#wctchers

Magic Anon list! | Accepting Puppet: Your Muse finds themselves tied up and they can either have a savior or a captor. The next person to say their name has your Muse in a hypnotic trance.

This wasn't great, whatever happened after he blacked out and was tied up wasn't entirely great... But as if by some miracle he was freed, and he only had one place in mind to head to. The Champion Level. Something wasn't right- Really not right- and if he could find The Champion or Seawatt maybe they could brainstorm what was going on??? Right?? Yeah... Yeah they could-

"Hey-"

He started upon reaching the top of the The Champion Level. But it wasn't who he was expecting. The moment the other spoke his name he felt his body started to slow down... His eyes blinked slightly a bit too slow as an all engulfing fuzziness filled his mind. It was hard to think, to do much of anything. Why did he come up here again? Why did he feel like it didn't matter... No... It didn't quite matter. But he shook his head, his mind too clouded to think of a reply. No, he didn't want to think.

His eyes seemed to glaze over, like he wasn't fully aware of what was going on, not in the Disassociation way but... It was different. He slowly walked over, his movements kind of resembling someone who was sleepwalking. But... He was awake, eyes open and all that and he seemed frantic only a moment before.

Fit looked at his boyfriend sadly, he let out a sigh as he approached him and hugged him quietly, burying his face in his shoulder.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Pac, I don't think everything will be okay, but I'm going to fight for you and Ramón, I promise."

He murmured firmly as he hugged him.

foolish had been terrified, in truth, but not for himself. death wasn’t the end for a god like him. and while he was sure, maybe, probably, that eret would have been fine too—he couldn’t sit by and watch something happen to her. not when she looked so tired already, so worn down, so… he’d acted without thinking, lost in the moment and the violence that he’d been before the server came sparking back like a surge of lightning straight to the spine. he regretted scaring them, bringing them so close to tears and such an awful state, but it was good to see her again. and in truth, he could have come by sooner—sent a message, maybe left a note? but what could he say? while it hadn’t left a true mark besides a golden ring around his throat, it had been such a horrific moment and each death, no matter how nonchalant they were to a godbeing such as him, it was still… well, dying.

but he meant it, and he’d do it again if she needed. if she told him here and now that she was terribly angry at him, he’d let her ire burn until she had a chance to breathe, to see he wasn’t going anywhere, and—and…

Not that he was doing much of anything important, he did glance at Drista from where he stood overlooking the server's overworld. A thing he would do when he wasn't sneaking onto the server itself.

RP MEME: NONVERBAL PROMPTS || OPEN

♠️ The hand on his cheek is fine. At least that's what Quackity tries to convince himself. He's not used to touch anymore. The times he'd spend curled up with other people feel further and further away with each passing day. An illusion of safety thoroughly shattered and swept under the rug. The need for it generally forgotten. Yet, Aspen is right here. They're gentle. He fights the initial reflex to pull away. His wings twitch for a moment, but only for a moment, as he takes back the careful control he keeps over every situation.

"Yeah, sure. I don't see why not." He decides with a laugh. "Just be careful, y'know?" He plays the request lightly, but there's a lot of trust there. There's a whole half of his face he can barely feel. A dulled, useless eye hidden away under an eye patch. His jaw was only partly flesh, some of it had to be reconstructed wholesale towards the back and the bone all the way up to his temple was metal. It clicks when he yawns or chews. It's all too delicate, but Aspen of all people is always gentle. Sweet, lovely Aspen.

He stood at attention, as he was instructed by The Warden. He was on good behavior for the time being and was allowed some visitors as long as the visitor actually wanted to visit. His skin was pale and he seemed to be thinner than he was the last people have seen him. Or well the people besides Quackity and Sam.

CLOSE TO YOU ASK MEME | Accepting

"Hey stranger... Sorry for the mess..."

He muttered as he leaned into the other's warmth. A Brewing Stand right in front of him with a massive pile of ingredients that he stole from R&D to try and figure out the antidote for his other self.

technoblade watches her with careful consideration, sharp eyes gleaming down a crooked, hooked nose and lips pulled into a half flat line. it’d been some time since he’d truly sought the company of others, and longer still that he’d trusted someone who’s company he kept. worry lines creased, wrinkling as he furrowed too his brows as if staring at her face might split her open and reveal the contents of a monarch’s heart. of their grief too, he wondered. alas, in this quiet moment of heavy and heart, techno was left sitting in the wreckage of something he knew not, but that he still felt strongly enough to act upon.

carefully, the piglin roused himself to sit on the edge of the chair he’d taken across them, reaching ever slightly so that he might offer a warm, steadying hand. he makes no move to touch her, treating her closer to a spooked mare that’s likely to rear and bite should he close the distance without proper warning and care. “I won’t say I’m any real good at comfortin’ people, I’m better with horses than I am people, but… even if you aren’t used to the somethin’ like this, same as me, maybe… I don’t know,” a long sigh cuts him off abruptly, lips lifting into a half smile that he surely hopes is reassuring.