#Canon Faithful Concepts

[subway-boss-jericho]

:D!!! THE STICKERS ARRIVED!!

I still have to get an Etsy page set up- I have a couple of friends who have experience to help me out! And I also still have to tackle college for this last semester so time will probably escape me- but!!! THEY'RE HERE!!!! :D AAAAAA

Not the best pictures because the lighting here is a little wack but!! AAAAAAA THEY'RE REAL!!

I am not going to put a bajillion tags on this post because I don't wanna push any kind of promo or whatever until I have a shop properly set up, but !! I am, so excited. I can barely contain myself. These are the normal 4-inch stickers and I'm working on saving up for the holo 5-inch ones now :D I decided to get them printed matte, not sure if gloss would have been better, but I can probably do a mix of both when I reorder :> !!

[everlastiingiimmortals]

a while ago i had been talking with nine east and ray and had mistakenly said "canon defiant" instead of "canon deviant/divergent" and honestly i think that's a hilarious phrase that should be employed more. canon divergent for when you expand on or minorly adjust canon and canon defiant when you recognize that canon has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision, you've elected to ignore it

[skywalkr-nberrie]

https://x.com/nude_gunray/status/1917901160817791217?s=46

this tweet and its replies 😵‍💫 rots rerelease was a mistake

Yup, saw this already 😭 read the replies too and made me want to blow up someone.

I even replied to it on my twt priv, I’ll put the SS down below:

Lol, don’t mind me, cause I’m a little snarky on my priv at dumb takes like this 😜

Part of me loves that ROTS was rereleased for the people who didn’t get to watch it in theatres cause they were kids when it came out but the other part of me feels gatekeepy cause I know the dummies are confident enough to voice their stupid and incorrect opinions like this dude.

[godlygivenanxiety]

it's important to me that y'all know that in my head there's an AU where danny was part of the cult from the beginning and he's dressed all in white, matching faith. he doesn't personally care for keeping himself from getting dirty but he tries his best not to because joseph is super weird about it and will send him disappointed looks.

[alexxuun]

Ok, so I was thinking about a Trigun DnD AU and having some trouble deciding what class Wolfwood falls into?

He could be a cleric getting power from a “deity”(Eye of Michael) with a shakable faith, a paladin who involuntary got force into an oath bind from a Paladin Order (Eye of Michael), or a celestial warlock who formed a contract with a patron (again, Eye of Michael) to access their power. This all obviously can fit into his canon story pretty well so now I’m having trouble deciding.

[tuesdayscanons]

If I WERE to add Dale as a muse, these would be headcanons I'd implement:

Dale uses his gold teeth and boots to ground himself in reality, even if he doesn't consciously think about it as such. If his anxiety attacks got severe enough (or his other grounding methods magically disappeared somehow), he'd call out for Dev out of pure desperation. He wouldn't WANT his son to see him in that state, but when he's that anxious, his first priority would be to find SOME proof that he's not still a little boy in Lemonade Hell and Dev is definitive proof.

He also has abandonment issues he doesn't want to talk about. In his mind, he's not neglecting Dev because the Au-Pairs are always watching him.

Dale's messed up parenting comes from a lack of good examples (Vicky was awful and Doug probably was too if he let Vicky hold him hostage for seven years) and insecurity. He thinks that Dev would think he's "less cool" if he was vulnerable with him and "playing hard to get" would make Dev want to be around him more. What Dale doesn't get is that he's playing so hard to get that Dev might as well not have a dad.

I subscribe to the "Dev is a clone" theory (who would push a baby out and let someone name them DEVELOPMENT DIMMADOME). Dale probably made up stories about Dev's "mom" to make himself seem less like a lonely loser, but the stories are VERY inconsistent and he conveniently lost all photographic and video evidence of the mom in a fire that never happened.

Dale NEEDS those sales because of Trauma. Vicky was almost definitely physically abusive to him during Lemonade Hell and Doug was probably a hardass too. If he isn't constantly on top of his game, his life is going to fall apart and he'd be a failure.

Honestly, I feel like he overcompensates for what Doug did to him in general? Dale had to live in rags and lose his childhood to a lemonade scheme his father refused to save him from without magical intervention? Well, Dev gets to live in luxury and not have to lift a finger even if that means he never sees Dale because he's too busy trying to sustain their current level of opulence.

You can tell if Dale is having a rough mental health time if he doesn't slick his hair back. Curly Hair Dale is a Vulnerable Dale.

[journey-to-the-attic]

be cute if everytime satan needs to let off steam him n ik just have another fake massive blowout argument about the stupidest things

if lucifer pisses him off he just goes to ik's room and they pretend to yell at each other about whether or not a hot dog is a sandwich for half an hour and he feels better immediately after

sometimes satan will knock and ask hesitantly if ik would mind 'having a bit of a fight' - other times he walks in, says the stupidest sentence he can think of, and waits for ik to do the verbal equivalent of a tennis strike

at first the others get concerned about the shouting, but eventually they get used to it and just show up to listen in every now and then

(asmo starts calling these events their 'play-catfights' and satan likes it so much he starts using it as well)

[rainsoftenings]

i wish i liked romance more as a genre but finding one that doesnt feel spiritually grating somehow is so difficult to me and for what

[faithfulcat111]

Whose decision was it in the latest Stranger Things Puzzle Tales event to use different seasons versions of the Byers family? We got season 4 Will, season 3 Joyce, and season 2 Jonathan and Bob. It is hilarious and I love it.

[childofthestone]

which, when you consider that, actually completely disregards every worldstate in which zevran is killed upon meeting the warden. dead zevran means no going crazy on the crows later, so then that means there is no reason for nice crows anywhere, unless some other random freedom fighter rose up sometime and started wiping them out

me: i sure hope the crows are not gonna be solely depicted in veilguard as a brave force who 'fight for all' when they are at their core a criminal organization who is known to buy children to indoctrinate them and turn them into assassins, by putting them in overcrowded warehouses and making them fight for scrapes in order not to starve, to later torture those who reach adulthood to finish their initiations and kill them anyways if they dare to try getting out

bioware: i cooka da pizza

[subway-boss-jericho]

Fuck it. Silly post time

My doodles from my class notes this + last week. I have been struggling to draw my guys on model lately so you can see some of the Struggles. go ahead, look at em. i am so human but watch me go. Anyways, these are in order from oldest to most recent (the ones I did in class today.) Trying to figure out how i want to draw them again, because it seems I can never quite do it the same way twice. Mildly frustrating, but it does leave space for silly posts like this. I hope someone else finds as much amusement in offended tynamo as I do.

AUs include spirit keeper (I've forgotten how to draw??? his hair??? which is like his most identifying feature???? don't know where THAT muscle memory went but it is GONE) and also Steady Tracks Ingo (who I have Never figured out how to draw in the first place tbh). Also pictured: an intentionally rare little ingo appearance. Also noticed I've been drawing more canon-compliant doodles than I normally do, so that's neat! Top right image (the third one) is my INSANELY botched attempt at drawing the One Move twins. Literally turbo fucked that one. look at ingo's face. Unrecognizable. Will I stop using an ink pen? when I die maybe

Anyways. God be damned I am Having Fun. Wanted to offer you my doodles in the hopes they make someone else smile too today. Oh the train is just a train, I just figured you guys would like that one. Even though I'm struggling to keep my pen steady or my lines consistent, I am still very happy with several things here. The smoke on the train, and the two middle Emmets on the very last image in particular I really love

silly post complete. have a great timezone

[cuteniarose]

DO NOT talk to me about the new Avatar series, I have all the tags blocked and if you put untagged shit about it on my dash it is ON. SIGHT.

This is both a threat and a warning

[searchingforserendipity25]

like.

lawrence's thing about being clocked by the old pope as a manager and not a shepherd, about being taken as inoffensive and unambitious and politically-unmotivated by most anyone at the beginning of the conclave. is that.

okay, he's a manager, he's the backstage admin making sure the curia goes on, he's a paper pusher. but you can't convince me this guy didn't paper push a whole lot of insane papers.

you don't end up with a reputation for dogged integrity, easily forgotten influence and selfless reliability as the second most influential person in the vatican like that by being boring or normal. or at least boring in a normal way.

innocent xiv in his second first day of office being given the super secret cardinal cvs and nodding along to everything, with a few surprises. until he gets to t. lawrence, dean of the college. and it's just. this gigantic fold out of stapled documents that goes over his knees and keeps unrolling on the floor.

he's merely a manager, alright. it's just that he's been managing literally everything, step by step, all the way up the ladder.

this man could bring down the church in half an hour w a few phone calls. this man could bring down several establishments, and it is not entirely clear, reading between the lines, that he hasn't, indirectly, unveiled a number of scandals in his time.

and it's not that lawrence thinks of himself as a bona fide politician, as anyone influential. it's not that he seeks out power, exactly, that he hunts down corruption on purpose. he's not a detective; he's not a cynic.

it's just that he is competent. that's his calling, in a sense; it has been his calling, to be competent for god, in god's service.

he is very, very, very good at his job, which has, from what the paperwork relies, been that of middle-upper management everywhere he has ever been, from his catholic youth scouting group days, to his seminary years, to canon law teaching, to bishorship, and beyond.

his loss of faith is threatening enough, at the start of the movie, that he has come to a point where he wants to leave his work. he cannot do, without faith, because it is his faith. without prayer to guide him, how can he possible do it?

everything that happens during the conclave is like a nightmare build custom made for him. the culmination of a career built on the foundations of pretending to himself he is keeping well out any undue influence to correct procedure, while in fact determining what correct procedure should look like.

there is a difference, a fine difference, between making sure events and places and concepts as vague and complex as the bride of christ run smoothly; and then there is infighting, which is petty, and political, and not any of his business.

any accountability review process will simply have to wait, and ideally be someone else's responsibility. there's a time and there's a place, and lawrence has lived his life very much keeping to his own time and place.

this determination, as it happens, does not last very long. lawrence has live his life keeping to his time, and place, and that is, unfortunately for his peace of mind, wherever and whenever there is something wrong with the machinal workings of the responsibility in his charge.

the cognitive dissonance + all revealed secrets + the continued choice to take part in the world of politics is at last strong enough to unbalance his belief in his own mediocrity. which had, while being a decisive part of his sense of self, also been chocking him w resentment a bit.

turns out, he is as able of holding a desire as anyone else, just because he refuses to hold to an agenda beyond his obligations.

he is neither beneath nor above; being discreet about the power he holds does not make it any less real, or any less his responsibility to wield it openly to break tradition and make sure there is a structure. checks and balances. that what is rotten is not hidden beneath gilt, that the bride of christ is not cheated or lied to.

that the living principles they swear to are upheld in truth and not just in ideal, that the weaknesses of men in power are admitted. and that includes his own ambitions, his own hypocrisies and human frailties.

he is, after all, a manager. this work is what he is for.

it is possible he is dealing with this growing self-awareness received via exploding sistine chapel to the face with some grace. possible! perhaps not likely.

what is clear, to innocent, is that the church as it stands has been quietly, diligently, unassumingly managed over the decades into the shape of what thomas lawrence's church ought to be. in the image of his integrity, the mark his service leaves behind. no one has noticed; it is possible his predecessor made sure no one noticed.

the late holy father, it has to be said, was quite fond of his secret weapons hidden in plain sight.

a more suspicious man would think that the fact that he went underestimated for so long was part of a deliberate farce.

but no. he's not a great tactical genius, he's just like that. t. lawrence, there it is on paper. through the years, a whole bursting folder of different grains and colours of cheap office paper, a long scroll of good works, of work as faith, all the way to cardinal-dean of the college of cardinals. and now?

and now he's innocent's extremely competent manager to manage, and it is not entirely clear how well the curia might hold on, without him. possibly it might not.

no pressure tho. it's not like he's asked to retire before or anything.

his scouts group is recorded as having organized a fully-functioning food kitchen during his administration, btw. it's still open, and funded by the dean of the college of cardinals. if you even care. innocent cares so much.

[chow0w]

oh i just LOVE your style!!!! if you wouldn't mind, could you explain how you go about designing and what your artistic process is with dragons specifically?? I love your lady jewel design the most!!!!!!

Of course, and thank you so much! @aldershadows also asked this question, and I hope I can give you a comprehensive answer, and will be taking this oppurtunity to create a one-and-done design tutorial to answer any similar questions that may come up in the future.

Bear in mind that I'm not a professional, and I'm not looking to dissuade people from following traditional techniques or other advice. This is purely a discussion of MY process, and what I consider to be good/bad design technique.

Where to Start

There are six important conceptual 'principles' I like to consider when in the initial stages of (Re)designing a character: Story, Personality, Aesthetic, Interpretation, and canon/fanon appearance. Fully understanding these principals can help you understand a character, which will make both your life and design better.

Story: What is this character's actual story? What's their lore? Where do they start, and where do they end up - and most importantly, where does your design fit into that timeline? When I design characters, I try to be clear on exactly what part of their journey they are on. (Ex: blaze and the coat -> sandwing succession war)

Personality: This one is pretty easy - what is your character like, and how do they present themselves to the outside world? When you make a character and show them to the world, everything in the canvas is interpreted by the audience: even down to simple details like posture or background. Treat it like an opportunity to show off as much of your character's personality as you can.

Aesthetic: Aesthetic plays the most important role of all: it's job is to make sure your design is cohesive. It can be a common theme, pattern, color pallet or shape - as long as it reoccurs throughout a design, it's good. Use aesthetics to amplify the other principals, and figure out how to make it *look* nice as a secondary goal.

Interpretation: This one is specific to redesigns, but could also be applied to OCs - I like to consider my personal interpretation of a character: the media I see, the opinion I have... Multi-animator projects, other fanart pieces and personal quirks make up my interpretation of most WoF characters. You don't always need to incorporate your interpretation, but it's good to have in mind.

Canon/Fanon appearances: If you want to design and OC, ignore this. If you're redesigning an existing character, it's useful to consider how your audience views them - for example, most of us collectively agree on a few key design aspects of most characters. That doesn't mean you have to follow those conventions, but keep in mind that they may make your character more or less recognizable. You can also call on the other principles of design to make up for any leap-of-faith redesign choices you make.

Narrow It Down

Now that you're thinking, it's time to narrow those ideas down! Be aware that sometimes, less is more: you might have a ton of cool concepts, but your design will look BAD if you can't stay cohesive. The number of different ideas that can co-exist in one design varies a lot by preference and similarity, so be evaluative when doing this. If you follow my blog, you might notice I tend to walk the line between detailed, cohesive design and overwhelming animator repellent. To combat this, I try to step back often and consider if I've gone too far.

At this stage, it's good to make notes or small sketches - anything to get your ideas down.

Experiment

Test your ideas out with more sketches - alter, add, subtract... whatever your heart desires. Experimentation is the best way to discover your specific design tendencies, as well as breaking new ground and stepping out of your comfort zone. The more you experiment, the quicker you'll improve. This is usually the point where I start testing out different patterns, since those are the main highlight of most of my redesigns. Pertaining to dragons, it's always a good idea to test out different shapes - especially wings, spikes, arms and tails, which are generally the most customizable features of a character. Looking to other artists for advice/inspiration is also a great tactic, but be sure to follow the 80/20 rule of originality within your designs!

Judge yourself (not literally)

Evaluating your designs as you make them is always a great idea, but sometimes you need multiple tests/sketches in order to know what you REALLY want. Compare your experiments - what do you like about them? What do you dislike? Which are more faithful to the character, and which ones confuse you? understanding the flaws in your design can help you to overcome even the biggest challenges.

I've used Kinkajou to show how important evaluation is: despite being my favorite character, she has proved exceedingly hard to redesign (to my satisfaction,) even with multiple attempts from this year and the last. She might not even be released by the time this post airs - but with the power of critical thinking and good evaluation, her design has gradually improved over my last few attempts.

Stay on your toes

Did you think you were done? Did you think it was over? NO. Life doesn't get easier just because you made it past the idea stage. When you have your final thoughts and want to get chugging with your reference page/illustration, make sure to stay alert! Keep evaluating, keep experimenting, and make sure to stay mindful of what you do! One of the more common issues I have is that I turn my brain off while I draw, and then slowly my designs drift further and further away from the idea I actually wanted to put down. Asking yourself questions along the way can help to sharpen your design, and train your mind to think more artistically.

It's always good to take a once-over of your final product: check for errors you might have made, and think about whether or not your design still looks good. Does it show personality? Is it consistent?

If you do find that your end product isn't what you really imagined, don't despair - there are plenty of lazy tricks you (And I) can pull to string things back together again. Using gradient maps is a great way to fix your colors, and simple filters like 'overlay' (procreate) can help to neutralize your pallet. My favorite trick is to use the 'curves' tool (procreate) to make certain colors darker, in the case that I feel my design doesn't use a wide enough range of light and dark shades. I also like to turn saturation down if I think there's a color problem, to see if it's actually my pallet or if I'm using too many colors with the same tone.

Keep Going

My design strategy relies on confidence. You won't be able to improve if you doubt that you can! So, my most important piece of advice is to keep going, no matter how fast or slow you seem to make progress. My second most important piece of advice is not to compare yourself to other artists - focusing on their progress is neglecting your own.

To everyone who made it this far, thank you so much! Posting here truly is an amazing experience and I adore you guys. Sorry if this got a little out of hand. I hope this was helpful to you and anyone else with the same question, as well as being a useful resource to other artists in the future! As always, my askbox is open to any and all questions + requests for redesigns!

( ´ ω ` )ノﾞ

[thehollowwriter]

I'm ngl, I think the Spider Verse movies are the best depictions of Spider-man. They embody the very concept of Spider-man perfectly, and I believe this because of the explosive fandom reaction to them, especially the sequel.

So many people from so many backgrounds all over the world started making their own "spider sonas", their own ideas of a spider person. Sure you can just say it's a trend, but people are still doing it now. I've seen disabled Spideys, queer Spideys, Spideys from any country you can think of, Spideys with vastly different designs, aesthetics and personalities, Spideys who are deeply rooted in the creator's culture, yet who are all unquestionably Spidey.

Never before has the message of "anyone can wear the mask" been so true, and never before have so many people believed it.

People saw themselves represented on screen whether it be through the mc or side characters, they saw the limitless potential of so many different dimensions and universes, they saw Miles reject the "canon" and the idea of what Spider-man "has to" be (which is quite clearly at least partially inspired by egotistical and bigoted Spider-Man "fans" who believed there was only one Spider-man and only one way his character could be depicted and only one way his story should be told) and they understood that yes, they were included in the phrase "Anyone can wear the mask"

Spider-man was always such a successful character who everyone wanted to see for a reason. He isn't the same as many other heroes who were all adults and seemed to be in a place most viewers couldn't dream of seeing (rich, a god, a super soldier, etc).

Peter Parker starts out as just some guy, an everyday middle or lower class person who does everyday things like go to school or miss the bus or get fired. Peter was no smooth and classy ladies man, he wasn't a sports star or anything. He was an awkward and shy guy who liked "nerd" stuff.

He, in the words of MJ, "just happened to get bit." It was an accident, a spider bite. He wasn't in the military or creating a powerful suit or anything. He's some guy who got powers and decided to use them to protect people. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.

Most importantly, he was the first superhero of his kind. Before Spidey, there was no "teenage superhero." There were only adult superheroes, and teenagers only appeared as sidekicks. When Stan Lee suggested a teenage superhero, he was told it was a terrible idea, and nobody would want to see that.

Well, I'm sure all of us in 2024 where the Spider-man IP is worth over $27 billion with ten movies starring Spidey as the mc, and several more where he makes an appearance as a side character, and where Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse set several box office records and was the sixth highest grossing film of 2023, can see how wrong that was.

Since his conception, Spider-man was a character who defied how things "should be" and took that leap of faith, and it led to greatness. Just like Miles' entire story of becoming Spider-man being completely different from what we've seen so many times before. Just like Miles defying Miguel and carving his own path, even with the threat of "breaking the canon" (which I personally think can be interpreted as a representation of the idea some people have that if you make Spidey "too different", you'll destroy him as a character)

Together, the two Spider Verse movies managed to prove that yes, anyone can wear the mask. You don't need the "right" skin colour or gender or backstory or plot points. Those are not what makes Spider-man who he is, and those are not why people fell in love with his character and concept.

What made Spider-man who he was, was his actions, his compassion, his relatatability, and how he inspired people. He's a hero whose entire appearance is covered by his suit, and yet is not doubted as a hero by those who were saved (plots where the writers want to make him suffer more exluded/hj).

So yeah. I really love the Spider Verse movies. Not just for their animation, music, story, and voice acting, but also for how they managed to embody and challenge the idea of Spider-man and potrayed just why Spidey was so loved.

(I mainly focused on Miles in this lil rant because he's the mc, but if ya'll want to discuss other characters like Gwen please comment or reblog with your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[blueblossomrose]

This special post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, FLUFFY, TOO MUCH FLUFFY 😭 my obsession with old Disney movies screaming, fem!afab!MC, family n children, MC having a dream of getting married, reference very slightly to Cinderella (1950) obviously, diasomnia boys having their happy ending.

Note(s): I AM SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT THIS HIATUS, GUYS 😭😭😭 My mind was so busy these last few months with all my works thinking about writing that fluffy fluffy special to make up for my days of writing block after going on vacation for Carnaval 👽 I hope you guys love it as much as I... that cried writing it 💀 and I hope this excuses this long inactivity ☠️

All gifs edited by me, but divider got from here.

Consider checking out my aesthetic blog!

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

A Wish Your Heart Makes

Have faith in your dreams and someday Your rainbow will come smiling through No matter how your heart is grieving If you keep on believing The dream that you wish will come true

“Are happy endings fairy tale's thing?”

Malleus couldn’t say. Human inventions had always been a mystery to him. He always had a distant and almost skeptical view of the happy endings that human stories so extol. To him, these narratives were like the light breeze of a summer night, pleasant and fleeting, but difficult to grasp and truly understand. As a fae, his nature made him see the world from a different perspective, and the idea of an ending — whether happy or tragic — was, to him, a human thing. He found it curious how humans always yearned for a definitive outcome, as if it were a vital necessity of their ephemeral existences. They sought in stories the hope that, in the end, everything would work out.

Malleus had never given much thought to his own dreams. Not in the others sense, at least. He understood dreams as manifestations of the mind, echoes of the subconscious, scattered fragments of reality shaped by desire or fear.

To him, dreams were almost tangible, an intrinsic element of his own magic — and yet he had never stopped to consider what it was that he, Malleus Draconia, truly desired.

Not that Briar Valley didn't have its own stories... but thinking about it that way, humans are far removed from theirs.

Happy endings… the concept was foreign to him. Fairy tales were — ironically — human stories, created to comfort fragile hearts, tales where love always prevailed and heroes were rewarded for their virtue.

Dragons like him, however, were supposed to be the obstacles that prevented such happiness. Beautiful and powerful beings... but lonely.

But then, there was [Name]. The magicless human who one day appeared in his life and in a few months, made his already apparently consolidated worldview turn upside down.

It was [Name] who taught him to dream.

She spoke of dreams as something beautiful and fragile. When they were still in school, he had heard her whisper to herself, with a twinkle in her eye, about how she wanted to marry one day. Because she wanted true love.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” she had said once, and it's been stuck in his head ever since.

Such a simple explanation for something that took him a long time to elaborate. Maybe that was the simplicity that comes with such a short life. He admired it, even back then.

The thought did not linger, however. No, he knew. He was in love. Happy endings...

The great hall of Briar Valley Castle glowed with enchanted candlelight, reflecting off the stained glass windows that adorned the ancient stone walls. The air was filled with the soft melody of a waltz as nobles and ambassadors watched with interest as the king and queen’s eldest daughter, Princess Aurora, danced with her suitor, as her pink gown swirled gracefully.

It was a grand celebration, the 16th birthday of the half-fae princess.

The old senators of the council, those whom Malleus deeply despised, were present, but they kept to themselves. Their accessibility was limited, limited by the changes Malleus and his human had brought about over the years. There was still resistance — whom Malleus called idiots and fools when he was particularly angry — but most of the councilors and palace staff had already surrendered to the strength of [Name]’s kindness, which contrasted with her husband's sometimes skittish temperament.

Aurora, the star of the night, twirled around the ballroom, she looked a beguiling sight, wearing the pink gown she had specially ordered for the occasion — certainly influenced by a certain bat fae she referred to as 'Grandpa Lilia' — along with the jewelry she received as a gift from her great-grandmother, Maleficia.

From where they stood, Malleus and [Name] watched in silence. His green eyes shone with something between pride and nostalgia.

“She’s beautiful,” [Name] murmured, a soft smile on her lips as her eyes followed her daughter’s every graceful movement.

Malleus watched her for a moment before answering. “Yes… but I confess I didn’t expect this day to come so quickly. I still remember when she had to climb on a chair to reach my stomach.”

[Name] chuckled softly. “I guess now she might just look at you.”

Malleus let out an amused sigh, but his gaze returned to his daughter with a touch of melancholy. “Humans grow up too fast...”

Before [Name] could respond, a movement beneath one of the large buffet tables caught her attention. She frowned as she noticed two small silhouettes sneaking stealthily between the legs of the furniture.

The six-year-old twins Magnus and Kyrval were under the table, trying to steal sweets from the silver trays. Their green eyes glinted with mischief as they reached out for honey cakes and candied fruit. But before they could escape with their stolen candies, two soldiers scared the two by pulling them out from under the table.

“My lords... you can't just crawl through the royal hall like that!” one of the soldiers scolded, the respectful but firm voice.

“But we're hungry!” Magnus protested, holding a piece of cheese as if it were a precious treasure.

“And small meals taste better!” Kyrval added, blinking innocently.

“Magnus! Kyrval!” she scolded them almost immediately as Malleus held back a laugh.

“They inherited Lilia’s mischievous spirit… and a little of yours, perhaps.”

[Name] gave him an indignant look. “Mine? Malleus, I don’t remember myself going around stealing sweets at royal balls!”

He chuckled softly, leaning toward her. “No… but I do remember a certain young lady who stole my heart many years ago.”

[Name] felt her cheeks flush, but she smiled sweetly almost automatically with the phrase. “... Do you regret that, your majesty?”

Malleus didn’t answer right away. His green eyes roamed the hall — his children, his wife, the castle lit up in celebration... faes, half-faes and even some humans... not alone.

Then he looked at [Name] again, his expression softening in a way only she could see. “Never.” He gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

He never imagined he would have something like this.

Everything changed when the girl from another world appeared. No fear. No hesitation. No one knows why the magic mirror brought [Name] to Twisted Wonderland... but honestly? Malleus was glad it did. She was the deepest desire within his heart. His dream.

Dragons aren't usually given happy endings. Maybe, just maybe... he was an exception to the rule.

He looked at [Name], his eyes meeting hers with a soft glow. And he’s happy with it.

To dream is to wish.

Lilia had been thinking about this idea for years. In his long life of over 700 years, he had experienced many misfortunes, losses, and sorrows — wars that devastated kingdoms, bitter goodbyes, and the feeling of carrying the weight of everthing on his shoulders.

But he had also been able to find happiness.

In raising Silver, in the tenderness of caring for Malleus, in the moments of pride in watching Sebek mature, even if in fits and starts.

He had never really dreamed of anything more than that. If he were honest with himself, his wish was simple: peace. How it would come, in what form, with whom — it didn’t matter.

But, as always, life had decided for him. With his children grown up, with their own homes, paths and families, he thought it might be time to explore the world. To wander. To be in distant cities. To sleep under the stars, free from worries. But that was not what happened.

A sweet wife from a distant world without magic and lively triplets had made his life much more noisy. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

The kitchen was scented with lavender and some sweet-smelling incense he had bought on a trip they took a year ago. He remembers getting a huge scolding from [Name] for buying so many, but he light them almost every day. Lilia, wearing an apron embroidered with small berries — a gift from the girls last Father's Day —, washed the dishes while humming softly.

“Dad, come see!” Aisha’s voice cut through the air with excitement. “I’m humiliating Arista at the Kart again!”

Lilia raised his eyebrows with a smile on his lips. With a light snap of his fingers, the utensils began to wash themselves, floating gently around the sink. He took off his apron, drying his hands with a cloth and headed to the living room.

“Humiliating me?” Arista replied with a joking frown. “All I saw was you losing it and pushing all the buttons!”

It was Lilia's first time raising girls, and it was in this chaotic and adorable process that he came to an inevitable conclusion: raising children would always be a constant learning experience — regardless of your experience in the subject.

“Battle tactics, you wouldn’t understand!” Aisha declared with exaggerated confidence, lunging forward as if that would speed up her character in the game.

“I win.” Arista said in a calm and satisfied tone, leaning back on the sofa like a queen on a throne, the controller resting gently on her lap.

"Whaaat?!" Aisha screamed, jumping from where she was sitting as if she had just been stabbed. Her wide eyes stared at the screen where the dots shone mercilessly: Arista - 1st place.

Lilia, who was watching the scene from the kitchen door, laughed softly.

"Wow, Arista..." Adela said softly, briefly looking away from her book to her older sister. She wasn't the most competitive, but she was always there to support her sisters, even with her shy and quiet personality. At the moment, she was gently stroking the silky fur of one of Lilia's bats, which was sleeping curled up in her lap like a fluffy, furry ball.

Count Fabulous — as [Name] gave him when she and Lilia were still studying at NRC — was the most spoiled of Lilia’s bats. Ever since Adela was a baby, he had followed her around, perching on nearby furniture or on her head as if he were her personal protector. Now, he dozed heavily, his ears fluttering slightly, lulled by the girl’s soft voice, but with Aisha and Arista moving on the couch, he ended up waking up and squeaking when he looked at the screen.

“Even Count is surprised,” Lilia murmured humorously, watching the bat stir fluttering the fabric of Adela's dress.

Adela smiled, stroking his back with a finger. “He bet on Aisha, I think.”

“Cute little traitor.” Arista said, smiling despite the line.

With the girls still vibrating with the echoes of the game’s contention, the front door opened with a soft creak, followed by the familiar sound of [Name]’s footsteps. Lilia looked up with a soft glow in his red eyes and smiled as he saw his wife’s figure crossing the threshold of the house.

Without saying a word, [Name] walked over to the couch where the triplets were spread out and, with a theatrical movement, threw herself gently on top of them, like a human blanket. She didn't press too hard, of course — just enough to cover them with her body and elicit immediate reactions.

"Mom!!," Aisha protested between laughs, trying to free herself.

"Rescue mission! Fabulous, save us!" Arista shouted, laughing, while Count Fabulous just opened one lazy eye on Adela's lap before settling back down, oblivious to the commotion.

"Mama, you're feel cold... stay a little longer..." Adela murmured, hugging her mother's arm affectionately.

"My days off are coming..." [Name] said, her voice muffled between her daughters' hair and the pillows. "I missed my noisy gang so so so much~"

Lilia approached the couch with his hands on his hips, his eyes half-closed and a mischievous smile curving his lips. “Can I join you?” he asked with false innocence.

Before any of the four could respond, the couch rocked gently, and then, with a soft green glow, it tilted forward as if it had a life of its own, gently dumping all of the girls onto the living room’s plush carpet. A bundle of giggles, messy hair, arms and legs all jumbled together, collapsed to the floor like a pile of animated pillows.

“AH! Dad!!” Aisha and Arista shouted in unison, Aisha louder than Arista, actually.

"I was comfortable, papa!" Adela grumbled, sitting down with Count Fabulous all ruffled on her lap, flapping his wings indignantly before landing again, huffing softly.

"I can't believe it, Lilia!" [Name] said, trying to look angry, but already with a smile on her lips and her eyes shining with laughter. Lilia approached slowly, as if he were going to seal a peace agreement with a kiss, and so he did — he leaned over, laughing softly, and kissed her forehead sweetly before lying down on top of everyone like [Name] did moments ago.

"Not agaaaain!" the three shouted in unison, between laughter and attempts to escape from their father's arms.

Still stretched out on the rug, the girls pointed to the ceiling, commenting excitedly on the floating ornaments — small enchanted lights that spun gently like fireflies caught in a whirlwind. They were souvenirs left by 'big bro' — Silver — on his last visit.

To some people, the idea of a house still full of young children might seem like the complete opposite of a peaceful retirement. And by traditional standards of rest, it was.

But to Lilia it didn't matter. It never mattered. Being with his family was what he dreamed of. It was all he wish for. “In dreams you lose your headaches, whoever you wish for, you keep.”

There was his rest. Not in the empty spaces, but in the constant presence. In the sound of clumsy footsteps in the mornings, in the voices calling "Dad!" throughout the house, in the tight hugs, in the fights over the last cookie, in the notes left on the table and the stories told under blankets.

Yes, he still traveled. He had his moments of adventure, exploring new places with the girls strapped to backpacks, [Name] with the map in hand. It was in family. It was messy. It was noisy.

This was Lilia’s rest. A rest in true Lilia style: full of voices, chaotic, but overflowing with love.

Silver knew dreaming well. It was what he had done for most of his life, and it was also an instinctive part of his own magic. Dreams were a sweet treat, a place where his worries melted away and all that was left was the best, most beautiful sky and peace.

“Have faith in your dreams and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through,” When he thought of this, what came to mind was his desire to serve Malleus, to be the knight that Lilia trained him to be. At the same time, he wanted to be with his family and friends, but he didn’t expect to fall in love.

It came subtly, with dreams. He saw her. A charming girl, who in his opinion was beautiful. She was there, in his deepest dreams, and he did not understand who she was… until he saw [Name] for the first time.

He was lying on the couch, his head resting on [Name's] lap. She was gently stroking his hair, her fingers running through it like a gentle wind. With the book on one of her hands, she was quietly reading an old story, pausing only to smile at the faces Silver made when his bangs fell into his eyes because of her caresses. He had returned from work tired, not with the same chronic drowsiness of his adolescence, but with the normal tiredness of someone who dutifully fulfills his duties. As one of the most trusted knights of the king, Silver carried great responsibility on his shoulders. But at home, with them, he could truly rest. The sound of pages turning mingled with the distant ticking of the wall clock and the rustling of leaves outside.

"Daddy!" Hana yelled happily, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor as she ran across the room. Without stopping, she threw herself at Silver with an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking him off the couch. Her blond hair flew like gold threads in the wind, and her auroral eyes sparkled with joy. Silver jumped a little on the couch, a gasp escaping him at the impact—more from surprise than pain.

[Name] let out a light laugh, covering her mouth with her free hand as her gaze danced between her husband and daughter. Silver, even exhausted, gave a gentle smile, his half-closed eyes opening a little wider to look at his beautiful — literal — princess. And she loved being called that. Every time she heard the title come out of her father's calm voice, her little face lit up.

Hana wasn’t old enough to know exactly everything about her family, so Silver tried to tell her what was appropriate for a child to know, sometimes with the help of Lilia and [Name]. He had long realized that his daughter loved the concept of princesses. But not political princesses, more 'real' ones— she liked the ones who sang with the animals of the forest, the fairy tale ones. He would never forget the almost heavenly glow in her eyes the day Malleus bowed slightly, placed his crown on Hana’s little head, and said with a faint smile: "There, now the princess has a crown." Hana was ecstatic. She spent a whole week wearing tiaras made of flowers or paper.

“Daddy, you came home early today!” she said, her adorable little voice filling Silver’s ears like sweet music, while those little arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around his neck.

"I was able to be released early by order of General Zigvolt, my princess." Silver said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

[Name] laughed again. She gently tugged at a lock of Silver’s hair. “Sebek released you? Now that’s a surprise,” she said, raising an eyebrow humorously.

Silver couldn’t help but laugh at [Name’s] words. Sebek was adamant about schedules most of the time, and that was no secret to anyone. On the one hand, it was good. He kept everything in order, like a true general. On the other hand… well.

Hana, who was squirming between her parents with the energy that children normally have, rolled over with such excitement that she almost slipped off the couch, but Silver was faster. With a fluid movement he caught her with one strong hand, wrapping it around her waist and pulling her back safely.

“Careful, princess,” Silver said, his auroral eyes resting on her with tenderness and attention.

Hana lifted her chin proudly, her little hands on her hips and a glint in her eyes. “I knew Daddy would catch me, so I’m not afraid!”

Silver smiled once more. “I will always catch you, but take care of yourself too, my flower,” he said, his voice as serene as ever.

“Okay!” Hana smiled at her father, that innocent smile that lit up the soul, before stretching backwards like a little cat in the sun. As her arms stretched lazily, her voice filled the living room, chattering about her day. Silver listened to everything with full attention, his calm eyes fixed on her, and his hands always ready in case she slipped off the couch again.

In a moment of pause, Hana began to play absentmindedly with the wedding ring on her father's finger, slowly turning it with her small, delicate fingers. Without warning, Hana simply sleep. She slid softly onto Silver’s chest, her breathing even and calm, her golden eyelashes resting on her rosy cheeks. Silver felt her soft weight and had to suppress the urge to laugh. Hana was a thousand times more energetic than he had been in his childhood, — which, honestly, wasn’t much of a feat, considering his old constant sleeping habits — but when she got tired, there was no warning. She would simply pass out, as if someone had flipped a switch in her.

Silver rested her little head on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, his hand resting on her back. He felt his daughter's heart beating softly, and the warmth of her pressed against his chest was all he needed to know that he was at home.

For a moment, all was silence and peace—the kind that only existed within the purest dreams. When he thought about his life now, about everything he had experienced—he never, not in a million years, expected to be graced with such happiness. His rainbow had come. And now it slept softly on his chest, in a little flowery dress, with her little hand still holding his finger.

"Daydreaming again?" [Name] whispered to him as she noticed his gaze.

"Living a dream, actually." He replied.

Dream? What he had was not a dream. It was conviction. A solid goal, an unbreakable purpose. He would become a knight worthy of serving Malleus.

Sebek trained until his bones ached, endured thunderstorms —literally— and never took his eyes off the goal. The half-human blood he carried? An obstacle to be overcome with discipline and hard work. “No matter how your heart is grieving, If you keep on believing...”

If anyone, back then, dared to insinuate that he would marry — how awful — a human, he would scream so loudly in their ear that their eardrums would beg for mercy.

But as a wise old man once said — or perhaps it was Lilia in one of his absurd proverbs: "The earth doesn't turn, it capsizes with style."

And now, here he was — Sir Sebek Zigvolt, General, loyal knight to King Malleus Draconia... beside his lovely human wife and their two radiant children.

“Ivan!” Sebek called, his voice still naturally strong, but intentionally softened— an effort he made for only one person. “Don’t pull on the reins so hard! You’ll hurt the horse!”

Ivan, atop a sturdy horse with a grayish coat and a mane that shimmered faintly, turned calmly to his father. His eyes gleamed with amusement. “I know, father. I was just testing whether he responded well to my voice,” he replied, with that subtle teasing tone that only Sebek recognized as a direct inheritance from [Name].

Nearby, sitting under the shade of a cherry tree with their daughter, [Name] held back her laughter. The pent-up sound still escaped in joyful sighs. “Where did you get that horse again?” she asked, arching an eyebrow with an amused smile.

Sebek huffs, trying to maintain his composure. "For training, of course."

"Of course it is." [Name] held back a slight loving eye roll at Sebek's words, that kind of response so typical of him.

She then watched him approach Amelie with affection visible on his naturally stern face—a softness that only emerged in front of his daughter.

As quietly as his voice would allow, he knelt down at her level and said, “Are you enjoying the stroll, my lady?”

Amelie looked at him with shining eyes. A small, bright smile spread across her face. “Yes, Daddy!” she answered happily, and raised her short arms toward him, asking to be held.

Without hesitation, Sebek picked her up with the greatest care in the world. He positioned Amelie against his chest, shielding her ears from the loud tinkling sound.

Ivan, who was watching everything from the top of the horse, arched an eyebrow as if he was about to make a sharp comment. But when he saw his sister nestled against his father's chest, her little fingers playing with the brooch on Sebek's clothes, he simply got off his horse and approached in silence.

"General Zigvolt, you are breaking the knightly protocol again," Ivan said, his tone exaggeratedly serious, but his eyes barely concealed the amusement.

Sebek gave him a half-closed look. "When you turn a father, you will understand that there is no protocol more sacred than that of protecting your children." He adjusted Amelie better in his arms. "And put on those gloves properly, Ivan. A knight must always be ready."

Ivan sighed at the drama. Then, he knelt down beside his dad, leaning down slightly until he was at his sister’s level.

“Are you having fun, Lie?” he asked softly, touching her nose with a finger.

Amelie laughed softly. “Yes! Ivan looks beautiful in his armor!” he declared, as if it were the greatest truth in the universe. Ivan blushed slightly, and [Name] could barely contain another laugh.

Sebek would be lying if he said he’d never considered having children. Perhaps, in some distant future—if he reached the pinnacle of his career as a loyal and worthy knight—he might be granted the honor of marrying a pure-blooded fae. It was the kind of future he’d always been pictured as: respectable, honorable…

But now… now, when he looked at his little Amelie against his chest, or at Ivan laughing as he receives a sweet stroke of his hair from his mother— the image seemed absurd. Almost laughable.

All his life, he had been taught, indoctrinated, encouraged — partially? Completely — by his grandfather Baul, to hate a part of himself. To deny it. To hide it. To regard his human half as inferior, weak, inconvenient. To view his own father with disdain. And for a while… he believed it. He carried that hatred like a banner.

He wasn’t crucifying his grandfather, of course not. Old Baul had fought in a cruel war, with countless losses. He was a marked veteran —scarred, traumatized, and horrified.

But the truth was this: Sebek was happy. Happy that this human girl without magic, from another world, had stepped through the magic mirror and—clumsily—interfered in his life. And stayed.

[Name] had changed him. More than anything else, anyone else. Sure, Silver, and even his insufferable classmates at Night Raven College had their part in deconstructing his prejudices. But the real turning point came with her.

He remembered well the day of his first visit to his old home. [Name] squeezed his hand. And he remembered the look in his father’s eyes. The way Mr. Zigvolt — that loving, always clumsy, always smiling dentist — looked at him with so much love… and no hurt. Even after all the years of rejection. Sebek bowed. And apologized. He saw his father’s eyes fill with tears. And yes — of course he had always been that emotional fool, and Sebek used to get irritated by it. But now, no. Now, he understood. And it didn’t bother him anymore.

In the middle of his thoughts, Sebek heard soft voices breaking through.

“Grandpa and Grandma will definitely make that recipe when we visit them next weekend. I mean, I bet great-grandpa will be there too,” said Ivan, with the confidence of someone who had already foreseen the entire menu and the habitual discussion from his grandparents' house.

“Haha, great-grandpa is so funny!” replied Amelie, swinging her legs back and forth. “He always fights with grandpa to hold us back..."

Sebek sighed with a tiny smile. The sight of Baul arguing with Mr. Zigvolt over who would pick up Amelie first was, in fact, more frequent than he cared to admit.

Sebek helped Ivan mount again, adjusting the saddle with practiced precision. When Amelie asked to climb on too, he didn't hesitate - his arms lifted her as if she were a feather, carefully placing her in front of her brother. She held the reins with wide eyes of excitement, and Ivan guided her with the same care that their father showed her. It was beautiful to see. It was in these moments that Sebek realized that he was indeed an example.

[Name] watched everything with a growing warmth in her chest. She would never have imagined — ever — that this half-impossible dream would end like this. No. It wouldn't end. It had started like this. A home. A family.

“The dream that you wish, will come true.”

And the funniest part? Sebek said,with all the letters, that he would never be like his father. But there he was, discreetly pushing a small, colorful package of magic candy into his children's hands after successfully dodging the horse.

"Don't tell your mother," he murmured, with a half-smile on his lips. [Name] watched the scene in silence, holding back her laughter. She saw Ivan and Amelie exchange knowing looks, make the silence symbol with their fingers on their lips and smile mischievously.

And that was true for Sebek, too. When he saw himself with a smile on his face — sincere, wide, light —watching his children share the candy, laughing and whispering among themselves… He realized. This was more than a dream. It was a reality.

His wish to become a knight, which had once existed only for honor, glory, and pride, had transformed. It wasn’t just for Malleus, or even for himself.

To protect his home. His wife. His children. That human part of him that he had once despised… but now, finally, he loved.