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zivazivc · 2 months

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Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:

youtube

#btw the status of Floyd's and Les's relationship is forever set on 'complicated'#but they are as obsessed with each other as i am obsessed with them #the song is too soft and vulnerable to be something les would sing out loud but inside he does feel it #papa roach is nu metal btw. tho idk where this song stands exactly #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #answered #my art #btw I am only self educated on the bipolar disorder from what i've read and watched on the internet so have that in mind #my intention is to be respectful but i might not understand all of it. especially not the personal experience of those who have it #i'm just some random nerd #so in a way you could say floyd was diagnosed by a nonprofessional lol #i stayed up until 3am last night writing this #today i made the sketch that is no longer a sketch #should i put this post under a cut? it is pretty long #long post

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tcfactory · 5 months

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Please consider: Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu role-swap

[LiuJiu, 2300 words]

After the fire, Shen Jiu doesn't sit around, he's aiming straight for Cang Qiong. Wu Yanzi tempts him, but if he is to ever find out what happened to Qi-ge then he can't play around with rogue cultivators, so he ditches the man before Wu Yanzi could take him as a disciple.

He arrives to the sect at a year when they are not doing the disciple selection - the women at the Warm Red Pavilion say it's because the Sect Leader is busy monitoring his cursed head disciple and if the Sect Leader doesn't take part then the rest of the sect has to wait too - but he's tipped off that Bai Zhan is always open to those who are determined enough to climb the mountain and demand admittance.

So that's exactly what he does. The Peak Lord sets him against one of his junior disciples and tells him there are no rules, if he can beat them he's in. It's a test he's not supposed to win, to see his determination and his reaction to failure, as a malnourished slave boy should be no match to someone in good health who has two years of training under his belt. But Shen Jiu doesn't know this, he has come too far to give up now and unlike the scrappy, but well-fed farmer's son he's set up against, he fights dirty.

He sets the basis of his future nickname - The Rabid Wolf of Bai Zhan - that day when he claws the boy's eye out and forces him to yield. His rise among the disciples is almost as meteoric as Yue Qi's and people are on the lookout for when the upstart slave boy will plummet back to the earth, but he never does. When the year is up and the sect is abuzz that Lingxi caves are finally opening again because they are letting the cursed disciple out, he's there in the front row among the curious onlookers and throws himself in his Qi-ge's arms as soon as the other boy steps foot into the light again.

Shen Qingqiu grows up tall and willowy and unpredictable, an unconventional physical cultivator that bends with the wind, but never breaks. With Yue Qingyuan's support as an unshakeable mountain behind his back, he is untouchable. He never bothers to hide what he is, not his scars or his sharp edges or the slave brand burned into the meat of his shoulder, often bared to the world by his choice of outfit; he stands as testament that even the lowest wretches can claw their way up to stand among giants.

Liu Mingqu yields to his rich family and allows himself to be enrolled into Qing Jing. He is not as suited for spiritual cultivation and he has no head for arts, but he is still a prodigy and a really hard working one at that. He learns all there is to learn for a scholar and doesn't rest until he perfects them all - music, calligraphy, painting, poetry - and even if he's ever uninspired about pursuing them, the Peerless Beauty of Qing Jing is a competent teacher who stands head and shoulders over his peers. He masters his temper and his manners and takes to hiding his face behind a fan or sometimes a veil like his sister to discourage people from staring at him.

Their roles may be different, but their nature remains the same. Shen Jiu has always been more clever than he was strong and nothing changed about that now that he's essentially a spiritual cultivator playing at star athlete. He plants a bamboo forest on his mountain - for meditation and ambush practice, he says, but everyone knows he just needed a bubble of calm for himself in the endless war zone of Bai Zhan - and mercilessly beats any disciple who dares to damage the forest. In the serene calm of his little house he hoards books and maps and all the culture he can get his calloused hands on, always thirsty to know more, an endless pit his Qi-ge happily pours obscure knowledge into. He uses the standing feud between Bai Zhan and Qing Jing to spy on them, learn their cultivation methods by sight and listen to the senior disciples do ad hoc concerts, so he can practice music in the brothel or under a silencing array just behind his house.

It's during one of these trips when he discovers Liu Qingge behind the Qing Jing Peak Lord's manor, restlessly shuffling through the steps of a formal dance. Liu Qingge yearns to move, he yearns for the exertion of his wild youth, but there are only so many acceptable options for a scholar and as a cultivator he can't channel his restlessness into hunting or horse riding. That leaves dancing, but Liu Qingge is not a creative person. He sticks to the dances he half-remembers learning as a rich young master and maybe asks his sister for some more, but that's where his resourcefulness runs out on this venture.

Shen Qingqiu watches him go through the steps of the same dozen dances, swap to a few rounds of sword forms - perfectly executed and ethereal, an immortal beauty that earthbound Shen Qingqiu will never be able to replicate - and then swap back to the dances, increasingly frustrated and restless.

"If Peak Lord Qingge wants to learn some better dances, this shidi can introduce you to someone." Liu Qingge startles and almost turns him into a pincushion with a barrage of bamboo leaves.

"What do you want?!" They are secure in their respective positions, but they still don't like each other.

"Peace, shixiong. I'm just looking out for the sect. How would it reflect on me if I let my fellow Peak Lord work himself into a qi deviation and didn't step in?" Shen Qingqiu shrugs and smiles with an easy, predatory grace that makes Liu Qingge wish he had fangs to match the Wolf of Bai Zhan, but there's no malice in the offer. "Come now, shixiong. There's nobody else here. We don't need to do this stupid game of social posturing. Tell you what, as a sign of my goodwill I'm going to teach you a meditation technique to calm your qi after exercise, free of charge."

Almost everything with Shen Qingqiu is a transaction, so Liu Qingge knows better than to pass up the chance to get something from his shidi for free - and the meditation does help settle his roiling qi.

"What do you want in return, then?" It's almost terrifying how intensely Shen Qingqiu's eyes light up.

"That trick with the leaves - teach me how to do it."

Liu Qingge doesn't bother to point out that it's a spiritual technique. It's an unspoken secret that they would be better suited to each other's cultivation styles than that of their own peaks. Shen Qingqiu has a storm of razor sharp leaves dancing in the air before Liu Qingge is even done explaining.

He almost regrets agreeing when Shen Qingqiu takes him down to the brothel, but the women his shidi introduces him to are truly masters of dance - they were stars of an imperial dance troupe before their owner was executed for offending the Emperor and they were sold to the brothel. They take him to the back and teach him dances he could never have imagined, dances that make his heart soar and his blood rush hot in his veins, while Shen Qingqiu lightly dozes among the women in the main reception area, his very presence frightening all but the most unruly patrons into behaving.

Liu Qingge is an honest man and he knows, deep down, that he got much more out of this exchange than his shidi. He’s on the lookout to see how he could repay him, but Shen Qingqiu seems to want for nothing. What he can’t get on his own Yue Qingyuan gifts to him, doting relentlessly on his sharp-edged little brother. So when he hears that Shen Qingqiu is to set out to assist in a night hunt against a particularly dangerous demonic beast that made its way over the to the far shore of the sea, he hops to the opportunity to compile a scroll of all the unspoken rules and etiquette of the island, as well as a short history on the ninja clan that asked for their aid. It’s all information that Shen Qingqiu has no way of learning otherwise, but should ease his time on the hunt.

When he can’t find Shen Qingqiu at the bamboo house he goes looking for him and that’s when he finds the silencing array, that’s when he sees his shidi sitting with his guqin in a clearing, composing music. Liu Qingge’s mouth goes dry, his heart skips a beat - his shidi is like a vision from the heavens and for the first time since he started this scholarly lifestyle, Liu Qingge wants to paint. He wants to etch this scene in his heart and condense it into a poem.

He slinks away before his shidi can notice him and leaves the scroll in the bamboo house. In the three years Shen Qingqiu is gone, hunting that elusive monster that decimates one village after another, he becomes a man possessed - or more accurately, a tender hearted young maiden yearning for her first love. He paints picture after picture, sometimes of a wolf stalking among the bamboo, sometimes of Qingqiu with his guqin as the scene lives in his memory. Rarely he paints his shidi stretched out on a couch in the brothel, languid with feigned sleep and one eye opened a crack as he vigilantly watches over his sisters - he gifts one of those to the brothel, much to the ladies’ delight. He starts writing poetry, yearning, horrible poetry his sister mocks relentlessly, but slowly he finds his words and his latest attempts are almost good. He is the first to hound Zhangmen-shixiong for news on Shen shidi and learns every word of every letter by heart, no matter how short or impersonal the progress reports are.

Liu Qingge knows that his martial siblings are not blind to his obsession - he has caught Shang shidi muttering “bro, really?!” under his breath more than once. He’s not familiar with the expression, but he can understand the sentiment. Yue Qingyuan watches him with patient exasperation, but he knows that the man doesn’t disapprove from the mild comment about how Shen Jiu will need a new ceremonial robe for his return celebration because his old one is ten years out of fashion.

Embroidery is, technically, within the skill set of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hounds An Ding until someone supplies him with Shen Qingqiu’s measurements and the finest materials he can bully Shang shidi into acquiring - “That’s the same stuff demon royalty wears, try not to waste it, my contact had to go through the royal seamstress of the northern kingdom to get it in that color.” - and sets to work. Bai Zhan’s color is steel blue, but that never fit his shidi, so he picks greens instead to match his striking green eyes. He creates a design that accentuates the deceptive slimness of Qingqiu, then embroiders the robes with bamboo patterns and a wolf on the hunt and when they are done he crafts a matching fan - Shen shidi hides from nothing and nobody, but Liu Qingge thinks he might enjoy being a little mysterious.

He is daydreaming about his shidi during the next Peak Lord meeting when the Sect Leader breaks the news: the beast has finally been slain and Shen Qingqiu will be on the next ship back home. Liu Qingge stays barely long enough to not be impolite at the end of the meeting before he rushes off to finish the last touches on the robes. He wants to leave it all set out for his shidi in the bamboo house.

In his haste he misses the look Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan exchange behind his back.

“So, about those arrangements we made…”

“Yes, please. Let’s get Xiao Jiu home before Liu-shidi pines himself into a qi deviation.”

“Yeah, he’s down bad isn’t he?”

“Are you certain your prince doesn’t mind? If you are in any danger, shidi…”

“No! It’s fine, I’m fine, he already agreed to it! In fact, my Xuebao likes your brother so much I’m almost a little jealous.”

“Really now?”

“Zhangmen-shixiong, please stop looking like you are plotting murder. It’s not like that. As the Mobei prince, he really doesn’t have a lot of friends. Of course he misses A-Jiu.”

“If you say so, shidi.”

Liu Qingge is all jitters when he walks down the path to the bamboo house. He can’t understand why because Shen Qingiu won’t be back for months, but he still feels like a maiden on her way to ask out her love on the first date.

He almost drops the package with the robes when he opens the door and finds Shen Qingqiu standing there in the sunlit room. His shidi is too solid, too real to be an apparition, his clothes worn from travel, his heavy pack still unpacked by the table. He stands with a letter in one hand - Qingge recognizes his sister’s wobbly, childish handwriting - and with Qingge’s notebook in which he wrote all his stumbling, horrible poetry in the other and Liu Qingge wishes nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Are those my new robes?” Shen Qingqiu asks, as if they have only met this morning, as if that was a reasonable thing to ask when Qingge’s heart is about to explode from nerves. He can only mutely nod at his shidi. “You know shixiong, I can see that you have put enormous effort into courting me. I would have loved it if it happened when I was here to experience it.”

Shen Qingqiu sets the notebook and the letter down and stalks up to Liu Qingge, his eyes sharp with an emotion he can’t interpret, but it makes Liu Qingge want to bare his throat to his teeth and be devoured.

“So, Liu-shixiong. Are you going to help me try on my new robes?”

#svsss #liu qingge #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #liujiu #tc writes #I'm tempted to draw something for this ngl #not putting this under readmore bc there was no good spot to cut it and it doesn't feel that long...#LQG going 0 to 100 in love like the nerd he is #Bai Zhan SQQ takes a more direct approach to protecting the sect #so of course he found out about Moshang #and beat Mobei's ass when they were still teens for treating hamster-shidi too rough so he got promoted to best friend status #that's just enough context for airplane to remember what he wrote about violent demon bonding #and clean up that no humans don't find physical violence directed at them sexy #mobei is a security risk to the sect but a calculated one #no other sect has a way to go to japan and back in five minutes so he can live for now #they are still pretty young here btw #Mingyuan is just old enough to write #she's old enough to bully her big brother for being a really bad poet though #tough crowd

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the-words-we-sung · 2 months

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Thoughts and pictures - S3E1

So after digesting my first watch a little bit, I'm starting my rewatch of this season and I'll share a few thoughts and reactions (and screenshots) because I can't keep it all to myself 😱

I was happy that we dived directly into the (sort of) trial and confrontation between Wilhelm, Simon and August. I do wonder how much time passed between the speech and this scene though. It sets the tone for the entire season for Wilhelm: he's gonna be alone, with no support whatsoever from his parents. He enters the room alone, his parents arrive after him and his mother doesn't even look at him... Simon arrives with his mother and August with his stepdad. But Wilhelm has to deal with the situation alone (aka how to get incredibly mad at Kristina barely 5min into the season 😤)

Simon looks so pretty and so sad. (And how did Omar manage to look even younger this season??) He wants to be done with this whole thing. Also I checked but 1.2 millions kronor is not as much as I thought it would be (it's apparently around 107 000€, which is not bad, but I was expecting more)

I see what you did there Simon 😏 (Can someone gif this scene and put it in parallel with Wilhelm seeing Simon's room for the first time and saying "cozy" in season 1? :p)

The boys coming back to the meeting: very smooth. Nobody knows what you were doing. Nop. Not at all. (We can see Linda kinda smirking when Simon sits back whereas Kristina looks like she just ate a very sour lemon). Wilhelm arranging his hair and Simon smiling at him: they might be in the middle of an important meeting and at the Palace but they're still 2 teenage boys in love (and I love them for that 💜)

Rickard looked and sounded like such an idiot in the previous seasons that I didn't expect him to actually be competent! But I guess we were mostly seeing him through August's eyes... I know Rickard said he was the best lawyer in the country but I have to admit that I thought he was just bragging ^^' Also: August is such an asshole. Did he really need to rile up Wilhelm like that? He's got quite the confidence to attack him and tell him how he just fuck things up on his own, in front of everyone like that, including the queen. Who, again, is not defending her son!! She tells them to shut up but she says nothing to August for talking like that to her son 😠

(They look like they've been called to the principal office). Kristina doesn't look at them immediately, she looks at Erik's picture on her desk first. Then she looks at August. And then finally at Wilhelm. She is so awful to him this season... Right from the start. And then she breaks down crying for Erik.

While Wilhelm holds her. I wasn't expecting to see her grieve so much this season. We didn't see that at all in season 2. Is it because she repressed all of her emotions too much? I hate that she breaks down like that just after Wilhelm publicly coming out. How can she not be there for him. I get that it must be hard to lose a son, but she still has a very alive one, who needs her.

Kristina is not getting redeemed in this season but Linda kinda is! I was super happy to see her get in mama bear's mode at the trial ^^ It was about time!! But here: I'm sorry Linda but it's not your son's role to keep you updated about what's going on in your house! You're the mother! Stop putting everything on this kid's shoulders!! Maybe he never tells you but do you ever ask??

Simon being truly angry at Sara is so good. I am so happy so he's able to feel that way and to not feel like he has to repress it, to forgive her, to help her. She did something truly bad and he's allowed to be mad. Also look at his angry lil' face 💜

In things that made me laugh: Wilhelm's reaction and face to learning that Simon is grounded all semester xD He was talking all smoothly/flirty and then his tone changes so dramatically when he realizes he won't be able to get his boyfriend in his bed very soon! Horny boy is horny (and frustrated :p)

This faaaaaace ☹

I'm happy to see that Simon still has Ayub and Rosh here to support him. I wish they would have told him that replying to comments online was a bad idea though. You know the saying kids: don't feed the trolls!!

Wilhelm looks like such a normal teenager when he gets back to his room. First time we see him so carefree. It breaks my heart to know that on the other side Simon is so unwell already.

Wilhelm waking up happy and smiling. And being just a teenager (for the first time in a very long time): thinking about his boyfriend, redrawing the heart on his hand. It's such teenager things!! My boy just wants to have a normal life... (And then he's immediately reminded that he's actually not just a regular teenager with Farima's text).

Simon's worried face when he asks about Wilhelm's initiation. You can see he's truly horrified at the idea that he might have gone through what's been described in the article.

And then it starts: the piling up of everything on Wilhelm's shoulders. First his mother looking really unwell and breaking down (even though she hasn't been said to be officially ill yet), and now the negative impact of his speech on the school... Which Vincent takes great pleasure in reminding him about.

This first episode is really good at setting things in motion. We see already the beginning of what's gonna go down during this season: Simon not feeling well, dealing with online hatred, struggling with his new place next to Wilhelm in the spotlight. And Wilhelm trying to finally live a carefree life at school with his boyfriend now that he's officially out but slowly getting crushed under the pressure of his role as Crown Prince and the increasingly obvious lack of support from his parents.

#Young Royals #Young Royals season 3 #yr S3E1 #Wilmon #Prince Wilhelm #Simon Eriksson #my little thoughts #I really liked the episode #but Simon is breaking our heart right from the start isn't he?#Omar and Edvin are incredible actors #and I truly don't know how Omar can look even cuter and younger this season ><#sorry for the long post #please let me know if I should put it under a cut?#I'm thinking of writing my thoughts for each episode this week #watching each episode again but more slowly #while writing up little thoughts and taking screenshots #is pretty nice #and makes me feel like now I can also go and enjoy what other people have written ^^

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env0 · 29 days

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We all feel the weight... Of gravity. Of each situation

#Selfie #Selca #Not April fools #I'm getting put under and my throat cut open tomorrow and am only rather kind of nervous about it.

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actionyak · 3 months

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so I was at [REDACTED] food dispensary which I may or may not work at and they had various little activities for kids and this was one of them? weird ass tentacle beetle?

possibly of interest to @bogleech

#how does this work do i have to put it in the tags #@bogleech #high quality in case anybody wants to print them out to make their own #it looks like mandibles? pincers? fold under so I'm going to carefully use a craft knife to cut them free without removing them

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front-facing-pokemon · 9 months

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#all the other forms are under the cut. i debated about how exactly to handle deoxys forms but i'm just putting them all in one post #deoxys #so you get them all here. look! it's deoxyribonucleic acid‚ the pokémon! i don't think i spelled that right but i'm not going to doublecheck #weirdly i've felt anxious sorta all morning. and i have no idea what the anxiety is about. so. my thoughts here may be a little less than #y'know. substantial. but deoxys is cool! y'know! it appears in the opening cutscene of psmd which you all Know i love #can like. regenerate its limbs or whatever. shouting out deoxys rn

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honorhearted · 1 year

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@socialseasons | continued from (x)

John was dead. No matter how many times Ben read and re-read Gregory’s frantic, pleading words, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around them -- couldn’t fathom why the boy believed Francesca needed his help. The malaise was too strong, he’d claimed. She would write home with pleasantries, but refused their mother’s fervent plea to come home and rest.

But what could he do, Ben wondered? After his departure, he’d promptly cut off all ties with Francesca. Her letters arrived for many months, and despite his yearnings to correspond and keep himself abreast of her life, he’d selfishly discarded them into the fire, not even giving in to the temptation of opening them and reading what laid inside. A little over a year later, the letters finally stopped, and despite the undeniable hole in his heart from the loss of her friendship, he’d deemed their separation for the best. She had a husband now. She would soon have a family...

And now Francesca had nothing. She had no one in that big, empty manor, and despite Ben’s distance and lack of connection to her plight, he couldn’t help but feel responsible. He should’ve been there. He should have never let her face all this alone.

It was this guilt that fueled him into accepting Gregory’s secret invitation. Weeks onboard a cramped ship gave way to a stormy, unpleasant arrival with a chilling sense of foreboding. The wind whipped pellets of rain into his face, and waterlogged his clothes within moments of being on land. It was fitting, Ben thought. He was surely being tested for intervening where he was not welcome -- he was surely being punished with this tragedy of his own making.

By the time Ben pounded on the double doors to Francesca’s manor -- or rather, her husband’s -- it was late afternoon and he was shaking from the chill. Impatient, he shifted between using the door knocker and his fist, banging on the thick oak surface until it opened and revealed a servant with a cautious, disapproving scowl.

“Lady Francesca,” Ben choked out, abruptly lowering his fist. “Please...I need to speak with her.”

He knew he must appear bedraggled and untrustworthy at best, and his suspicions were confirmed once the woman denied him entry.

“I’m sorry, but her ladyship is not currently admitting any guests,” she said.

She moved to close the doors, but Ben was quick to lodge his foot in between the wooden slabs. “Please,” he begged, “I’ve come out all this way...”

“And I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” the woman coolly said, “but I’m afraid you-”

“I was sent for!” Ben furiously cut in. “Please, you must let me through!” When the woman yet again moved to shut the doors, he used all his body weight to barrel in across the threshold, the servant’s shrill cry rising above the din as Ben breathlessly shouted, “Frannie! Fran, it’s me... Please. You must come down here!”

“Sir, please!” the woman growled. “If you don’t leave right this instant, I will have you thrown out by force!”

The commotion finally seemed to rouse someone’s attention. A woman appeared at the top of the staircase, and both Ben and the servant stopped in their tracks, the former feeling as though an awl had punctured him right between the ribs. It was her... It couldn’t be, and yet it was. The weight of womanhood carved itself across Francesca’s features, soft and refined, yet grief had mellowed out some of the brightness in her smile and the sparkle in her eyes. She was no longer sweet and carefree -- she was no longer a child, naïve and at fate’s mercy.

Finally, something seemed to register in Francesca’s face, and then she came rushing down the steps to meet him, her arms flinging around his neck and holding on tight. Forgotten was their small audience, and Ben stooped to properly embrace her, a lump in his throat as he passed his fingers through her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. Please forgive me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Words failed him in that moment -- after all, what could he say to a friend he’d so heinously abandoned? -- and pressing a kiss to her temple, he finally settled on asking what happened. Francesca went rigid against him, and her silence tore his heartstrings akin to knives as she lowered down to her proper height, her eyes scanning his face with clear confusion.

“Your husband,” Ben weakly explained. “Frannie, I didn’t know... Why didn’t you tell me?”

You know exactly why.

Pressing his lips inward, shame bled across his features and he swallowed, suddenly unable to return her gaze. “I...I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted. It was true. He didn’t know what to say, and as tears filled his eyes, he was suddenly grateful to the rainwater masking his emotional turmoil. It was her -- it was really, truly her -- and somehow, it hurt nearly as much to have Francesca there with him as it did to be apart. Her hands were clasped in his own, and yet the weight of them didn’t feel real...couldn’t be real.

And then just like that, she pulled away from him. It was as though a curtain had been drawn, promptly closing off the warmth in her face as she reverted back to something colder, proper and guarded. Don’t hide from me, he wanted to plead, and yet he knew the sentiment was laughable. Had that not been what he, himself had done over the past four years? He’d once told Francesca she taught him not to run from his problems -- that he needed to face them -- and yet Ben was still running, even now.

While Francesca fussed over his wet clothes, he finally felt the chill in the significantly warmer foyer and shivered, guilt ribboning through him upon her question.

“I didn’t wish to be presumptuous,” he said, “so I do have an inn I can return to, should you prefer it. Caleb helped me with my last minute travels, so he’s presently staying there.” Wiping the rainwater from his face, Ben offered a feeble smile and quipped, “You know, all those years ago during your debut, you had quite the stunning entrance. I suppose I was well overdue.” In more ways than one.

Once Mary had left to prepare his room, Ben reached down and took hold of Francesca’s hand, his heart in his throat as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll stay,” he finally agreed. “For as long as you need me.”

#socialseasons #for everything a season #//wow this got insanely long and it's not even good lmao i'm so sorry #obviously no need to match #i put it under a cut to spare everyone lol #i guess not being able to write for 24+ hrs made me go overboard #long post tw

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pvthfinder · 2 months

Text

—GHOSTPUNK—

// blood and gore under the cut

#cyberpunk 2077 #ghostrunner #jack #sort of #cw: blood #cw: gore #cyberpunk #i'm a simple woman #i see ghostrunner #i put on the OSTs and jam #i worked very hard for the screenshot under the cut ngl

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tetedurfarm · 23 days

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wanted to take some photos of my van gogh hotots (van gotots?) but my plant light makes them look very ethereal

their mom is smashbox, my severe head tilt doe. because of her neck, she can't get into a nestbox or really pull any fur, so i put her in a small solid-bottom cage for the night of her due date so she could kindle in deep shavings. however, because she can't really pull fur, the kits still chilled a little before i got to them. rabbit instincts say that if kits are going to die, they need to be disposed of, so she had already begun eating them; i actually knew she'd kindle before i got to where her cage was because i could hear the kit she was working on at the time squealing (it was not particularly pretty, the condition it was in. helios the corn snake got an extra dinner that week.) fortunately, the rest of the litter made it out unscathed except for these two, who are down an ear each.

all in all, this litter turned out as good as it possibly could have. all but one kit is alive and well, fostered off to another doe. it was a good sized litter (six live!), and there were miraculously no sports (mismarks) and no boxers (eyeliner on only one eye)! like genuinely insane odds on that.

just watch the earless ones be the nicest ones in the litter 🙄

#rabbit #show rabbits #kits #blanc de hotot #animal death /#animal injury /#i'm not gonna put this sort of stuff under cuts because i think you need to see it #you need to understand the realities of agriculture and breeding animals #sometimes it ends up with half-eaten kits and that's just how it is #that being said i try not to be an asshole so i will tag it #but like...this is what farming is. if you can't handle this sort of thing you probably shouldn't engage with ag content lol #or god forbid try to breed animals yourself

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wlfpet · 1 year

Note

i want to run my pussy on abby's hammer like a cat in heat i need her to make fun of me i want to suck on her tongue spit everywhere i do not care amen

AN; this is that shit that makes you embarrassed to look at mirrors after you write it. I gotta go... repently shamefully for this... if you know what I mean.

content tags: MEAN dom!Abby, assplay, object insertion (r!receiving, anal, yeah...) spanking (r!receiving), degradation (abs calls the reader whore, slut, bitch, etc.) , humiliation, name calling, affectionate pet name used in mean ways, mindbreak if u squint and tilt your head, strap on penetration (r!receiving), messy/dirty sex? public sex, nobody walks in but reader has thoughts about if someone did. spit kink but not in the mouth. abby and the reader and kinda nasty dirty and unhinged but are deeply in love and there IS aftercare!! started as an informal headcannon, somehow we got to paragraphs and thousand-word counds

WC: 3.1k

proofread?: yes \ no \ barely

tl;dr: abby sluts you out for being bad, you become very well-acquainted with a hammer.

just want u to know that you’re sick (lovingly) and I had to get in peak porn writing position to pump out this reply… no pun intended.

first of all we would have to fight over the hammer but that’s neither here nor there let’s unpack mean, condescending dom abby who loves to tease and make u cry.

I know I said Abby wouldn’t like fucking in public but I also love going back on my word and maybe this is one of those times where she gets super frustrated with you and decides to take u down a peg. she’s forever the doting, loving girlfriend but she knows she’s created a spoiled brat, nd sometimes u just push her too far; running your mouth too fucking much, using your body to rile her up right before her next assignment, and leaving her high and dry, the way you flaunt everything around the stadium, traipsing around in short little skirts, or a paper-thin button up, the hard baby buds of your nipples greeting everyone you talked to. hell, even the one time she caught you going commando at your job, flashing her little slips of your wet pussy as you passed her items over the consignment desk.

if you wanted to be a loose, disrespectful whore, she could play that game too. if she had to punish you into being good for her again, it was a low price to pay.

she’d tell you she had something to show you in the woods outside the stadium, ‘just something for you and me, mouse.’ of course, she’d give you one last chance to make it up to her, to prove that you’re good. but you’re too cocky, wandering hands trailing over her skin, down her chest, cupping that space between her thighs to feel the fat strap she was packing, just for you. Feigning dropping something on the ground to grind your hips against that hard, imposing bulge. She’d play nice, just for a second, looking down at you from your place on your knees. You had that innocent face plastered on, the slightest pull of a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

“hi, mam-“ you started, but she shushed you, instead using her palm to push up your head gently, the telltale sign of your favourite ritual. you opened your mouth hungrily, fanning out your tongue in that pliant, pretty way that she loved, letting her know you were all hers. For a second, it softened her; you, happily on your knees, that look of sheer devotion painting your face, waiting to be molded, created in her image. but it was never that easy, and you recoiled as a heavy spray of saliva drenched your face, sticking to your skin and dribbling from your stuck-together lashes. You blinked it back, vision obscured, hands moving away to wipe it causing a filthy smear on your visage.

Your play at aloofness was the last straw, and you found hard fingers tangling their way into your hair and forcing you down in a different position, the pit of her lips and her hot breath beating the side of your face.

“you take me for a fucking joke, cunt?”

“No mama, never— jus’ playin’ a little bit—“

you’d pout, craning your neck to look at her through fluttered lashes and teary eyes. Her jaw was clenched tight, forcing her words through gritted teeth. Eyes dark and predatory, looking over you like a piece of meat. A trail of fear cobbled down your spine and Abby walked it, shoving your mid back down to get you exactly how she wanted you. You were arched up with your tummy and breasts pressed down into the grass, the soft globes of your soft, plentiful ass poking from your flipped-over skirt, knees scuffed by the soil. you were sure that your face was caked with mud or would be. Your cunny wet your panties easily from the excitement of it all, dripping from that pit of terror and sheer animalistic arousal that only Abby, your one true owner could unlock. The slick ran down your thighs, filthy little drips painting your skin that made her own cunt boil internally. From below, you could see the woman who towered over you crack a crooked smile.

There she was.

“Didn’t I say that if you make it hard for me, I’ll make it hard for you?”

You nodded, silently, shamefully. Abby was cruel, palming your ass violently, kneading it, a rage that had been simmering for weeks boiling over in one moment, and you were the frog who didn’t notice the temperature rising until it was too late. “Better brace yourself, dumb fuckin’ whore.”

You wanted to press your luck. to tease just a bit harder, to say ‘for what?’ with the hopes she’d squirm, get out of her body a bit, see if you could brat your way into getting just a little bit more. But before you could open your mouth to let out a cheeky quip, a sound something like the swing of a knife in the wind cut through the silence, and a forgiveless, merciless blow dented your little ass. Your body shot forward against your will, every muscle in those damned delicious arms working overtime to knock you off balance. You knew you were severely fucked, that Abs would have you walking funny for days after how you behaved, that she had no plans of going easy on you.

“Mam- mommy, mommy,” you started, babbling like a fool, nose running and mouth awash with drool as you took your punishment, warm flesh being peppered with harsh smacks that reddened your beloved dom’s palm and indented your skin with hot spiderwebs. She didn’t respond, but you could hear heavy breaths and grunts of exertion pushing out of her nostrils. Your pussy was still leaking, panties nearly translucent from how ruined the fabric was. she was sure to leave a couple of blows there, too, your bitty clitty fighting its way out of its cloak of protection, unwittingly making it a prime target for the abuse your ass was under.

The cloth was removed from you, and abby silently marveled at your redness, the juiciness of your drooling snatch, and how your nub pulsated like it had its own mini heartbeat. she gripped it best she could, wetness making her fingers slip before she could catch good traction, and pulling the bundle of nerves towards her slightly. You were squeaking, moaning, guttural, and animalistic as you fucked your hips in her direction, the pinned hands still captured in her large fist slapping and clawing at any flesh it could find, even the still sensitive globes of your asscheeks. “Ple— fuck, please mama, be niceeee.”

“Fuck are you crying for? You’re a fucking faucet down here, we both know you need this.” water from your eyes dripped down, inky black marks rolling over your nose and into the dirt beneath you, marring your pretty face. your pussy was drooling though, and the rough treatment was exactly what you had been needing. she was always too busy with patrols, or supply runs, or any of the stupid vanity projects Isaac would spring on her at the drop of a hat. she’d feel remorseful about it, trying to placate you at night with lazy rubs to your clit or skating her tongue through your slit, but it wasn’t enough, and all you needed was to get taken down the way you deserved.

like this.

“open up those legs.” she said it like you had a choice, ha. “needa get you ready to take my cock. I mean, that is what you came out here for, right?” you wanted to say a lot, yes mommy, I’m a whore, yes mommy, I’m addicted to your dick, yes mommy, I’m a needy cockslut who has to have it every night lest I lose my fucking mind. but you were already gone; already in that soft, stupid, braindead space where you happily existed as her favourite hole and nothing more, so all you could do was force a weak nod.

but that wasn’t enough for mommy, never enough for mommy. her disapproval came down in the form of her hard, dirty boot on your ass, jostling you, enough to shock you back to life and give you a little scare, but enough to not hurt her baby too bad, because that was unforgivable. she angled her knee over, the tread gripping your ass and splitting your lips apart to reveal the ruby red of your hidden jewel. you could hear the telltale flick and jingle of her utility belt flipping open. there was only a second to exist in confusion before you hissed, keening unintentionally at the feeling of cold metal persisting against those red-hot folds between your thighs.

It was… whatever it was, but it drove you insane; slight bumps, divots, irregularities working every moan and scream out of you, tapping you like a leaky faucet as Abby tormented your hole. That damned work boot kept you open as she took her time, sometimes dipping the unknown attacker into your hole only to let it pop out as she fucked her arm back and forth, up and down, veins pulsing from the exertion. You were insane, fully broken without even feeling her cock in you, being painfully teased, barely fucked with the cold steel she had summoned.

She had fucked you with a lot; grinding on her pistol while she raked the clip through your hole, some shitty keepsake Issac had gotten her to celebrate her first 100 confirmed kills that was just the right size and girth for an anal dildo. fuck, even detached the quiver of her crossbow so that you could grind and get off like a good little girl in the front of the Jeep while she filled up the boot after a supply run.

But you couldn’t pick this one.

Abs was always good to you, a little mean sometimes, but this was just another way she was good to you, devoted to making your slut pussy feel the way it needed to. She was mean, however, when she left you empty and whimpering at the lack of stimulation as she pulled her arm away, dropping her foot and leaning over you as she brought the weapon of m(ass) destruction to your face. “you run that fuckin’ mouth enough, can use it for useful shit too, right?” She started, rough and imposing. “Get your new friend nice and clean for mommy.”

it was… a ball-peen hammer, flat on one side, rounded and fat on the other, and dripping with your nectar from end to end. You shuddered with excitement. She was so fucking dirty, so fucking sick for this, and you were impossibly turned on by it. you needed more. Your lips formed an O instantly, taking the less girthy head into your mouth, moaning at the taste of your own sinful juices coating your tongue. if anyone came upon this sight, if a passing group of scars came by and blew your head off, It didn’t matter, nothing mattered right now, the two of you could get ambushed at that very moment, and you would die happily as mommy’s perfectly debased whore.

she released the grip on your arms, pulling your head up by your hair to fit more of the tool in your waiting, happy mouth. you lapped it all, wetness leaking down your neck and between your pert breasts. Your saliva ran lengthwise down the handle, Abby’s palms being coated in the slick, drippy and sticky. You whined as she took it back, pouting immediately with disappointment. you could hear something muttered, a nonchalant ‘calm the fuck down’ and then the telltale drag of zipper teeth as Abby forced her cock free, dragging the fat head through your folds.

“Want me, mouse?” she said, tone almost sweet again as she fucked slightly into your waiting pussy, just the tip and nothing more. It was almost enough to make the waterworks start again, what felt like hours of evil teasing, toying around with your body like it was a game. She slipped in deeper, then pulled the sheathed inches completely out, biting the fat of her bottom lip as the diamond lines of your wetness stayed connected in thin air. you were fucking gorgeous, and she could take you right here and now, give you all the dick you needed, and melt your brain until you needed to be carried home.

But she wanted to drag it all out, wanted this to be the punishment. You could take all of the receiving, even if the cruel and unusual, but the anticipation, the not having is what killed you; and she knew which ticks would force you to lose it.

you were stumbling, babbling, everything swimming through your head too fast. Your exploited cunny was pulsating, the air blowing between your netherlips making everything so much more sensitive, making your brain even foggier. A thick, adept thumb flattened against your folds, dipping in to collect some of the sacred liquid and smearing it against your inner thigh. Her fingers drummed the fat of your butt impatiently. “So you’re gonna make me take you home? That what you want?”

“No!” You shrieked, on the verge of tantruming. It was too much, enough to wake you up, at attention and ready to take what she was willing to give. “No, no, I mean— want you! need you mama. So bad.” You swirled your hips around for emphasis, grinding against nothing, searching for anything to put out the fire she set inside of you. “On your elbows for me, then.” She said, waiting for you to comply in order to drop your head back down. She hummed in appreciation at your unwavering obedience, enjoying how much you were willing to degrade yourself for this, before she spread open your pussy lips and bottomed out all at once. “Goood fuckin girl, Mouse.”

The fire never got put out, it was quite the opposite, as though your whole body was alight from each nerve ending as she pounded into you with that body made of sheer muscle. She pressed forward, repositioning you with no hands and deepening your arch until she had the proper leverage to hit that fucking spot. She grabbed your hand from behind, guiding you to split your own pussy apart for better access.

Abby loved you for shit like this, how you clenched as you approached a peak, how that sloppy white ring would collect on the blue of her dick. You needed to be fucked like this, to be reminded what happens when toys step out of line and give their owners problems, and she had no qualms with destroying your brain and rebuilding it piece by piece. She could die in this pussy.

Another bead of spit rained against you, a large gob deep in your asshole. She worked you, effortlessly, snapping her hips to batter your cunt every time, using you completely for her twisted desires, moving to slip her thumb into the taut ring for a better grip. You were on cloud nine, barely forming words, sounding like you were speaking in code. Just loud, loose moans ringing from your throat. Yeah, you were sure you’d have to get put on recess for a couple of days to survive the mental effects of this cock.

“Relax for me, babe.” she whispered, softly and sweetly removing her thumb from your tightest hole before the sensation was replaced with something larger, more foreign, cold and hard, and —shiiittt

Abigail Anderson was a fucking crazy person, pushing the ball tip of the hammer into your quivered hole, letting the handle rest on your back as she continued destroying you with no mercy. “Aww, my lil’ Mousey got her very own tail.” She teased, jiggling your ass with her free hand as she watched the brown handle tap against your back in time with her thrusts. You whimpered, and she wrenched your head back up with a firm palm on your neck to meet your eyes. “When Mommy tells a joke, Mousey fuckin’ laughs, right?” She growled into your ear, punctuating her anger with a harsh slap to your already bruised ass and a rough thrust, pounding your secret spot and sending you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You tried to force a giggle, but the sensations from your battered pussy warped the sound into a ragged moan, and you tried to whine, beg, sputter your way into her favour. All you could manage was the stupid repetition of ‘Mousey has a tail, Mousey has a tail!’ until it broke down into just ‘tailtailtailtailfuckkinnnntail’ and until that melted into nothing, just a cheap sob and a scream running through the forest as your orgasm ran through you in the form of floor-sprinkling rivulets and a clench around mommy’s cock.

You wanted to fall but she wouldn’t let you, wanted to cry but she didn’t let you, and then, everything was gone and she was around you, strong arms holding you up, steady hands wiping the dirt from your face, soft lips kissing you everywhere in spite of the dirt on your face. “Got you, Mouse. You’re okay, you’re with me.” She whispered, running a reassuring palm through your hand, moving down to massage the back of your neck.

“Wanna lay down?” She said, motioning to her pack. She always brought a blanket, clean clothes for you, water, snacks, her gun, so that you would never have to hold one with her around. She tried her best to unfurl the fabric with one hand, laying you down and wiping through your poor, swollen kitten with a cloth damp from her canteen. She redressed you, fresh panties, one of her tee-shirts, tented by the hard pebbles of your nipples sticking out. She spread out next to you, letting you find your way to the crook of her neck, to that chest-to-chest position you loved because you could feel her heartbeat like it was yours. she still loved you, of course, would kiss your cheeks and soothe the bruises she left behind and remind you what you have is a forever thing, but that sometimes you need the bad with the good. You were such a bad girl, too whiny and needy for your own good, a spoiled little monster *she* created, but she loved you because of it.

Yeah, she fucking loved you.

#anon messages!!#tiki answers #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson ff #abby smut #i dunno what to say like i'm shocked. had to put this under a cut because I was so fucking shocked!

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thatradfailure · 7 months

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Genderbent mercs. If you even care.

Notes about them under the cut because I put way too much thought into one off designs (even though Sniper and Scout technically aren't one off because I drew them before, came back, didn't like the designs, and decided to do an entire revamp and include three of their pals)

Sniper: Since she's a woman in a hypermasculine society (Australia) she probably grew up with extra pressure to also be hypermasculine, but failed a little extra hard because she's Woman. So, I gave her a lot of teeth jewelry for the intimidation factor they provide, as well as boots instead of regular shoes. I also gave her claw nails so that she can be perceived as extra dangerous. Otherwise, her short hair isn't necessarily a style she likes, but one she feels pressured to have to look more masculine and thus fit in better. I like the idea of fem!Sniper with braids tbh but couldn't see it fitting here.

Scout: Basically, she's both proud and insecure of her femininity. She dresses cute, she has cute stickers, and she constantly rubs it in people's face that they're being beat by a girl. But to be taken more seriously, she also masculinizes herself. Not her love of sports, that's natural, but she acts more boyish and speaks deeper than her natural register. Her young looks and immature attitude probably get her infantilized moreso than canon Scout, much to her great annoyance, which makes her double down on her boyish traits.

Medic: Honestly nothing too major to note. It was just important to me to get across that she's just as willing to sew a baboon uterus into a man as canon Medic is. Added a skirt because Medic is a prime and proper kinda guy, and heels because I think she deserves the intimidation factor.

Spy: Much like Medic, nothing too major to note. However, I think it's fairly evident that she looks the least like her canon character than the others. This is because men's and women's fashion is so different. She's also BLU in a RED lineup because I thought it'd be funny.

Engineer: Unlike the others, I actually based her design on concept art (the post I referenced specifically being here: https://www.tumblr.com/renposter/730118522655686656/official-gender-swapped-versions-of-the-tf2-roster?source=share). Specifically, the Rosie Rivets-esk hair for some of the fem!Heavy concepts, and the boots from one of the actual fem!Engineer concepts. I also included two little details- one is that her sleeve for her right arm is down, tucked into the glove. This is an allusion to her prosthetic hand, since a lot of people tend to have (needlessly) harsh beauty opinions about that, and beauty standards on women are. Especially harsh in the little details. Not to say they aren't harsh on men (I am so sorry you all are expected to look like Greek statues) but this post ain't about that. The second detail is the addition of the Teddy Roosevelt cosmetic, which is like a little good luck charm to her! There's no real reason, I just thought it'd look cute. Oh, and also she's about to bash Spy in with her wrench. Because she's the only one that's noticed. Unless Sniper knows but has stayed quiet about it because I'm a SniperSpy shipper-

#ThatFailure's Art #TF2 #Fem TF2 #Genderswap #Genderbend #Sniper TF2 #Team Fortress 2 #Fem Sniper TF2 #Scout TF2 #Fem Scout TF2 #Medic TF2 #Fem Medic TF2 #Spy TF2 #Fem Spy TF2 #Engineer TF2 #Fem Engineer TF2 #I'm not sorry for the rambling there's a reason I put it under a cut #I may have went overboard on Fem!Sniper's teeth accessories but it's important to me that she looks dangerous experienced and serious #Also I would wear that many teeth if I had the chance. Human and animal (the human part is a joke for legal reasons-)#Oh and #Archimedes TF2 #He's here too #Maybe I swapped the bird's gender Idk #I might do the other mercs some other time but not tonight because it's late #I'd include Pyro but literally as a joke because Pyro's gender is fire with a side of choose your own pronouns #To swap Pyro's gender would to make Pyro the Cyclops from the og Spongebob movie

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essektheylyss · 1 year

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I know you said you need to stop screaming first but I am EAGERLY awaiting your thoughts on Essek in the teaser

OKAY OKAY HERE GOES.

The thing is, there's no real reason to include him.

Yes, he's very popular, but he has never historically been included as a default, validly! He occupies a very interesting space mechanically and narratively, but he is still not a PC. Yes, he's part of the Mighty Nein as a group, per canon, but not until the end, which in theory would be well beyond the first season, and so is Cad, who is not present in this teaser—presumably to preserve the mystery around [INSERT MAJOR SPOILER WARNING HERE].

I would imagine that Cad is not present because having Taliesin's voice twice is too much of a tipoff for anyone watching LoVM but not the campaigns, whereas simply having Matt voice someone is not.

HOWEVER.

There are a decent number of lines that you could choose for Essek that are about the Nein—personally, my favorite, that I've thought previously would make a really stellar trailer line, is from 124: "You certainly carve a unique destiny, don't you?" Everything down to the way Matt delivers it (which you can see here) would make it a really viable option.

But the line they went with isn't about the Nein—it's very much a line about Essek himself. "I want to unlock these mysteries. I want to dive as deep as I can into that ocean of the unknown and see what is possible." It's a line that is very specific to Essek and his actions and goals, even beyond his involvement with the Nein.

And it's placed in the middle of the pack, which frames him on the same level as the rest of the Nein! Someone who is not familiar with the campaign would hear that as simply another protagonist. But of course, he's not—unless there is some serious restructuring (more even than the restructuring present in LoVM, which, aside from introducing a few of the initial less plot-bearing aspects later, like the Slayer's Take, it's thus far structured in order), he won't come into the show for quite some time, and almost certainly not in the first season.

But we don't really have any idea how this show will be structured. There are different comments on the beginning from different sources; notably, Gizmodo mentions Calianna being present in some way initially, while no one else does. The logline most outlets are reporting revolves the Nein "prevent[ing] the kingdom from plunging into chaos when an arcane artifact capable of reshaping reality falls into the wrong hands," presumably the beacon (my beloved).

So it makes sense to mention Essek, for, you know, the obvious reasons, as comment on the beacon itself. (I'm going to guess they're simplifying it to one beacon, per the press release, for ease lol.) But this line, while about dunamancy as a whole and the powers of the beacon, is not about it directly. It's still about Essek's interest in it. It is an excellent line, and on its face, it has nothing to do with the Nein or the plot of the first fifty episodes of the campaign.

There's plenty of speculation to be done about how this might be structured, and I'm sure I'll do plenty of it because, let's be honest, I do not shut up about adaptation and translating stories between formats, it is one of my absolute favorite subjects, and this is the Nein, babey!!!

So my point here being: I think there is a lot of room with the nature of Wildemount politics to get a little wild with structure in the translation from D&D game to TV show that, while not impossible in LoVM, wouldn't really have added anything to the story, and honestly, might've taken away from it. Because the point is to watch Vox Machina become the big damn heroes! We do see tidbits of Brimscythe and the Briarwoods beyond the purview of the heroes, but mostly in ways that feel very '80s cartoon villain cameo' which fits the feel of the show perfectly.

But there are a lot of political players and forces in Wildemount that the Nein navigate whether they're aware of them or not, one of whom of course becomes a member of their party, and that's part of what makes their story so interesting. The Nein are the heroes that no one knows, who are always playing within and against the system and are hyper aware of that, and I think expanding how much of that we get to see now that the format allows for it (not necessarily a lot, not to the point of adding whole plotlines, but at least some of it) would only add to the tension and stakes, and Essek's presence in the trailer makes me wonder if they will.

#not pictured: me sitting at my computer hollering while I power through writing both this and my fucking work emails #the work emails are uhhhh going fine. I'm being so productive. don't even worry about it.#(I am actually staying on top of things to be clear lmfao I also write very quickly)#critical role #mighty nein animated #cr spoilers #I gUESS???#cr meta #long post #anyway now someone ask me about how much I am chinhands kicking my heels thinking about the TONE of this show and lovm #I mean do not get me started. nope don't have time for it. BUT I'M FASCINATED ALREADY #sorry I didn't put it under a cut #I forgot I mentioned I was gonna while tagging

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