathan noticed the force in Pickles’ throw. The can crashed into the ground, and Nathan stared at the deformed tab leading into the crooked hole, and he couldn't break away as it leaked out the remains of dark, fizzy beer.

He eventually caught Pickles watching him. “Oh” was all Nathan could stammer, then returned to a state of absolute silence from the horror his friend had casually constructed.

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago,” Pickles replied after some time, giving them both ample time to recover, though Nathan still remained uncomfortably silent. He picked himself off from his chair, took the rest of his half-consumed six pack by the plastic rim, and flashed a pleased grin. “Thanks fer listening, Nathan.”

“Uhhh, no problem.” Nathan replied, his eyes looking far into the distance. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “And, uhh, sorry about all of that.”

He continued to stare out long after Pickles left the kitchen and retreated back into his domains. Nathan counted the days since Saturday, and then shirked in his seat. By the time his stomach had settled, Nathan’s remaining poptart had returned to its stony, tasteless state, though by now eating was out of the question. Instead, he brought a finger over to his sinking glasses, and pushed them up his sweaty bridge, back to his wary stare. Nathan glanced at the title of Dethklok’s next song scribbled on his notebook and, with a slight look of disgust, began to write.

#mlt #kloktober #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #fanfic

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flokali · 1 year

Note

seen ur hsr charas and there's only one thing in my mind....

h-how u got all of the mats?? 🗿🗿

(i mean yea, there's "ways")

oooohhhhh but prob just good management of the trailblaze power/fuels or r they just leveled up? (i meant the others,,, (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) ) like genuinely curious fufu

Hello, hello~

To be completely honest, the main reason I’ve been able to advance in the game so fast is because I’ve been sick and resting - so no class nor work for me - which means I’ve had a lot of time to do nothing other than playing. It’s partially why I’ve been able to reach lvl 36 in under a week, compared to Genshin where it took me almost twice the time to do so;;

When it comes to mats, I’ve set up a bit of a system for myself!

UTC because it got… really, really long - I did not think this game would have me this excited, alas here we are - almost 760 words of me just rambling about it…

I try getting exactly what I need rather than grinding and hoarding as many mats for the future; if I need, let’s say, 3 character ascension materials then I’ll set the rewards to get me exactly 3 mats!

Since I’m at Equilibrium lvl 2 and only have until lvl 3 to set, I know I’ll be getting 2-3 drops per round, so I’ll set it to use exactly the needed amount of Trailblaze Powder so as to not waste it.

I’ve also used up a lot, and I mean a lot, of the Trailblaze Fuel, which means I haven’t had to wait as much time to have the Trailblaze Powder filled up again.

Then there’s the local shops for each location, you have them in Herta’s Space Station, Jarilo-IV, and the Xianzhou Luofu! They use unique world currency that you have to get via quests and progressing through the story, but they have a lot of materials for both Light Cones and Character Ascension! There’s also the rewards you get from spending a certain amount in each shop where they give you Stellar Jade, Wrap Tickets, and other materials.

Another pretty good way to level up your characters fast is to claim the Level up rewards Pom-Pom gives, some of the drops are Trailblaze Fuel, Travel Guide, Adventure Logs, Refined Aether, Condensed Aether, Wrap Tickets, etc.

Then there’s the classic Embers Exchange (the little blue things you get from the Wraps), where you’ll get Trace and Light Cone ascension materials from 4-12 Embers, this resets each month so you have plenty of time to get them!

Other than that, I tend to work on all the characters at once when it comes to leveling them up and ascending them; I don’t prioritize my main team from the others, though I tend to treat my favorite characters a little better, I don’t know if that has helped me much but I thought I might add it? I do tend to try and always have all my characters at a certain ATK and ascension level - mostly because the game relies a lot on having different characters with different paths and elements. I kind of, just click add and see if I have enough for them to reach the next level, lol.

I do tend to neglect Relics a lot, mostly since I can’t really get the five star sets yet and I’d rather wait until I can get my hands on the good stuff than waste my resources on something that I’ll be replacing, so I can’t give much advice for them (T^T);; I tend to mostly use the ones I get from chests and completing quests/missions but it’s worked quite well so far!

These are all my tips and reminders for material compiled into a list:

1) Don’t hoard yet! Try getting only what you need, that way you’ll save Trailblaze Powder and grind for different materials.

2) World Shops are your best friends, they’re a quick way to get your hands on materials and give you rewards the more you spend on them.

3) Don’t be too afraid of using your Trailblaze Fuel, it’s there for you to use!

4) Some characters are easier to grind for, some are harder - some use the same materials as others, some will be the only character that needs a certain material: make a mental (or physical) list of characters that have similar materials and choose who to level up first and if you’ll grind for both of them or not.

5) Learn to prioritize what talents/cones/characters you want, even with all of what I’ve said; there will be times a character will be slightly behind, that’s okay - just focus on having fun and on the ones you’ll use the most.

6) Do both the Simulated Universe and Hall of Echos, if I had to pick one I’d recommend Herta’s SU since it gives weekly rewards for points and hands out EXP and materials as well, it also doesn’t use Trailblaze Power so you’re free to do it as many times as you wish.

7) The game is incredibly generous, it’s not afraid to give you materials the more you progress in the story and levels.

Hope this helps;; it’s kind of (very) long but I racked my brain to give as many tips as possible!

#๋࣭. priestess preaches #๋࣭. hidden devotee #๋࣭. tips!#i… realized i trailed off and started rambling about god knows what but hopefully this helped?#i play mostly on instinct - i don’t really plan out much other than just having fun in the moment - which leads to me either having:#a) really good characters or b) whatever the fuck my genshin main team is

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fragilecapric0rnn · 10 months

Note

ive gotta ask for 🔀 & steddie please!

hi Mj! thanks for the ask!

as it seems, the writing gods want to keep the angst theme going...

because CHRIST is this a sad ass song.

I've toyed with the idea in my head of a steddie fic that is more on the sad side, something where they just can't make it work, but good god do they try really hard to make it work. But at the end of the day, they're just two traumatized boys, carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. So, for one reason or another, they're perpetually on-again off-again.

This line in particular —

Oh so kiss him again Just to prove to me that you can I will stand here And burn in my skin

— is particularly gut wrenching to me.

I can see it as them seeing each other after their last failed attempt at being together. They're in their mid to late twenties.

Steve moved to Chicago to live with Robin after their break-up, caused by their inability to communicate, both of them bottling up their feelings, only for said feelings to be released in an alcohol induced blow-up that ended in Eddie storming out of Steve's apartment, coming back in the morning to get his belongings and say his goodbyes.

Eddie, thinking that they just need some space, that he can go back to the apartment in a few weeks and try again. Try and make it work again. This time he'll stop drinking. This time he'll try harder. Only this time was the last time, as he goes back to the apartment in Hawkins and sees that it's vacant.

But now, it's years later. Steve didn't think he'd be seeing Eddie tonight. Eddie never made an effort to show up to anything that anyone invited him to in the past. Eddie is the furthest thing from his mind as he makes his way into the bar, the entire place rented out for Max and Lucas' engagement party. Steve showed up with Robin on one side and his newest (and most serious) boyfriend, Nick, on his other side. He was feeling good. Two of his closest friends, celebrating a huge milestone, his heart filled to the brim with excitement.

The night progressed, champagne flowing, Nick chomping it up with his friends and being the charming beacon of sunshine he always was, in every setting, in private and in public. Steve beamed with joy, it was oozing out of every pore of his body. He is happy.

Robin stiffens beside him, grabs onto his bicep, stealing his attention away from the story that Nick was telling Dustin and El about their trip to the coast. As soon as Steve turns his head, sees what made Robin react in such a way, he is hit with every emotion humanly possible.

Standing on the other side of the room, staring at them with a blank expression, was Eddie. His hair was still long, the bangs gone, grown into the rest of his hair. Steve wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, but there he was. Like a ghost come back to haunt him. He felt 19 again, heart ready to burst outside of his chest, sprout legs and sprint toward him. Not a single day had passed, but the five years felt like fifty. Hard blinks to make sure he's not dreaming, prickles of anxiety draw up his spine. He can't breathe

Meanwhile, Eddie had stayed on the other side of the room on purpose. He had been there all of thirty seconds, knowing damn well that Steve was going to be there, but never expecting to see him here like this, with someone other than Robin.

After the breakup, Eddie spiraled. He didn't leave the house for over a month. Wayne had to coax him into stepping out onto the porch every once in a while to feel fresh air, to remind him he was alive. He never left Indiana. Worked as a mechanic and never dated anyone seriously after Steve. It had hurt to bad. Too much. Kept a safe distance from everyone, well, except Dustin and Max. They wouldn't let him hide for too long. Ironic as it is, considering they were also closest with Steve. But, when they were around Eddie, his name never entered the conversation, never entered the vicinity, who's Steve, type of reaction. Yet, he still spent years rejecting invitations to celebrations, deciding to be a shut in, a recluse, celebrate the wins of life with two of his oldest friends in private.

Until Max and Lucas got engaged. Knowing, this would be the only wedding for either of them. Knowing, Max would be upset if he missed out on these moments. Knowing, he'd see him. He still agreed to show up to the first celebration of many.

And immediately regretted it.

Why didn't they tell him that Steve was with somebody? Why, even if they never spoke his name in Eddie's presence, did neither of them feel the need to tell him how fucking happy he looked?

This was a mistake. He needed to leave before he was seen by Steve.

He really should've guessed that Robin was the one he truly needed to avoid. Steve's second set of eyes. He froze when his eyes met hers. Stood there in the walkway, only a few feet from exiting. In his line of sight, there was Steve right behind her. Looking at his boyfriend like the sun was shining out of his ass.

He couldn't move. Feet further cemented to the ground when Steve's eyes locked onto him.

Kick in the stomach, punch to the neck, air stolen right from his body by the sight of the man who broke his heart all those years ago. The man who's heart he broke right back.

His legs, suddenly uncemented, start moving. But not in the direction of the door. No. For some god forsaken reason, they take him right into the direct line of fire.

As usual, his body and brain never chose the right moments to lean into cowardice.

send me a 🔀 and a pairing, and i’ll shuffle my playlist and make an au based on the first song that comes up

#fic ideas #ask game #steddie sweetie i am so sorry #sen writes #lets all hope and pray that some happy songs come on shuffle this time jfc

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jonriptide · 1 year

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Writing schedule v2

So by previous writing schedule has been taking a bit long, I know that. Mostly it has been life happening and reduced amount of writing time this year, however, writer's block has been taken a toll as well.

For the first part, I can at least say that I have no intentions of abandoning writing at the moment. Though life is life you know. I'll try to keep a better pace than I have had this year, but in no way expect a chap every week. Busy dude.

For the second part, I have decided to restructure the way I schedule my writing. In the past I have written whatever I felt like, with some stories updated often (by my standards), while others were left in oblivion. That's the reason I changed to a fixed schedule, though braving through writer's block on a stuck story didn't help, especially when I could have made progress elsewhere instead of being stuck.

So, I've decided to make adjustments (an evolving process). Mostly, I'll try to keep my priority list, but whenever I am stuck I'll move to write the next story in my list and so on, while constantly getting back to the first story to see if I can get it unblocked. Here are the ground rules:

I am still not committing to any dates, as I am terribly slow, people still know that. The schedule is for fic writing order, not dates of publishing.

Still giving more priority to updating the fics that have stayed the longest without update, and to my Ron Weasley series.

I will still keep publishing new stories, because is fun and refreshing and already have stuff written about a bunch of them.

I have a very long schedule, I will put all of my active stories with progress so you can get an idea of how much work is pending on your favorite and how many stories I have to go through before I revisit it.

That being said, here it is:

Mighty Morphin Potter Rangers. Chapter 2 . (Part of the Team - Harry’s POV) I have a scene done for this one. But still deciding how to wrap it.

Harry Potter and the Halfblood Weasleys. Chapter 9. (A Lesson on Half-Truths - Rose’s POV). Oh this one is going to be a crowd pleaser, looking forward to it. No word written, but I even have dialogues in my head for it.

Harry Potter and the Gatekeeper’s Book. Chapter 5. (The Potters). A fully written chap that needs revisit. A crowd pleaser as well. I know some people would like me to write this one instead and find themselves disappointed of it being so down on the list, but it's the one I most recently updated and need to go over all of these first ^.

Ron Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets. Chapter 6. (Sequoia Locklear). Haven't started writing this one yet.

Harry Potter and the Ships of War. Chapter 5. (The Ship that Must Not be Named). Solid first scene completed, but haven't started with the rest.

(New Story)... I have a few stories to get around

Rainbow Hermione. Chapter 2. (Sunshine) Haven't written a single word about chap2

Uncrushed. Chapter 5. (L'Esperto Turistico - Hermione's POV) I have 0 words written of this one, but it is going to be a riot to work on.

Back In Time: The Lightning Thief. Chapter 7 (Grover IV). Passable draft which I need to work on.

Broken Conscience. Chap 2 (Afterwards) I have like 10-20% of the chap done.

Harry Potter and the Founders' Scroll. Chapter 4. (The Fresh Appeal of Ancient Runes). I have literally 0 words written about this one. It might take a while

Harry Potter and the Unity Cup. Chapter 2 (The Unity Trials). I have zero words of this.

The Marauders and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Chapter 3 (The Boy Who Lived - Lily's POV). I have an old draft to work for this one. Shouldn't take long to finish once I return to this story.

Potters, Weasleys and the Son of the Legend. Chapter 5 (Tidings of War - Ron's POV). Next chap is like 80% done. I still plan to get the previous ones checked by my beta.

Hermione is an Owl. Chapter 6 (Tarantallegra) 0% done.

(UPDATED IN 4/30/2024)

I'll update this when new progress is done.

#jon riptide #work in progress #harry potter fanfiction

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definitelynotshouting · 2 years

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“Symphony” for the writer asks!! 💙

HELLO CLOUD THE BELOVED its good to see you in my inbox :] i dont see a specific fandom attached to this so im just gonna ramble about my dsmp fic all wayfaring hearts which is one of my favorite things ive ever written.

Despite still being a wip, ive had everything about this fic completely mapped out since day one, and some of the biggest themes i've wanted to explore with it were the concepts of impermanence and what i consider the most important aspects of humanity. all wayfaring hearts is, at its core, about a vast and inhuman universe learning about itself and the people who call it home, and being fundamentally changed by that experience. It's about learning what kindness is. Trust. Mercy. Compassion. Changing others with your presence and love and being changed in turn. Tommy is the universe compressed into a tiny shell, and his time with Wilbur, Phil, and Techno literally shifts how said universe functions in this story.

And at the same time, its about how everything is fleeting. From the beginning of the very first section, the narration reveals that Tommy's time is limited in this form-- the universe can't stay compressed for too long before returning to its original state. This is echoed by something Wilbur says later in the first chapter, disguised as some teasing dialogue: "All good things come to an end." And, although its not fully written yet, i plan to continue that theme throughout the rest of the story until its natural conclusion (which i won't actually spoil just yet, since the fic is still in progress).

I have a lot of love for this fic and its entire concept. Its very much inspired by The Little Prince and also my love for the cosmos, and the people living within it. And i think at the very end of the day, having a story centered around so much love and hope and the bittersweet knowledge of eventual parting is just. Its so important to me. And i hope i can get it finished sometime soon, so everyone else can experience the same shrimp emotions i feel whenever i think about it.

I'll leave you with a little snippet from chapter 2 under the cut, just to round it all out:

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

They’re looking up at the stars when Wilbur turns to him and says, “Did you know that the universe is kind, Tommy?”

Tommy frowns at him, shifting away from the stars to stare at Wilbur’s eyes instead. They’re dyed black in the moonlight, pupils lost to the darkness. Like a black hole, sucking in everything within its orbit. He’s forced to look away after a moment, something like embarrassment bubbling underneath his skin. “Don’t mess around, Wil.”

“I’m not,” Wilbur says, “I’m serious, Tommy. Look up there at the stars and tell me the universe doesn’t love us– you can’t. It’s made something beautiful, and it lets us look at it every single night. If that’s not an act of love, I don’t know what is.”

Tommy shifts uncomfortably. His voice comes out slightly harsh when he speaks, harsher than he intends: “The universe doesn’t– it’s not kind, Wilbur. It just is. Kindness, compassion– that’s all human stuff. I don’t– the universe doesn’t understand it. It can’t.”

Wilbur hums, an absent little tune with no real melody. “See, I don’t think that’s true. I think it loves us enough to give us a moon, and stars, and a sun when it’s daytime. I think it loves everything it makes– including us. And I think it’s– y’know, it’s got a, a purpose. Everything has a purpose. I really believe that, Tommy, I really do.”

A beat. Tommy shifts, no longer admiring the stars, unable to return to the peace of the previous moment.

“Why are you telling me this, Wilbur?”

“I’m just thinking about it,” Wilbur says honestly. He turns his head again, until only his profile is visible in the lamplight. “And I don’t– I think you haven’t seen a lot of kindness before. So it’s only fair I tell you, right?”

Tommy reluctantly tears his gaze away from Wilbur’s profile, turning back to the stars. Thinks about the spider Wilbur had crushed in the chicken coop, and how Tommy had watched, impassive at a life snuffed out so quickly. “You’re wrong,” he says bluntly, “but that’s okay. It’s a… nice sentiment, I guess.”

Wilbur hums again, this time a low, almost-tune that vibrates in the back of his throat. “Think about it,” he says, and they lapse back into silence.

Neither of them speak until their candle burns out, and then they go back inside. Tommy crawls into his attic bed, fingers clenched in the covers, and thinks of spiders until the sun comes up in the morning.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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commander-gloryforge · 2 years

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I really like Jue, and their armour and colour scheme, and that big hammer. Tell me more about them. I know you said they're a work in progress, but I want to see more photos and hear more.

thank you sm for asking about jue omg! theyre very dear to me since ive had them for a looong long time <3

ive got their story down relatively well, though their personality isnt the most consistent yet and there are a bunch of things here and there i havent really figured out </3

jue basically was disowned by their own family for not being able to use magic like the rest of the family did, and instead turned to become a scientist. but i guess mixing various toxic chemicals, a love for explosions and hatred for the family that one was abandoned by can create an interesting personality, and certainly a lack of morality.

jue is technically of krytan nobility, born as julia flame. the flame family has fire running through their veins, quite literally. theyre a family of pyromancers, controlling the element of fire, some of them even having power over all elements, making them elementalists.

not jue though. they werent born with all that arcane magic (unlike their older sister, whos probably one of the most skilled elementalists of the family), they werent born with... any kind of magical knowlege. no matter how much her family tried to teach fire spells, or any magic for that matter, jue just couldnt do it.

so, the second child of the flame family was forgotten. in secret, jue was given to another "family member", an aunt of jue that had met a similar fate, though instead of not being able to ever learn any magic, she had become a necromancer instead (what a scandal!). jues aunt was bitter towards her former "family", but loving to her new child. violett, their bigger sister, would still visit them in secret, playing with them, bringing expensive gifts. it was a loving relationship between them that would however fade as the two grew older, and violetts visits stopped.

jue may not have inherited the fire magic of her family, but certainly the fascination of flames. jue didnt need magic to play with fire. they became an inventor, engineer, scientist. jue, still under the name of julia at that time, left home at a young age to see more, the grand things tyria had to offer. they were drawn to asura tech, all those floaty cubes with funky colours, flashy alchemy and golems that listened to their owners every word, it drew her in. but shed soon find it to be a bit boring. they needed more kaboom. the charr had that needed kaboom. war machines, tanks, flamethrowers. jue liked the big things.

it was probably in the middle of their big search for more explosives throughout tyria that scarlet began terrorizing the world. oh scarlet. she was crazy, sure, dangerous, absolutely, a danger to the world, yes. jue didnt like all that much her. but they couldnt help but idolize her nonetheless. the descend into madness had started.

"julia" became "jue", to create more distance between them and that damned "family". violett was long forgotten, after all, vi didnt seem to care. jue collected more weapons. favoured was anything that could create explosions, fire, sparkly colourful lights. making elixirs became a great passion of jue, and an even greater passion was testing them on unsuspecting subjects.

but between all that sparkly glitzy alchemy, their trusty hammer remained jues favourite. why? well, because it killed instantly, and it killed properly. there was nothing technical about it. just pure violence. one would wonder how killing because fire and explosions are pretty turned into killing for the sake of killing. who knows. jue certainly doesnt. she doesnt think about that though. they just do what they want, and they just so happen to want to smash peoples skulls. maybe its just fun to do.

after all, to jue, everything is about fun. fire is fun. alchemy is fun. murder is fun!

my hand slipped and now here a post longer than anticipated! i wish i could simply stop talking sometimes.

like many of my characters, i kind of dont know what jue did during more recent events. they do spiral into evilness more and more though, and go so far that even violett snaps out of her little disney villain phase to try and save jue (or save tyria from jue, who knows)

its hard for me to portray them just the way i want: unhinged, not giving a shit about other lives, and obsessed with the beauty of destruction. as long as i havent figured out more about her, i also struggle giving them a proper outfit, which is why they run around in the scientist outfit for now!

some more screens of them! one of these is another old pic from 2017 and the other is the skins theyre wearing rn under that outfit

i do rly want to get back to that pink and blue colour scheme i used to have for her but also im obsessed with the purple hair <3

thank you again for asking and also thank you for reading my brainrot if youve made it this far <3 <3

#dio answers #guild wars 2 #gw2 #dios ocs #gw2 oc #thats a temporary tag until ive figured out what shell go by #demolisher jue

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