I finally caught up with the Witch Hat Atelier manga just in time for the anime, and to celebrate I'm bestowing it the highest honour in my mind:
Projecting Marvin and Jackie into it <3
I originally sketched them closer to Qifrey and Olruggio, but as I drew I tried to focus more on how I think they would be represented individually in the universe (though I did keep Marvin's fringe because I love it)!
Since I'm amalgamating my two biggest interests together, I'll give some extra details and close-ups under the cut!
I absolutely love the sealchairs, and I can see Jackie having a "timber wolf" (haha) that I like to imagine does well on uneven terrain like grass and dirt while running at higher speeds.
I tried to reimagine Marvin's magician traits in his design without the mask to cover his face, and it was @glass-trash-bab to add the ruffles in his cloak to replicate playing cards! Yes, I did them all by hand, and yes you can hardly see them with his colour palette- but I really love how they came out regardless aaaa
I have so many ideas floating around in my head for an AU that I'd love to delve into!!
Willow Mist Playlist
(Rewritten)
Words: 4, 585
TW: Graphic descriptions of untreated injuries, vomit, medical neglect, character distress
Summary: Marvin receives a black wax seal and an urgent request for his presence after Jackie is gravely wounded, yet upon his delayed arrival, he is instantly filled with rage.
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"Where is he!?" Marvin exclaimed at the robed woman who stood in front of him. "Take me to him; I know he's here!"
"I've already told you– unauthorised visitors are not permitted in the wards," she replied sharply, her hands tucked serenely into long, cobalt-blue sleeves. Judgement drenched her honeyed tone, and her eyes flitted up and down at his dishevelled appearance to drink in the impurities. "Especially outsiders."
Marvin's mouth fell agape, and his eyes flared, a vengeful anger coursing down the swirling intricacies of his tattoos. Her eyebrow perked on her deceivingly docile face, challenging his temper. His jaw clamped taut as the rebukes on his tongue withered into furious silence. He shoved her aside, ignored her outcry, and briskly pushed open the finely aged oak door.
Not a single creak escaped the hinges as it revealed the ward behind it.
The nurse yelled at his back, yet Marvin had already marched down the aisle, eyes frantically scanning the staring faces. Soft, spotless linens dressed each neatly occupied bed, and patients lay in a state of evident relaxation. Some were immersed with relatives, others content with books or journals. Not a single drop of blood besmirched the ward and its pristine bandages, and skin was left matte and sweatless.
Handmade garlands and talismans adorned the white walls, and the air was perfumed with sweet tones of lemongrass and chamomile. There could not have been more than half a dozen patients, yet there were twice as many nurses. They spoke in the same sweetened voice as they conversed with one another, served tea, and tended to faded bruises.
Marvin's mere presence disrupted the harmony, and soft laughter met a swift end in place of confounded silence. Dozens of eyes landed on him, yet none belonged to Jackie, so he pressed onward. He passed under an embellished archway, quickening his pace when he caught the blue robes in the corner of his eyes.
Marvin's eyes were bloodshot and puffy, with only adrenaline left to keep them open. Once immaculate clothes were ruffled, untucked, and stained with dried sweat from endless confinement in a wagon. He tracked mud into the marble floor with every step, wavering with fleeting hesitation as his legs threatened to give out.
A crumpled epistle was clenched in his hand like a lifeline despite its broken black seal. The kingdom's crest remained unpainted, a shadow against its contents.
It had appeared in his hand twenty-six hours ago in a plume of unrefined magic and had not left it since.
He'd read it repeatedly through the gruelling hours of his journey. The words burned, and Seán's pen was a red hot iron that branded him with every swirling letter.
Jackie is alive. The first line read in thick, hastily written ink in hopes of soothing the black seal's bad tidings. However, he has undergone grave injuries to his chest and abdomen during an attempt on my life during the early hours of the night. At the time of writing this, he is being treated by Crelith's healers and is to be taken into their infirmary. I request your most immediate presence, if possible.
Seán
Handwritten words could only provide so much justice as to what he would face, so his imagination raced. Fabricated images grew grotesque with every stranger's face, a frantic attempt to cushion the blow he was hurtling towards at full speed.
Eyes leered at him, the outsider. Blue-robed figures called after him, shunning his panic. He was disturbing the peace, unorderly, unauthorised. Hands reached to grab him, but he swerved out of the way.
Marvin continued down the hallway, his heel teetering with yet another threat to collapse. The infirmary was a series of archways leading into bright, winding hallways. He could see wall-to-wall from one ward to another, yet no sign of Jackie. Sunlight poured through open windows and crystal suncatchers, casting coloured shadows across resting patients' cheeks. It caught Marvin's tattoos as he walked by, and they shifted like kaleidoscopes in tones of deep, intense red.
Panic festered in his chest when he was left with only two archways at the end of the hall. He turned right yet saw nothing but an empty ward, the walls displaying their handmade decorations as proudly as a soldier's medals. Then, he spun on his heel and grasped the left side's ornate frame.
He saw supply cabinets, shelves, and counters organised like display cases. The staff inside looked up from their respective busywork; their lips parted in shock. Long, cobalt-blue sleeves draped over their hands.
Henrik would have scoffed at the sight.
Impractical, he would have called it. What use would robes do you when you're elbow-deep in blood and excrement?
"Sir, I am going to have to escort you—" a hand grasped his shoulder. Marvin swerved and shoved the nurse against the wall without a second thought. His eyes met with a face frozen to silence as he snatched his collar.
"Tell me where he is!" He demanded.
The nurse's mouth remained agape and soundless. His eyes instinctively flitted to an opaque navy curtain at the end of the hall, like he already knew.
Marvin let go without another word and marched towards it. He tore it back, expecting to see a private ward, but met with a winding stone staircase instead.
With no time to acknowledge the pit in his stomach, Marvin descended them as voices called out to no avail. His cape billowed wildly behind him, his fleeting footsteps echoing in his ears.
He pulled down his hood upon reaching the bottom and shook his unkempt mane of curls from his face as he scoured the hallway.
While its layout reflected the floor above, one would be forgiven for believing it to be a different building entirely.
Worn floorboards replaced the cool marble of the upstairs, the archways with doors, and the white walls a rough stone brick devoid of decoration. A few smouldering sconces which stood in place of windows provided enough light to navigate.
Each footstep deafened him compared to the stagnant silence as he walked the barren corridor. His stomach twisted upon itself as the smell of old wood and dust drifted into something putrid. Beneath the creaking wood, he drew closer to the wrenching sound of laboured breathing.
It led him to the third doorway.
When Marvin finally stopped, his blood ran cold.
The first thing that hit him was the smell.
It was beyond description. It was every foul scent combined in an abhorrent wave.
Marvin inhaled with shuddering breaths.
The room was dark, save for a melted candlestick and a slither of sunlight peering through the thick drapes. Unlike the empty ward reflected above, this was a single room big enough for a thin cot and a battered bedside table. A chest rose and fell arduously upon stained sheets, dressed haphazardly in hardened and bloodied bandages. Candlelight highlighted the sweat which drenched his flushed skin and clumped his tangled hair to his forehead.
The only decoration to be seen was a small prayer idol on the nightstand, sat next to a half-burned stick of incense that did nothing to coat the reek of infection, and a glass coin. It was a gift, an offering—payment in exchange for the collection of one's spirit.
Marvin dropped the crumpled letter in an instant. "Jackie!" He ran to his side and laid his hand on his arm, only to recoil when heat seared his fingertips. With a gentle touch, he replaced his hand, tears pricking his eyes as pain burrowed deep into his soul. "Darling—"
Jackie's bruised eyelids flickered in recognition, then just barely opened. His mouth moved as though to speak but could not form a word when his body was so intent on breathing. Up close, Marvin saw every nauseating detail.
His chapped lips and swollen neck glands signalled infection and dehydration, while his drenched, pasty skin was nothing short of a fever. Vomit had dried around his mouth, across his chest, down the sides of his head, and the grimy sheets beneath him. He lay with his head uncomfortably propped against his shoulder, clearly in an attempt to lift himself before he could choke, yet lacked the strength to lay down again.
Marvin sat down in what little space remained on the bed, uncaring of the filth. His legs felt boneless the moment he took the weight off them, yet he didn't care. He tried to breathe, yet his breath hitched against the stench of neglect.
"Darling, it's me," he leaned closer, blinking tears from his eyes that dripped on Jackie's cheek, "c-can you hear me?" Heartbreak trembled in his voice as he cupped his burning face in his cold palm and watched him exhale. "What did they do to you?!"
Less than a week ago, Jackie stood tall and proud, his posture as perfect as his poise. Citizens and knights alike followed him with the utmost trust in his intellect and wit, never once faltered by fear or exertion under his guidance. He was the image of dedication, the kingdom's commander, Marvin's world.
Before he stepped into that carriage, he looked back at him, then Raylon in his arms, and grinned.
Now he lay here, left to rot while they did nothing.
They did nothing.
Marvin's eyes shot open from their despair, and turned his attention to the bandages, his sorrow sparking into fury.
"These bandages should have been changed a day ago"—he brushed his hand over them and knew immediately that the blood had dried into the wound below—"they are not even secured." Jackie twitched in pain against his touch. "I need to treat them before this gets any worse."
Marvin's legs ached in complaint as he forced himself to his feet again, yet he held no mercy for himself. "I-I have to fetch supplies, but I won't go far." He combed Jackie's stringy hair away from his face and kissed his forehead. "I– I'll find everything you need and I'll come straight back to you, I promise."
Jackie remained motionless. His breaths rattled and sputtered in his lungs.
Marvin ran with the same pace as he did when he chased wagons, trekked across fields to the merchant roads, and hunted for the infirmary. Desperation clung to him with razor-like claws, ever-mutating now that his worst anxieties were proven reality.
He slipped on the steps, then caught himself on the wall and kept leaping up them.
The stream of daylight which caught his eyes sickened him far more than that room ever could. He winced against its force, barely acknowledging the blue robes, and shoved fearlessly at anyone who dared get in his way.
Marvin's eyes adjusted to the light upon entering the supply room, and so too did his anger level into a focused simmer. He ignored those who attempted to intervene and scavenged the pristine stock.
He spared a glance at the labels, then tossed them haphazardly aside when they weren't what he was searching for. Ointments, medical salts, fresh bandages, a heap of fresh cloths, sponges— it was endless.
When his arms could not carry any more, his magic swept them up weightlessly instead. The staff shuffled away from his rampage, congregating in the corners like frightened animals. No one dared interrupt him or challenge the shimmering red coursing through his tattoos – all except one.
Marvin reached for a water pitcher, but a whitish-blue sleeve snatched it before he could.
"What do you think you're doing!?" An older man demanded, grabbing his arm to tear him away.
"Don't you dare touch me!" Marvin yanked back his arm, wisps of red fire flaring in his eyes. "I am treating my husband's injuries!"
The matron caught on from a simple glance at his dishevelled appearance and the crest upon his cloak pin.
"Oh, I see. You're his visitor," he said with a bitter sneer on his ageing features. "As you are an outsider, you must be unaware of our law, so I will allow you a single warning." He turned to the staff to rally them like hunting dogs, but they remained silent. "Knights are prohibited from prioritised treatment, so refrain immediately before I deem you a thief and call the guards!"
"I implore you to," Marvin challenged his stare with his own and snatched another pitcher, "but if any of you come near him, there won't be the breath of a soul left to take to the Afterlife when I am finished."
The matron's jaw went taut with silence, and his face flushed as red as a beetroot. Marvin didn't care so long as he was out of his way.
When he left the supply room, his arms were full again, and bundles of supplies trailed upon wisps behind him. Blue robes retreated to allow him passage as he descended the staircase once more.
It wasn't until he was back in the wretched hallway that his cold glare thawed. His pace quickened to match his heartrate, and he frantically blinked tears from his eyes when they blurred his vision.
Jackie remained precisely as he left him. Still breathing.
Another wave of magic raised the rest of the supplies into the air as Marvin swept the offering onto the floor.
He would not lose anyone else. Not him; especially not him.
The supplies organised themselves onto the nightstand in its place while he climbed over the cot to reach the window. He pulled down the drapes, then wrenched its stiffened lock open. Light and fresh air flooded in, yet Jackie winced away from its glare.
A large pitcher poured water autonomously into three ceramic bowls and a drinking cup. Marvin plucked the cup from the air and slid his hand under Jackie's head, lifting it just enough to coax it to his lips.
The moment the cool water pooled into his mouth, Jackie swallowed. His eyelids flickered once more, and he attempted to raise his head to no avail. He gulped it down with reckless abandon, barely allowing himself to breathe and spluttering when his body heaved again.
"Drink slowly, love..." Marvin whispered tearfully, yet Jackie's lips chased the cup when he attempted to ease it.
He continued to gulp even when the cup fell empty, so Marvin drew back to refill it and let him drink again. His eyes never even opened.
Half a teaspoon of salt stirred itself into one of the ceramic bowls, and Marvin retrieved it to dip a sponge into. He then used it to soak the encrusted bandages, and though his touch was overly careful, Jackie still cried out in pain.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my darling," he wept sorrowfully, unable to heed the twitching features that undoubtedly begged him to stop. All he could do was dunk the sponge again, squeeze out the excess, and paint the solution across his bandages until they finally exhaled from his wounds. "I know it hurts, but this will help your infection..."
Jackie didn't hear him. All he registered was pain.
The bandages crackled quietly as Marvin peeled them back, yet his stomach lurched upon laying eyes on what lay beneath. He could only stare while his mind hurtled back into his worst anxieties.
Two deep lacerations festered on his chest and abdomen, just as the letter had described. Both were slashed at a diagonal angle, the one on his abdomen slightly thinner to suggest the blade caught him off guard. The wound in his chest suggested the attacker utilised the opening and drove again with pure, deliberate malice.
While they were near-fatal, and scars were unavoidable, the healing process should have been linear. By now, they should have closed over to form thin, clean lines.
Instead, he saw two gaping cavities. What had not been split open was swollen, jagged, and yellowed with infection. Exposed muscles stretched and contracted with each sore breath, and ridges of broken flesh collected puddles of blood like rock pools.
"Oh my gods–" Marvin uttered in horror, choking on the urge to retch.
It took every ounce of strength to continue, withhold the sweltering magic that sought to burn this kingdom to ash, and keep from wailing.
With nothing else to do but restrain himself, Marvin cleaned.
He wiped dried blood and soured ointment until dark bruises revealed themselves on his ribs, rubbed salve into rashes, and soaked infection. Another bowl of water, soap, and linen cloths washed away the sweat and grime, followed by a gentle towel to dry his skin.
Clean bandages looked like snow compared to the old set discarded on the floor, so filthy that they maintained the shape of Jackie's body.
With the wounds finally dressed, Marvin turned his attention downward to the trousers that were unchanged from that night, and removed them entirely. There, Jackie gave one of his only reactions: a twinge in his brow that expressed nothing but humiliation.
"It's alright," Marvin soothed as he sponged it all away into an afterthought, "it's alright, darling, it's not your fault. Do not fret."
It was tended to and forgotten without another word, and Marvin folded his cloak over him to maintain his modesty once finished.
Jackie's chest sunk in a deep exhale, his eyes eternally closed, yet his expression echoed relief. Marvin looked at him and felt no pride.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his throat burned with stifled sobs.
Empty bottles, dirty water, and sullied cloths were scattered across the floor, the order in which they started with all but gone. Jackie was clean, yet the sheets were still stained, the air was still heavy, and the smell still lingered.
Pain remained evident in Jackie's every breath.
I will slaughter every single one of them.
"I'll find Seán, and we'll bring you home, I promise..." Marvin stroked back his hair and reached to slip his fingers between his, "I've got you—"
"Stop right where you are!" The voice spurred Marvin onto his feet in an instant.
Three knights stormed into the tightly packed room, clad in light steel armour and plum-coloured capes. Marvin leapt over the cot to stand between them and Jackie, angling himself to shield him from their prying eyes.
Behind them, the matron's eyes scanned the mess of supplies, then landed on Marvin with utter contempt. "You will surrender yourself this instant!" He exclaimed and jabbed his finger at him. "Knights are forbidden from excessive treatment – I warned you of our law, yet you have stolen and wasted precious resources on a lowly sentry!"
Marvin could not find the words.
His mouth hung open, then clamped taut with his teeth bared. Runes shattered in his fist, cracking open to release a surge of extinct magic. Crimson flames roared with erratic bursts within his clawed hands, flooding his palms like fresh blood—
"He's going to attack– restrain him, now!"
The guards' longswords scraped against their sheaths as they were freed with a sharpened hiss. Subdued sunlight bled across the blades.
They pointed directly at Marvin as though intent on giving him wounds to match his husband. He reared back, prepared to tear them to—
"That is enough!" A booming voice cut between them.
The matron turned towards the staircase, and his eyes shot wide at the sight before him. He took half a step back before reason got the better of him, then practically collapsed into a bow.
The guards shuffled aside to make way for the visiting prince and the two knights accompanying him.
One – none other than Jaxon, Jackie's protégé – bore their kingdom's crest upon his armour alongside a red cape. The other looked identical to the guards, clad in light steel and purple: a substitute, a replacement provided by royalty like a new toy.
Seán's face grew horrified as the sight and stench hit him all at once. A sharp gasp escaped before he could suppress it, only to feign apathy a moment later.
While Jaxon immediately averted his gaze, the substitute stared. His stern expression conveyed disapproval, eyeing his injuries as though he deserved to bleed. Marvin caught his gaze and stepped in front of his view, yet his rebuke never got the chance to step beyond his mind.
"You are dismissed." Seán pointed his attention to all five guards, and Jaxon promptly left, standing post a few feet away with his back turned. The others, however, shuffled awkwardly on the spot and inevitably glanced towards the cot, to which the prince raised his voice. "I said you are dismissed."
Eyes which did not belong to close family or medics were restricted from witnessing a knight's, let alone a commander's, recovery. To see a protector's lowest point was only for those who knew them well enough to care.
The magic within Marvin's palms faded, then disappeared like snuffed candlelight. He watched Jaxon strictly turn the substitute knight by his shoulder to keep him from staring.
"What is the meaning of this?" Seán demanded, his tone wavering dangerously between emotion and diplomacy.
"They left him down here to die!" Unlike the prince, Marvin's tone broke under the weight of his restrained fury, yet he clenched his fists to maintain that farce strength. "His wounds are infected and split open because they refused to heal him!"
"You requested that he be given a private room, your highness." The matron fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, barely capable of meeting the prince's eye.
"I requested as such to uphold my kingdom's principle of maintaining my knight's privacy," Seán's voice was cold, his shoulders squared in a perfect, steadfast posture, "I was reassured that he had received your kingdom's best treatment."
"You simply caught us in a transitional period, sire." The matron could not even lift his chin to spout those words.
Marvin stood there helplessly as the matron cornered himself behind flimsy excuses. Everything began to sink upon him, and that mask of strength gradually slipped from his features.
Tears threatened his eyes once more when he felt a warm touch graze his hand, then weakly hook around his fingers. When he turned around, Jackie's soft blue eyes were half-open, weighed extensively by pain and exhaustion. He immediately sat down at his side and ran his fingers through his hair to comfort him. His lips trembled as he kissed Jackie's knuckles and his weary eyes.
"T-This does not excuse the matter of this man"—the matron waved his finger towards Marvin. What he wouldn't give to snap it—"invading our premises. Not only has he distressed our patients, he has stolen our valued resources—"
"I requested Marvin's presence myself," Seán replied in a deceiving impression of solace, "he has every right to be here as his husband."
"Yes, well—"
"As for the supposed theft, I believe that he used the resources necessary to treat his injuries, an amount that certainty would have been reduced had my knight been treated from the start."
"They didn't want me down here because they knew they've left him to rot while they played pretend," Marvin snapped, his eyes glaring viciously while he cradled Jackie in his arms, "they just hoped he'd die before we arrived!"
Seán raised his hand to command his silence and maintain the room's fragile composure. It took every ounce of delirious strength for Marvin not to scream.
His face flushed red with anger and humiliation, and his teeth clamped shut. Tears stung his eyes.
Jackie's thumb drifted faintly over his skin.
"I understand you have other patients, yet they were all well cared for when I passed through," Seán added.
"But, your highness, he is only a knight," the matron gave a nervous chuckle drenched in an undertone of smug authority. Any sense of control he wielded upstairs had all but evaporated, evident by how he fiddled with his sleeves. "Knights are sworn to protect and serve with their very lives– t-they are trained to be replaced and regarded as examples. In cases such as these, citizens take priority. It is not natural to w– spend the resources that can be used to treat more essential figures."
Marvin's magic almost surged right then and there, yet Seán kept his hands behind his back, his voice level.
"Jackson was the only one injured during the attack," he pointed out, and the matron's face paled, "he should have been tended to immediately." While he maintained a perfect poise, Marvin knew him well enough to recognise his irritation. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were tinted white. "I respect this kingdom's outlook on its protectors, but Jackson is under my rule and is therefore my responsibility. It was not for you to deny him healing."
"But–"
"Or must your royal court be informed of the political concerns that arise with the conscious, unwarranted refusal to heal an ally?" He raised an eyebrow. "Let alone my chosen guardian and kingdom's commander?"
Marvin busied himself with tightening Jackie's bandages to hide the smirk twitching on his lips.
The matron's eyes bulged again. "No, no, your highness, that will not be necessary–"
"Then do not prevent my mage from doing his job." With that, Seán turned away, ending the conversation with a flick of his hand. "You are dismissed. Leave us be."
The matron nodded and bowed again before scurrying off, leaving them to mull in that moment. Only when they heard his footsteps fade out of earshot did Seán's poise falter and his exhale tremble.
"What an insufferable bastard..." he sighed, rubbed his eyes, and turned to rest his hand on Marvin's back, "I am so sorry."
Marvin brushed his fingers over the stray strands of Jackie's hair, fresh tears trickling down well-worn streaks upon his cheeks.
"They kept me busy, yet reassured me he was recovering, it wasn't until I was informed of your arrival did I– i-if I'd have known, I–" he sighed again, "oh gods, I'm so sorry."
Marvin shook his head, turning to spare him an exhausted, quivering smile. "This was not your fault, please do not blame yourself, you did not know." His smile faded as he turned back to Jackie, too broken to express the forgiveness he felt. Yet, despite it all, he rested his hand on Jackie's chest and allowed a gentle pink light to blossom beneath it.
"Is he going to be okay?" Seán asked anxiously, gazing upon his brother with heartbreak.
Marvin shrank at the mere question, and his arms wound around Jackie to cradle him to his chest. "We need to bring him home..." Pink threads twirled across his wounded body and sought to sew up the gaping lacerations. They wove into the bruising until the blotches on his ribs and eyelids faded. Jackie murmured incoherently.
It wasn't enough to fix him or even open his eyes, but at least his next breath drew deeper.
Seán rubbed Marvin's back, nodding thoughtlessly before he spurred himself back to life and blinked the tears from his eyes. "I'll have a carriage summoned for us immediately," he said, squeezing his shoulder, "Jaxon will make sure no one comes near you in the meantime."
Marvin rested his head on Jackie's with the utmost care, only strong enough to manage a meagre nod.
The prince mirrored his nod and left it at that, taking a deep breath to force his composure before stepping outside to speak with the guards.
Jackie's chest rose and fell against Marvin's palm. His hand gradually drifted arduously to finally rest with his, exhaling as their fingers intertwined.
"You're okay now..." Marvin whispered into his hair. "You're okay..."
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So the original story was one of my favourite stories I've ever written, but I never liked how it progressed, so I rewrote it! It was also fun to show what Seán is like as s prince! He's definitely not one to argue with.
I love stories where the tables turn and the others, especially Seán protect Jackie!
Thank you for reading!
My writing has been flopping real bad lately, so reblogs are greatly appreciated! :) /np
Author’s Note: This is a separate timeline for a short series and just a bit of non-canon fun!
CW: Arguments and family tension, and character death mention
Words: 4, 032
Summary: Willow Mist broke apart after the death of their brother, and Jameson makes one last desperate attempt to bring them all together again.
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Five letters were written that autumn night. Each was a near-exact replica of the last, the only difference being the receiver’s name. From Jameson’s words, scribed in Shawn’s hand, five pleas were created. They were each sealed with wax as dark as a glowing kingdom’s sky and stamped with identical initials.
Misfits Jackie often had rough days when he was younger, so Marv would make sure he was alright and had a little company when he didn’t want to come out from under the covers!
This is just a quick, lazy comic, but I love it <3
What did Misfit! Anti look like before he was at the cabin?
He's wondering if you ate and drank water today! Also, since he had no memory of being human, he shaped his eyes like a flower to appear more friendly!
"hmm humans like flowers? okay I will become one, and there will be no reason to be scared of me if they ever see me!"
This is roughly what he looks like in his original humanoid form, but much more ethereal for my skill level, lmao!
We haven’t seen any WM! Schneeplebro in awhile- Could we get a one shot of that? /np
Sure, I’ve missed them a lot!
Words: 1, 600
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Chase leaned back against the balls of his feet and observed the empty snare with undeniable disappointment. It upheld its integrity without fault, much like his other traps, and yet none of them had tripped. Perhaps he’d have to rotate his hunting spot. A monster could’ve very easily have wandered into the safe zone and disrupted the wildlife.
“This one is empty too,” He said aloud, standing up with a grunt, “Guess we’ll have to head to the market instead.”
He turned around with a half-hearted smile, expecting to see Henrik behind him as he had been throughout their walk. Yet instead of meeting his intelligent eyes, he saw nothing but the forest’s lush, overgrown landscape. His gaze then landed on the tree Henrik had been previously stood by and spotted his chestnut walking cane rested against its aged, moss-coated trunk.
Chase’s brow furrowed with concern and confusion. He walked over to the cane and picked it up, scanning the narrow spaces between the towering trees for any sign of his lover. His fingers closed around the shaft of the cane, and he called his name at speaking volume.
When there was no response, he felt that persistent fear creep across his skin like frost. It was as cold as it was irrational, but it had been lingering like an animal in his head ever since he lost him. There it waited patiently for the perfect moment to send him spiralling into a panic that would be unheard of in his previous years. Those years they believed they were indestructible.
Yet there was still some part of him, however dwindling, that remained as calm as he used to be. He took a deep breath and attempted to remember his younger years when a situation like this would only warrant a shrug. When Henrik didn’t respond to his name the second time, Chase slipped the cane into his quiver for safekeeping.
He pushed his thumb and middle finger into the corners of his mouth and released a brisk, high-pitched whistle that echoed up into the air. Birds rustled from the trees above in colourful, fleeting blurs and the alarmed beating of wings. Silence followed for a moment, which was enough time for Chase to feel his chest tighten.
A second, equally brisk whistle responded, and Chase reckoned it only to be a few hundred yards northwest. He pulled his bow out from its clasp as he hurried towards the sound, nocking an arrow into the drawstring and pulling it back in preparation.
He stepped out into the clearing through grass and shrubbery, where he met with the briar thicket. It stood almost seven feet and stretched unhindered across the open grass, slowly laying claim to all it could as unbothered years went by. Henrik stood in front of it within a streak of sunlight pouring through the spaces within the branches. He was picking blackberries and gathering them into a handkerchief held in his other hand.
Chase sighed deeply and returned his arrow to his quiver in place of the walking cane. He turned to him again and observed his back, where the sunlight glowed over his wings and his scar. It overtook the space between his wings like a bursting star, the slight, pinkish ridges casting the faintest shadows against his skin.
“You scared me, Henrik,” He said as he walked over to him, “Don’t wander off like that...”
Henrik turned around and smiled at him, presenting the blackberries in the handkerchief with glee. As Chase began talking, he picked one from his gathered bunch.
“You should not leave your walking cane behind, either,” Chase said, putting his bow away, “What if your legs give out and something happened to get into the safe zone—” A blackberry being pushed against his lips cut him off, and he ate it without thinking. Then, before he could speak again, Henrik grabbed him by his tunic and pulled him into a kiss.
Henrik drew back a few seconds later and licked his lips, looking at Chase’s face as he flushed red. Brody’s eyes opened in a slow flutter to see his relaxed, genuine smile brighten his freckled face.
“I’m alright,” He said softly, using his free hand to gently caress his cheek.
Chase, after all thought evaporated from his mind, dumbly offered the walking cane to him. He swallowed the blackberry with a flustered gulp and brushed his fingers over his hand as he took the cane.
“Y...You...” He sighed heavily again, unable to cohesive words. “Hm...”
“Do you doubt me so much that you think I cannot defend myself?” Henrik asked with a jesting, light-hearted tone.
“Of course not, sweetheart, it’s just...” Chase gestured to the cane and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I get worried...”
“You seem to forget how well I can fight,” Henrik said, arms held behind his back with dignity. “And I do live in this forest. I have slain far more monsters than you give me credit for!”
“Oh, how I’ve missed your humility,” Chase chuckled, rolling his eyes.
Henrik laughed, his head leaning back. The sunlight caught his glasses and glinted brightly like a flickering star, and Chase grinned at him.
When their laughter died down again, Henrik slipped his arm around Chase’s back, followed by his large wing. He leaned in closer and lovingly kissed his temple.
“I am alright, mein liebling, I promise you,” He then said with more heart, then showed him the blackberries, “I just remembered the briar was nearby and thought we could share some blackberries.”
“It’s alright, so as long as you’re safe,” Chase replied.
“Did you have any luck with the traps?”
“No, none of them tripped,” He shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment. “I figured something might have scared off the wildlife, like a monster, for example... I will most likely have to rotate my trapping grounds.”
“Do not worry, I will cook something when we get home,” Henrik rubbed his back, “Come on, I will take you somewhere to rest for a while.”
The pair walked side-by-side down faint desire paths trodden into existence from years of animals and travellers passing through. Trees tall as towers created a green-tinted ceiling with sunlight shimmering like fish scales across the grass, mushrooms, and flowers.
Chase breathed in the smell of wet soil and stone, then soon heard the steady rush of the river Raynia, one of Exleche’s calmer sisters, as the folktale would tell. Henrik didn’t tend to approach Exleche after what happened to him all those years ago.
The river caught their eyes with its dappled lustre, and Chase stepped out into the clearing where light beamed down so vividly it was as if the air itself was woven in gold. Water rushed seamlessly over rocks like silk, gradually smoothing them into spheres like immortal sculptors. Henrik ambled over to a small curve in the land maintained by an old, twisting tree whose roots were too stubborn to erode. He took a seat, resting his walking cane across his lap.
Chase sat down beside him and leaned his back against its rough trunk. He watched as Henrik lowered the berries into the river and washed them, humming softly to himself. Once satisfied, he laid out the purple-stained handkerchief between them, then licked away the juice that had seeped through onto his thumb.
As he put a blackberry into his mouth, he shuffled closer and moved the handkerchief onto Henrik’s lap so he could put his arm around him. The angel’s soft, snow-white wing followed through, wrapping around him again.
Chase watched the fish swim down the current contently, yet his fingers were tracing each exploded point of Henrik’s scar. He knew its shape by heart since the memory of that day frequently kept him awake at night. Slowly, his body started to sink, his chewing slowed, and his eyes glazed over without realising. The fish became streaks, and the world around him just shapes. As the silence settled into his mind, so did that lingering fear. It began to creep out of its hiding place, releasing those thoughts that he always tried to push down.
“Ow!” Chase flinched suddenly as Henrik pinched his side, and with one blink, his eyes returned to the present. “What was that for?!”
“You were getting worried you were dreaming again...” Henrik said calmly, with the reassurance that what was happening occurred almost every day. Chase had shaken him awake one night, in tears, asking him if he was dreaming in fear of falling asleep and returning to a reality where he wasn’t there. Henrik had been confused, but once he realised what was lingering in his mind whenever his body would sink, it was impossible to imagine anything else. “I just wanted to show you that you aren’t.”
“Oh,” Chase sighed, his posture slumping with guilt. “I’m sorry, sweetheart...”
Henrik reached up, brushing his hair out of his eyes and tucking it into his messenger cap. He smiled, then took another blackberry to coax to his lips. “Do not be,” He said as Chase ate it, “I know it must’ve been so difficult...but I’m here, and I promise I won’t go anywhere...”
Brody exhaled through his nose, unable to maintain misery next to him. His tone was so genuine; anyone could believe he had power over his future. But for once, he didn’t let those thoughts overtake him again and waste a precious moment. Instead, he chewed the blackberry and held him closer while they revelled in the sweet summer taste.
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I adore them, I had no idea how much I missed writing for them!
Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)
Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*
Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!
Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.
Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.
Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!
Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.
Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family.
Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.
Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)
Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.
Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)
Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.
Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!
Bloodbranded:
Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.
Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!
Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!
Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.
That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^
Henrik pulled them out of bed at 4am to talk about the new patrol plans he’d come up with! They definitely didn’t listen much-
Apparently Jackie likes dinosaurs now (I asked friends for design help and they all said dinosaurs lmao) - I feel like he’d say dinosaurs are cool and the others do the family thing of getting him nothing but dinosaur-themed gifts for the next 3 years.
we see a lot of angst happen with misfit Jackie and how Marvin handles it but... what if it was the other way around.? how would Jackie react if it was Marvin instead
Oh boy, it's super hard to hurt him! Simply because he's practically untouchable when it comes to physical harm/kidnap attempts, so this is all I could think of! (sorry Marv! D:)
TW: Bear trap, hunters
Words: 1, 902
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Jackie’s earshot up in alarm the second Marvin’s scream echoed through the forest. He spun around and dropped his comic book into the dirt, immediately sprinting into the trees towards the source. Without hesitation or even a pause to think, he delved further into the forest and stormed through its dense, maze-like landscape. His heart began to hammer in his chest like a drum. The burning adrenaline flooded through his system and drugged him into a determined frenzy of anxiety that could only focus ahead.
It was near enough impossible not to call out for Marvin, but he managed to bite his tongue as not to alert any possible attackers. Jackie sprinted through grass and shrubbery without care, trampling whatever he came into contact with. He leapt over rocks and fallen trees, and with every step, he felt the violence within him spiral further out of control. There was no second scream, which only fuelled his panic and urge to tear through anyone who dare lay a finger on his boyfriend. The silence never deterred him, and he continued forward to the waterfall where Marvin said he’d be.
His ear perked right to the sound of rough, unfamiliar voices in the distance, and he honed in on them with a snarl. The sound was cloaked by the consistent, heavy rush of the waterfall nearby, and it was likely that the trespassers knew that before attacking. At least, it was better to assume that instead of thinking otherwise as not to allow them the upper hand. If they’d calculated past their patrols, then there was no telling what else they knew. Jackie bared his teeth as the voices grew closer like a wolf trained on its prey. That instinct to bite and tear was something he couldn’t control, nor did he want to.
After passing between large trees, Jackie saw Marvin. Maskless and gagged, he struggled against a hunter’s iron grip on his arm. A bear trap was clamped around his right leg, and a second man with a rifle struggled to remove the chain from the tree it was fastened to. It didn’t matter to Jackie to question why Marvin was unable to melt himself free. He didn’t care if he was physically or emotionally unable; all that mattered was that he was hurt and in need of help.
Without stopping, Jackie jumped up onto a rock and sprung forward with a vicious snarl. He landed on the man dragging Marvin through the grass and sunk his teeth into the back of his neck. The hunter screamed bloody murder and staggered as Jackie dropped his feet into the ground and dug his claws through cloth and flesh. Like a wild, amoral animal, he bit down harder and threw his head aside, tossing the heavyweight man into a tree like he was as small as the animals he hunted.
Yet he didn’t even give him the mercy of a second to breathe as he descended onto him and drove his claws into his chest. The hunter shrieked wildly for his accomplice’s help, yet Jackie bit and slashed his arms when they made any attempt of fighting or escaping. Bones crunched between his teeth, and blood splattered everywhere he looked, but he already saw red.
He could spare no pity for him because he knew what they would do with Marvin the second they captured him. They signed their lives away the moment they laid that trap.
The only thing that prevented him from tearing the man’s throat out was a blunt force that struck his temple like a pebble. Yet the thunderous snap that paired with it confirmed it to be a bullet, which ricocheted off of Jackie’s skin and lodged into a tree trunk. His head snapped towards him, teeth inches away from the first man’s jugular, and he watched him fumble to load more bullets into the gun.
A second shot fired as the werewolf ran towards him, yet it deflected off of his chest and disappeared in a glint of sunlight. The rifle thudded as it was thrown into the grass, and the hunter took off in the other direction, but Jackie lunged and bit down on his leg. He collapsed into the dirt before he could even reach the end of the clearing and was dragged backwards as his fingers clawed for an escape.
Jackie overpowered him effortlessly. In a mess of blood, teeth, and claws, he forced the man to the very brink of death. His jaw clamped around his throat like the bear trap that wounded Marvin, and almost every part of him screamed at him to rip it out. Yet, there was still some shred of him that was loud enough to be considered. It offered a shred of mercy, one that wordlessly promised them life as long as they escaped and never returned.
He threw the second man into the first, knocking them both down in the process. They scrambled and yelled in pure terror, pulling at each other to stand and ultimately knocking each other over again. Jackie spat the blood into the grass and flinched towards them, and they scurried off as fast as they could, smearing blood across the greenery.
Jackie panted breathlessly, his skin tingling from the adrenaline and dripping with blood that didn’t belong to him. Yet it was Marvin’s cry that snapped him out of his trance, and he clumsily wiped the blood onto his shirt as he hurried over to him.
“Marv!” He exclaimed and hastily reached out to the cloth that bound his mouth, but he jerked away from him in initial panic, and Jackie briefly pulled back to observe. By now, his entire body was beginning to melt from the distress, like wax held to a flame. “Marv, it’s me, it’s just me! I’m here — I’ve got you, okay?”
He fumbled with the knot at the back of his head but eventually pulled it loose and tossed it aside. Marvin inhaled shakily from pain and grabbed his arm in melting hands.
“Can you melt yourself free?” Jackie asked, moving quickly onto the bear trap. He knew better than to attempt to pry it open, especially when Marvin shook his head. “That’s okay! I got it, just pull your leg out when I get it open!”
Jackie pressed his hands into the spring levers on either side of the trap and pushed his entire weight onto them with a groan of effort. With a reluctant creak, the jaws began to retract slowly, and Marvin carefully removed his leg with a yelp of pain. As soon as the springs were released, the jaws clashed again in a sudden, metallic snap.
The strength in Marvin’s demeanour snapped just like the jaws, and Jackie wrapped him up in his arms as he broke down into tears. He buried himself into his hold and gripped his jacket. His body was melting now, but it didn’t scare Jackie. Instead, he rocked him and rested his cheek against his hair.
“I’m fine, I’m fine...” Marvin insisted, yet was vastly juxtaposed by his sobbing. Jackie ran his fingers through his messy hair, smoothing it out while his boyfriend cried on his shoulder. “They– they just caught me off guard, I...”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, baby, it’s okay...” Jackie murmured, closing his eyes while pulling him closer. “Where’s your mask?”
“I think, I think they took it... I was reading and I felt someone pull it off...” Marvin explained shakily but recalling the situation only accelerated his melting, and it wasn’t long before the majority of his legs had liquified into puddles of galaxies. “I thought it was you at first, but th-they tried grabbing me...I tried to run but that’s when...”
“They’re not coming back, I promise,” Jackie glared in the direction the two hunters had run off to as if they were still lurking in the distance. The blood dripped off of the tips of the grass like morning dew and then sunk into the soil. He shrugged off his flannel jacket and set it around his shoulders, helping him put it on as though it could somehow keep him together. “I’m gonna go find your mask, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Marvin nodded and wrapped his arms around himself for comfort. He brought Jackie’s hoodie to his face and held it there as he tried to calm down.
Meanwhile, Jackie walked to the edge of the clearing, where the waterfall stood just as proudly as ever. He surveyed his surroundings to check for any traps, his ears turning intensively to check for any stragglers, but luckily finding none. With a brief pause to make sure Marvin was still safe, he only stepped out when he spotted his mask discarded by the edge of the water.
Jackie retrieved it, dusted it off to find no damage, and knelt to wash his skin clean of the blood that was starting to dry. As the cold water swept away clouds of red, he took deep breaths and closed his eyes to think about what he’d done. Among the anger and lack of regret, it was essential to remind himself not to find joy in hurting others, human or otherwise. Now that the atmosphere was as quiet as the air after a storm, he was thankful he listened to that tiny part of him offering mercy. It was their choice to return or not, but Jackie knew that that little voice would go silent if they did.
He sighed and opened his eyes, picking up the mask again and returning to Marvin, who was hiccupping and shivering.
“Here, baby,” Jackie knelt again, his voice now soft and nurturing. He set the mask over his face and let Marvin adjust it, and smiled, so the first thing he saw was reassurance. “Do you still have your arms?”
“M-Mostly,” Marvin replied and held up his sleeves, which now dangled loosely while galaxies poured out like water. He still had a majority of his forearms, at least.
“Can you put your arms around my neck? I’ll carry you back,” He turned, so his back was facing him, and hoisted him up when his arm wrapped around his neck. Jackie stood with ease and held onto what little remained of his legs. “Just rest in the mean time, I won’t let anything hurt you. I’ll go out with Anti to get rid of the trap as soon as you’re home.”
Marv rested his head against his, voice now very quiet. “I’m so sorry...”
“Don’t be,” Jackie began to walk through the forest, his ears constantly turning to check for danger. “You’re safe, and that’s all I care about...” Marvin sniffed, nestling his head closer to Jackie’s for comfort as a few drops of galaxy dripped from his face and onto the werewolf’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t cry— it’s okay! I’ll leave the window open tonight so all the droplets can get in, and you’ll be back to normal by morning!”
“T-They’ll probably crawl over you again,” Marvin added with the weakest little chuckle.
“It’s fine, I don’t care.”
“You liar...” Marv murmured fondly.
“Maybe you should sleep on my side of the bed tonight...” Jackie replied, his tail twitching. Although knowing the droplets, they’d find a way to get inside without the window. Even if they weren’t sentient, he was still secretly convinced they did it on purpose.
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I hope this was okay, it isn’t the best but I tried! Marvin is super hard to hurt, that’s usually why I target Jackie lmao.
AAA I wanted to draw all of the WM personas together because I adore them so much!! I figured pure chaos is the best way to draw them all together! Jackie is woefully watching on the side.
I’ll probably reblog this with all of the separate close ups!
Tags in order of right to left (of the blogs I know!)
@inspiredrawaw @anxiousghostie (me) @cherry-angrynoodle @asexualerror @fandomtastic023
Bilingual life means continuously losing your mind
Why are our languages like this, there are so many things like this but this is the weirdest, biggest entanglement of false-friend terms I have ever seen
I have a lot of questions. I've always wanted to write my own fics but I always give up whenever I start something. So I'm wondering, what is your process when you write? Do you start with a draft? Do you ever struggle with finding the right words or figuring out how to describe something? And one more thing, how long does it usually take you to write something and edit it? Sorry for all the questions ;w;
No worries about questions, I don't mind them at all! I'm not the best at answering but I hope you can get something from this! <3
Honestly I'm really not a professional, I just have idea and go "hehe keyboard go brrrr". I will tell you what I do/my tips, and you're free to use or not use them!
Do I start with a draft?: For my one shots and loose storylines such as Willow Mist or the Mafia AU, I start with basic ideas that I write with no outline. For me, personally, it keeps my brain engaged to have a little bit of improvisation in my plot, so I get to work out how it ends when writing it!
- Red Stitches has a strict outline that I follow with little to no improvisation so everything happens exactly when I need it to. If this is more your style, go for it!
- I open a draft on Tumblr, add tags and stuff, and then start writing. Short stories that I can write in one go get posted once I've edited them and I re-edit the mistakes when I see them, but with longer stories, I wait till the next morning to proof read it! That way I can screenshot any mistakes, or any places where it's not flowing etc and fix it later!
- I use Grammar.ly Premium for editing and it's good but let me tell you now — IT'S NOT WORTH IT (in a sense that it is 20 pounds a month). It's honestly so buggy and it will dump 58 errors in 1,000+ words with most of them being incorrect. Besides, most of the synonyms it suggests are literally wrong, and it is an AI, so it cannot recognise deliberate deviations from grammar. But it is a good program for the most part, if you use it, don't be afraid to delete it's corrections! Because the human language is way more rich than the baseline of AI! BUT ANWAYS, SORRY FOR THE TANGENT!
Do I struggle?: DUDE. Y E S. All of the time, don't worry!! If you struggle with wording, building an outline for your fic will be super beneficial so you can know what comes next and delete things that are deviating from the outline (or add them in if you really like them!)
- I struggle with finding the words all of the time. The advice I use is rereading the previous paragraph to find what deviated you. For me, usually, it's the dialogue having a different tone and warranting a response that ends up snowballing into something new – which isn't helpful if you don't like improvising! If you lose the flow, perhaps try Ctrl X-ing the few lines that you don't know how to work from, and write again! That way you can easily get back what you just wrote if you need it, or you can just move on!
- With flow, I try and make sure that the word that starts each sentence is different, unless I'm writing something that includes a character panicking etc. Continuous "He did this. He then did that. He said." break up the flow of the paragraph and turns it into a "list of actions", so try to switch up the words! But don't beat yourself up if the word at the beginning of the sentence is the same as the one three lines above in the paragraph, or even the previous sentence. It happens!
Struggling with describing?: Adding metaphors, inner thoughts, setting descriptions etc really help me prevent the story from sounding like a list of actions. When a character panics, I remove them and stick to actions, because it's a sharp contrast and it's clear that the character can't observe the world. But that's just my way of doing it!
- When I struggle with describing something, I usually reuse a metaphor from another story I wrote. Of course it's important not to overuse them, but it's just easier, and you're free to change it if the words ever come to you! When describing something, I like my fantasy-esc comparisons, so it's a matter of finding a style that makes it easy and enjoyable to describe the setting!
How long does it take?: HOURS. I'm a fast typer and five hours can pass and I'll be only half way. It's natural, so don't beat yourself up for taking a while! Don't be afraid to leave a draft for a bit and work on something else, it'll still be there when you're ready to pick it up again!
- Editing is, as I said before, well... something. Grammar.ly will spit up 76 errors if you use it lmao, but it's worth it in the end! If you don't/ don't want to use a program, that's fine too! Just proofreading can go a long way! It helps to read how things flow and progress!
- Don't stress too much, honestly. You'll improve as you go! My WM stories from last year are, in my opinion, now outdated and badly written compared to how I write now. You'll find your style and techniques, and you'll improve naturally!
I hope this was somewhat helpful! Again, these are just my tips and techniques so you're free to do what you like with them, if anything! If you do write something, tag me!! I'd love to read it! 💕
Thank you for 400 followers, that’s super cool! :D
I’m so thankful for all of the support on my art and writing, you have no idea how much it means to me seeing people enjoy it. I love all the comments and responses, even if they are mostly screaming when I post angst lmao–
Your immortal character is desperate to die. To what extent do they go to? And who/what is the reason they want to continue living? How do their friends find out?
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