#drawing too was me working on a recreation of my siblings and I as we hid from the rest of the family. originally i didnt include my older

[valentine-cafe]

Hii

I'm in a very struggling situation so is it okay if you give me fun facts about Zhao Yizé 9948e? Doesn't matter what it is. Just no angst and nsfw fun facts.

He is my comfort character and I need to read something about him to ease my stress. You can take your time on it tho!

— 🎨

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ oh darling we really are sorry and we hope things ease up for you :(( sending you lots of love! we composed this real quick for you

𖹭. he plays the guqin! he's very good at it too

𖹭. can recreate animal sounds very very accurately

𖹭. he treats mister squiggles like a genuine pet snake when in fact squiggles is his familiar —

𖹭. he can speak fluent japanese!

𖹭. his english given name is mathew ( he hates it XHVKBK )

𖹭. on the topic of languages, he speaks more english than he does chinese as he's not around the zhào estate too often and rather lives in the society of shades

𖹭. he is associated with dull shades of blue

𖹭. one of our voice references for him is from this audio

𖹭. as a child, he loved hiding around the ponds of the estate garden, swimming among the lotus flowers and sometimes laying on the big lotus leaves. he also had a small water fan he’d use to splash his older brothers with. they never knew it was him that did it.

𖹭. when yizé first got mr. squiggles, the first thing the both of them did was have a race in the training grounds. he won, and made squiggles get him ice cream as a reward.

𖹭. in yizé’s late teens, he had developed an odd habit of sleeping in the tree branches because he’d sit in the garden at ungodly hours to do homework for school. it became a comfort to him, and he liked when the birds nestled up to him.

𖹭. yizé helps a lot of the community around the estate and makes sure everyone goes around and are safe. safely getting elderly and the young across the road, making sure cats and dogs don’t run out and get lost and is also one of the people who makes a bunch of food for his neighbours and hands it out to them when he can.

𖹭. at work, yizé really likes the missions where he gets to go to the last sector of the society. because it’s a place surrounded by nature and it just comforts him. he loves the areas of the inner society too! the last one just reminds him of home. and also there’s deer!

𖹭. though he doesn’t read books, he has a special thing for comics. he doesn’t read — but he loves looking at all the art. he’s never been too good at art, but he admires it so heavily. he’s always trying to draw something! even if it comes out a little messy, he still feels proud of what he makes

𖹭. yizé is the only one in his family that manages to get brain freezes whenever he drinks cold drinks or eats something cold too fast, nobody knows why.

𖹭. he really likes dancing on roller-skates and is quite good at it too! he often goes to some of the clubs around the society to dance around with them on. one of the reasons for this is because it reminds him of his best friend lorenzo.

𖹭. he has a special soft spot for reptilians, and adores salamanders specifically. he can’t explain why, he’s just always loved how silly they look.

𖹭. has a bit of a tendency to get lost whenever he’s out, but he always find his way back home ! ( he calls his fire dad or his ceo dad or his mama )

𖹭. his younger sibling and him get along really well, and often enjoy running around the parks close to their home, catching bugs and critters for them. yǔ xī has always been able to relate to his love for all wildlife, and it’s refreshing. they like to sit and study them while eating ramen

𖹭. he likes to visit his older brother xīyang whenever he has time. he knows he is sick often and because of this, he really likes bringing him soup and food. and although they’ve had a rocky past together they also share lots of laughs when they get the time. last time they laughed over squiggles accidentally dipping his tail in yizé’s soul when he went to hug xīyang

𖹭. really likes to bully his boss/dad rasui, calling him an old man and sometimes not listening to his orders at work because he likes to prove there are different ways to do things. and he can see even when rasui scolds him, there is pride for his adaptability. ꒱

[thessalian]

Molly!Rook vs Two Idiot Gods

But first, plannng and reassurances

Molly!Rook: Okay. So Minrathous is fucked - again. We can't port directly in. And you guys divided your time between trying to punch a hole in the Fade--

Emmrich: More ... opening a window between two parts of the Fade.

Molly!Rook: Good point, well made, thank you. Anyway, between that and trying to recreate the work of an effective god.

Bellara: Doesn't work quite the same way, though. Not sure Lucanis could kill a god with it.

Molly!Rook: Close is something. Might be handy. Maybe if push comes to it I can swipe the real one off Solas and replace it with the fake. Though that would involve sneaking up on him ... but hey, if he's busy enough with blight or Elgar'nan or that stupid archdemon, it's a possibility!

Davrin: Now I know you're back and mostly okay. Only you would talk about pickpocketing the god of trickery that casually.

Molly!Rook: I'm ... coping. I can have a good long breakdown later. For now, we really need to plan how we're going to get to Minrathous, get into Minrathous, and get up to the not-the-Archon's-anymore palace.

Emmrich: We will need to get all our allies together, and it will take them time to get there. While we see to that, you need to allow yourself some time for something to eat and some actual rest.

Molly!Rook: ...Fine, but I will be checking up on each and every one of you before I do.

Davrin: ...And that's how we really know you're back.

In Rook's quarters, later

Lucanis: I thought I'd never see you again.

Molly!Rook: Hey, no one gets rid of me that easily. ...Are you okay in here? I've been trying to avoid inviting you in here because of the ... y'know. Windows.

Lucanis: It ... was difficult, at first. But having your things nearby helped. I ... wondered about the ... sketches of wings.

Molly!Rook: Most of the people I know who can actually draw are still in Arlathan with the Veil Jumpers, and given everything they've been dealing with lately, I didn't want to distract them with a commission. So ... I picked up the next best thing to remind me of you.

Lucanis: ...Rook...

Molly!Rook: Wait. What do you mean it was difficult at first?

Lucanis: Spite saw what happened to you on Tearstone Island. I thought ... you spoke to Solas in that prison from here, so...

Molly!Rook: ...You faced sitting down shut in an underwater-looking room for me?

Lucanis: It ... helped, in a way. The ... association is no less the Ossuary. Just ... now I can look at it and see ... you. Coming to rescue me.

Molly!Rook: You've done the same, now.

Lucanis: Only the once. For me, you did it twice.

Molly!Rook: You killed a god for me. I think we're even.

Lucanis: Two more. One, at least, I owe for what he did to you. But that is the contract. You, I owe for leaving you hanging in the pantry that one time.

Molly!Rook: Hey, you don't owe me anything for that; anything like this has to move at the other person's own pace--

Lucanis: Fine, then. I owe it to myself to make up for lost time.

Molly!Rook: That's more like it--

Fade to spectral wings, and after a buttload of planning, we reach Minrathous:

Bellara: Rook, come on!

Molly!Rook: Sorry! Sorry! Used to being part of the big battles, not running away from them to do other shit!

Davrin: There'll be battles enough for us-- Like darkspawn.

Molly!Rook: I know you sense darkspawn in general, and I never thought to ask, so ... isn't this like having half the planet screaming at you all at once?

Davrin: I try not to think about it. It gets too much, I just start thinking of visiting Assan's siblings in Arlathan, and--

Bellara: ...There he is! Fen'harel!

Molly!Rook: Bellara, Davrin, keep an eye on the Viper and Tarquin. I've got some things to say to that one.

Solas: ...Free already? You are continually unexpected. And honestly welcome. The blight senses my presence and blocks me at every turn. You would fare better. We need to work together to kill Elgar'nan.

Molly!Rook: .........

Solas: Well?

Molly!Rook: Are you fucking shitting me right now?!? You killed my friend--

Solas: It was an accident! And I gave him back to you, in a sense--

Molly!Rook: I AM NOT GOING TO THANK YOU FOR SCREWING WITH MY HEAD WITH BLOOD MAGIC, YOU SOCIOPATH! You keep screwing with me, and now you expect me to trust you?

Solas: I give you my word that the Veil will not fall by my hand.

Molly!Rook: It's those last three words that are giving me problems at this point!

More darkspawn: *approach*

Molly!Rook: Buuuuuuuuut we're running out of time so fine. Fine, I'll do your dirty work. But someone's going to have to take care of that archdemon before I can do any of that. Unless you figure we can deal with that too.

Solas: I will deal with the archdemon. When next we meet, let us be standing over Elgar'nan's body! *becomes giant, multi-eyed wolf, starts savaging the archdemon*

Molly!Rook: ...Still hate him, but ... I have to admit, that was rad.

A run through Minrathous, a reunion with allies, and a rescue of a Minrathous detective later...

Molly!Rook: Okay. Neve--

Neve: If you're going to try to sideline me, Rook, no. This is my city he's wrecking--

Molly!Rook: I wasn't going to ask you to sit out. I know you better than that.

Neve: ...Oh. Then...?

Molly!Rook: You were yelling about how we can't kill Elgar'nan, and I have a feeling I know why, so please confirm my suspicions.

Neve: The Veil's powered by his life force. Well, it was powered by all the gods once, except for Solas, but now there's only one left. You kill him--

Molly!Rook: .........*swearing in every language spoken by every member of the God-Botherers, past and present*

Neve: ...wut.

Davrin: Solas swore he wouldn't tear down the Veil--

Neve: ...while handing Rook the means to do it themselves. Riiiiight.

Molly!Rook: *deeeeeeeep breath* Okay. You said all the gods except Solas. Time for that to change.

Jallira!quisitor: We ... couldn't talk him around, could we? I mean, I couldn't do it alone, but ... you have a couple of aspects of Mythal, and she might be able to...

Molly!Rook: That's in the plan hopper. But if I have to beat his egg-shaped face in and use the blood from his broken nose to do it, that is what I'll do. But first we have to deal with Elgar'nan. Him, I don't think we can trap at this point.

Lucanis: Tell me this ends with you asleep in my arms, and I will kill any god you ask.

Emmrich: ...honestly, I'd be happy if they get any sleep at all after this is over...

Taash: Probably won't get much in his arms...

Morrigan: ...'Tis truly like travelling with the Warden all over again...

After a long hard fight, frankly mostly won by Neve taking full command of the blight, and one dead Elgar'nan

Solas: You did well thus far, Rook. But matching wits with the god of trickery seldom works well for anyone.

Molly!Rook: ...depending on the story. *attempts to stab him with the dagger*

Solas: *paralyses Molly!Rook, eventually prises the dagger from their hand* Nice try.

Lucanis: ...mierda...

Davrin: *seeing this from a different angle, quietly* Wait for iiiiiiiiiit...

Lucanis: ...wut.

Solas: *attempts to use the dagger*

Fake dagger: *blows up in his face, binds him to the hole in the Fade*

Molly!Rook: *is free* Like I said. Depending. On. The story. *cuts his hand with the real dagger, shoves the dagger back at him*

Solas: ...A mortal. Huh. Knew I made a mistake when I started thinking of myself as a god like the others did.

Molly!Rook: Let's hope wisdom keeps winning out over pride in terms of your name over the next forever. Also ... get wrecked, Egg-Face. *gives him both middle fingers as he's sucked into the Fade*

Davrin: Your partner just conned the god of lies, Lucanis. You are a lucky, lucky man.

Lucanis: ...I am First Talon now. I think I will name them an honorary Crow. I have seen many murder weapons, but to take down a mark by hubris alone? That is special.

Molly!Rook: This is flattering as all hell, but can we check in on Neve? I have concerns!

Neve: *is free of blight*

Molly!Rook: ............I have so many tests and research papers to do-- *literally hollering down towards Minrathous proper* HEY, ANTOINE! IF YOU SURVIVED, DO YOU HAVE BLOODLETTING EQUIPMENT? 'COS I THINK AT LEAST SOME OF YOU MIGHT NOT BE WARDENS ANYMORE AND I NEED TO SEE HOW FAR THAT SPREADS!

Davrin: You think they'll have time to be an honorary Crow?

Lucanis: Sure. All I'd have to do is set them a challenge involving poisons and they'd be providing Viago ten research papers within a week.

Fade to black on cheers, hopeful epilogue cards, and a 'secret ending' that I'm trying to forget exists for now

[darewolfcreates]

family FrostyFest trips <3

[theearlgreymage]

Okay, but, Snow for Christmas was a fucking TREAT!

Can we please discuss how precious it was? And how I need MORE after reading it.

I'm dropping spoilers below because I've reread this 5 times while at work today and need to let my emotions out.

Baz and Simon having regular lunches with Fiona? Please give me those dialougues. Gimme a fucking screen play of nothing but their lunches

Simon regularly practicing his sword skills AND distracting Baz? You cannot convince me this isn't a flirting tactic doe Simon. Let me read about Simon seducing Baz via a sword 😏

ALWAYS KISSING GOODBYE? MY HEART CANNOT.

Okay, but I also want more family drama from the Grimms and Pitches. Uncle Cyril? Tell me what this man has done to find himself on the wrong side of Malcom Grimm and Simon Snow. Spill that tea. (I will always map Baz's entire family tree if you let me.)

The sofa is PINK!! Need I say more?

Wing Flap Shirts!! I'm so glad our dragon baby finally has clothes he can wear without needing magic. NOW. Which one of you lovelies is drawing this?

"He reaches up and carefully starts to loosen my tie. He's become very skilled at this over the last few months." 😏😏😏

Baz internally swooning at EVERY thought of Simon being his boyfriend.

Simon being a GOOD boyfriend and immediately being up for another dinner with Baz's family. For Baz. Because he's so GOOD

Baz referring to Lady Salisbury as Simon's grandmother? ADORABLE. Lady Salisbury being cool with Simon and Baz bring "as gay we want. We can be extra gay, as a treat." YES. GIVE THESE BOYS A KIND FAMILY FIGURE WHO ACCEPTS THEM WITH NOTHING BUT LOVE. Please give me more visits with the Salisbury family. I need the wholesomeness.

WHERE CAN I READ ABOUT FIONA AND NICOS WEDDING!?!?!?

"We could be married with children --" "Could we?" PLEASE GIVE THEM A FAMILY

Can I get more fanart of Baz with his siblings. Because they are precious little things. And I need more of Petra and Sophie climbing Baz like he's their personal jungle gym. I need more pre-teen Mordelia spending wholesome time with her brother. I need to see Swithin climbing this fucking Tibetan mastiff. Thank you very much.

Can we please give Rainbow Rowell a massive thanks for giving us a more detailed description of Malcom Grimm finally??

I will foot the entire fucking production crew to have that dinner recreated for the screen. I would sell my soul to a Demon like Shepard if it means I can have a quality holiday special of that dinner. Fucking. Hell. Baz IMMEDIATELY grabbing Simon to ground him. Simon SUPPORTING HIS MAN and holding his hand. SIMON BELIEVING IN BAZ THAT HE'S GOT THIS DINNER IN THE BAG AND JUST SERVING BAZ FOOD. Malcom and Daphne crying and pouring drinks over Baz finally finally finally getting to eat dinner with him. Sophie getting gravy in her hair.

And can we also discuss the fact that this scene proves that these little girls know their big brother is a vampire? And they still adore him? They still climb all over him and practically beg for his attention? That these girls just want to spend time with their brother and aren't afraid in the slightest of him?

FANG BACKSTORY BREAKING MY FUCKING HEART. Baby Baz fucking hiding in the barn. Terrified. And Fiona just fucking supporting her nephew. I 100% cried during this scene.

Edit Add cause I somehow forgot to mention : Simon's fucking obsession with Baz's fangs. Like. Honey. No, his family does not want to watch him drain a deer. That's just you.

"I think I got drunk with Baz's dad at dinner." Had me rolling.

Backtracking. WE HAVE CAREER OPTIONS FOR SIMON. And so help me. I would refuse to talk to this man too if he tried to join the RAF or police force. Like. He really needs to address this hero-savior complex with his fucking therapist. For fucks sake. Stop trying to save people Simon. Just get your fucking fork lift license and RELAX.

Really. Die Hard? Are we shocked?

THE. FOREHEAD. KISS.

End of discussion. (But really. Discuss. Because I am feral right now. And I cannot focus on writing lesson plans in this state.)

[italiangothicwriteblr]

15 Questions Tag

I was tagged by @memento-morri-writes @the-void-writes and @bloodlessheirbyjacques! 

Tagging @ink-fireplace-coffee @rose-bookblood @faithfire and @writersandpoetsunited

3 tags means I’m going to do three characters, so here’s Nova, Livia, and Adrasteia 

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nova: I’m named for Novellia Ventura, a soldier who served under my father in the Southern army. She was a spy who did so well that Cosimo honored her with the name of his child. There’s a reason I don’t talk about it.

Livia: My first name is for Imperatrice Lavinia, who’s an ancestor of mine. And my middle name is Domitilla, for my grandmother’s aunt--she was a great stateswoman who’s been mostly erased from the history books. (If you’re curious why)

Adrasteia: Nope. Naming people after someone isn’t as common in Bellamagna, we aim to name children something they can grow into. For example, my name means “not inclined to run away”, meant to ward off cowardice in battle.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Nova: That last night at home. If I see Ottavio again I’m hunting him for sport.

Livia: I don’t cry

Adrasteia: On the anniversary of my parents’ and siblings’ death. They don’t have an actual grave I can visit, but I try and do as much of the mourning rites as I can from here.

3. Do you have kids?

Nova: Nope! And I’m not sure I want them, considering the world right now

Livia: Not yet, but I’m expected to have some eventually

Adrasteia: No, and I don't want them

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Nova: Yes. Cloelia thinks it’s too much. 

Livia: Depends who I’m talking to

Adrasteia: Not a lot

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Nova: Their expression--if they’re smiling, or angry. I try to know how to behave going into an interaction

Livia: Their eyes--I can tell an ulterior motive from a mile away, and it’s all in the eyes--smiles can be faked

Adrasteia: Whether they have a weapon

6. What’s your eye color?

Nova: Black, unless I’m doing...let’s just say they sometimes turn gold

Livia: Violet

Adrasteia: Silver, like my arrows

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Nova: Happy endings. It’s nice to see them happen for someone

Livia: Scary movies! It’s good to prepare for bad things that may happen

Adrasteia: Scary movies. Happy endings are boring

8. Any special talents?

Nova: ...nothing I can share

Livia: I’ve been told I’m a pretty persuasive writer

Adrasteia: I’m a highly trained soldier who can use both swords and arrows

9. Where were you born?

Nova: The Palazzo de Rege, South Circi

Livia: Tradizza Palace, North Circi

Adrasteia: The Agora of Khrysos, Bellamagna

10. What are your hobbies?

Nova: Reading, and sometimes I like to draw or paint

Livia: I don’t have time for hobbies, I’m dealing with the court all day. I guess I have some fun with...recreational activities, even if I usually have an ulterior motive.

Adrasteia: Stargazing. I love astronomy, and figuring out how to read the stars.

11. Have you any pets?

Nova: Yes! A little dragon I adopted while we were in the South!

Livia: My girlfriend brought home a fucking dragon.

Adrasteia: No, I don’t trust myself to keep things alive

12. What sports do you play/have played?

Nova: I did a bit of swordfighting as a child, and me and my siblings used to play something we called Magical Gladiator

Livia: Horseback, fencing, chariot racing. 

Adrasteia: Archery, basic army and navy training

13. How tall are you?

Nova: 5′2″

Livia: 5′9″

Adrasteia: 5′5″

14. Favorite subject in school?

Nova: History. It’s fun how we never learn from mistakes

Livia: Rhetoric, mostly because I was good at it

Adrasteia: I didn’t love my schooling, but I did enjoy my theology classes

15. Dream job?

Nova: I don’t really have one, I just know I don’t want to work for my family

Livia: I’m going to be head of the family one day, and I’m happy with that

Adrasteia: I don't think about it much

[you-were-alone-too]

the universe we dreamt

a byler big bang project

Author/Artists: @you-were-alone-too @oceanic-sunsets​ @hei-jessi-draws

Rating: Teen

Tags: Road Trip, Internalized Homophobia, Period Typical Homophobia, Set in 1988, Post-Season 5, Gay Mike Wheeler, Gay Will Byers, Mutual Pining, Will/El Siblings, Mike/Eleven Friendship, Heart to Hearts, Denver, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, California, Mixtapes, Letters, The Painting, Best Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Feelings, Angst, Fluff, Mike Wheeler I Know What You Are, And Soon Will Byers Will Too, The Closet is Made of Glass

Summary: It's six months after they defeat Vecna and close the Upside Down for the final time, and along with it comes the spring of 1988. When Mike suggests that he and Will try and recreate their perfect spring break in California, it leads to a road trip towards the west coast that stirs up old memories and, perhaps, something more.

Excerpt:

Will glances up to where the painting is hanging above the couch, eyes raking over every careful detail. He still remembers the day he’d come down to the basement and saw it hanging up for the first time; Mike had rearranged his other posters just to put it there, and something about the proud look on Mike’s face reminded him of the way Will’s mom always liked to hang his artwork on the fridge, no matter how bad Will insisted they were. It’s stayed there ever since, and even now, seeing it still makes Will feel like his heart is a gaping, wide chasm, one that exposes his entire being if anyone decides to look hard enough. 

He’s just glad that Mike hasn’t attempted to, at least. 

“God, that feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. His eyes seem to follow Will’s line of sight to where the painting rests above the couch. “You know, if there’s one bright side to all of this, it’s that we never have to sit in a Surfer Boy Pizza van ever again.”

“Don’t remind me,” Will says, shuddering at the memories. Not even counting the emotional turbulence they suffered throughout that week, it had been awful—between the constant stench of weed, the lack of showers or clean clothes, and the mind-numbing boredom of sitting in a van for hours at a time, it was no wonder that just the reminder of it made their faces twist in disgust. “That was…”

“Easily the worst road trip of all time?” Mike asks. 

“Yes,” Will laughs, although he doubts it even deserves to be in the same category as ‘road trip.’ At the time, it felt more like a getaway car than anything else. “I still can’t hear ‘Pass the Dutchie’ without my ears bleeding.” 

Mike laughs as he collapses against the couch, and Will follows suit, the both of them working in tandem the way they’ve always seemed to. 

“We should do that again. But an actual road trip, you know? Not when we’re one wrong turn away from getting shot by rogue government agents.” Mike’s eyes flicker up at him before his gaze falls back to the fidgeting hands in his lap. “And it would just be us this time. No Argyle and Jonathan getting high and playing their shitty mixtape on repeat.”

Will can’t help but smile at the way he can see Mike’s mind already formulating an idea at a hundred miles an hour, the way it always does when he comes up with a plan and his imagination begins to run away from him. And then the words it would just be us hit the forefront of his thoughts, echoing on a never ending loop the way Jonathan’s cassettes tended to do when the film was old and worn. He tries his best to brush them off, but instead, the words seem to worm their way down to his chest and nestle in the holes. He turns back to Mike, shoving the thoughts down, down, down. “Oh, so this time it’ll be us playing our own shitty mixtape?” he asks. 

“Yeah!” Mike says, and the smile on his face reminds him of a younger Mike, one that led the party through countless battles with goblins and the thessalhydra and everything in between. “Well, maybe if I make it, it’ll actually be good.”

Will sits up, angling his body toward Mike with a kick to the shin. “Excuse me? Are you implying that I have bad music taste?” he scoffs. 

Mike wrinkles his nose. “It’s just that you like all that weird stuff, like The Clash.” 

“Wow. At least I don’t just listen to the top hits and think that means I like good music.” 

“They’re the top hits for a reason! Besides, that’s not all I listen to,” he argues, arms folded against his chest. 

Even now, Will can’t help but smile at Mike and the defensive attitude he seems to wield like a plate of armor, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say.” 

“I’m serious, though,” he says, and when he glances up, Mike’s already staring back at him, brown eyes ploring into hazel. Insistent. “We should do it. For real.”

Will’s breath catches at the way it feels like he can see right through him, and he swallows hard at how sincere he sounds, even if he doubts the idea will ever get off the ground, if he figures that Mike will forget about it in a day or two. “Where would we even go?” Will says, humoring him. 

“California,” Mike answers, like it’s obvious. “We can have the spring break that we never got to have back then. Well, except it would be summer, and we’d probably have to take my mom’s station wagon.”

Oh, something inside him seems to say as his lips part, just the slightest bit. He has so many questions, like why not invite the rest of the party? Or, maybe more pressing, why me? Why now? But with the hopeful smile Mike’s casting his way, radiant like a beacon in the dark, it’s hard to voice any of it, especially when his tongue has transformed into a bed of sandpaper. “It beats a pizza van,” he shrugs with a smile. “Yeah, let’s do it. But only if I get to help make the mixtape.” 

Mike gives him a grin that somehow manages to challenge the one before it, face glowing as bright as Will had ever seen it, and really, that in itself is enough for him to push past the swirling confusion in his chest. “Yeah,” Mike smiles. “It’s a deal.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Super excited for all your wips! 👀👀

How do you render your drawings they look so cool!

*SWEATS* Mamser, I literally have no idea what I even do while I make art—

My rendering isn't that grand nor complex (and I don't think there is any rendering. They're mostly all just flats with barely any shading or lightning with this cartoony-anime mixed style), compared to other authors who also draw their character portraits for their IF's.

It's simple and workable, like my artstyle, and I don't think it'll get more complicated than that! If it works for me, then it works.

I don't have any big brain wisdom I can impart on you or for any other budding artists, because I'm no professional and is merely self taught, but I may have some personal ones:

Steal like an artist. Find something in someone else's artstyle that you really like and adapt that to your own! Artstyles are a personal mishmash of the artists you look up to, and not all are the same even if you and someone else may have the same artistic idols. This is different from tracing, however. I DO NOT encourage tracing over someone else's work and claiming it as your own. That is stealing, you utter criminal, and I will dropkick you if you do that.

Practice. Old wisdom, but it works and it's true. You don't become Bob Ross or Leonardo Da Vinci in a day after all. It's a struggle and it'll be frustrating, but I promise once you learn to draw the thing you finally want to draw, the high from reaching that achievement is absolutely real and so, so worth it.

References. If you think you can draw a sitting position freestyle from your brain, you're wrong, because when you look at a reference of that then at your sketch, you're gonna see a lot of mistakes in the anatomy, poses, perspective etc,. So, please, stockpile your references for every possible thing that you'll be drawing, because you'll absolutely need them.

Have fun. As artists we tend to compare our work to those who we think are better in the craft, when in reality we all are just trying to get better in what we do. Look, it doesn't matter if a 3 year old can recreate Mona Lisa in perfect detail, if you enjoy doing your work then that's already enough. I prefer to see "better" artists as inspirations to try and achieve more, not as some unachievable pedestal. You can achieve that too! May not be as quick as the rest, but you will get there in your own pace. Art is a journey, not a race. Take your time, learn what you want to learn, and have fun!

Experiment. You gotta if you wanna find out what stuff sticks with you and what doesn't. It also helps you find out a technique you might like for sketching, lineart, coloring etc., or if you just wanna get the hang of something first! OR if you wanna try out a new artstyle! Art is a science, in a way. A wonderful alchemy of color, wrist pains, and shrimp posture!

Also thank you for showing excitement for my WIPs, anon! I'm trying me best to work on all of them. You get a mwah from me. 😭💙💙💙

Free art from L? How scandalous! This is also just an excuse for me to ramble about my other characters amongst my 200+ bucket of them.

Some of these are old, but I just wanna share 'em for the funsies.

And, yes, the light blue haired, dark blue eyed lady in black and glasses and guy in a green parka with a resting bitch face are Carmen and Everest, Ophelia's older siblings. I also have Weylyn's older siblings, Bleddyn and Riekka, but I plan on reworking their design first. Why do I have so many redesign plans for so many characters.

1. Random character I drew for Religions Class last semester. I loved her design, so I kept her. No name yet, sadly 😭

2. Rival Agent Team in The Company. No names yet, though purple haired gal is named Agent Carrion. All of the designs and colors were from picrews, I just changed whatever was needed to suit my own preferences.

3. Lucian and Louise Dagohoy doing a clothes swap (2020). They're siblings I love dearly. They'll show up in an IF soon. I have big plans for them.

4. Carmen and Everest. Had this for months now, and I had no idea when to show it. Might refine their design a bit when I have the time.

5. Mint. Yes, her name is Mint. Not a Familiar, but a different kind of Fae entirely. Did this on my phone in 2019(?). I was bored at the time, and wanted to do a simple doodle, so I drew Mint about to eat a carrot.

6. - 7. MSPaint doodles from 2021, during a boring class if I remember. First one's Quentin the Monarch Fae king because it's been a while since I drew that man, then Louise. She's usually drawn happy all the time, but I wanted to make her sad, so I did. Not that hard to draw on MSPaint, really. Great for lineless practice because there are no layers.

8. - 10. Raphael, Gabriel and Michael Zealon. A pair of twins and an older brother. They have the old designs of High Court Angels (this was 2021), and their conversation was based on a tweet I saw on Twitter. Don't ask why. I'm too sleep deprived to answer.

And if you're wondering what art program I use, I either use MSPaint (when I'm bored) or FireAlpaca (for most of my works). The drawing tablet I use is a Huion H430p. It's smaller compared to the normal drawing tablet (H640p) of Huion, and it's as big as a standard notebook.

I would add 20 more art if I were on my laptop right now (and also because most of my art is stored there), but that'll be all for now.

[heloflor]

So, given that I didn’t have much time to work on fics recently because school, I’ve decided to relieve some stress by making a random representation of how I imagine Cavendish and Dakota’s house in their time-period looks like. And since I have no plans to ever describe it in detail in a fic, here it is ! Though, given how bad I am with designs, showing the house is mostly an excuse to infodump on domestic headcanons.

Regarding the last names, I didn’t make a typo for Cav. I like to imagine the two getting married way before the events of the show, with Cav taking “Dakota” as a last name, mostly because he got several siblings in-law on the Dakota side who adopted him on the spot.

And about the representation of the house : yeah it looks like shit. Since I can’t draw, I’ve decided to do something rather quick using MSPaint but yeah, not the best thing in the world. Though, if I get back to playing the Sims 3 at some point and end up making a Dwampyverse savefile, I’ll most likely try to recreate that house and could share a few pics.

I also went with a rectangular house with one floor instead of some futuristic-looking thing, mostly because I have no imagination when it comes to design. Though, you could still use the excuse that they want something more “old-timey” given their job or that they don’t have all the money of the world so they chose a simple house for the small cost. But yeah, by the end of the day, the choice is mostly because I can’t design shit.

But still one thing in my defense : looking at episodes that take place in the future like “Missing Milo” or “First Impressions”, it seems that most buildings are square-y with the roof being the weirdly-shaped part, with B.O.T.T. being one of the few exceptions. And looking at “A Christmas Peril”, the buildings are definitely more wacky but it’s 20 years later so…

I could also mention that I’m a bit unsatisfied with how empty the living-room and the bedroom ended up being but I’m drawing a total blank when trying to come up with the kind of stuff Vinnie and Balth would have that are linked to their interests. Though, maybe the excuse of them not being often at the house works ? Idk. Let’s just say I have ideas for the “basic” stuff, aka what you find in basically every single middle-class house, but draw a complete blank for anything that’s decorative. Still posting a map of the house tho because I don’t really consider it a work in progress if I simply have no idea and may never do. I’m very bad at design so bear with me on that one ! It’s not only about the house, it’s also about the fluffy headcanons !

So here’s under the cut some random info about the look of the rooms and furniture + a bunch of headcanons regarding Vinnie and Balth’s lives in this house. For each part of the house, you first have the info about how it looks first and then the headcanons.

Those headcanons are made with the idea that Vinnie and Balth are married (duh) but also, for a few, that Vinnie has three siblings + a few in-laws that he has a good relationship with.

(very long post ahead)

General :

- They bought the house in 2162, 2 years after getting married.

- It’s in the suburbs, or at least what the future version of the suburbs would look like. In other words, the presence of a backyard is debatable.

- There could be a garage for their time vehicle, so that they don’t have to go to headquarters every single day. And if not an actual garage, there’s at least some space to put it. In both cases, it would be near the bedroom’s side of the house.

- While the walls outside would have that futuristic “metallic” look, the walls inside would be a bit warmer. At the very least, the inside isn’t “future metallic white”, especially with Vinnie having photophobia.

- The intensity of the lights in every room can be adjusted. That way, Vinnie can put the dimmest light and navigate the house without his glasses. This is mostly useful for showering and midnight snacks.

- When they went house-hunting, Balth was the one who insisted that they needed a place with those kinds of lights. This is also the same kind of lights that Vinnie had in his now-former apartment.

- You know how near the end of the episode “First Impressions” you have Balth going into Mr. Block’s office ? Well, the way the door opens in that moment is how the door opens for every room of the house, perhaps excluding the main entrance (I like the idea of their front door being an “old” one, aka the “normal” doors we have today).

- Every room would have a spot that can create “tactile panels”, like some holographic tablet that can be used to change the settings of the house, for example changing the lights or the internet or even lock the doors and blinds.

- In 2175, when they were forced to leave the future, Vinnie stole a device from B.O.T.T. that made him able to create some kind of forcefield around the house that only he and Balth can remove. So, even if they’re not there anymore, the house still is theirs and can’t be sold to anyone else. And before you ask why B.O.T.T. didn’t simply send agents to bring the duo back and force them to open the shield : the forcefield works with hand-scan detection and Vinnie convinced Balth to use their left hands, the hands with the wedding rings. So if time-agents come knocking, they could try convincing the agents to let them use the bathroom first and they could wash their hands and use the soap to remove the rings. That way, the scan wouldn’t work and the agents would have no way of knowing why.

    Living room :

- There’s more furniture than showed here like souvenirs from previous missions or some random stuff that belongs to them. I just don’t have enough imagination. : /

- Likewise, the corridor has a few pictures or posters, like pictures that Vinnie didn’t have the space to put in his memory room but still wanted to display. Also, I want to say that Vinnie would display pictures of his family (sibling, in-laws and nephews) but I’ll see him more as having an album for family pictures, or a framed picture on his nightstand.

- There could definitely be a carpet or two. They would either be modern ones to fit the fact that they’re from the future or vintage stuff found in some of their missions. One of the carpets would be under the coffee table. Another would be in the big-ass space between the living-room and the kitchen, or in the corridor.

- The style is a mix between old and new stuff, with also a few things related to their interests. Like, for example, the couch could have an animal pattern or something (AND BY THAT I DON’T MEAN REAL ANIMAL FUR).

- Speaking of the couch, after looking up “futuristic couch” on the internet, they would absolutely have one of those gigantic couches that have like a bed attached to them due to how big they are. Btw I have no idea which company came up with this design and I couldn’t care less. It’s just that the design looks cool and would fit a futuristic house.

- The side table is a floating square, given how we see in “A Christmas Peril” that tables in the future don’t have feet anymore (that’s one way to protect your toes).

- The floor lamp is more futuristic. It’s like a white orb attached to a lamp foot.

- The TV is attached to the wall. The remote is some kind of holographic tablet, kind of like the house settings thingy.

  - This is where Balth would spend most of his mornings and evenings when they stay home. He’d just be sitting with a cup of tea, most of the time also a book, with the sun illuminating the room, just feeling comfortable and peaceful. The side table/cube was bought specifically for Balth’s tea. He would also use the lamp while reading in the late evening, either for the peace of having little to no light and solely focusing on the book or as a way for Vinnie to be in the room with the lights at the lowest setting. And speaking of Vinnie, he would sometimes join his husband on the couch, lying down with his head resting on Balth’s legs (cue Vinnie falling asleep, leading to a frustrated Balth who needs to pee but doesn’t want to wake him up).

- Since there’s a mini-table for when Balth drinks tea, the table right in front of the couch is mostly used for Vinnie to rest his legs on.

- And speaking of fluffy headcanons : movie nights. From time to time, aka minimum once a month, probably more, the couple would be in their pajamas cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, with Dennis resting in Balth’s arms.

For the movie choices, Balth would choose science-fiction, especially if there are any Professor-Time-themed movies, but also historical fiction (for some reason I tend to see Balth as having a liking for history ? I think it’s because of the way he dresses + his small rant about pirates in “Game Night” ? Idk honestly. It’s mostly a random headcanon that’s here for some weird reason). As for Vinnie, it’s mostly animal documentaries (Balth falls asleep halfway through but Vinnie doesn’t notice until after it’s over) or animated/family movies (the future equivalent of D*sney, S*ny pitcures, P*xar etc. Which are movies Balth would enjoy as well). For some weird reason I’ll also see the two of them being into mystery movies (crime-solving movies basically).

And if they sometimes decide to watch other genres, I could see Balth having a liking for some romance movies, because for some reason I like the idea of Balth being sappy. Besides, the guy is passionate when it comes to proving himself at his jobs and takes them pretty seriously in order to reach his objective. And given how he can be insecure and sometimes feels like a ball of anxiety, who’s to say he isn’t passionate when it comes to love too ? And no, I don’t mean passionate as in “making out all the time”, I mean passionate as in taking relationships seriously and making it work while also wishing to make sure his partner knows that he’s loved, even if Balth isn’t really the best at expressing his affection all the time.

On a different note, to get back to other genres : Vinnie would probably like horror movies. Because if cuddling in front of a sappy movie is great, having your husband show his love and trust for you by clinging to your arm out of fear is even better, nevermind the fact that you’re as terrified as he is.

    Kitchen :

- It’s one of those kitchens with two walls of cupboards/cabinets, both on the ground and elevated. One of the cabinets is used entirely for snacks. Because Vinnie.

- The wall separating the kitchen and the living room “has a hole in it”. It’s like you have a small wall with cupboards, a hole, and a wall connected to the ceiling with a few cabinets. Basically, you look up “kitchen cupboards” and imagine that the space in-between is a hole instead of the wall (why is it so hard to explain something so simple ?).

- This would be the most futuristic-looking room of their house. Looking up at references, they’re that Pinterest post showing a room with white cabinets with round corners and what seems to be slide doors. This is pretty much how I’ll see their kitchen, except bigger, with a different wall color and with one wall not being here (see above).

- The table is floating because of course it does. The chairs don’t tho. Also the chairs are as futuristic as the rest of the room. And looking up the internet again, the chairs are shaped like chairs.

  - So I put a stove but tbh I’m not sure how much these two would cook, given how in the show they’re always seen eating out (granted they don’t have a kitchen in their ‘apartment’ in Milo’s time). And given how most things seem automatized in the future, let’s just assume that the house can do most of the cooking itself with like a robot (aka plot-convenience technology) but still needs the necessary furniture and ingredients for the recipes. Also, if there’s an issue with their cooking system, they’ll probably know a few recipes and can feed themselves (Vinnie’s oldest brother Enzie would definitely teach his younger siblings a few recipes, at least enough to survive on their own. And he would be more than happy to teach his brother in-law as well).

- I put 4 chairs at the table but honestly I could see them keep 2 at all times and put the others in the storage room, especially the times they get very busy with their job for a few weeks and don’t have the time for social life.

- At some point, Balth probably tried to convince Vinnie to have better food habits and tried to put his snacks on the higher shelves. Not only did it not work because chairs exist but also it led to Vinnie getting frustrated. So Balth dropped it. Though, he would still try to talk Vinnie into working out to stay rather healthy.

    Memories room :

- Vinnie’s personal space. He basically saw the third biggest room of the house and went “mine now” and Balth had no issue letting him have it (hard to say no when Vinnie’s eyes shine like that).

- He already had a memory room in his old apartment.

- Basically, Vinnie brings back souvenirs from his missions, along with pictures he took, and put them on display. For more information, I made a post about it a while ago, so check it out if you want info on it.

And side note : I learned more about ADHD and autism later on and found out that the correct word for Vinnie’s passion for animals is a special interest, not a hyperfixation. The main difference between the two terms is how long your interest last. The reason I used “hyperfixation” in my post is because 1. I didn’t know that “special interest” was a term that existed and 2. people with ADHD kept talking about having hyperfixations and most people see Vinnie as having ADHD. So yeah, my bad for using the wrong term. And while I won’t change the current text from my post, especially with someone in the notes correcting me (I don’t want them to look like an idiot), I’ll definitely add a few words at the end of the post about it.

 - This is where Vinnie spends most of his time when at home, trying to keep the room in the best condition.

- There’s a window in the room but Vinnie condemned it in case some of his souvenirs were sensitive to the sunlight.

- The room is made entirely of shelves, with like four-five rows on the same wall. The shelves are either integrated into the walls or they’re floating because future. In any cases, there’s nothing around the shelves, it’s just shelves with stuff on it.

- When you enter the room, one of the rows of shelves next to you has all the animal-related stuff he gathered before starting a relationship with Balth. The rest of the room can have a few animal-themed objects but the pictures tend to be more linked to him and Balth.

- Likewise, when you enter the room, on the shelf you’re immediately facing, there’s a miniature recreation of their wedding altar with their wedding picture in its center. The miniature is made out of the future equivalent of papier-mâché and the altar is themed around time-travel with objects from all kinds of time-periods and cultures. And for those who might ask regarding the picture : Vinnie has a black suit and carries the bouquet while Balth has a white suit. Both have a hat that’s basically Balth’s usual hat (with the Professor-Time goggles, because themed wedding) but colored like their respective suit.

    Balthazar’s office :

- The room has quite a few libraries but this is mostly decorations. Basically, this room is more of an 1800th century study than anything, especially a rich/royal study. Yeah, for some reason I see Balth as having an office that’s just “rich 1800th century” aesthetic. I think it’s from the headcanon of him being a runaway prince 🤔.

- So yeah. The bookcases are vintage, the piano is your usual black piano, the armchairs are vintage and tbh Balth almost never uses them because he’d rather read in the living room, and the desk is vintage, though the stuff on the desk is futuristic. Balth is up to date with the technology he’s using to work, he just likes the older aesthetic for the rest.

- On his desk, despite literally living with the guy, Balth has a framed picture of Vinnie (again, I want the stubborn gay disaster to be sappy from time to time, with his love language being small touches and attention to details like for example being able to quickly see the kinds of foods Vinnie like the most so that when he’s in a bad mood, Balth can get him that specific food to make it better ; or learning Vinnie’s body language to know when he’s upset or bothered by something).

  - Balth mostly spends his time here to make the reports on their missions or work some administration stuff when needed. When he isn’t at his desk, he’s there to play the piano.

And yes, I throw out the window that line from “Backwards to School Night” that indicates Vinnie doesn’t know about Balth playing piano but tbh I ignore or question quite a few things from this episode such as : the line indicating that Vinnie and Balth don’t live together in their time-period since Balth doesn’t know Vinnie’s weekend habits ; the line about how the ray thing age you down to 90% your current age and yet baby Vinnie seems younger than the parents despite his adult self seeming older; the fact that Melissa read a book 16 times in the span of 6 minutes ; the fact that it’s called a “age regressor ray” and not a “age regressor ray-inator” (seriously, I am the only one always expecting Vinnie to say “inator” and being disappointed when he doesn’t ?).

- The couple absolutely sing songs together with Balth playing the piano. Or at least Vinnie would sing a song in the middle of the living-room and have Balth be annoyed by it, only for Vinnie to hear Balth play the same song on the piano later and join him.

    Bathroom :

- Not much to say here. It’s a bathroom. It’s futuristic-looking. The mirror is a cabinet. The tub is round. The bin comes in and out of the wall. The clothes drier also irons the clothes. The toilet is glued to the wall. The walls are dark gray or dark blue or at least a darker color so that Vinnie doesn’t have to dim the lights to the lowest level when he’s showering. There are also several little lights along with a main one so that Vinnie can light the small ones instead of getting a headache due to the brighter light. During lazy/slow days, Balth would take baths instead of showers (and Vinnie would want to join him to make out). Balth may or may not sing in the shower (Vinnie definitely does). That’s pretty much it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    Guest/Storage room :

- Only used as a guest room when one or several members of the Dakota family are visiting the states and end up in the Tri-State-Area. So for 90% of the time, the room is used as storage.

- Bed’s not that big and very “squary”. Might or might not be floating.

- It’s mostly random junk that they don’t know where to put and don’t want to get rid of, like some stuff they got from their missions but that Vinnie doesn’t want in his room or some old things they want to give at a garage sale or that one Professor-Time body-pillow that Balth refuses to let go of while Vinnie just wants to trash the thing. The body-pillow being in the storage room in a junkpile was their compromise on the issue. Also, whenever someone might stay in the room, Balth makes sure there’s no way they will find the body-pillow (his sister in-law Bettie would never let him live it down).

- Not much to say here either aside from that.

    Master bedroom (the room in which the proportions are way bigger than the rest of the house because I have no idea what I’m doing) :

- I described the room quickly in my fic “nightmares” but yeah basically the room has several posters and pictures related to their interests, along with a bookshelf full of animal encyclopedias, time-travel facts, history books, Professor-Time fantasy books etc. There are also albums, whether it be family pictures or album of the two of them.

- Like for the living-room, there can definitely be more than what I described/pictured here. I’m just really bad at imagining the kind of stuff people would have in their bedrooms related to their interests. And speaking of which : at some point, there was the aquarium that Vinnie mentions in “Time Out”.

- Unlike the other rooms in which the windows have roller blinds (apparently that’s the english word for it ?), this one has curtains on top of it because Balth likes to open the window in the morning but he doesn’t want Vinnie to hurt his eyes. So with curtains, he can open them enough to light the room but not enough for the light to reach Vinnie’s face.

- The bed is pretty classic for a futuristic bed but with round edges and these two idiots definitely go crazy with the sheets design (animals, food, Professor-Time, past time-periods, stuff like that). Also, the bed is “open”. By that I mean that, if you look at futuristic designs, there tends to be some roof thing above the bed and linked to it. They wouldn’t have that.

- The nightstands are floating cubes.

- “Dennis’ chair” is just some random old wooden chair where Dennis stays most of the time. Balth almost never takes him during his missions and Dennis is a comfort object that Balth mostly talks to when sitting on the bed, movie nights aside. So the bear stays in the bedroom.

- The bookshelf would also be made of wood.

- The wardrobe is futuristic, with doors that can open by themselves with sensory detection. Also, unlike what that poor “drawing” shows, the wardrobe is “taller” than it is “larger”.

- The armchair is an egg chair.

  - They sleep

- They spoon

- Balth is the big spoon because 1. he’s taller and 2. he grew up sleeping while embracing a teddy bear and old habits die hard.

- When Balth goes to sleep or wakes up, he can’t help but play with Vinnie’s hair and give the small man a few kisses, feeling satisfaction in seeing his husband smile or try to pull away while laughing.

- Vinnie sleeps on the side closest to the window while Balth sleeps on the side nearest to Dennis.

- Balth’s nightstand has an alarm clock that’s basically just a holographic square with numbers on it, while Vinnie has an album or some random animal trinket. Vinnie’s alarm clock is not feeling Balth’s warmth against him. But if Vinnie has to use an actual alarm, the sound would either be some old-fashioned song or an animal noise (is this starting to get too much insistence on the “animal-loving” side of him ?)

- While Balth likes to read in the living-room, Vinnies likes it better to chill in the bedroom when reading. Also, during weekends and vacation days, Balth would sometimes read in bed before sleeping (yeah for some reason I really like the idea of Balth being a reader. I think it has to do with him being old or british ??? Weird brain is weird. And besides, if Balth reads, it would most likely be science fiction related to Professor Time). Vinnie uses this time as an excuse to cuddle.

- They have themed pajamas. Balth mostly has Professor-Time stuff (clocks, Heinz or Perry’s faces etc) while Vinnie has mostly animal-themed or food-themed pajamas.

- Vinnie sometimes sleeps naked in the summer. Balth is still trying to figure out how he feels about that.

- Random headcanon regarding Dennis : while he belongs to Balth who keeps him close when in doubt in order to vent or when he wants to get comfortable somewhere, I actually like to believe that, between the two, Vinnie is the one who talks the most to Dennis, mostly because Vinnie would just enter the bedroom and casually greet the bear, or he and Balth would have a dumb argument and Vinnie would playfully tell Dennis “Can you believe that guy ?” while pointing at Balth. Just, Vinnie being Vinnie and having random one-sided conversations with the bear.

And a little cute thing : while Vinnie really just talked to Dennis because why not, seeing the guy like the teddy bear so much would actually make Balth feel better about himself. I like to believe that grown-up men having plushies would still be seen as a ridiculous thing by most people (because toxic masculinity) and Balth got the habit of hiding Dennis when he was still trying to find the right guy for him. So seeing Vinnie have no issue whatsoever with the teddy bear and even liking him would definitely help Balth’s confidence, along with warming his heart.

- And since this post is all about headcanons : two things about phones and these two being sappy that have nothing to do with houses.

1. One day, Balth left his phone on a table and Vinnie decided to take a selfie with it because why not. After seeing that, Balth acted frustrated but ended up putting the pic as his phone background. Ever since, Balth’s phone background is a picture of Vinnie. The most recent one is from “We’re Going to the Zoo” with a picture of Vinnie holding squirrels in his arms while a third one is coming out of his pistachios-filled pants. The pic on the phone is a closeup, only showing Vinnie’s head and upper body. And for those who like angst, I’ll let you imagine how he must have felt having this as his phone background during the rogue arc.

2. Vinnie’s (numeric) phone password is 2703, aka march 27, the date of his wedding anniversary. The day is put first and the month second because Europe. Also, during busy weeks, this would be a good way for Vinnie to remember the anniversary.

(fun fact : I was trying to come up with scenarios for fics when I ended up thinking about Vinnie’s password and that number came to mind. So I just went “guess that’s their wedding date now”)

[morosemagick]

What Happens Here | Finan x OC One Shot

Prompt: There's Only One Bed (as joked about with @emilyhufflepufftlk!) Title Inspired by the song "What Happens Here" by Zara Larrson!

Warning: Recreational Drinking & Smut. Lots of Smut

Words: 4318

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @thebohemianpenguin @axe-does-writing @for-bebbanburg

She wasn't sure why she was here. Well, she was, Sigrid's baby brother was getting married this weekend. Her family followed many old norse traditions (never mind the fact that his fiance was Christian) so weddings in their family were a big deal. When her brother, Sihtric, called Sigrid to tell her the news he all but begged her to come home for the wedding.

They were the only family that mattered, In each other's eyes, it was a big deal for her to go home.

So she did.

Sihtrics' fiance made plans for the wedding party to stay in the same house for the whole weekend. The wedding party included all their friends… all of which are either married or dating each other.

One, then, would understand just how awkward it is when Sigrid finds out she'll be sharing a room with the only other single person in the party.

Her brother's best friend, Finan.

She didn't know much about the guy other than the fact that they went to Uni together, and that she just beat him out for best man.

Talk about being set up for disaster.

"Sigrid, I didn't realize you would make it in time," Sihtric tried to apologize privately after his fiance, Ealhswith, broke the news, but Sigrid just wasn't having it, "Maybe we'll ask one of the guys to just.. double up or something."

"Your entire wedding party is couples, Sihtric, you can't just ask them to not share a room with their partner," Sigrid argued as she slumped into a chair in her brothers' suite, "I can go to a hotel, it's fine."

"You're my sister, I want you here," Sihtric told her with a sad look, "Let me talk to Finan when he gets here."

"Tell me the room has a couch, at least?" Sigrid asked him and the look he gave her was not very comforting, "Why are you like this?"

"It's one weekend, Sigrid, please! I get married tomorrow," Sihtric walked over to his sister and got on one knee as he begged her, "all you have to do is play nice-"

"I am always nice!" Sigrid argued with a smirk across her face, but seeing the puppy dog look on her brother's face was enough for her to oblige, "Fine! I'll share the room, but he's sleeping on the floor."

"Thank you, Sigrid!" Sihtric smiles as he jumps to hug her, making the chair fall over.

Sigrid laughed as they fell, hugging him back, "Alright, alright! Let's get going, I need a drink!"

"I'm sure Ealhswith has started the party without us," Her brother laughs as they both get up, and fix the chair before heading down to the main living space of the house

————————————<3—————————————

Finan gets to the house last and everyone is starting to drink without him. Since everyone is drinking, no one sees him sneak in, finding Uhtred in the kitchen.

Uhtred was another groomsman, as well as Sihtric's cousin.

"Uhtred?" Finan questions as he finds his friend, who smiles at the sight of him, "Good lord, what have you done to your hair?"

The last he saw his friend, Uhtred had long hair with the sides shaved and the rest shoved in a high ponytail. Now that was gone too and the long hair cut short.

"Ah, Gisela did not want me to look like a heathen for my cousin's wedding," Uhtred chuckles as he greets his friend with a handshake, "How was the drive?"

"Long," Finan huffs with a smile, "Where's my room? I need to change."

"Your room," Uhtred snickered as he pulled out a bunch of shot glasses from a cabinet, "Someone should have been here earlier.. you would have had a better pick."

Finan scrunches his brows, "Why- where am I?"

Uhtred glances his way and shrugs, turning back to what he was doing, "You should be asking who you are with."

"Seriously? Sihtric wants me to share a room?" Finan questioned Uhtred, who snickers his breath as he found a bottle and started to pour them shots, "With who? No one else is staying here."

"The best man," Uhtred explained with a smirk on his lips, "You'll be fine."

Finan took one of the shots and downed it quickly, Uhtred already filling his glass, "I thought Sihtrics' best man wasn't coming tonight?"

"Apparently they made the flight," Uhtred tells him as he puts the rest of the shots on a tray to carry to the other room.

Finan didn't know much about the man who managed to upstage him as best man for his best friend's wedding, other than they were siblings. One he hadn't seen in a long time. It's hard to be mad at being picked over family, except for when you've known the guy for 5 years, and not once has he mentioned having a brother.

But it was not Finan's wedding, it was Sihtrics'.

Uhtred and Finan make their way into the main living room just as Sihtric and a woman Finan has never seen before enters the room. Sihtric drags her closer to the group of couples who make up the rest of the wedding party, and points to the woman, "Everyone, you remember my sister? Sigrid, this is the rest of the wedding party."

A sister?

Finan only learned about a brother… but a sister? He had no idea.

"It's nice to see everyone, again," Sigrid says with a chuckle and a slight wave, looking around at everyone in the room.

As her eyes meet Finan's, he can feel his heart drop to his feet. She's fucking gorgeous.

Uhtred puts the tray of shots down on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and everyone else reaches over to grab a shot.

"Wait!" Uhtred shots before anyone has a chance to take their shot, "Perhaps the maid of honor and best man should say a few words?"

Gisela; Uhtred's wife and Ealhswith's maid of honor, is first to stand, "To Sihtric and Ealsie! We all wish you many happy years together!"

Gisela then glances at Sigrid, and for a moment Finan is really confused.

That is... until she starts to speak.

"To my baby brother and his wife to be," Sigrid adds as she raises her shot glass, "Anyone who can put up with Sihtric is a saint, we are happy to have you become one of us, Ealhswith." Ealhswith wipes a tear from her face as Sigrid tips her glass just slightly, "Cheers!"

The rest of the party yells cheers, except for Finan, who's frozen in place looking mighty confused.

"You alright there, Finan?" Asks Osferth, Sihtrics' childhood friend and another groomsman, as he walks over and nudges his arm.

"I am… lost," Finan explains as he raises the shot glass to his lips.

"Oh, I should've told you," Uhtred puts his hand on Finan's shoulder and smirks, "Sihtrics' sister is his best man."

The words come out of Uhtred's mouth just as Finan takes his shot, causing the Irishman to choke on his liquor.

"She's what?!"

————————————<3—————————————

"He's handsome isn't he?" Gisela whispers to Sigrid as she lifts the cocktail to her mouth.

"Who?"

"Finan, Sigrid, are you not listening!" Ealhswith tries to whisper but she's a bit tipsy so it's not really as quiet as she intends.

Sigrid glances over her future sister-in-law's shoulder at the men, who are currently in the middle of a drinking contest. From the looks of it, Sihtric is not winning.

Next to her brother, cheering him on is Finan. There's a big, cheeky, smile on the Irishman's face as he encourages Sihtric to keep drinking and for just a moment, she can see his eyes glance her way.

Okay, maybe they are onto something.

Finan is tall with longish hair and a thick beard. Sigrid guesses he must work out with just how his broad his shoulders are, and his even broader chest… and those arms-

Okay, fine. He's gorgeous. They win.

But she won't tell them that, "Yeah. He's alright."

"Oh come on," Eadith chuckles, playfully shoving Sigrid's side, "Most of us would like a piece of that Irish-"

"Eadith!" Gisela gasps with a smile.

"What," Eadith shrugs, "I have eyes, I can use them."

"Osferth doesn't satisfy enough, Eadith?" Sigrid smirks, leaning back on the couch. They were an odd couple, Eadith and Osferth, but the two of them seemed to really work in sync.

"Oh he satisfies just fine," Eadith raises a brow as she takes a sip of her drink, "There is nothing I would change about how that man performs in bed."

"Alright- I've heard enough," Sigrid raises her hand as she leans forward to put her drink down and the other girls boo her and laugh at her embarrassment, "I need to piss, and you ladies need water."

"Ah, come on, Sigrid, don't be a prude!" Ealhswith whines as Sigrid starts to rise from her seat.

"I draw the line on sharing sex life secrets of men I've known since I was a child," Sigrid laughs as she gets to her feet and heads for the bathroom.

When she gets to the bathroom, she wets her face a bit to cool herself down, grateful she isn't wearing much makeup. After a deep breath, she starts to open the door to leave, and on the other side waiting is Finan.

"Oh, I didn't realize-"

"No it's fine," Sigrid tells him as she tries to go around him awkwardly. He doesn't move much, so they are pretty close to each other as Sigrid tries to go around but instead of moving they both find themselves stuck chest to chest in the doorway.

She's never been a shy woman, but she usually isn't the one to make the first move. So tonight, she's lucky she's tipsy because now she has all the confidence she needs to do whatever stupid thing she wishes.

Include flirting with this man.

"So you're the man I'm supposed to share a bed with," Sigrid smirks as her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes.

Finan raises a brow, "I thought it was just a room."

"I don't know if you've been in there yet," Sigrid glances down the hall to make sure no one is coming, and then looks back at Finan, "But there's only one bed."

"What a shame," Finan tells her as he leans forward, stopping right as he hovers her lips, "Looks like you'll be on the couch."

Sigrid doesn't break eye contact as she takes a deep breath and then smirks, "What couch?"

He leans back with eyebrows scrunched and a semi smile on his face, and Sigrid takes that moment to wink and walk away.

She has no idea how she's expected to spend the night alone with this man.

————————————<3—————————————

Finan is fucked.

More than fucked.

He's been trying to fight the urge to flirt with his best friend's sister all night, because… you know... best friend's sister.. and then he runs into her by the bathroom. It was so painfully tempting to pull her into the room, lock the door, and do whatever he can to please her but he contains himself.

Because that's his best friend's sister, and he really shouldn't fuck her.

But he really wants to.

And it's not just because she's gorgeous. It's her light smile, the way she laughs, and her eyes… Sigrid has the bluest ocean eyes Finan just wants to get lost in.

He's trying not to focus on the fact that they've basically set him up. Giving Finan the room with a single bed and single women.

At least… he thought she was?

"Osferth," Finan leans over the kitchen island so he can quietly ask his questions to his friend, "Sigrid isn't… taken, is she?"

"Why? Sharing a room seeming less terrifying and more interesting?" Osferth questions with a smirk of his own and Finan snacks the side of his head.

"I'm just asking, I don't want to make her uncomfortable," Finan tells him, hoping his excuse doesn't make him seem too pathetic.

"Just keep your pants on and you shouldn't have a problem," Uhtred laughs as he enters the kitchen with two empty cups in his hand.

"Where's Sihtric?" Osferth asks as Uhtred joins them at the island.

"I think he's gone to consummate his wedding a touch early," Uhtred laughs and the other two men roll their eyes.

"How are the women?" Finan asks, more curious about Sigrid than the rest of them...

"Gisela is tired, and Eadith may need help getting to her bed," Uhtred answers, looking directly at Osferth as he brings up his girlfriend.

"That's my cue then," Osferth chuckles, "Goodnight, gentlemen."

Finan and Uhtred wave goodnight as Osferth walks away, and when Finan looks at Uhtred he has a devious smile on his face, "What?"

"Sigrid has already headed to bed if you wish to join her," Uhtred tells Finan with a raised brow.

Finan rolls his eyes as he wipes his hands across his face, "Uhtred-"

"Your secret is safe with me," Uhtred laughs as he raises his hands in the air.

"And what secret is that?" Gisela questions as she enters the room.

"There is no secret, Gisela, I think your husband is drunk," Finan tells the women and Uhtred laughs again.

"If you want to fuck her just go ahead and do it, no one will tell Sihtric," Uhtred tells him, and Finan groans as Gisela hits her husband.

"Uhtred!"

"She's your cousin…"

"I'm not the one who wants to fuck her," Uhtred tells them in his own defense, "And besides, if you do decide you don't like her then Sigrid goes back to New York and you never see her again."

Gisela sighs heavily, disappointed with her husband, "Uhtred, you are awful."

"I am brutally honest, it's a gift," Uhtred shrugs as he pulls his wife close, "And you married me, remember?"

Gisela rolls her eyes and smirks his way, "Unfortunately, I do, and we should get to bed."

Uhtred raises a brow with interest, and immediately starts to pull his wife away, "Goodnight, Finan."

"Goodnight," Finan tells them as he's left alone in the kitchen. Now that he is alone, he sighs, and then makes his way to the main living room.

The room is empty now, with everyone going to their respective rooms. He can very well go upstairs, grab his things and then sleep on the couch. They look like they'd be unbearable to sleep on, but it would be better than attempting to share a room with Sigrid. It's the smarter choice, he tells himself as he heads upstairs to get his things.

There is no way he'll survive a night alone with that woman.

————————————<3—————————————

Part of Sigrid is grateful she went upstairs first, she was able to change into a comfortable pair of joggers, a baggy shirt, and a sports bra. She thought about forgoing the bra altogether, but she's a bigger chested girl and her back wouldn't be happy with that.

So instead, she chooses to go without her underwear.

But now she's alone for a while now, and part of her wonders if Finan is alone on the couch trying to sleep. She can't imagine they're any more comfortable to sleep on than they were to sit on, and starts to feel bad for claiming the room for herself.

Sigrid even feels bad enough to gather some of the extra blankets and pillows in the room and go to the door and bring them downstairs to Finan, but he's standing right there when she opens the door.

"Oh," Sigrid smiles shyly at the sight of him, "Hey, I was just going to-"

"I- I just came up here for my stuff," He stutters with a smile and after a moment or two they both chuckle.

Sigrid and Finan stare at each other for a few moments before she finally tells him, "Come in, it's your room too after all."

"I shouldn't stay," Finan tells her with a soft voice.

He's sweet and definitely not as forward as most of the men Sigrid has encountered in her life. It's a nice change of pace, to do the chasing instead of being chased.

"What If I want you to stay," Sigrid smiles, throwing the pillow in her hand back into the room, which frees her hand to take Finan's, "There's space in here for the both of us."

————————————<3—————————————

There's space in here for the both of us.

Finan swallows hard as Sigrid takes his hand and pulls him into the room, dropping the spare blankets she once held onto the floor. This must be a dream. Perhaps he's already asleep on the couch because there's no way this woman is leading him across the room towards the bed. She can't possibly be unbuttoning his shirt, agonizingly slow, working each button slowly with soft fingers.

He wants to devour this woman whole.

"Sigrid," He calls her name and she hums in response as she focuses on finishing his shirt, "What are you doing?"

"You can't sleep in this shirt, you'll get it wrinkled," She tells Finan softly, a smile on her face as her eyes keep on the buttons. As she undoes the last one Sigrid finally looks up, her eyes following her fingers up his chest and to his shoulders.

She's feeling him up as she slides the button-up shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. The shirt hits the floor with a soft thump, and Sigrid looks up, "Is this fine?"

"Is this fine for you?" Finan has to ask because he still isn't sure whether or not this is a dream, "You don't have to do any of this."

Sigrid smirks with her head at a tilt, "So you don't want me?"

"I just… don't usually sleep with strangers," Finan tells her as Sigrid's hands find his chest again, "Especially not my best friend's sisters."

"I hope not," Sigrid tells him as her fingers move down his chest, and he wonders if she can feel how hard his heart is pumping, "Thyra is married."

"You know what I mean, Sigrid," Finan tells her and she looks up again and smiles. One of his hands involuntarily moves up to touch her face, moving from her jaw to the back of her neck, "I just have to make sure you want this."

She nods, her eyes focusing on his lips, "You should've taken me in the bathroom."

"If I'm going to take care of you, it'll be on the bed," Finan tells her as he leans down, pulling her towards him as her eyes start to flutter shut in anticipation of his lips, "And I plan on taking excellent care of you."

First thing Finan notices when he kisses her is that Sigrid tastes like sweet alcohol and fruit. The second thing he notices is that he feels like a starved man getting sustenance for the first time. Her mouth is paradise, and he's only just started to uncover her.

His free hand moves to Sigrid's waist, pulling her closer until they are flushed together and she must feel how hard he is because she's grinding herself against the hardness in his pants.

The kissing gets more frantic, with tongues colliding and at one point Finan can feel Sigrid's teeth scraping against his bottom lip and it's intoxicating.

Both hands find their way down to Sigrid's waist and onto her ass, and with a tight grip, Finan lifts Sigrid into the air and brings her to the bed without once breaking the kiss. Not until he lowers her down, only then does Sigrid break the kiss to speak.

"Clothes… off," She whispers into his mouth as her hands find his waistline, trying to fumble with his belt, "Now."

Finan rises up for a moment to take off his shirt, pulling in up and over his head I'm one motion. Meanwhile, Sigrid has undone his belt and to speed things along Finan manages to take off the rest, leaving him in nothing but his boxers as he returns to however over Sigrid.

His hands move to her waist lifting up the shirt she's wearing up as they ride up her chest. Sigrid helps him lift it off her by raising her hands up as Finan pulls off her shirt. She smiles now as Finan goes for her pants pulling them down slowly to reveal the fact that she's gone without underwear.

Finan groans as the pants go lower, "Good Christ, woman." The pants are off and Sigrid moves quickly to remove her bra and now she's completely naked under him, and it's absolutely breathtaking, "You are goin' to ruin me."

Sigrid is smirking as he lowers himself down her body to get better access to her lower half, lifting her legs over his shoulder, as he mutters her praise's in Irish, and just as his tongue runs against her cunt that smirk fades into a gasp and a moan.

He's grateful Sigrid cannot see the cheeky grin on her face, from where his head is hidden between her legs, working her with his tongue like a man starved. She must like what he's doing because her legs wrap around his head and neck to pull him closer, and he can feel a hand find its way into his hair, pulling hard.

"Fuck, Finan," He hears her moan, trying not to be too loud by the sound of it, "Fuck…" Sigrid cums with a gasp, loosening the grip on his neck with her legs so that Finan can come up to air, returning to mouth so that he can kiss her and hard.

"You taste like heaven," Finan tells her, the words just slipping through his lips like he has no control, "I could spend the rest of my days between your legs and die happy."

"Then how would I know what your cock feels like?" Sigrid questions him with a raised brow as reaches a hand down to grab him through his boxers, "Take these off and fuck me."

Finan does what he's told, using one hand to pull his boxers down his legs and then kicking them the rest of the way off so he can continue to kiss Sigrid. Once they are gone, he goes to align his cock with her folds and remembers something very important, "Shit, condom-"

"UDI," She tells him as she breaks the kiss, "So if you're clean-"

"I am," Finan nods as he kisses her again and starts slowly pushing his way inside Sigrid. Her mouth opens to a gasp as he thrusts his way in, given another inch every time he returns until he's all the way in, "Fuckin' Christ, woman."

Sigrid wraps her legs around his waist as Finan continues to fuck her, his arms secure at either side of her head, as she wraps her fingers around his neck to hold herself steady against him. Foreheads touching because neither of them can seem to concentrate on kissing the other.

It's greater than paradise being tangled like this. With Sigrid.

It's home, and he never wants to leave.

He's getting close, Finan can tell because his breathing has started to shutter and he's groaning, so Sigrid lifts herself up to kiss him again to keep them both silent. A thrust or two more is all it takes and he finishes inside her, continuing to move just a bit more until he's sure he's given her everything he has to give.

Finan's arms collapse and Sigrid brings him down gently so that he's resting in her chest. They are both panting, and he can feel her fingers running through his hair and it feels incredible.

So he has no idea why he says, "I should probably go back downstairs."

"Leave this bed and I'll kick your pretty Irish ass," Sigrid tells him with a calm voice and when he glances up she's smiling.

"You think my ass is pretty?" Finan smirks and Sigrid laughs as he wraps his arms around her body and holds her close.

It looks like Finan isn't going anywhere.

Which is exactly what he wanted.

————————————<3—————————————

Sigrid wants to say she wakes up the morning after the best sex of her life to the face of the extremely attractive Irishman in her bed, but she doesn't.

Instead, she wakes up to Ealhswith looking directly at her with a smile on her face and her hand over Sigrid's mouth.

"Shush, I've come to sneak you out," Ealhswith whispers terribly with a giggle, holding a robe up with her other hand, "Come on, your brother is still sleeping!"

Sigrid takes the robe from her hands and Ealhswith closes her eyes as she covers her naked body, taking a moment to glance back at Finan. He's still fast asleep, and she desperately wishes she can stay in bed with him.

"Come on, Sigrid, you can stare at him later!" Ealhswith yell-whispers again, as she pulls Sigrid out of the room.

Once the door closes behind her, Sigrid glances at Ealhswith who has a big smile on her face, and raises a brow, "Ealhswith?"

"Yes?" She smiles wide, looking up to no good.

Sigrid crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"I did," Ealhswith chuckles as she pushes her along, "And all I ask for in return is to be the best man at your wedding.'

Sigrid laughs at Ealhswith's request as she gets pushed away.

Yet a year later, when Sigrid finds herself walking down the aisle in a white dress with Finan waiting for her at the other end, waiting next to where she will stand is Ealhswith in her best man's tux and a wide smile on her face.

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part seven

“The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.7k

rating: pg-13

warnings: language, the usual character tension

a/n: merry belated christmas (to those who celebrate)! and happy (almost) new years! stay safe and healthy everyone. hope 2021 is a better one for all of us. xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you fall (quite literally)

At the end of your first week of cleaning the stables with Jeongguk, you manage another capture the flag win. Nothing brought you more joy than seeing the look of absolute anguish on Park Jimin’s face when you ripped his red flag from right between his hands.

“Better luck next week, Park,” you teased as your cabin raised you up on their shoulders. “Guess we all can’t be winners.”

Your cabin celebrated with its allies at the campfire that night—singing and dancing to your heart's delight. Normally, you’re not one to dance much; the act is entirely too embarrassing to do in front of so many people. However, maybe it’s the stress from the week or the high from the win, but you feel the need to shake all your worries away.

And dancing proves to be a great stress reliever.

To the beat of drums and lyre playing, you sway your body beside your friends. Haru takes your hands in her own and spins you around, to which you can’t help but laugh. The two of you must look ridiculous right now. She spins you around in another 360 and you close your eyes, taking in the heat from the fire. When you open your eyes, you meet the cool gaze of someone you didn’t expect to still be here.

Across the campfire, Jeon Jeongguk stands by himself. You didn’t expect him to be here because his cabin was on the losing team. You thought that maybe he would be sulking in his cabin like Jimin probably is right now. Instead, his eyes seem glued to you. The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.

Even though he is yards away, you feel incredibly exposed at this moment. His round eyes are illuminated by the fire, and they seem to pierce you like he can see right into your soul or something. After another second, you force yourself to look away—the tension is just too much to take right now.

“Are you okay?” Haru’s voice breaks your thoughts.

Looking up, you notice concern clouding her eyes; however, there is also a gleam of interest there—probably wondering what made you stop dancing.

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Just dizzy, I guess.”

Haru doesn’t seem to buy it, but she doesn’t pester you about it again. “Well, too bad—I want to keep dancing with my best friend!”

The next morning, you make your way towards the stables feeling more exhausted than usual; body still slightly aching from last night’s festivities. When you arrive, Jeongguk is already there leaning against the gated entrance. Probably hearing your footsteps draw closer, he looks up; however, you don’t meet his gaze. Instead, you pretend the rising sun has captured your attention.

Fishing the key out of your back pocket, you unlock the gates and greet the Pegasi already vying for your attention. And much like the other days, you both work in silence again; you even go out of your way to avoid passing by him or having to make small talk. During your other hours here, the silence was at least kind of bearable. However, today, for some reason, something feels different and you don’t like it one bit.

As the hours pass by, the silence seems to eat you alive. It’s all that you can hear. Or maybe it’s just your heart racing and blood rushing past your ears. Whatever it is, you’re about to reach your breaking point.

“Are you joining your cabin later?”

You nearly drop your broom at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice echoing through the thick silence. Styx, he scared you. “What’s happening later?”

Even though he’s on the other side of the stables, you can feel him take a step closer. “You know, the canoe races. The one that’s always held during the summer around this time.”

In all honesty, you’d forgotten all about the canoe races. And this isn’t like the recreational, free time canoeing you can do. No—this race is one that all the cabins participate in. It’s just as intense and competitive as it sounds. You’ve never participated before, so it must’ve slipped your mind. But unlike you, Jeongguk has always participated—you know, being the son of the sea god and everything.

“I usually don’t, so probably not,” you say.

“It’s your last summer, right?” he suddenly asks.

You turn around at the question. “Why, yes. As a matter of fact, it is. I’m planning to attend college in New Rome.”

Which means, you don’t know when you’ll ever be back at Camp Half-Blood since New Rome is equally as safe for demigods. The thought makes you feel bittersweet since Long Island is your home. You’d always thought you’d be here, probably continuing to offer your services to the camp. However, there’s an opportunity to expand your life on the other side of the country; you’d be foolish not to go.

“So, you should participate then,” Jeongguk breaks your thoughts.

“I think we already settled on who would participate. Besides, there’s always more cabin canoe races throughout summer,” you add as a rebuttal. “Maybe then.”

“What a shame,” he hums. “I really wanted to beat you this time around.”

Jeongguk’s mention of obtaining a win begins to turn the gears of your rivalry in your head. You should’ve known he would do something like this; the son of Poseidon just loves to egg you on. And sadly, you always seem to give in.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

“I’m going to participate in the canoe race.”

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “What? I thought we already decided on who would participate.”

“I know, but I want to do it. You know, I’ve never participated before,” you tell him. “I should try this year.”

“You’ve never participated because you—”

You cut him off. “I have to beat Jeon Jeongguk at his own game. I will not settle for anything less.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You and that damn rivalry. I know you hate the guy, but I don’t think this is worth it.”

“Jeon is a thorn at my side; beating him during the canoe race is my chance to gain some leverage on him,” you say, ignoring what your half-brother just said.

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Just don’t say I didn’t try to talk you out of it.”

***

The breeze from the Long Island Sound whips your hair. You put it in a braid earlier to keep it at bay, but your baby hairs don’t seem like they want to cooperate today.

“I’m so excited, y/n,” Harrison, a second-year in your cabin, practically vibrates with serotonin beside you. “Thanks for allowing me to join.”

“Of course,” you offer him a smile. At least, you hope it’s a smile.

A part of you wishes that you listened to what Namjoon said earlier. Because at the end of the day, he’s one of the few people that know you well and maybe he’s right; maybe trying to beat Jeongguk today isn’t worth it.

“Are you okay?” Haru is suddenly in front of you. “Namjoon told me to come and talk to you, and try to talk you out of this because—”

“I’m fine, Haru,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend raises a brow at you. “You know, I’ve gotten pretty good and figuring when you’re lying to me. I know you always feel this intense need to beat Jeongguk at everything…though, I do wonder now if you’re starting to feel something else towards him…”

“Haru,” you warn.

She laughs a little. “Only joking.”

“I promise, I’m okay; don’t worry about me. This race will be quick anyway.”

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

Once everyone else arrives and the canoes are pushed into the water, you settle behind four others from your cabin. Harrison is seated in front of you, that beaming smile still stretched across his lips. “This is so exciting.”

The gentle rocking of the canoe does nothing to ease your nerves. If anything, it actually makes you feel sicker than you already are. “Let’s win this, for Athena!”

For Athena, your half-siblings mimic as they reach for their oars. Next to your canoe is none other than Poseidon’s cabin—whoever’s idea that was is definitely going to get a mouthful from you later—which means you-know-who is already staring at you.

“See you from the other side of the finish line,” Jeongguk taunts with a smirk. You try to return the same attitude tenfold.

“Don’t even think about any of your dirty tricks, Jeon.”

He scoffs. “Poseidon always plays fair.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “We’re in a huge body of water—nothing could possibly go in your favor.”

You don’t know if he catches your sarcasm, and you don’t have time to. Because before you can even think about it, the race begins at the blow of a whistle.

Sure enough, like you already predicted, Poseidon’s cabin gets the immediate lead. But you don’t let it faze you; this actually motivates you to work harder—commanding your cabin to row faster.

However, what you fail to realize is that what originally seemed like a beautiful day on the lake is suddenly shifting in the blink of an eye. Because you’re all concentrated on reaching the finish line, you don’t see the sudden storm clouds looming in on the horizon. The wind picks up and water begins to rise, rocking the canoes dangerously.

You grab onto the sides of the canoe for support, but it’s no match against the current. The gods must be angry. And when a wave crashes against the canoe, you lose your balance and plummet headfirst into the water.

Through the muffled sound of water rippling past your ears, you can hear echoed screams. But they seem terribly far away as you struggle to break the surface. Your hands grasp for air, but the tows of the current feel like a weight on your ankles as you begin to sink deeper into the water.

Worst of all, you can’t swim.

[xsparklingravenx]

breathtaking

Title: breathtaking

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Klee

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,275

Summary: The times that Klee and Albedo tell each other to breathe.

AO3

The paintbrush dashed across the canvas, and in turn, something true came to life.

On the grassy plains of Mondstadt’s surrounding areas, a boy stood silent, a palette of colour in one hand, the brush in the other. Gently, he curved those colours across the blank sheet, splashes of blue and green and brown, the boars that roamed the plains recreated in paint and chalk outlines.

These boars were unremarkable, but that in itself was what made them noteworthy. Such a contradiction shouldn’t have made sense, but to the boy, it was perfect enough to immortalise. Hilichurls and Abyss Mages took to these lands like they were their own, but still the boars persisted, living free and unafraid. At any moment, they could be hunted, for sport or for food, and yet the few before him had survived their entire lives out in an unforgiving world.

Now they lived immortal in his image. Caught up in his work, he paid no attention to the passing of time around him, how the sun crossed the sky, how the wind danced across his skin, the Anemo Archon’s quiet blessing. Another brushstroke here and there brought his vision closer to completion. The boars continued to graze. The grass was emerald green, and if he mixed his colours just right, then maybe—

A distant explosion had him pausing. The boy turned his head, a single strand of pale hair falling into his eyes as he searched for the source. Somewhere over the hills, it seemed, far enough from him that he needn’t pay it any mind. Were the Knights of Favonius out exterminating vermin today? He wondered, idly, if Sucrose was with them, though he didn’t identify any sort of Anemo traces in the air from this far away. Another boom in the air, and he cast the thought aside, returning his attention to his art.

Life stilled around him once more. That was it. The boars carried on quietly. The colours melded together. Three boars, quiet, content, living beings, born from the soil and destined to return to it. They breathed, interacted with the elements, survived—

An explosion shook the air, so close that it rattled his canvas. The boy stopped still, a frown on his face, because he was certain he knew that sound. And he knew that intensity.

And he knew that brand of giggling.

He opened his mouth to shout, to cry, wait—but he was a fraction too late. The sight before him erupted into fire and chaos as an explosion roared and took out every single sign of life in front of him. The grass flamed, the boars that had survived their entire lives out on the plain now little more than charred carcasses before him. He stared at the carnage in front of him, the canvas still depicting his quiet moment from moments before, wordless at the sight.

And then, from the smoke and disaster, a tiny figure came sprinting out, arms at her side, eyes wide. She skidded to a stop before the boy, planting her hands on her hips, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Albedo! Did you see Jumpty Dumpty! It went boom!”

Albedo looked beyond her, to where the grass was still burning, smoke rising up into the sky. “Klee…? Why did it have to be here?”

He knew better than to question her intentions, because her intentions were always cause the biggest explosion possible. She beamed at him, and then, spotting his canvas, she bolted up to it. “Oh! Oh! Were you drawing again? It looks really good!”

“I was…up until you decided to blow my subjects up, yes.” Albedo looked between the smoking grass, the charred meat that was cooking in the fire, and his art, which was miraculously unscathed. “How did you…why were you…where’s Jean?”

Klee giggled. “Master Jean is busy today, so she let me go exploring! I wanted to try out some of my treasures, but Kaeya says that ‘explosion inside city wall, grounded be thy woe’, so here I am!”

She admired his painting as he looked down at his colours and wondered if he should add the fires to his painting. It was hardly an interesting specimen to recreate.

“They look really cool, Albedo is so good at making pictures!” Klee sat on the ground in front of it and watched the flames rise. “I didn’t know you’d be here, I just got lucky! I haven’t seen you in a while…you’re always so busy, but now we can hang out, right? Maybe we can play with my treasures?”

Playing with her treasures was a shortcut to a fiery doom, but he couldn’t deny that her words instilled a sense of guilt in him. So caught up in his alchemic studies as of late, all his time had been spent with Timaeus and Sucrose. He’d been hanging up his do not disturb sign constantly, and Klee had been all but left to her own (chaotic) devices. “Sorry, Klee. I didn’t realise you wanted my attention. Seeing as the boars are all…well, halfway to becoming a sticky honey roast, I suppose I can spare some time to play with you. Not that it was exactly how I saw my day going.”

“Oh! Oh! Can we find a cooking pot? Can you make Woodland Dream? I love when you cook, Albedo! It’s just like when you do your alchemy stuff, like, you go poof and then…bam! You make something new!”

Her enthusiasm might have been infectious to someone else, but fortunately, Albedo had been blessed with the ability to remain calm and casual-minded in her presence. “Considering we have plenty of fresh meat right here, Woodland Dream seems like a waste.”

“But if you make that, then I can go and get all the fishes with Jumpty Dumpty! We can play, and then we can eat! And then you can draw. Maybe you can draw me?”

She hopped up as Albedo considered her request. He hardly ever used his skills to paint that which did not pique his interest in the realm of alchemy, but she’d asked so earnestly. Would it be so wasteful to dedicate a couple of hours to produce happiness?

“Albedo?”

He looked down. The fire was beginning to die away now behind Klee, the grass singed and blackened. She adjusted her backpack, and he said, “Yes?”

“You should breathe,” she said, smiling impossibly wide. “Come on, let’s go! We’ve got fishes to get!”

And then she was gone, dashing off across the plains, and he realised that she was right. In his pursuit of life, in his creation of art, he had not taken a single breath in. He closed his eyes and did as she asked, allowing himself the mimicry of human necessity. Nobody noticed, except her, and she didn’t question it.

In the distance, she turned and shouted, “Albedo! I’m gonna leave you behind if you don’t hurry!”

Packing up his art supplies, he chased after her, thoughts of eruptions in the back of his mind. It was going to be a long day, keeping her from wanton destruction, but at least she’d be happy—and he couldn’t deny that a day spent with her wouldn’t brighten his spirits regardless.

***

The outskirts of Dragonspine mountain were bitterly cold, the water close to freezing entirely, and yet the moment Klee went beneath the surface, Albedo didn’t hesitate to dive beneath.

It wasn’t supposed to be serious. He’d asked the traveller and her floating companion for assistance in collecting Starsilver for an alchemical recipe, and yet Lumine had shown up on the mountain side with Klee in tow, claiming that she’d been with her when he’d sent word to Mondstadt that he wished for her help, and that she refused to stay behind.

“It’ll be fine!” Paimon had declared in Lumine’s lieu. “Paimon thinks that even if things go bang, at least it’ll be nice and warm!”

“And we can always cook you over one of her open flames if things start looking dire,” Lumine added, looking a little smug.

Klee had been giggling then, but that had been before they’d run into the Lawachurl, before the lumbering beast had picked her up in its great hands and thrown her through the air. Her scream still rang out in his ears. Life born from soil was so fragile, and that was what he’d thought when he’d watched, helpless, as she hit the water and sank beneath it.

He had not thought through his plan, he’d just acted, tossing aside his sword and abandoning the traveller to the battle. The cold had not been a factor in his mind. The fight was forgotten. Miss Alice’s words echoed in his skull, treat her like a real younger sister!

Elder brothers protected their siblings. The traveller had told him stories of her own brother, how she would do anything to find him. She’d also mentioned the Fatui Harbinger who would do anything for the sake of his baby brother, and he knew of Diluc’s loyalty to his own non-blood sibling, how the rift between him and Kaeya had not prevented him from coming to his aid before. Albedo was not related to Klee, but she was his sister nonetheless, and that meant he had to save her.

The water was akin to ice, but his body withstood it, powered by something more than adrenaline. His eyes stung, but there she was, floating lifelessly, a small body so still, and something surged in his chest, emotion that he did not often feel, emotion that overtook his thoughts, his logic.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest, and oh, she was still a child, still so tiny, with so much power but as fragile as every other being. He thought of the boars she’d taken the lives of that day before his canvas, how she’d ended their existence with the childish joy of an exploded bomb, and he thought of the Lawachurl and its base desire to attack. They were not the same, yet they were; life was inexplicably difficult to understand.

He broke the surface, not choking or hacking, but that was normal for him. Klee did not move. There were no coughs, no groans, no cracking open of her eyes. She was limp in his arms, drenched through and frozen in his arms.

“Klee!” Albedo shouted, the roar of the Lawachurl’s fierce battle with Lumine nearly sweeping away his voice. He kicked his legs to keep them afloat, but he was losing his strength fast, the cold sweeping it away. “Wake up!”

Still, she didn’t move. She hung there in his grasp, and it was then that he realised that she wasn’t breathing. Fear gripped his heart as he dragged her through the water to the snowy bank. He had to hope that Lumine could hold it off without him. He had to hope that there was still enough of Klee left in her body for him to save.

Pushing back his shivers, he laid her on the snow and tipped her head back. Acting on instinct more than thought, he pressed the heel of his hand to her chest, one hand instead of two, not wanting to hurt her with his actions, but wanting to keep her with him through any means necessary.

Usually, he brought things to life through the act of creation, through alchemy, through his paintbrush and his clever mind. This was different. Klee was already living, he just had to keep her that way, and in his experience, keeping something alive was almost always more difficult than giving it a pulse. Practicality and alchemic practices went hand-in-hand, and yet here he was, doubting himself.

He pressed down. One compression. Two. Three. Keeping track of the time between them as Lumine shouted behind him, as the Anemo Archon’s winds whipped across his skin, as the unforgiving bitterness of Dragonspine bit deep into his bones of chalk. Albedo thought of blooming flowers, of exploding bombs, and he thought of Miss Alice and his own chest splintered beneath the pressure.

“Breathe, Klee!” he cried. “Breathe!”

And she did. She choked. Water expelled itself from her lungs as Albedo sat back to give her space. He heard the thump of the Lawachurl hitting the ground behind him, and, trusting Lumine to finish it off, he gave Klee all his attention.

As her breathing calmed, he asked, “Are you okay? Klee, speak to me.”

“Too much water…” she whispered, reaching out her arms to him. “I was scared…”

He knelt in front of her and answered her request silently, pulling her close to his chest as she buried her head into his. Alive. She was still frozen but she was alive.

“Your catalyst,” he said. “Your Vision. Use it.”

Between them, Pyro erupted, warmth in a different sense than her usual explosions. It swept through him and her both, and into his chest, she said, “You rescued me, Albedo…”

“Of course I did.”

And as she wrapped her tiny arms back around him, she said, “Breathe too, please?”

He closed his eyes and did. In and out in time with her, soil and chalk. The oxygen did nothing for him, but it did everything for her, so he followed her lead, this girl full of energy and life, his family until the end.

“Woodland Dream when we get back,” he said. “I promise.”

She held onto him tight, and he listened to her breaths, the cold forgotten, the fear draining away.

He could breathe for her as much as she needed him to.

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Eleven): Angels of Doubt, Bearing Broken Halos

Notes; The chapter title is pretentious as fuck, but I don’t care. I’m very happy with the beginning of this chapter so I’m very excite to finally let y’all read it fully. Overall, this chapter definitely is more of the build up that this uhhhh nice little religious family mayyyyyhaps be a bit less nice than originally thought.

Word Count:  10451

Chapter Warnings: Cult Angels, Animal Death (in the context of dangerous wildlife needing to be put down), A Judge Wolf, Indoctrination, Assault, Me Awkwardly trying to write himbo Nick Rye for the first time

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

They don’t go to The Spread Eagle that night, staying too late making plans. But it’s all for the best in the end, Casey would be more busy in the evening and if she’s interrupting his work, he’ll be less likely to listen. It’ll be easier to talk to him tomorrow just as the bar opens, before anyone arrives and during down time. Regardless, when she comes back to the trailer park. She breaks next to the registration building, checking her mailbox in case Cassie or Joseph had wrote her back, but no such luck. Maybe it will take a while for them to even get it?

A breeze passes through as she leaves the building, that familiar flower smell itching at her nose. The trailer park has fields of those white flowers surrounding it, the delicate petals seem ghostly in the moonlight. Moonflowers, the trailer park has to be named after them, these flowers that haunt her in her dreams. A shift of movement, far back in the expanse of flowers catches her eye. Someone tending to the flowers with a hoe, but she doesn’t know anyone in the trailer park who takes care of the flowers. Surely, if they had a grounds keeper, they’d start with the trash within area; not the flowers surrounding it. 

Dahlia decides to park her bike before investigating, not wanting to leave it in the open while she journeys through the flowers. She pulls out her phone once she’s parked, tucking one earbud in. If only to ease her nerves as she walks to confront the odd stranger. 

“When you told me I should text your brother.

I was walking with a blunt in my hand.

Double Jameson was in the other.

I was drinking like a spiritual man.”

She stands at the edge of the field of flowers, little the scent tickle her nose, watching the…person in the distance. Their gender, or at least presentation of it, unidentifiable. She blinks her eyes, when did she start seeing spots? Her tension eases, body and mind relaxing. 

“I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room.

I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room”

And she walks further through the flowers, brushing through them, fractals blurring her vision with every step. Her head swims and floats away, fuzzy as the smell surrounds her. She drags her fingers along the blossoms as she walks, grounding herself with their velvet touch, the contrast of her black painted fingernails against them. 

“And I could barely stand

He said, "Get some water, man"

'Cause they don't understand

I'm not what they think I am”

As she nears them with every unsteady step, she sees them more clearly. And truly they’re a ghastly sight. Shaved head and dirty white clothes; the smell of the flowers strengthens as she nears them, turning acrid with an edge. That smell comes from them, like they’d bathed in chemicals infused with the flowers. The mask latched around their grime coated face, covering their mouth is marked with the Eden’s Gate symbol. They pay her no mind, focused on tending to the moonflowers, their eyes are glazed nearly white and milky. Like Dahlia’s eyes looked her first night in Hope County, when she dreamed of Faith despite having never met her. 

“They can never ever understand me, no

What I came from, what I was before”

“Are you…okay?” She asks them, despite her own swimming vision and weak knees. 

“HelpmeFaithhelpmeFaithshieldmefromsorrow.” 

They grumble, not sing, the lyrics to one of Eden’s Gate’s songs. Their voice a rasp as if they can hardly breathe, each word running into the other, energy manic.  The moonlight shining on gaunt cheeks and white eyes makes them look dead, a walking corpse before her. She reaches out, gingerly touching their shoulder, hoping touch can break through whatever state they’re in. 

And then they scream, swing the garden hoe and bashing it against the side of Dahlia’s head. She’s knocked to the ground, head hitting rock and dirt. The creature screams out and jumps on her, trying to maul her. Vacant eyes staring down at her, her body and head too fuzzy to even give it the reaction it deserves. She should be scared, she should be terrified, but she isn’t. 

Gently, she puts her hands on each side of the person’s neck, applying pressure, not enough to strangle but to hold it at slight distance. It tries to dig dirty fingers into her flesh through her jacket, screaming mangled cries of pain or anger, she can’t tell as she looks over its face. The haunting glow of moonlight on their dirty face. 

“How you get to heaven with a broke halo?

How you get to heaven with a broke halo?”

“Help me, Faith,” Dahlia sings the song it used to soothe itself, “help me Faith, shield me from sorrow… From fear of tomorrow…”

And a switch has been flipped, it stops screaming. Body going lax, fingers no longer trying to tear her apart as she sings the church song, own voice overlapping the contrasting melody of her music. 

“Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sadness…From worry and madness…” 

And it’s slipping out of her loosening hold and climbing off her, resuming it’s gardening work, as if she never existed at all. On trembling legs and with her vision still blurring, she leaves, not sure of what else to do. A part of her knows she should be more panicked, more concerned, more anything, but then she takes another inhale the floral scent around her and she can’t find the energy. It fades as she leaves the flowers and their scent behind, vision steadying as she enters her trailer, the full reality dawning on her just as she shuts the door behind her. 

“What the actual fuck!?” She screams at her empty living room, because what the actual fuck did she just see?  Her mouth is dry and her brain a mess as distress finally shines through the haze. 

Dahlia digs her phone out, shutting off her music and doing a search. Her vision is still fuzzy with prisms of shifting colors, body still light and floaty. They were there the first time she saw Faith, they constantly itch her nose and make her eyes see things. The church compound was covered in bushels of them.  

Moonflowers, she searches, and sure enough the images show the white trumpet shaped blossoms. Also called datura, angel trumpets and it’s down a rabbit hole. They’re toxic and hallucinogenic, can be harvested for either medication or poison. Scopolamine and atropine are in them; Dahlia does not even remotely know jack shit about chemistry. But a quick search shows scopolamine has been used in everything from nausea medicine to truth serum. So…she may have just hallucinated the person? From the flowers… but when she touches her forehead, where the person stuck her, blood stains her fingers. She really did get hurt…

Dahlia grabs her sketchbook, sitting down on the floor before her coffee table as she’s done so many times before, and she draws what she saw. Painstakingly she tries to recreate them, to draw the gaunt of their cheeks and the grime on their skin. To catch the white emptiness of their eyes. And she dates the drawing, scratching out the date in as neatly as she can. And on the next page she draws her first weird dream, sketching herself vomiting flowers and blood, those moonflowers. She adds the rough date she remembers it happening in the corner when she’s satisfied. Then she draws herself burnt and marred with flowers blooming from her mangled remains, hand moving of it’s own accord to match the details, shutting out the rest of the world as she works to carefully craft every line. She dates it as well and then draws the newest one, smears of ink on bare skin with flowers blooming from them. 

Once each image is created with a date etched in its corner, she sits back and rakes a hand through her hair. She’s had nightmares before this, certainly, but never as frequent or vivid as these. Flowers are the recurring theme and she’s not sure why; maybe the datura are doing it? The scent of them always present, making her sleeping brain conjure odd images. She already has a list of things to do; the apple festival is the highest priority, but she still wants to know what each flower means and what on earth is working in those flower fields, what connection it has to Eden’s Gate. 

She’s exhausted, graphite from her pencil smudged and sticking to her hand. But she feels more at ease having put her demons into art, having created something out of this. There’s still a lot of questions in her mind. This constant back in forth of trusting the church only to doubt them again is frustrating. 

Dahlia barely manages not to fall asleep in the shower that night, exhaustion clinging heavy to her leaden muscles and pulling at her eyelids when she lays down on her couch. 

The junior deputy is running on two hours of sleep, coffee, and an energy drink the next morning. But that doesn’t stop her from swinging into The Spread Eagle as soon as it opens, Pratt in tow since they’re technically on shift. 

“Something wrong, deputies?” Mary May asks when they stride in, Dahlia can already see Casey through the kitchen window, prepping food for the later in the evening. 

“No, we actually just wanted to talk to you and Casey about something.” 

“What’s up?” Mary May raises an eyebrow and the chef’s head perks up. 

Dahlia explains Debbie and Doug’s situation, that John is trying to buy them out, at the very mention of the Seed sibling’s name she can see Mary May tense. But the tension lessens, smiles on the bartender and cook’s face when the deputy mentions their plans for an apple festival. 

“I know we could use more cooks selling food there and Debbie mentioned you work with the Testy Festy, Casey.” 

“Plus, figured the band that plays here, might be willing to work a night or two if you talked to ‘em Mary May.” 

“Look, you had me at pissing off John Seed,” Mary May says, grinning, “I’ll talk to the band and Casey, you damn well better help them out.” 

“Come around here, sister,” Casey calls out, voice deep and booming as she walks around into the kitchen already warm as starts prepping food, he spares her a glance as he minces vegetables, “your destiny hangs off you like a coat, the soul of a warrior, and the heart of a hero.” 

Dahlia blinks, taken aback by his unabashed and weirdly soulful compliments. She doesn’t really believe in destiny nor does she see herself as a warrior or hero, but she certainly appreciates the thought. Her heart, that of a hero apparently, warms and she smiles after another second.

“So…you’ll help?” 

“It’s important for people to gather, to bond, and feel a sense of community.  I’ll call Deb and Doug to offer any help I can.” 

“Thank you so much!” Dahlia grins: Casey is definitely an odd duck, but he cares about the community and willing to help. So, a fantastic guy in her book. 

“Happy to help, sister.” 

First two people dragged into their plan, Pratt and Dahlia give some friendly goodbyes before being on their way. This is already coming together and Stray is nearly vibrating with excitement as they leave the bar. 

The pair continue to do their patrol while swinging in to talk with folks about the festival. They swing by Lorna’s Truck Stop, Dahlia unable to resist snapping a picture of the giant cheesy cow statue outside of it before they walk in, door chiming.  An older woman is talking to someone in a green hood, the woman with chubby cheeks and blue eyes pushing a little bag of mini pies into the hooded person’s bruised hands. 

“Here you go, Jess, on the house as always.” 

“Thanks,” the hooded girl responds, an awkward gruff to the words before she leaves. When Dahlia catches a sight of her, Jess has a face of mottled bruises and cuts. 

“Anything I do for you, Deputies?” 

“We were hoping you could help us out, Lorna,” Pratt starts. 

And just like Casey and Mary May; Lorna’s all bright smiles and kind eyes, happy to help. Even pushing bags of the free small handmade pies into the deputy’s hands before they go. There is something undeniably heartwarming at everyone’s willingness to help. She crams one of the little pasties into her mouth, sugary berries on her tongue as they get back into the cruiser. 

The shift passes by with ticketing traffic violations and stopping in to rope people into helping out. Hudson and Brennan sending texts letting Dahlia know that Grace has agreed to help and Adelaide will too if only so her boytoy Xander can have a smoothie stand during the festival. Riding through the valley, Dahlia sees a billboard advertising gun lubricant, Grace Armstrong’s face plastered on it, though her eyes on the board seem off. Dahlia too far away to put her finger on it, but it looks like that part of the advert has been damaged.  An award-winning sniper and veteran; well loved in the community. Dahlia only saw a glimpse of her at the barbecue, talking with Hudson, but it seems clear just how important she is to the county. 

Within an hour of their shift ending, Doug and Debbie have them called out to the orchard. Their smiles are bright, the middle-aged couple holding each when the deputies pull in. Pratt’s still trying to pretend to have a grumpy face but there’s still a slight smile pulling at his lips as they get out of the cruiser. 

Arms are wrapping around Dahlia in a second, Debbie pulling her into a tight hug, the young deputy tenses hands hovering awkwardly at the woman’s sides. 

“Thank you, so much,” Debbie says, pulling away but her hands still on Dahlia’s shoulders, “we’ve been getting calls all day, everyone wants to help us do this, thank you so much.” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s no problem…just happy to help,” Dahlia flusters under the attention, proud of what she’s done, but squirming under the weight of gratitude. 

“Well, we certainly appreciate it,” Doug tells her with a smile, “but we called you out ‘cause we got some flyers made, figure’d it help advertise, though word of mouth already seems to be doing us a lot of good.” 

“We could definitely hand them out, see if some places are willing to hang them up too.” 

“And now we’re the flyer brigade,” Pratt grumbles under his breath and Dahlia jabs her elbow into his side. 

“I’ve already been coming up with everything I wanna sell at the festival, but if you two have some free time Sunday, I could use some taste testers too,” Debbie offers, with a smile, “least I can do is feed you for all your help.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Dahlia agrees readily. 

“I…could probably swing by.” Pratt tries so hard to sound above it all, but free apple pie can apparently draw even him in. 

“Can’t wait to see you both then!” 

They wave goodbye to the couple, Dahlia packing the flyers with her into the cruiser car. The ending hours of their shift and the day is spent finding places to hang them up. Mary May posting them in The Spread Eagle, hanging in the window of the garage and general store, Whitehorse even letting it be posted up in the window of the department.  Dahlia’s ride home that night takes longer as she stops at places to ask if they’d hang up the advertisement; after getting Lorna’s Truck Stop and Audrey’s Diner to put them up. Dahlia stops at the Hollyhock Saloon, bartender agreeing to hang it up in the small bar, the rookie deputy giving a quick hello to Brennan and some of the other officers gathered at his table. The 8-bit Pizza bar hangs them up without any question, happy to help, and Dahlia manages to convince Darcy to hang it up in the registration building of the trailer park before she heads in for the night. Dahlia crashes easily that night, sleep finding her as soon as she hits the couch.  

The next day Stray is hit with déjà vu as they’re called out to deal with Eden’s Gate blocking another road. She’s still not sure why this is apparently a thing they do. And to her misfortune it’s not Waylon or members of the church she likes waiting behind the cement block when they pull up this time; but Theodore and Lonny. Because of course. 

“Deputies,” Lonny forces a smile, “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Well, you’re breaking the law, so there’s that,” Pratt says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, heard you two gave some of our members a hard time about blocking off a road,” Theodore comments, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’ll refer you back to the fact it’s against the law,” Dahlia grumbles, “why on earth are you blocking the road anyway?”

“Got some property nearby that needs some work.” 

“The church own a lot a property?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow, that was Waylon’s reasoning too. 

“Soon to be even more when John secures the orchard for us,” Lonny has too wide of a grin as he looks Dahlia over, “though rumor has it some little cop is trying to get in the way.” 

“Irrelevant, you’re breaking the law. Just scram and there won’t be any issues.”

“Look, h-“ 

“We’ll be going then, deputy,” Theodore puts a hand on Lonny’s back, reigning him in. Though the way Lonny sneers tells Dahlia that their conflict is only resolved for the moment. 

Regardless, Pratt and her watch as the men yet again pack away the blocks and clear the road out. Dahlia still can’t quite figure out why on earth they’d need to or would want to block the roads. Between that and the strange person she saw in the flowers, bearing the churches symbol, things just seem to get weirder and weirder. She considers for a moment asking the church members there about the person with the shaved head, but she has a feeling asking more questions will just put her higher up on Lonny and Theodore’s shit-lists. 

“Still don’t get why they keep blocking the roads,” Dahlia comments when they get back in the patrol car. 

“They’re assholes, what more reason they need.” Pratt shrugs before starting the cruiser engine and Dahlia just doesn’t feel like it’s that simple. 

“Well, if they do it again, we don’t really have a choice but to arrest ‘em do we?” 

“Can’t let them get away with shit forever; three strikes seem fair.” 

Questions still run through her mind; but there’s no way of getting answers at the moment, left to bury her curiosity as they leave back down the winding roads. Hours pass and bright blues shift to pastel pinks as the sun sets upon Hope County. 

That evening at The Spread Eagle, she’s listening to Pratt and Hudson argue about something; she can’t even be sure what but she’s just amused to not be at the butt of the humor tonight. She’s cramming fries into her mouth when she feels eyes on her. 

“That’d be her right there,” Mary May says, pointed out at Dahlia as she talks to a man the young officer has only seen in passing. Shaggy dark hair under a cap and beard on his face, though the last time she saw him he’d been wearing glasses. She thinks it’s Nick, only having seen a glance of him at his own barbecue. 

“If I’m in some sort of trouble, I’d like fair warning, Mary May.” Dahlia comments, unsure why anyone would be trying to find her in a crowd. The blonde’s smile eases her nerves as she comes across the bar, the man walking Dahlia’s way. 

“No trouble, Deputy, Nick here was just wanting to know which one of you started the apple festival. He’s going fly a banner ad around for Debbie and Doug.” 

“Oh, that’s awesome.” 

“I just wanted to find out who was helping them out, Nick Rye,” he introduces himself, sticking his hand out for her to shake. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” 

“I’ve been crop dusting for Doug and Debbie for years, last thing anyone needs is for John to get his hands on that place.”

“That seems to be most people’s sentiment.” 

“Told ya just about everyone is sick of his shit,” Mary May says with a shake of her head, “it’s about time he doesn’t get what he wants.” 

“That son of a bitch has been hounding me and Kim for months now, trying to buy our place.”  Nick’s jaw clenches, irritation coming off him in waves. 

“I know Kim damn near broke his nose for it.” 

“Wait what?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow; how often does John harass people? 

“Listen to this,” Nick gesture emphatically, now sitting down next to Dahlia, “asshole shows up to the house while I’m gone, trying to bully Kim into selling the damn place, while she’s pregnant. What kind of sick fuck shows up at a man’s house while he’s gone and tries to strongarm his wife into signing the place over. Fuckers lucky I wasn’t home.” 

“You not being home was kind of the point of when he showed up.,” Mary May reminds him, “besides, no offense, but even ready to pop I think I trust Kim’s right hook protected her more than yours ever could.” 

“Now, that’s just mean,” Nick says with a slight pout to his face, reminding Dahlia of a tall puppy dog. 

“It’s okay Nick, anything you lack in strength you make up for in…” Mary May seems to have to search for the next word, normally brains would be the natural contrast, “well, you just keep being you.” 

“Never really thought about being anyone else; well except maybe an eagle, but I don’t think that counts.”  

“No, it doesn’t really count, Nick,” Mary May says with a slight laugh.

Dahlia stifles her own laugh raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous turn of the conversation. Nick is sweet and willing to help out with the festival, so she won’t spend too much time questioning his desire to be an eagle. It’s not long before Pratt and Hudson fall into conversation with the pilot; allowing Dahlia to comfortably settle into the background as the night winds down.

It’s not even the noon the following day before things around Hope County manage to pick up pace.  Sirens and lights flashing as Pratt rushes them up north towards the mountain; there’s a palpable tension. Crisis situations are rare; most days filled with handing out traffic tickets and dealing with roadblocks. Hell, the county is boring enough that the sheriff would allow them to actively work on a festival during shift hours. So, a call requesting EMS, all deputies and units, and the F.A.N.G Center; is definitely out of the normal. 

They see the gathering of people as they pull up, Whitehorse is talking with workers in F.A.N.G Center shirts, Hudson and other officers gathered around and EMS workers carrying someone into the back of an ambulance. 

“Pratt, Rookie; over here now!” The sheriff calls out for them and they rush over. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt is the one to ask. 

“Wolf, possibly rabid, but we don’t know. It attacked a pair of hikers. We tried to tranq it but nothing is bringing it down, we gotta find it and put it down before it hurts anyone else.” The F.A.N.G Center employee explains to them. 

“No way to get around killing it?” Dahlia asks, she understands it can’t always be avoided, but she would prefer not to.  

“We hit that damn thing with enough tranq to take down an elephant and it still tried to maul us before running off; tried to get it with a snare pole and it broke it. We can’t rehabilitate an animal we can’t get near and if we let it go; it’ll hurt someone else.” 

“You heard the man, alright,” Whitehorse’s voice booms as he starts addressing everyone, commanding attention “we got a wolf to find, grown wolf, white fur and aggressive. I want everyone to stay in groups; we have tranquilizers, snare poles, and what’s used to put ‘em down. We want to try to do it as humanely as possible but protect yourselves and keep an ear to your radio. We need to make sure the trails are safe and can’t let anyone else get bit; move out!”

The deputies are given tranquilizer guns, the snare poles, and syringes filled with pentobarbital. Though, given what they’ve been told, she’s not completely sure how effective any of it will be. If the wolf has enough tranquilizers to take down an elephant in it already and is still moving; as well as having previously broken one of the snare poles, then how on earth is any of this suppose to work? 

But she doesn’t voice these concerns as she follows after Pratt, Hudson, and another police officer tagging along so they can maintain a decent sized group per Whitehorse’s instructions. 

The mountains are beautiful, she thought that when she’s gone hiking before, but even during this tense situation she finds herself amazed by how gorgeous it is. Bright green summer grass and towering trees as far as the eye can see. Mountains that reach up to kiss the bright blue sky. 

Dahlia stays at the back of the group, letting Pratt and Hudson lead as she keeps her ears and eyes peeled for anything suspicious. The sneer pole is across her shoulders, her wrists on top and holding it there as she walks. She half listens to Pratt and Hudson talk; something about people making up werewolf rumors because the wolves have been acting wilder and wilder lately. She’s reminded of her meal at the Grill Steak, that man who warned a group of people about wolves. He claimed they were trained by Eden’s Gate; but those still just sound like conspiracy theories. 

Tension crawls up Stray’s spine, skin forming goosebumps at the sensation of being watched, then the sound of snapping branches coming from forests that surround the trail she walks along. She moves without thinking, leaving the trail and her group behind, following where she heard the noise. 

Branches and brush scratch at her arms as she ventures deeper into the wooded area; then she sees his back. Jacob Seed, why does there always seem to be a member of their family just around the corner when trouble happens? 

“Something you need,” he says, not bothering to turn and face her, examining his red rifle. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

“I shouldn’t be,” he spares her a glance over his shoulder, blue eyes rife with condescension, “last time I checked it’s a free country, ain’t it?” 

“That’s not what I mean. There’s a wolf running around; possibly rabid. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” 

And he laughs; dry and deep, the sound making her raise her eyebrows. Why is the idea of being mauled by a rabid wolf so funny to him?

“You worrying about me?” He asks, finally turning to face her in full, shifting the bright red gun to the holster on his back. 

“I mean, yes? My job is keeping the public safe and you are a member of the public.” 

“Pfff, you’re just a pup,” he says walking past her, “be better off watching out for yourself.” 

His hand is large and rough as it ruffles her hair while he walks by; his palm and fingers nearly encompassing the entire top of her head. His hand is probably bigger than her face she realizes, heat flushing up her face though she’s not sure of why. He’s so condescending and patronizing and fucking giant; the last point isn’t entirely relevant but it’s still true. 

“I’m a deputy, don’t patronize me.” She says, reaching up to grab his hand from her head, capturing it in her own. His rough scarred hand is nearly double the size of her own; warm calloused skin against her own. 

“You having fun there?” He asks, when she doesn’t let go of his hand right away, instead pressing her small hand back against his palm, comparing the immense size difference. He really could probably wrap one hand around her entire head. 

“Your hands are so big, wow.” 

“’Preciate it pup.”  

And he laughs again, still dry and brief in it’s sound, pulling his giant hand from her smaller one before he leaves. She glares at his back; corded muscle shifting beneath his black tee shirt. Despite her pout, she can understand why he’d see her unable to defend herself in comparison to him. She’s been confident in her physical abilities for a while; but she imagines a man like Jacob isn’t scared of anything. 

“Rook, where the hell are you?” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio as Jacob walks off. 

“There was a hunter out here, I was warning him about the wolf,” Dahlia explains herself, she wasn’t suppose to leave the group per Whitehorse’s orders, but no one could blame her for warning a civilian. There’s something odd about thinking of Jacob as just a hunter or civilian; though she’s not quite sure why. 

“We’re in the woods near the Visitor’s Center, get over here, you pain in the ass.” 

The radio crackles out and Dahlia gets on her way; she knows the Visitor’s Center is south of where she is. Though she has no sense of direction, so that has little bearing on her ability to find it. She hikes down, feeling that’s the closest approximation to south that she can get, sticking a little closer to the woods than the paths. She prefers the shade and atmosphere of being surrounded by the trees. 

But the further she travels down, the sparser the trees grow, exposing Dahlia to the sun. Green grass and branches crushing underfoot as she stumbles down the terrain. She can just imagine Pratt and Hudson’s frustration, but warning someone about a rabid wolf is certainly understandable.

A drawn-out howl echoes through the woods, making the deputy freeze. Sunlight is warm on her face and stinging at her eyes as she turns towards the sound. A spire of craggy rocks coming off the mountain; the silhouette of a wolf howling with the sun behind it. She uses her hand to shield from the sunlight, straining to see more detail. Seven distinct darts stick from the wolves back; tranquilizers. 

Dahlia quickly tugs her uniform shirt off from over her black tank top, wrapping the fabric around her forearm. Not quite the cushioned guard they use for training police dogs, but it will provide some barrier between it’s bite and her skin. Worse case scenario, she’ll be taking rabies shots once everything is done. She holds the syringe of pentobarbital in one hand, she has her firearm too if that’s unable to bring the wolf down, but she prefers to let it go peacefully if she can. 

She stays crouched down as she approaches the peaked edge of the mountain, craggy rock building up to a spire, levels to climb up to reach the clearing where the wolf sits. Dahlia stays low as she climbs, moving as quietly as she can, using a blue grappling hook handle to help lift herself up to the final level. There’s a gap in the clearing; a log showing a passage between craggy rock to craggy rock; boulders surrounded by grass. She can see the wolf, but it’s yet to noticed her, another howl echoing out as it cries out to the sky. 

It’s beautiful and she’s all at once ashamed that it has to be put down. Matted white fur with a black nose and lips; it’s eyes are luminously silver, like moonlight. Red is mottled across it’s face, red frothing around it’s mouth, as well as a brighter crimson stroked across it’s brow and down it’s nose. Across it’s furred shoulder blade and spine are seven different tranquilizer darts that were shot at it, how has it not passed out? It doesn’t see her not right away, then it’s nostrils twitch and it’s lips pull back to snarl, red tinged drool dripping down it’s maw. Then it’s gaze is on her, growling and baring it’s teeth. 

And then it pounces.  

She puts up her cloth wrapped forearm, the force of it’s body hitting hers knocks her onto her back. It’s teeth snap into the fabric, as it tries to chew through her arm, the edges of fangs just grazing the flesh beneath. One large paw presses against her wrist, attempting to pin her limb down so it can rip the meat off her bones. 

Dahlia pulls back the plunger on the syringe before slamming the needle into the thick of the wolves neck, sinking through fur and flesh before she pushes the chemical through. The wolf snarls through it’s bite on it, then she watches that shine in it’s silver eyes die. It’s mouth goes slack and then it’s body falls limp on top of her. 

The deputy pushes the wolves dead weight off of her, getting up onto her feet, she touches the torn shirt wrapped around her forearm. Drool and blood has stained the green, small damage done to her skin under. It stings but nothing she can’t deal with; the idea of getting rabies shots worries her more. She crouches over the wolf and looks at it’s face, the red around it’s mouth is darker, rusted and clearly blood. But the brighter more purposeful crimson looks like paint. 

She remembers the warnings she overheard in the Grill Steak before; someone warning conservationists about wolves owned by Eden’s Gate. Though, he called them a cult. It’s not for sure or a real connection; conspiracy theories and paint. But, who could have gotten close enough to paint the wolf’s face? Who would want to? 

“Rookie,” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio. 

“Pratt…” 

“Rook, if you’re not here in five minutes, I’m gonna kick your ass,” Hudson threatens in the background. 

“Please, she’d probably like that.” 

Dahlia’s face flushes at Pratt’s teasing, she can’t say he’s completely wrong, but that’s not the point.  She hefts the wolf’s corpse up onto her shoulder, carrying it’s heavy weight, the head of the furry creature beside her head. It’s fur is soft and thick despite the matted nature. She’s not big on hunting culture, but the wolf would make a nice rug. 

“I got the wolf,” she says into her radio, holding it in one hand while the other keeps the carcass steady on her shoulder as she carefully makes her way down the craggy rocks. 

“What?” 

“I got the wolf,” she repeats to Pratt’s flat question. 

“What? Wh-where the fuck are you?.” 

“I’m on a big ass like spirally mountain thing.” 

“That tells us literally nothing,” Hudson informs her.

“Uhhhh,” Dahlia looks over the edge, of the elevated mountainside, “I think I see a helipad nearby?” 

“Fuck, I know where you are, stay put. Okay, do not approach the wolf.” 

“Uhhh, I think you misunderstood me.” 

“What do you mean?” Pratt asks and she can just imagine his raised eyebrow. 

“I mean, I got the wolf, I already put it down. We can call off the search, but, uh, I think we have bigger issues.” 

“Did you get hurt again?” 

“Hey,” she objects to his tone, “you make it sound like I’m always getting hurt.” 

“You didn’t answer me.”

“No, I did not get…seriously hurt.” 

“Oh lord,” Hudson grumbles in the background. 

“Look, that’s not the issue, alright. Just get up here and let Whitehorse know what’s going on, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Dahlia finds a steady rock in the clearing to pull herself up onto as she waits, since apparently Hudson and Pratt have figured out where she is. She tries to look for anything else on the wolf that could indicate it being owned; but nothing. Dahlia does find herself wondering why it’s fur is white? Aren’t white wolves usually those in snowy climates, for camouflage? 

She doubts she’ll receive any answers, so she tries to quiet her mind. The sun warms her skin where she sits on the rock, white wolf still up on her shoulder, ripped uniform shirt still wrapped around her forearm. It all forms an odd picture, she’s certain. 

It’s less than an hour or so before she hears the rustle of footsteps; Hudson and Pratt along with the other officer walking up the way to her. Pratt just stops a second and shakes his head, Hudson is rolling her eyes. 

“Hello,” Dahlia says with a soft wave. 

“What the actual fuck, Rook?” 

And she cracks up; unable to help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation and Hudson’s flat response. She may have already hit the highlight of her career here. 

“Stop laughing; it’s not funny, you could have gotten seriously hurt!” Pratt tries to scold her but he’s laughing through his words, the oddity of it all must be hitting him as well. Dahlia presses a hand to mouth to try and stifle her laughter as Hudson gets her radio out. 

The senior deputy radios Whitehorse, letting him know they’ve gotten the wolf. He tells them where to meet him with the body, so the veterinarian and F.A.N.G Center workers can examine it. Dahlia will be reliant on actually listening and following obediently behind the older deputies.

“C’mon, Rookie, let go.”

“Alright.” Dahlia hops down from her rock and starts to follow after them down the mountain. 

“You need help packing that?” Pratt offers, probably because the wolf is nearly the length of her entire body. 

“Nah.” 

“You just feel cool packing the wolf on your back, don’t you?” Hudson is the one to call her out, raising her eyebrow with a soft smirk on her lips, looking entirely too pretty. 

“Uhhh….” 

“God, you’re a dork.” 

“I can’t really argue with that,” Dahlia admits with a red face and shrug of her shoulders, happy to see Pratt and Hudson smiling at her dorkiness. 

“What happened with the hunter you were warning?” Pratt asks after a beat of silence as they keep walking, helping her over a craggy step with a hand on her hip to keep her steady as the weight of the wolf limits her movements.  

“Uh, asshole just patronized me and left. I don’t know why I still talk to him, he’s always a dick,” she says, rolling her eyes when she thinks about Jacob calling her a pup. He likes to comment on her being a puppy a lot. 

“Someone you knew?” Hudson asks, offering a hand to help Dahlia get over a large branch in the way of the path. The ease at which the two older deputies silently help her, makes a soft smile pull at Dahlia’s lips. Silently grateful for them as she answers their questions. 

“Jacob Seed.” 

“Seriously?’ 

“What?” 

“You don’t find it a little fuckin’ weird how the Seeds are always around you?” 

“I mean, they’re not around me anymore than anyone else.” 

“They really fucking are; you went to the barbecue, John jumped at the chance to rope you into that.” 

“Churches like new blood, it’s n-“ 

“You’ve apparently talked to Jacob more than once; I didn’t even know he could talk,” Hudson says rolling her eyes, “all he ever does at anyone outside the church is glare.” 

“She’s talked to Faith a lot too, apparently.” 

“I still don’t even know where she fucking came from.” 

“I’m still not fully convinced she isn’t a ghost,” Pratt tells Hudson. 

“She’s not a ghost,” Dahlia says with a roll of her eyes. 

“And you would know, because they cling to you like leeches, right?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know what I think it is,” Hudson says after a moment, “you put up with Joseph’s creepy ass speeches and they realized you’d put up with anything.” 

“He’s not….that…creepy…” Dahlia says with zero conviction, because, well. He’s definitely off, but despite all the weird little red flags, he did help her and Cassie. So, he can’t be all bad. Even if his brother is taking people’s shit…and well…she still doesn’t know what the hell was up with the shaved head person. 

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.” 

“Look, we’ve had run ins with him before, he’s the weirdest creepiest person in this whole damn county and that is saying something,” Hudson shudders, “I’d take Zip lecturing me on being a government shill for nine hours over Joseph even looking at me for even a second.” 

“His stare is weirdly intense…” 

“All of them are weird; John’s skeevy, Jacob looks like he skins people alive in his spare time…Faith’s kinda cute, but at what cost,” Pratt tells her and eh, Faith’s not really her type. The Church Mouse is pretty, but a bit too delicate for the young deputy to really get those weird stomach feelings she gets around women like Hudson or Mary May. 

“Really, I didn’t think you liked women who are taller than you?” Hudson asks. 

“Faith is like barely taller than me,” Dahlia says with a snort, watching the pure look of offense on Pratt’s face, how could she be taller than Pratt? 

“How short do you think I am, Joey?’ 

“What?” Hudson raises an eyebrow, confused by their confusion, “ heard she was like six foot something with black hair.” 

“She’s like this tall,” Pratt puts his hand maybe two inches above Dahlia’s head, “and blonde.” 

“Kinda blonde,” Dahlia corrects, thinking of the youngest Seed siblings dirty blonde hair that fades to a slightly light color at the ends. It toes the line between brown and blonde fairly well. 

“Whatever.” 

“Someone told me she was taller than John, I know they did, am I losing my mind?” Hudson tries to think for a moment; gears visibly turning behind her green eyes. 

“Did you ever really have it?” Pratt taunts her. 

“Keep it up, asshole, see what fuckin’ happens.” 

The trio makes it down to where the sheriff asked, a parking place within the northern area of the county with little gas pumps but not much else. The F.A.N.G Center employees and the veterinarian with a stethoscope around his neck waiting for them as they make their way over. A worker with the center helps get the stiffening wolf off of Dahlia’s back, putting it into the back of a van so they can take it to be examined. 

“Good work, Deputies,” Whitehorse congratulates them and Dahlia grins at the praise. 

“To be completely fair,” Hudson interjects, “it was Rook who was able to get him.” 

“Hey, we helped…move the body…” Pratt jokes, in their own ways they’re both ensuring Dahlia gets her due credit and she can’t help but smile. 

“Well, outstanding work, Rookie.” 

“Thanks, but uh, I’m kind worried about something.” 

“What’s that?’ The sheriff asks, the attention of him, the veterinarian, and center workers all falling on Dahlia. 

“The wolf has paint on it’s face, like a cross or something…which kinda makes me think someone owned it or…something?’ 

“Yeah, that’s definitely not all blood.” A worker looking over the wolf’s face in the van confirms. 

“There’s nothing else on it, but we definitely will have to keep that in mind.” 

“But, uh, what happens from here?” Dahlia asks. 

“I’ll test to see if it’s rabid or if anything else might be the cause for the aggression,” the veterinarian, his name tag she finally catches says Dr. Charles Lindsay, “I’ll let the hospital know and if needed, the hiker will get treated for rabies.” 

“Ah, uhh, is there any possible way you could let us know at the same time…well let me know…?” 

“Why…?” 

“I may have been slightly bit.” 

“Slightly?” Pratt is the one to yell out, incredulous at Dahlia’s description of her injury. 

“Just a little bit,” She brings two fingers close together in front of her for added effect. 

“Jesus fuck, can you just not get hurt for like a week?” 

“No, clearly not.” 

“Pratt, take her out to the clinic,” Whitehorse says with a heavy sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t need a doctor.” 

“Yes, you do. Even if the bite ain’t too bad, you never know if it’s infected. Not only could the wolf be carrying something, but it had someone else’s blood in it’s mouth. This isn’t optional, Rookie, you’re going to the clinic and that’s an order.” 

Dahlia can’t and won’t argue with the sheriff on that. Instead shrinking slightly at the realization that her own disregard for her own safety has gotten her scolded despite her accomplishment. She doesn’t think about risks to herself; she needed the wolf put down to save others and if the worst case scenario is her own well-being being sacrificed, that’s worth it to help others, isn’t it?

“C’mon, Wolf-Bait lets get going,” Pratt says, giving her a light smack on the shoulder to follow him. 

“I’m coming, asshole.” 

She follows behind Pratt, back to the cruiser where they parked at the beginning of this day. The sun has long since set, the moon now bright and high in the sky as she climbs into the passenger side seat. Unable to stop herself from pouting slightly that she’s being forced to go to the clinic again. Even if she understands why. 

“Hey,” Pratt gets her attention as he starts up the cruiser engine, “if it makes you feel any better. I’ll be happy to put you out of your misery if it turns out to be a werewolf.” 

“Fuck you!” She yells out through a laugh; his dumb joke bringing a smile back to her face as they go off to the clinic. 

She’s at the clinic late that night, her injury doesn’t need stitches just some bandaging, some bloodwork and tests done to account for anything that could be wrong. Then she’s sent home with antibiotics; the entire time Pratt making jokes about werewolves and silver bullets like a nerd.  All that’s left is crashing for the night and eventually hearing if she has rabies. 

Dahlia sleeps easily that night; thanks to her adrenaline crashing down. She sleeps in the night morning, Saturday never being such a blissful treat for her as she manages to not wake up until around noon. 

The young deputy takes her time when she gets up, eating cereal and grabbing a shower. Faith mentioned her being able to see Cassie at the convent this weekend spending a day together, so that’s her plan on top of doing the rounds on roping folks into the Apple Festival. 

The Convent isn’t far from the trailer park, two buildings seated before the edge of a cliff with craggy staggered mountain range covered in trees beside it.  So many mountains and cliffs within the county. The larger of the buildings has dark roofing, a smaller white church with white latticing canopies between them. Like the material used to construct a gazebo and fields upon fields of the white moonflowers. 

Before Dahlia can step too far onto the property, a woman with long baby blonde hair with flower tattoos spiraling up her arms and the sin of GREED across her chest runs up to stop her. 

“Hello, is there something I can help you with?” 

“Yeah, I was here to see Cassie.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but our sister Cassandra is busy today.” 

“Sister?” Dahlia asks, blood running cold for a moment. She can’t seriously mean…Cassie wasn’t interested in joining, she just needed shelter.

“Well yes, she’s opened her heart to the Father, a child of Eden’s Gate now.” 

“Interesting…” Dahlia clenches her jaw, “Faith said that I could come see her today.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not possible, she’s been busy with finding salvation. She’s with herald John, giving her confession, she can’t possibly be bothered right now.” 

“I-”

“Deputy~!” Faith’s sing song voice rings out and Dahlia can’t help but still feel angry, they were supposed to help Cassie, not convert her. The youngest Seed sibling rushes over, nearly floating with the ethereal energy only she can manage. Her white floral dress of the day has a halter neckline and flowers are woven into her braided hair. 

“Faith…” 

“I’m so sorry; I heard, I know you were excited to spend time with me and Cassie today, but I’m afraid things just became too busy with her deciding to join us here.” 

“Yeah…what the fuck?” 

“Excuse me?” Faith says, her pretty little smile fading for a moment. 

“Cassie needed shelter, not Jesus, so I reiterate…what the fuck?” Dahlia gestures wildly, anger tinging her words. Her blood pressure rising and heat crawling up under her skin like pins and needles. 

“Cassie is an adult, she made a choice to join us. Surely, you can’t deny her that freedom, deputy?” Faith’s face pulls into a pout, making Dahlia feel unreasonable all at once, but Cassie was never interested in the religion aspect. 

“Yes, she’s an adult, but she was vulnerable, and I don’t think leaping into a religion when you’re in a shitty place is the best move. I-I wanna talk to her myself.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that can’t happen, not today. But, maybe next weekend or you could write a letter of course.” 

“She still hasn’t responded to my last letter…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Faith puts a hand on Dahlia’s shoulder, meant to be comforting but the deputy flinches away, “as I said, it’s been impossibly busy, she’s been studying our beliefs and methods of joining. It’s a long process at times, very time consuming, but I assure you…Cassie opening her heart to the Father doesn’t mean it’s been closed to you.” 

“Yeah, sure, just too busy.” 

“Well, you’ve certainly been busy too, haven’t you?” She tilts her head delicately to the side, still smiling. 

“I have?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow. 

“Mmm hmm, John’s already learned of you helping put together an apple festival.” 

“Oh, yeah, Debbie and Doug wanna save that place so why not, I figure.” 

“Yes, we’ve been hearing all about it, John’s not exactly thrilled.” 

“Nothing personal to it…” 

“I figured, I’m not upset, I promise,” Faith offers a soft smile, “the orchard will end up in the rightful hands no matter what. John just worries a lot about getting land for our church, after all we’re growing by the day and need space for our people.” 

“And Debbie and Doug worry a lot about keeping their livelihood, ya know?” 

“Like, I said, I have no ill will over it, I’m just interested to see you’re so full of surprises.” 

“I am?” 

“Mmm hmm,” she giggles, but offers no more information, like she knows a secret that Dahlia doesn’t. But before Dahlia can ask another question, a sight among the convent makes her breath catch in her throat. 

Shaved head men and women; tending to fields of those flowers, masks across their face. So, they’re definitely with Eden’s Gate as if she really had to question. They work silently, tending to the fields of moonflowers in their white sweaters. 

“Who are they?” Dahlia asks, giving Faith a pointed look. The girl’s eyes move back and forth from the deputy to the workers. 

“Oh, those are our angels,” she answers, grinning, ���they’re high ranking members of our church, so devoted to The Father they’ve taken vows of silence and dedicate their lives to helping The Project. Amazing, aren’t they?” 

“Vows of silence, huh?” Dahlia says, more to herself than Faith. Then why did they mumble lyrics and scream out…why would they attack Dahlia? Is Faith lying to her, she’s got to be, right?

“You know, deputy, if you’re so interested in The Project, The Father would still happily let you join our family.” 

“Hmmm, I’m sure, didn’t realize there was a huge process to it though…” Dahlia comments, hoping Faith will elaborate, what the hell kind of hoops did Cassie jump through? Confession, is all she really knows. 

“Well, “ Faith grabs both of Dahlia’s hands in her own, smiling, “we ask for our new family members to prove they see the truth of our faith, to prove their dedication, rid themselves of their sins and make sacrifices in order to truly cut their ties with sin.” 

“That’s-“ 

“Faith, there’s a call from the conservatory!” Someone calls out and Dahlia’s words die on her lips; the notion that Faith’s description is vague and generally unhelpful. 

“I’ll be right there, see you later deputy, hopefully we can meet with Cassie next weekend.” Faith waves her goodbye and then leaves. 

Stray straightens her jacket before leaving the convent, a flood of unanswered questions and doubts in her mind. Everyday something new worries her about Eden’s Gate. If Faith’s lying…that’s fucking bullshit. She doesn’t want to imagine that Faith would lie to her face like that. But, why would their oh so special angels, even the name makes her roll her eyes, be screaming and murmuring despite vows of silences? Why would they attack her?

The rest of her Saturday is spent speaking to people about the Apple Festival, roping Chad from the Grill Steak into it. At least, she believes she did, she’s not completely sure of anything he says. His dialect unintelligible, so she just upped her cajun dialect until she barely knew what she was saying either. Its good busy work, getting places to hang up advertisements, though her heart and mind are somewhere else the entire time. She’s thankful that most people are just genuinely invested in helping; because she certainly isn’t getting by on her charisma. 

Her night is spent with trying to distract herself, but thoughts always coming back to the weirdness of Eden’s Gate, to her doubts. Wondering what exactly led to Cassie’s conversion… She’s being silly, she tells herself time and time again, but something just doesn’t feel right lately. Maybe she’s overeating; seeing connections and red flags where none exists. But, the case remains that no tv, manga, music, or drawing can distract her that night. 

There’s still a slight cloud looming over Dahlia when she arrives at the orchard Sunday, ready to taste Debbie’s baked apple goods. The sun is high in sky and the smell of apples lifts her mood slightly; but she finds herself still distracted as she parks her bike. 

“Deputy!” Debbie greets her and Dahlia gives the warmest smile she can muster. The older woman’s smile helping lift some of that cloud. 

“Hey.” 

“Staci’s already here, c’mon, we’ll sit in the market stall,” Debbie gushes bring Dahlia over to the picnic tables that are under the covering; where they first talked about the festival. 

Pratt is already there; the smell of baked sugar and apples hits Dahlia’s nose before she even sees the array of food Debbie’s put out. Apple pie, apple dumplings, apple scones, and she’s sure that’s just the beginning. 

“Hey dumbass,” Pratt greets her around a mouthful of apple pie as she sits down next to him. 

“You couldn’t wait like five minutes?” 

“Nope.” 

“Ass.” 

The deputy’s feedback is predominantly noises of happiness; neither really food critics but happy to be shoving it in their mouths. The gloomy cloud is starting to lift by the time they’ve finished off a pie; cinnamon, sugar, and apples warm on her tongue. Apple dumplings settle warm in her stomach and she forgets why she was ever upset. The scones are munched down next; cream sticking to her fingers and lips as she eats. 

“God you’re a mess,” Pratt taunts and she sputters a laugh when she turns to face him. 

“You have food in your beard, asshole.” 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath and starts wiping at his face. 

The stuff their faces for a long while longer; strudel, apple cake, apple cobbler, candy apples, and fritters. Pratt leans back from the table, pressing a hand to his face after a while. 

“You alright?” Dahlia asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“Debbie is gonna have to roll me out of here at this rate; are you not fuckin’ full yet?” 

“…No…” She pauses, before shoving more cobbler and whip cream in her mouth. Debbie and Dough are off rushing to get more goodies. 

“Jesus fuck, Rook.” 

“You’re just a baby.” 

“Shut up,” he leans back away from the table and runs a hand back into his hair, “hey, Rook?” 

“Hmm?”

“You ever gonna shoot your shot with Joey?” 

“What?!” She chokes on her food, just barely stopping it from flying out of her mouth, where the actual fuck did that come from? 

“Your little crush on her, you ever gonna do something about it?” 

“Like what?” 

“Ask her out, you know, like people do.” 

“Yeah…why the fuck would I do that?” She cannot grasp his logic here. 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that when people have crushes; they ask the person out.” 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that that would be really fucking stupid.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I already know the answer, there’s no way she’d say yes, and frankly if she did I’d be concerned.”

“Concerned?” 

“Yeah, who in their right fuckin’ mind would say yes to me?!” 

“So, you wanna act weird around her forever and never deal with it?” 

“That was the plan.” 

“I’m just saying the sooner you rip the band-aid off, the quicker you can act like a normal person around her.” 

Dahlia sighs, she doesn’t want to act like a freak around Hudson for the rest of her life or for her little crush or whatever to get the way of life. Pratt knows more about this crap than her, because everyone does. So, if he’s saying this would help, maybe it would? But, her brain still is struggling. 

“But I already know she’s gonna say no, you know she’s gonna say no, literally anyone with a functioning braincell knows she’d say no. So, why would hearing her say no make a difference?” 

“Its like closure and shit; I think it’d help.” 

“Ugh, just sounds like an excuse to make an idiot out of myself.” 

“Compared to the genius you usually are?” 

“Fuck off.” 

She swallows down a mouthful of strudel before the conversation can continue, but Pratt’s words stick with her. It’s not as if she needed any more on her mind, but she got it anyway. The two continue taste testing for Debbie, though the subject of Hudson never comes up. She’s not sure why Pratt is suddenly so keen on helping her work through her little crush, a friendly gesture, she figures. Maybe her life would be a little easier if she could stop turning into a red-faced mess around the oldest deputy. 

It’s late when they finally finish tasting everything; Dahlia giving friendly goodbyes to Pratt and the couple before she goes back home. Her weekend coming to a close with her falling asleep with a stomach full of baked apples. 

She’s woken up to her phone ringing; instead of her alarm. Dahlia already knows well that despite shift hours, the nature of their work and the higher level of being deputy means that being called out at odd hours is expected. But her blood runs cold when she sees sheriff Whitehorse is the one calling, something is wrong. 

“Sheriff?” She answers, sitting up on the couch. 

“Rook; I already called Pratt and Hudson, I want you all at the clinic now! It’s an emergency!” 

And that’s all she gets before the call ends. She throws on a uniform and runs out the door, jumping on her motorcycle. Mind racing with each passing second. The hurried and frantic tone in Whitehorse’s voice flaring anxiety inside of her. A million possibilities shooting through her mind as she rides towards the clinic; is it about the wolf? Has there been a murder? Is someone she knows hurt? Could it be an officer? 

She’s practically tripping over herself as she climbs off her bike, running into the clinic. The staff is a mess, nurses rushing frantically to attend to someone. Words of transferring, stabilizing, blood transfusion. Something is wrong. Each word swims around her head, but she doesn’t know who they’re talking about. Then she sees Whitehorse, Hudson, and Pratt at the front desk. The three living closer than her. 

“What’s wrong?” Dahlia asks running over; all three’s expressions are tense. Pratt shaking his leg, Hudson digging her nails into her arms until her knuckles turn white, and Whitehorse looking a moment away from collapsing. 

“It’s Pastor Jerome,” Whitehorse tells her, “someone attacked him.” 

“Left for fucking dead,” Hudson interjects, a crack in her voice that Dahlia’s never heard before. 

“They’re trying to stabilize him long enough to transfer him to a hospital in Missoula. We need to make sure it stays secure, no telling if whoever did this won’t try to do something again, and we need to be there to ask questions once he’s out of the woods. I don’t want this slipping through the cracks, Jerome’s a good man and he damn well deserves our best effort.” 

“Got it,” Dahlia nods in agreement to the sheriffs words.

Images of the man in the priest collar coming to mind. She’s seen him in passing, never a conversation between the two. But she saw him speak with Whitehorse; Pratt implied that both him and Hudson went to Jerome’s church as kids. He means something to them all and that’s clear in just how serious it’s being taken; obvious in how shaken up they all seem to be. 

She stands next to Pratt, squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort, wishing she could offer more. He tries to give her a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, too worried about the pastor. 

Why would anyone attack him? His church is modest, nearly dying out from everything she’s been told, it wouldn’t make sense to rob him. Hope County has some less than accepting residents; but the idea of a potential hate crime is a hard pill to swallow…

All Dahlia can do is wait with her coworkers, listening to the frantic yells of nurses struggling to save a man’s life. Heart in her throat, anxiety telling her that any second this will become a murder investigation as she watches the hands on a clock ticking away…

[mikeperrucci]

20 Years of Mazeguy Smilies, 35 Years of Pixel Art

It's been twenty years since I first shared my smilies with the world! To celebrate the occasion, I made this collage:

Coincidentally, this year also means I've been making pixel art for about 35 years. I've written an article about my journey which you can read here, but I'll recap a few highlights:

1986: Dazzle Draw

The reason Mazeguy Smilies exists is probably due to Dazzle Draw, a painting program released by Broderbund Software in 1985. My family had an Apple IIe computer at the time, and I believe we bought Dazzle Draw the following year. I was eight years old at the time.

Back in those days, I didn't have a Wacom tablet, and drawing freehand was difficult. I figured out that the best way to create the curved lines and details I wanted was to zoom in and draw one dot at a time. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was learning the basics of what would later be called "pixel art". Today, I create smilies using the exact same technique.

My siblings and I had a lot of fun with Dazzle Draw, filling fifteen floppy disks (the ones that actually WERE floppy) with over 100 paintings. Unfortunately, only one has survived to this day. This portrait of Bowser was converted to black and white, and printed in my junior high school's newspaper.

1992: Mario Paint

My next drawing program was Mario Paint for the Super Nintendo. I loved the fact that you could combine art, animation and music to create multimedia. I still have my copy of Nintendo's Official Mario Paint Player's Guide, even though it's quite worn out from reproducing video game sprites and songs.

Mario Paint included several "stamps", small pictures you that could paste onto the canvas or use as a paintbrush. A Stamp Editor tool let you edit existing stamps or design new ones on a large, 16x16 grid. Sound familiar? Thanks to Mario Paint, my pixel art skills were refined a little further.

So, what kind of videos did I make using Mario Paint? Well... Um... Stuff like this...

1994: Game-Maker

Game-Maker was developed by Recreational Software Designs. It's a collection of design tools that allows users to create their own DOS games. To test out the software, I made a simple game in which a guy tries to get through a maze. Yes, this is where "mazeguy" came from. Somehow, it became my nickname, then the name of my website.

Mazeguy grew in complexity, and eventually morphed into Invasion of the Blobs, which later got a sequel. Both games required drawing and animating backgrounds, enemies, and heroes. Title cards, level intros, and cutscenes were also illustrated pixel by pixel.

2001: Flash Kit and Tripod

At the beginning of the new millennium, I started using Flash for the first time. I needed help learning how accomplish certain tasks, and discovered many helpful tutorials at FlashKit.com. I joined the forums, and found a thread titled "Smiley Award Winners". A user named ThundaChunk, a.k.a. JohnnySix, was awarding a small banner to the best smilies submitted in an earlier thread.

It was too late for me to participate, but after fifteen years of creating pixel art, the idea of making smilies intrigued me. I made a whole bunch and put them on my Tripod website. While I was having fun seeing how many emoticons I could come up with, I was also secretly hoping that another smiley contest would be held in the future, and I'd get my own Smiley Award.

Then, on March 29th, 2001, The all new FK members smiley thread appeared. I quickly posted a link to my collection. And so, after a little prodding, I got my Smiley Award.

Over the next two years, my website would get more traffic, and suggestions from visitors helped make my smiley collection grow. Both of these factors caused the site to routinely go over Tripod's bandwidth limit. My free web hosting service was no longer sufficient, so I registered Mazeguy.net on October 25th, 2003.

2005: Hoagie's Revenge

My brother and some of his friends formed a film group, and they needed an animator for one of their short films. It's about a man challenged by his roommate to complete a brutally difficult video game. My job was to build an original Nintendo game that is so unfair, so impossible to beat, that the programmers didn't even bother creating a second level.

You can read more about Hoagie's Revenge, the game within the movie, as well as complete sprite sheets here.

2013: Wordlock

Fifteen years after completing Invasion of the Blobs 2, I revistited Game-Maker and made a puzzle game containing 100 riddles. The graphics weren't particularly complex, but I think the sci-fi font I designed was pretty neat.

You can learn more about Wordlock and how to play it here.

2021: What's Next?

The introduction of emoji have pretty much made smilies obsolete. One avenue that might be worth pursuing is Twitch Emotes, but I've kind of moved away from creating pixel icons.

These days I spend most of my time working on my webcomic, Chuck's Devils. Sometimes I depict the main characters in pixel form, as seen here:

While the series is nowhere near as popular as my smilies were, or even my domino toppling videos (which is a story for another day), I like the process of creating wacky misadventures for Candace, Yu-Ri, and Lily. I hope you'll check out the comic and follow along. :)

[anxiouslyfred]

Reflections in Rooms

Summary: Roman and Remus are both aware that their rooms aren't exactly what people expect from them if anyone visits. When Patton visits his reaction to mistaking Remus's room for Roman's was something neither of them could have predicted. 

Authors Note: I wanted to write something last week and began this with no clue where it was going. Today I finished it and still have no clue where it was going for the entire story. Sorry if it’s bewildering at all. I’m just playing.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

If you live in a room for long enough it becomes a reflection of you in a way people very often won’t understand.

Both Roman and Remus realised this as almost every time a friend came over they’d assume the wrong room was theirs.

Janus visiting was the first time they recognised why it happened. Their remark upon being corrected had been “But you’re so chaotic and have no regard for anything being organised. How on earth can this be your room, Remus?”

Roman was not sticking around to hear the lecture over how organised any important movements were nor how the things Remus hated and rebelled against were conformity and that was never synonymous with organisation. He already had the lecture memorised in case there was ever an instant of a their friends calling while they were out.

“This isn’t quite what I’d expect by a Princes bedroom, Roman. Have you seriously been hiding all the interesting things you love for all this time?” Virgil groused, when he first visited. They’d become friends through a creative writing club and had planned to work on a story together that evening. “Seriously we could have been rocking out together to these bands and you cannot say that you didn’t think I’d like them. Just look at me!”

At least Virgil’s confusion was different to the reactions Roman had gotten before. A few of his friends had gotten very worried over how low some of the snippets left on his desk suggested his self esteem was.

The reaction both brothers were stunned to witness was Patton’s when he first followed Roman home. They’d gotten talking near the end of the work day and it just felt right to invite him over to carry on chatting together and perhaps share some of the creations that he hadn’t shared with the team at work.

Roman had gone to make drinks, giving Patton directions to his room upstairs while he did so when he heard the yell. “Roman your friend isn’t letting me go! What on earth do I do?”

“Let him hug you and then direct him to my room, maybe?” He called back, raising an eyebrow at that reaction. Sure, Patton usually liked to hug everyone in greeting but refusing to let go of Remus was the opposite of how people usually reacted given the unfortunate scent that surrounded him.

“Still not going to free him. This is my new best friend now. He likes kittens!” Patton yelled back before one of his apologetic sounds could be heard, presumably as Remus corrected him to the pronouns for the day.

Once the drinks were finished Roman was finally able to find out what his friend meant. His sibling usually focused on oceanic creatures rather than anything on land so something must have changed.

“I'm drawing catfish, not kittens or cats or anything like that. What's your name anyway?” Remus was explaining, although the picture did currently only have a cats face on it. Patton was hanging off her back, only just letting Roman see the lilac choker that clarified her pronouns.

Entering the room Roman snickered a little, already knowing that from how Patton spoke some of Remus's drawings would probably cause concern. “He's Patton. What's it going to look like when you add the body and colour?”

“It's gonna have mangled limbs of twisted together legs and fins, and a scattered red and yellow mottled pattern mixing fur and scales all over its body. I need to make the eyes bigger though... or smaller, fish have small eyes right?” Remus described already turning to search images of fish so she could decide what size the eyes should be, clearly having decided to ignore Patton hanging onto her.

“Nooo.” Patton whined, reaching clearly with the intent to take the sketch and protect it from Remus's plans. “Pretty kitten.”

Remus still nodded, pushing the drawing out of reach and pulling a folder from beside her desk up. “Yep, it'll be a beautiful kitten, just like these ones.” She insisted, show casing her variety of finished artwork to Patton cheerfully ignoring any upset noises.

Roman was only just close enough to see the pages being turned, but had already seen his sisters art after it was completed enough to know the pages. At the start it would be trips into uncanny valley, all the things Remus saw in robotic attempts to recreate humans or poor game and film CGI designs of people sketched out again as she tried to work out what was so off about them. Then the pages would turn to gore, murder scenes they'd heard described in various books and news broadcasts that she wanted to imagine more vividly. Those ones had Patton almost crying and rushing Remus to move past them without giving any sources or descriptions of her thought process.

After the gore Remus had pages of just normal ocean life as she had wanted to perfect how light works under water before allowing herself more creative attempts. It was her latest project and she'd only moved onto creating her own designs of underwater animals in the last few months.

That was where Roman decided to interrupt again, “So have I lost my friend to you for the evening? I can head back to my room now, if so.”

“Don't be jealous cause I'm more interesting than a Disney fan, Prince Pukey.” Remus immediately countered, raising an eyebrow as she turned. “But you're more than welcome to take your friend back anytime if he'll let go of me.”

“Your friend too, Remus. You are my new kiddo and I need to see everything you've been creating. I love the sharks. They look like puppies, not as terrifying as the movies make them.” Patton tightened his grip, still hugging or clinging to Remus as though she'd run if he let go.

The siblings blink for a moment, Roman stunned that this guy from work essentially has declared Remus as a friend after knowing him an hour and Remus because this guy just walked into her room, seems aghast at any pictures of injuries, war or fighting but has basically just adopted her too. “Where on earth did you find this maniac, Ro, and are there any other I need to prepare to be adopted by?” Remus asks after a moment, folder forgotten in her hands.

“Work. Logan is my main other friend there and they aren't really the adopting type. They will probably criticise any creation scientifically though so I'm trying to avoid inviting him home.” Roman muttered, still taking in what had happened. “Padre, you have literally yelled for hours over anyone suggesting something close to the things Remus has been showing you when we're at work, what...?”

“We make shows for Kids, Roman! That's not an appropriate place for this type of stuff, but there's nothing wrong in Remus exploring such dark subjects as long as she let's people walk away if it gets to be too much.” Patton scolded lightly, grinning as soon as Roman shrugged in response, letting the explanation be left at that.

Patton never did get to see Roman's room on his first visit to their home, but he did make a new friend that he might never have met otherwise.

[abyssmail]

Caerul Design Notes,

because I’ve actually put a lot of thought into creating Caerul’s aesthetic and I’m lowkey really proud of it.  I won’t get into her actual character concept/personality/backstory/etc. since this got super long, but this is how/why I made the choices I did with regards to her name and visual design!

▶ Caerul’s color scheme started off way bluer (hence the name “Caerul,” from caeruleus/a/um - “blue”/“cerulean”/“azure”/“of the sky/sea” in Latin) and less saturated, but when I gave her a (dead) twin with a red theme, I wanted them to look more alike and made both of their hair purple (although I haven’t actually done more than sketch Roseus before... he’s got purple hair and red eyes).  Purple’s my favorite color, and unnatural hair colors don’t seem to be uncommon in Orth, so why not, right?   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   The red elements in Caerul’s design are meant to represent her honoring Roseus!

All of the base colors I use when drawing Caerul! They all end up looking a bit darker once they’re shaded though.

▶ As well as shamelessly using one of my favorite Latin words (I’m a Classics major, okay ;;>~>), I also tried to pick a name that sounded similar to the ones that already exist in-universe.  This was actually fairly tricky, since as far as I can tell the names in Made in Abyss have a WIDE variety of influences.  Some of them seem passably Japanese-sounding (Riko, Jiruo, Kiyui, Nanachi) disclaimer I bring dishonor to my ancestors and know 0 Japanese so this is just about vibez, others seem Western-ish (Reg, Nat, Lyza, Prushka).  Some are fairly whimsical (Shiggy, Maruruk, Mitty) while others are more mysterious and fantastic (Any of the White Whistles besides maybe Lyza).  The only common thread I could really settle on was a general fantasy feeling to all of the names.  I tried to capture that nebulous vibe with Caerul’s name, although with something so vague and subjective it’s pretty much impossible to say if I was entirely successful.  I named her siblings afterward with other Latin color words and ended up with a RGB theme lol.

▸ By the way, “Caerul” is pronounced “KAI-rool.”  It rhymes with “Hyrule.”  The ae diphthong makes an “eye” sound in Latin #TheMoreYouKnow

▸ “Caducalae” is a portmanteau of “caducae alae,” literally “falling/doomed/futile wings” in Latin (again), playing off how pointless it is to be able to fly when the Curse of the Abyss is a thing.  Originally, they weren’t supposed to work at all outside of the Abyss, but I decided that was boring for crossovers/other verses so I scrapped it.  I’m not too happy with the name since it doesn’t fit the naming scheme of the canon relics (there is no precedent at all for gratuitous Latin in Made in Abyss, which is a good thing because it’s overused in fantasy, but Latin was the only thing I was good at in high school sooooo... ^^;), but I didn’t like any of my other ideas that much, either.  “Wings of Futility” feels more canon, but it’s also kinda depressing :/

▶ I’ve mentioned before that Caerul’s build is based off of mine for art reference purposes (it’s convenient to just look in the mirror while making the pose I want =w=)b), but another reason she’s so short is that I didn’t have to make the caducalae quite as big since she’s smaller, so she can actually go indoors if she’s careful.

▶ Long hair isn’t super practical with mechanical wings with lots of bits for it to get caught in, but Caerul idolizes Lyza, so I left her hair as long as I could reasonably get away with.

▶ I heavily referenced the canon Made in Abyss character designs for Caerul’s clothing so she would fit into the world, but made some alterations to make everything more personal to her and accommodate for her wings.  In general, I lightened everything up, since she takes a bunch of short, quick trips rather than lengthy expeditions.  Her gloves, for instance, are loosely inspired by the ones we see many delvers wearing in the manga/anime, but are less heavy-duty and are convertible mittens/fingerless gloves for better dexterity with handling letters and such.  

The best close up of the gloves I could find was actually a screenshot of the aftermath Reg & Riko’s orb piercer encounter, but I didn’t want to have to tag this for gore, so you get Lyza ^^; There’s a filter over Caerul here so you can see the glove better which is why she looks kinda washed out :/

▶ Her coat is heavily influenced by Jiruo’s, since he’s the only Moon Whistle we’ve seen in canon.  

yeah, uhhhh, sorry to yoink your style my dude ^^;

▸ Caerul’s has a different color palette, a simpler lapel border, an extra set of outer pockets, and three separate panels in the back that button around her wings so she can put it on! I haven’t drawn it, but her shirt works similarly.  

This is my favorite detail about her design tbh... it’s just really satisfying what a logical solution it is for some reason???  the original doodle is off rotting somewhere in my Modern European History notes, but I tried to recreate it just as sloppily here =w=)b

▶ Caerul’s corset isn’t just a painful fashion choice - it’s actually meant to be a(n admittedly heavily stylized) brace for her back against the weight of her wings.  

▶ Since Caerul can’t wear a backpack with the wings, I had to get creative with storage options for her.  In addition to an undetermined number of pockets on the inside of her coat, I gave her these two pouches on her thighs to carry more stuff.  

I wonder how buff your quads could get carrying a significant amount of weight there...

▸ Messenger bags don’t seem super practical for delving, so I didn’t design a specific one for her to carry all the time, but Caerul does use them on occasion.  Even with that, though, she still has far less carrying capacity than the average delver, which is a problem she has to deal with when carrying out her duties!

▶ The wings/caducalae were by far the most difficult part of designing Caerul, and it took several redesigns over 2+ years before I was finally happy with them.  Their first design was deliberately far simpler in the interest of having to draw them a zillion times, but they ended up clunky and unwieldy looking: 

chonky o~O

▸ The final design is MUCH more of a pain to draw (in fact, a lot of the time I cheat and just copy and paste them from drawings I’ve already done), but I think it looks much sleeker and more “functional”.  

I also got better at making my diagrams look slightly more authentic ;0

▸ I knew I wanted jetpack-style thrusters to be a component of the wings to somewhat justify the shit I wanted Caerul to be able to pull with them (especially to eliminate the need for accounting for the damage landing suddenly could do to her ankles), but incorporating them proved to be one of the biggest problems of the design.  At one point, they were going to have a whole separate attachment point on her back, but I finally just made them an offshoot of the first “joint,” as you can see in the final design.  

A really messy intermediate caducalae sketch.  The weird double pentagon shape was meant to be the part of the relic actually fused to Caerul’s back, but I scrapped that too when I scrapped the separate limbs for the thrusters.

▸ Speaking of the joints, they’re all balls so they can rotate all over and I don’t have to fuss too much about how they move.  Likewise, the frame is metal, but I treat it like it’s kind of flexible, so Caerul can “flex” the wings open and closed.  These wings are hard enough to draw period okay I’m giving myself every excuse to be inconsistent af on purpose.

▸ The caducalae have some “bonus” features that I’ve sketched out, but that Caerul hasn’t unlocked yet, and won’t for a while.  

owo what’s this?

▸ For the wings, I think my biggest inspirations were some of the mechier Cardfight!! Vanguard dragon units (although I don’t remember which cards specifically) and the energy wings on the ninth-generation knightmares in Code Geass R2.

I’ve made a lot of OCs, and since I don’t like to use faceclaims, I’ve done a fair amount of character designing.  I don’t think I’ve ever spent as much time or had as much fun with any of them as I have with Caerul, though!  OCs aren’t always super well accepted in fandom roleplay, but the Made in Abyss community has been super welcoming and I’ve had a blast.  Thanks for listening to me gush about Caerul if you got this far, and thank you to everyone who’s interacted with her!  

The original sketch of Caerul from back in 2017.  How far we’ve come :’D