#Most of the stuff from his Old Ref

[skydreamplayzz]

Wanted to redraw his ref. (idk why, i got Motivation to Do refs. 🧍‍♂️)

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[tawnysoup]

I ADORE your art and how well you match the ISAT artstyle. I've been being alot of studies to try replicate the style and draw characters 3d but stylised. Are there any tutorials that have helped you, studies you do, or things you keep in mind whilst drawing to make the characters look so 3d?

Oooaaahh thank you!!! This is a really good question. I say that because I feel like I "2D cheat" ISAT art a lot. It's very comfy to draw bc my normal art is like that too, with angles that shouldn't be able to exist but look right bc it's 2D so your brain forgives it. Design of the art > accuracy of the anatomy, y'kno?

The hair kind of gives it away in most cases. It's meant to be such a specific shape, it kind of stops looking like the character if it gets too 3D? But drawing it more 3D has huge utility too, especially for animation n stuff. It's just something I've noticed about the style! It's very designed for 2D. It's very "the shape of the lines" > "the shape of the 3D object"

It's helpful to remember that ISAT characters are all made up of really simple shapes. Like Siffrin's head is just a ball from nearly any angle but the side. Their body is a cylinder but one end is wider than the other. Odile's face is a ball but the bottom is long, like an oval. Isa's is a ball but his chin is square, it has soft corners. Even Bonnie's face is a ball you just add a cheek bump. Etc etc.

^Notice how i can't simplify the hat down into a consistent 3D shape bc otherwise it just. kind of. doesn't look like Siffrin's hat LOL

If you have the simple 3D shapes down then the rest of it is all 2D cheating and focussing on details! Having character refs nearby at all times especially when ur tryna figure out how to draw the character is KEY so you can keep looking at it and comparing. Try to pay attention to the little quirks of the art style that differ from yours and try to mimic them. But don't be afraid to let your style infect it a bit if it helps you to create something more dynamic looking.

It helps that i've been drawing for ages. I know 'practice' is the age old advice but here's my spin on it: just draw, keep drawing what u want no matter if it looks bad or if some professional artist tells you you're doing it wrong. So long as you keep drawing you are learning. Indulge and draw what you want so you get to keep all the motivation and keep going.

oh and PUSH YOUR POSES/EXPRESSIONS!!! By this I mean, draw it once, and then lower the opacity and draw it again on top but pushing everything a little bit further. If a pose feels stiff this tends to fix it.

uhmmm i rambled on for ages but i hoped it helped u Tea (or anyone else reading)! thank u for the excuse to draw a bunch of funny isat doodlies :D keep going you have GOT THIS!!! THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO MAKE OR ENJOY ART! YAY

[lara-cairncross]

masterpost weewoo ✨✨

general art tag general ask tag

🧚hidden hollow au / rottmnt fairy au stuff:

au tag fanart/fanwriting tag "ask mikey" tag

original designs (this is kinda outdated now lmao)

brief intro comic

april -> leo size comparison

mini lore comic 1

info about mikey's talent

general idea for wings + shell anatomy

mini lore comic 2

info about leo's talent

mini lore comic 2.5??? (not important just funny to me personally)

shelldon exists. kinda.

thingy about their fangs (good color ref)

TURTLE TOTS

usagi intro!

raph shell ref

mini lore comic 3

ref for donnie's markings (kinda)

ao3 fanfics (from most recently updated to oldest)

link to my Ao3 page

are you lonely yet?

-> 6/? chapters, 11k words, english, Donnie- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: uhhhhh mikey gets hurt in a very damaging way. donnie blames himself big-time. they both think the other is mad at them. emotional angst woo hoo, but also kinda fluffy i think? also pretty heavy on disaster twins stuff

now it's red, now it's dead, now it's--

-> 1/2 chapters, 5k words, english, Mikey-centric.

notes: set in the Bad Future timeline! follows mikey's slow ascent into becoming something Other. lots of angst-- depression, disassociation, suicidal ideation, major character death, etc etc. probably my favorite fic that i've written? idk I love writing OP mikey!

the sun is a dying star

-> 3/? chapters, 10k words, english, mikey-centric but bounces between POVs

notes: started off as a one-shot but i got too ambitious for my own good. mikey is not having a good time. blah blah blah turtle-gets-kidnapped-by-scientists-or-something, but i wanted to focus more on like, psychological damage than physical damage. not sure when/if this one will get an update.

pizza bagels, communication, and other life-changing novelties

-> 1/3 chapters, 3.4k words, english, Miles- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: SHELLSHOCKED FIC WOOHOO !! THE ONE AND ONLY TIME I WILL WILLINGLY WRITE ROMANCE! uhhhh two teenagers pining for each other and doing dumb shit together and angsting about being children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. IT'S FLUFFY AND CUTE I PROMISE

it's golden hour somewhere

-> 1/1 chapters (completed), 7.4k words, english, Mikey- and- Karai-centric.

notes: one-shot. Karai POV, but focuses on turtle tot Mikey. basically the Hamato Sacrifice isn't the only curse that plagues the clan, and Mikey is the most recent Hamato to come under fire. predetermined fate and all that shit. fluff and angst. this one's kinda weird ngl I remember nothing about writing it or getting inspiration for it lmao

the icarus complex

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), 10k words, english, Raph-centric (and also kinda Leo-centric in second chapter).

notes: deals with Raph's PTSD following the Kraang invasion, and one possible coping mechanism he could fall back on. spoiler alert it's NOT a healthy one lmao. definitely one of the more interesting fics I've written in my opinion; I did a lot of research for this one to make it as realistic and respectful as I could. another personal fav :)

equivalent exchange (and other things that give Leo a headache)

-> 1/? chapters, 2.5k words, english, Future!Leo- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: another Bad Future timeline fic, this time with Present Mikey accidentally ending up with Future Leo. follows the two of them trying to figure out how to get Mikey back to his timeline. I still love this concept, but idk when I'll get around to updating it tho lmao

that's where the blood's supposed to be!

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), english, Mikey-centric.

notes: Mikey gets hit hard during a fight but brushes it off, and it comes back to bite him later. takes place after the show, but before the movie-- right when the whole Leo vs Raph kerfuffle is at its peak. questionable medical information but I did my best lmao. this one's kinda old and cringey atp but whatever

other stuff

fanart for 3 months au tag

fanart for golden future au tag

glass turtle keychains example

College Fund (aka my Ko-fi page :>)

[pastel-medic]

My name is Xed/Pastel ^v^ (He/Xe/They)! I am 24 years old and any other art accts will likely have the username pastelxapple if you want to find me on other platforms!

Medicsona:

Mercenary Intros

Full Refs:

RED Team:

BLU Team:

Gentlesurgery Ship 💜:

Roulette Class AU:

Blog intro, tags, & rules ⬇️

Ko-fi (sketch comms):

Strawpage:

Tags:

#my art (or #xed art) - My art tag! You can find my artwork directly with this tag 🐍✨

#ask box - All replies to my inbox are tagged with this! It comprises mostly of Q&As of my mercs or other characters, art requests, and other questions!

#roulette class au (or #tf2 roulette class au) - This is the tag for my TF2 AU, the Roulette Class AU! The long and short of it is I swapped all of the mercenaries' classes and there's major differences in the lore.

#quixote - My gentlesurgery ship tag! So not to confuse my ship with RED Medic and VLT Spy from the usual gentlesurgery ship you can find their content separate from that with this tag!

#medic brothers - This tag is specifically for my Medic Brothers (Fritz and Ludwig), so any art and lore for them are tagged with this!

#lore crumbs 🍰 - Small pieces of art and/or posts about my ocs or AUs! 👏🏼✨ I try to tag posts with any info or headcanons about my characters/AUs ^^

#shortcake medic - Tag used for any art I make of my Medicsona, Shortcake Medic! 🍰💖

#tsu art - (or #twin art) - Art tag for my twin's artwork 🦊 (@/hoshi-tsubasa )! I love sharing her work and she deserves more praise for it! ^v^✨ Yes she is a furry so be kind!!!

#moot art 💖 - Art tag for my artist mutuals! I love to share their work so I keep this tagged to their stuff so I can find it again (cuz I'm dumb and don't wanna scroll through reblogs for eternity)

#other artists (or #reblog) - This is the tag I use when I reblog other amazing artists' work!

General Info:

I've technically been in the TF2 community for more than 6 years but I just recently got back into it as of 2024!

Pr0shipper/“problematic” accounts DNI!!! I will block you >:(((

@/hoshi-tsubasa is my twin! Her art is just as incredible so go check her out too if you'd like! She also draws TF2 stuff here and there, plus she has some TF2 merch you can check out on her redbubble!

My main ship is Gentlesurgery, which I draw quite a lot! If that ship is not your cup of tea I kindly suggest to be polite and just move on, harassment and hate will not be tolerated here. I also have other favorite TF2 ships that I don't have listed above in the "Meet The Artist" template that I may draw from time to time! However, please be mindful that I don't really draw HeavyMedic (Red Oktoberfest), MedicScout (Quickfix/Blunt Trauma), or SniperScout (SpeedingBullet) ships, as those are not ships I'm particularly fond of compared to others (MedicScout cuz as a passionate MedicSpy shipper it just feels uncomfy for me) ;3; very sorry! (ALSO ABSOLUTELY NO SPYSCOUT GET OUT OF HERE WITH THAT DISGUSTING STUFF) I do like most TF2 ships tho (I especially love all Spy ships)! 💖

Please be aware I likely will not draw nsfw! There may be suggestive art tho from time to time :3c Some things will be tagged with tw if needed!

Also please do not tag my art with ship tags unless I have them put under my art! I am not comfortable with certain dynamics being labeled as ships, especially if the dynamic is not meant to be in any form romantic/sexual ;;

My hyperfixations do shift so I may hop from one media to another or draw crossovers! I will usually post my other non-TF2 art on my instagram, but all TF2 content will be here!

In addition, please be aware I have ADHD and an alter system (DID), so please note that I may go silent with posts every once in a while. My mental health is not a subject I care to make front and center here, so I prefer any questions or topics of such be kept private! Thank you! 💖

If you can I encourage you to reblog my artwork if you like it! Traction on tumblr is very different than on other social sites like twitter and tiktok, so it would mean a lot to me if you could share my art! 🥺💌 I'm deeply humbled if you enjoy my content, thank you!

Ask Box Rules:

This is a 16+ ask blog, so if you wanna ask me or my version of the mercs something pls feel free! Anon questions will be turned on and off from time to time, but if people completely abuse it or things get out of hand I will shut them off permanently ;3; Also please respect that there's a limit for how much you can ask of me, I won't consistently draw the same thing over and over if it's asked for like more than 3 times (especially by the same person)!

Also, if I do not respond to your ask, it may be because I am either uncomfortable with the ask, am unsure how to respond, or simply do not feel that it is an ask that needs to be posted. I am also NOT an rp blog so I will not respond to rp-like asks. Please respect this, thank you!

Please be respectful! I have major anxiety and communication/socializing is difficult for me, so I may not engage in conversations much ;0; I do get super nervous with parasocial behavior!!! I will do my best to respond to my inbox so please be patient with me 💌

Fanart/Art Rules:

Art Trades are for mutuals only! I rarely do them but think they're fun! Also will only do an art trade if the level of art quality and skill is the similar to my own, thank you! 💖

This isn't entirely an art request blog but depending on the question in the ask box I might doodle something if I'm interested enough! 🍰✨ I don't really draw ship requests often tho! ;3; Might do some that I like but depends!

I don't mind fanart! If you'd like to make fanart for me please tag me so I can see your lovely work! However pls don't draw my ocs or version (aus included) of the mercs inappropriately or in ships I otherwise am not comfortable with, as they already have pre-established relationships ;; Also please do not misinterpret/take creative liberties with my Medicsona (Shortcake Medic) specifically, as he is my personal sona and I am more sensitive about art of him! He is not an oc, he is a sona, so I am uncomfortable with misinterpretations and/or nsfw art of him. If you are unsure about anything please ask me first, I am very firm and particular about him! Thank you!!! 💖🍰

If you want to use my art as a profile pic please ask me first!!! DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY ARTWORK!!!!

[canadianno]

TCOLC AU Bishop refs!

They're done holy FUCK. The art here is kind of old, so some of the proportions are a little wrong, but I don't really mind all that much. 15 hours and 89 layers later, all 5 bishops are done. On one canvas because... I didn't wanna make new ones I'm ngl.

Each bishop has an everyday outfit and a crusade outfit! If you're drawing them at any point (now or in the future) and you have questions about the designs, don't be scared to send an ask my way, I'm always happy to clarify stuff.

(Note: I would greatly appreciate it if people didn't make suggestive jokes surrounding any of the designs, I'm not comfortable with them! Love yall <3)

Ramblings below! Edited note: tumblr likes to completely break my posts when I add a cut sometimes, which happened here, so I'm not gonna put one in hopes that it doesn't kill my formatting again. Hopefully it automatically "read more"s this post. If it doesn't I'm very sorry 🙏

🌿 Leshy: It's to be noted that my Leshy is transmasc, literally just because I think he deserves it, it's cool as fuck. I really wanted to give him the classic top-surgery scars because, I'll be honest, they're fun to draw, but I had to find a reasonable explanation for it because he's not a mammal. Anyway that's how I ended up with an entire evolutionary explanation for why he would have those. I will never be given the chance to explain it in the fic ever, so it shall just be random information I have forever. I love him he's silly.

🍄 Heket: While I am a big supporter of tomboy Heket, I also think she deserves to be cool and wear pretty frills whenever the fuck she wants. She's awesome and her shirt is supposed to look like a mushroom. It's also worth noting that the crosses on the bishops heads are specific, with Heket having two crosses with double prongs. She has them like this in-game and there's probably a cooler explanation for it but. I have my own silly headcanons bc I do what I want! Also, since I can't decide for the fucking life of me if she's a toad or a frog, I've decided she's just. Both. Both of them. Her mom was a frog her dad was a toad. Is this possible irl? No but COTL is a fantasy world I do whatever the fuck I want.

🌑 Narinder: Main thing I note for Narinder is that he has distinct facial markings, you just have to look closely. Another note is that his clothes have a repeating cloud motif because of the fog in the gateway- which, trust, it was his own idea. Lamb doesn't know why he chose it but they're not gonna argue. Narinders' main robes are made of wool, but his crusade outfit is made of cotton so it's easier to repair if damaged. His crusade outfit has the Big Pants because he's mostly gotta fight with his feet now, since most of the time his hands don't function reliably enough to hold a weapon.

🪸 Kallamar: Kallamar is funny to me because he's the only one here who's plantigrade, meaning he's got human-esque legs. Another notable design aspect is that he has a tail, when squids do Not Normally Have Those. That's because my Kallamar isn't fully a squid, and you can kinda sorta blame my mutual for that. Not really it's me who gave him the tail. Anyway, no matter how you draw him or what outfit he's in those 3 dark red jewels on the golden chain thing gotta be on him somewhere- they're sentimental to him. He usually wears them as a crown, but in the crusade outfit they're around his neck to be safer. Also, on the crusade outfit, he has stolen a set of Shamuras gloves. Brat little brother <3

🔮 Shamura: Their main outfit really closely resembles their bishop robes and that is intentional! They made the robes themselves, and it would've been close to an exact match had the Lamb banned them from using golden colored cloth. This is only partially because Lamb doesn't like them, but also because they don't want the bishops trying to start a mutiny, and walking around in bishop robes is a pretty easy way to collect weaker followers like flies. Shamuras' crusade outfit is also pretty unique compared to the others, and one of two reasons is that it's meant to resemble their old crusade outfits when they were younger. The second reason is that they look really cool. The outfit is designed for mobility, mostly, and before you say anything, the hip windows are because Shamura usually holds close range weaponry in the second set of arms and hates the way they snag on fabric when its there.

[that-sunny-pup]

Hello! I'm the mod, you can call me Mod Duck! Please respect that this blog is both as canon as I can be, but mostly headcanons, so some stuff might not be accurate or in character! I only had a couple scenes to work off of, so cut me some slack here 🙏

DogDay is 14 years old, and big DogDay/Solar is like. 31

𖤓 WARNINGS:

This blog may contain cursing and heavy topics such as mental breakdowns, Violence, panic attacks, and stuff simular to that. Mod is a Minor, so sexual topics will be kept to a minimum 🫵

𖤓 Role-playing and symbols:

"This is the regular, small DogDay! Hiya friends!!!"

"And this is the big DogDay, AKA Solar: They took my fuckin legs.."

[This is actions and/or thoughts!]

and this is how I'll speak most of the time! sometimes the tags tho

𖤓 other SC blogs:

@the-cool-chicken

@the-crafty-unicorn

@bubba-bubbaphant

@picky-piggy

@hoppyhopscotch1

@catnaplovesnaptime

@acat-foryournap

@bobbybearhugs-blog

@bunny-go-hop-hop

@dogday-shines-bright

@bearhugs-from-bobby

@the-cat-that-naps

@bubbabubbaphant-blog

GO FOLLOW THEM, THEY'RE ALL WONDERFUL!!! 🫵

𖤓 ART:

[all drawn by me!]

current status: REVIVING!! I'm clearing out my inbox a bit, making a ref sheet for my versions of the characters, and drawing art for some asks!!

headcanons under the cut:

Dogday has Autism and ADHD!

Because of his big ol ears, he has bad sensory issues with specific sounds, especially since he can hear so well. Because of that, he carries around headphones with him everywhere, so if you see him sitting somewhere with them on, he is overwhelmed, do not bother him!!

He glows in the dark like a nightlight, but his pendant glows constantly.

When he stims, he does so with tail wagging, hand flapping, and leg stomps/shakes.

he howls at the sun instead of the moon!

He is TERRIFIED of sunflowers. they stare back, he swears they do.

he finds pop rock candy very fascinating! it's his favorite candy.

he likes basking in the sun! and though he may be busy with something almost all the time, he always has an eye out, and is always keeping his friends safe, no matter what!

He 100% puts others before himself, no doubt.

he also has bad memory. not HORRIFICALLY bad, but its not very good either.

his body temperature is warmer than everybody elses, meaning he overheats easily. In contrast to what most would think, he likes cold weather more than summer weather.

[glass--beach]

hi, i’m j!

i’m a trans foxgirl who makes music under a couple different aliases and dabbles in other media as well. i use she/her pronouns exclusively, anything referring to me by other pronouns is out of date or just wrong. i am 29 years old and live in the pacific northwest near seattle. i am currently engaged to @daxe, who is also the main visual artist i work with, he creates most of my album covers as well as all the “official” art of my fursona.

my fursona is a swift fox and she shares my name because my connection to her is 1:1. working on a ref sheet and when i have it i will add that here.

odds are if you know me from anything it’s from one of these albums:

that’s my band glass beach, my most well known project, where i am the lead singer, primary songwriter, guitarist, keyboardist, and co-producer. though my blog is named after this project (and has been before the band even started) this is not really an official account for the band. any big announcements will be posted here but if you just want to keep up with the band you’re better off following glassbeachband on twitter. this is a personal account for me to post whatever the hell i want and i go wild with the reblogs sometimes.

LINKS:

glassbeach.bandcamp.com - glass beach’s music

classicj.bandcamp.com - my solo music, including my noise pop alias “j” as well as some older experimental electronic music released under the name “classic j”

classicj.neocities.org - my neocities page, WIP but i have put a lot of work into coding some interesting stuff, check it out!

glassbeach.band - glass beach’s website, which i designed.

^ me on stage with glass beach, photos by joey tobin

^ my favorite way to take selfies lol

MY TAGS:

#me - photos of me

#fursona - my fursona

#fan art - art from fans, usually relating to my music or my fursona or both

#asks - my asks. will probably make a FAQ at some point but for now if you want to ask me something it might be worth checking that tag to make sure i haven’t answered it already

#my music - my music

#photography - my photos

#actual blog post - the rare instances i use this platform for its intended purpose

#maggie - keeping this tag to memorialize my best friend margaret who tragically passed away. highly recommend listening to her music that i posted.

#fav - posts that i like a lot, usually because they never fail to make me laugh

[dismissivedestroyer]

Can I just say I love how you give the ghosts different traits? Like Hope's a more traditional ghost, Dexter's a little goopy (and the only one with a semblance of legs), and Skiddad is full on W.D. Gaster goop. It's great and I love it

AWEEE THANK YOU! Violet has actual notes about the ghosts so I drew some refs

Hope + Missing Children

-Just your average children spirit. Creepy, pale skin, empty eyes, all that stuff

-Difficult to comunicate with, but not impossible. They keep bits and crumbs of their old personalities, even if they seem way more "hollowed out".

-Only have a few set of words they constantly repeat. For example, Hope keeps repeating "Dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad"

-Get scared easily.

-Mostly harmless. May scare you half to death by appearing out of nowhere and staring at you from across rooms, but they don't do it on purpose.

Dexter Erotoph

-Goopy, as if he was made of melting plastic

-Broken neck he manages to keep straight at will God knows how

-Can possess specific objects and is one of the most tangible ghosts

-Easy to communicate with. Will just have regular conversations with you. He's actually got an attitude too.

-Mostly harmless, but may get dangerous if needs aren't kept in check, or if he's stressed or provoked.

Skiddad/Atticus/Simon/etc

-Old mannequin coated with an inky substance. The most tangible out of all the ghosts. Also the most powerful.

-Can obscure his face at will.

-Easy to communicate with, you can easily converse with him. He's gonna be insanely creepy and vague though.

-Can turn the inky substance into spider legs

-Prefers to appear just when it's night.

-EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. He just chooses not to attack directly. Mostly.

Bonus: Bob Velseb

-Basically looking like his current corpse in the morgue

-He won't talk to you unless he's taunting you while trying to kill you.

-Teeth are very tangible. The rest of the body is mostly not.

-The most dangerous, but simply because he can and will attack you in an attempt to eat you.

Bonus 2: Michelle Erotoph

-Basically trasparent

-Doesn't talk with anyone. She just wails and calls out for her son. Even if Dexter's ghost is right in front of her, she doesn't seem to see him.

-Basically harmless. Not tangible in the slightest.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light

Omg here we are. At the end. I'm sad, I've been having such a blast with you guys this week! But all good things... Anyway, this is a strange one, rambling and mournful but hopefully with some sweetness. I hope it makes you feel things, I hope it gives you something, I hope we part on this final day of Painland Week as friends and confidants 💛 Huge, huge thanks to the organisers of Painland Week for putting this magical event together! Special love on this day goes out to @mellxncollie , who has been creating amazing gifs all week and has made beautiful ones for this very fic. It's been so so wonderful to collab with you and everyone should go and look at these wonderful creations at ONCE. Warnings for canonical character death (sorry, Charles) and the stuff that comes with it (i.e. refs to bullying/hatecrimes), non-graphic injury description, and just general mournful grief vibes all round. But hopeful ending bc let's face it, we all know how this played out! 7.3k, M-rated, available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!

"Colour! What a deep and mysterious language. The language of dreams."

~ Paul Gauguin

Edwin Payne had always possessed a thirst for knowledge. As a child, he'd wished to learn just about everything there was to learn — every fact in every field. He'd been told, many times, that he could live to be a hundred years old, and still not have enough hours to do so.

Edwin had most certainly not lived to be a hundred. But he supposed that if you added his sixteen years of life to his seventy-three of death, he was getting rather close.

The dead years, however, had been far from conducive to study. Knowledge was hard to come by in Hell. Found either in burnt and bloodied books scavenged from individual damnations, or delivered in the form of cruel trials. He'd been taught a lesson or two in his time, but not on anything so polite and pedestrian as geometry. Edwin's key area of personal study in Hell had been one thing, and one thing only: how to escape from it.

It had taken seven decades, a slew of disembowelments and innumerable failed attempts, but at last he'd passed his final exam with merit. Or at least, a version of him had. But there wasn't much to be done for his original self, whose body lay mouldering on the dollhouse floor beneath a thousand savaged duplicates.

Best not to dwell on it.

He supposed he should have been upset about where the door to Hell spat him out. Not many people would be happy to return to the place where they'd met their untimely, violent demise. But to Edwin, after a small infinity in the blackest pit, stepping back into St. Hilarion's hallowed halls felt like greeting an old friend. Well, friend might be a tad generous. More of an acquaintance, or perhaps a second cousin one barely tolerated. Not a person one enjoyed spending time with, but nonetheless a familiar face.

For a day or so he'd wandered about in a bit of a daze, glancing over his shoulder for any sign he'd been followed from the depths. He'd drunk in every familiar feature, and puzzled over the unfamiliar ones. It was a small change in the grand scheme of things, but he suspected they'd replaced the drapes. They were a lighter grey now than they had been in his time. He wondered what colour they'd chosen — or for that matter, what colour they were in the first place. He'd never thought to ask.

Then on his second day of wandering, he'd stumbled across the old library. And that, for several weeks, had been that.

He'd probably had dreams about this, in his youth. Dreams of being left to his own devices, surrounded by books. All the information he could inhale, with no interruptions. Not even from the other boys. Their voices had startled him a few times, and he was always wary when a gaggle of them descended on the library. But he'd quickly realised that none of them could see him, and so long as he turned the pages quietly, he was free to continue his reading unmolested.

And he did so, continuously, for days. Not even boring old human restrictions like hunger, tiredness or eye strain could stop him now. He read everything he could get his hands on, brushed up on everything, filling in the gaps of the last decades. On the future that had been robbed from him, subsiding into history while his back was turned. He'd sat in his own shellshock when he read not only about how the so-called 'war to end all wars' had concluded, but also how little time had passed before the next one. He'd blushed and skimmed the pages pertaining to the nineteen-sixties free love movement. He'd gazed, thunderstruck, at the moon through the library window; wondering what the Earth must have looked like to the man they put up there.

All these years he'd been trapped in the gutters at the deepest depths of suffering, reaching up towards the light; all that time, humanity had been reaching, too. Up, up and up, all the way to the stars.

It became habit, after that, to gaze at the moon in between books and chapters. An opportunity to gather his thoughts on what he'd just read, to file away the facts, to jot down the most pertinent in his notebook. It was rather a meditative process.

Or at least it had been, until the night he'd seen something else beneath that moon. Something tragically earthbound amidst the gently illuminated greys of the grounds. A hunched and trembling shape against the trees, lurching by Edwin's window. A boy, on the run — his pursuers baying for blood like wolves at his heels.

They could put a man on the moon, but some things never changed.

It would be the first time Edwin had left the library since re-discovering it. Holding aloft the pilfered lantern he'd been using to read into the night, he trod carefully through the darkened corridors. The majority of staff and students were in dorms or common rooms by now, voices a soft patter, bleeding with the light under the doors. No one marked Edwin, or came to investigate the lantern floating past. Though some extinguished their own lights and hushed their voices, mistaking him for a warden. Edwin didn't wish to scare anyone, but he drew some comfort from it. He'd grown tired of being pounced upon in long, black, twisting hallways. How comforting for once to be the root of fear and not merely its captive.

Edwin had to search a little while, but he was already familiar with the best hiding places. It wasn't long before he was creeping up to the attic, minding his ghostly tread upon the stairs. He didn't wish to cause alarm, or send the boy deeper into hiding thinking his assailants had found him.

He crossed the threshold, and at once heard a shuddering intake of breath as the harsh white aura of his lantern bounced off the walls. He supposed there was no disguising the glow. He hung back a moment, conflicted. All he wanted was to offer some light and warmth, but perhaps a floating lantern would be a sight too much for the terrified boy. Well, it was too late for that, now. He stepped into the room proper, peering past the flare of his lantern to the source of the sound. A shivering bundle on the floor, tucked into a nook behind the shelves. Trying to be as small as possible and, by and large, succeeding.

Wide, hunted eyes stared into the light. A voice, low and wary, spoke.

"What do you want?"

It was then that Edwin realised the eyes weren't looking into the light. They were looking at him. He glanced behind himself, just to make sure, but he wasn't mistaken. "You can see me?"

It was also when he noticed something equally perplexing happening to the light. It had started to look... less white. No, in fact it no longer looked white at all, but it had not dimmed, and it bore no resemblance to any shade of grey Edwin had ever seen. It was... he didn't even have the language to describe it. If he had to choose a word, he could only say it looked warm. He'd never seen anything like it. Not in seventy years of Hell, nor in his life before. It simply defied description.

He tore his gaze from it. There were more pressing matters to attend to. "I... I thought this lantern might help," he said, still dumbfounded. He approached, with care — this boy was clearly a victim in this circumstance, but there was a defensive set to his jaw. A wild look in his eyes. A creature caught in a trap was as liable to bite a rescuer as an attacker. "You can simply extinguish it if those boys come up here."

The guarded expression cracked, vulnerability bleeding through. As Edwin drew closer, he noticed that the strange new quality of the light was reflected where it hit the boy. There were notes of something else beneath the pallid grey tones of his skin, something richer. Just as something beyond simple black glistened in his enormous eyes.

"You saw them?" the boy rasped.

"I did. I went to school here a long time ago." Edwin knelt before him, bringing the light closer to the lad’s face and marvelling, quietly, at the strange tones that sprang into sharp relief. Whoever this young man was, Edwin's very perception of the world appeared to be shifting in his presence. "We had bullies, too."

He looked so weak, curled up and trembling. He certainly wasn't weak, Edwin suspected that much. Peeking out from beneath the blanket were shoes and trousers of a kind he'd seen these modern boys wearing out on the sports pitch. The lad was no delicate flower, but at this moment, at the mercy of his wounds, he was helpless.

And if he could see Edwin... then his fate was already sealed.

Edwin looked at the boy levelly, at the fear in his strange eyes. He'd seen that fear upon countless faces these last seventy years, on the wretched souls crying out for respite from their torment. He'd worn a similar expression some decades ago, when a careless act of cruelty had damned him, too.

"Rest assured," he said, gently, offering the lantern. "I shan't hurt you."

He could see the moment the boy decided to believe him. His shoulders slumped, his breath escaped in a rattle of relief. He reached out from his blanket shell, and flashed a sliver of that curiously saturated skin at his shoulder. Against the stark white of the sleeveless vest he wore, the difference was now undeniable. Not grey, not white, but something altogether different. Like his eyes, like the metal at his throat and ear that glimmered in the lamplight. Tones Edwin had never seen before, couldn't even name.

It couldn't be...

"Cheers, mate," said the boy, shivering as he brought the lantern closer. "I'm freezing. Never been this cold in my life."

Swallowing, Edwin nodded. "It's the least I can do."

The boy's lips twitched in a feeble half-smile. "Yeah? You mean you can do more?"

Probably not as much as he'd like. But Edwin nodded again. "Of course."

The light shone upon the boy's face and the dark, waterlogged curls of his hair. Steeped in that impossible hue.

"Stick around a bit?" he asked, his voice very small indeed. "Bit lonely up here..."

Edwin had not come here with any plans to stick around. He'd wished to help, of course. But to say he was unaccustomed to dealing with people was a tremendous understatement. He'd planned to drop off the lantern, check the boy was alright, and slip away without a fuss.

But the boy was clearly not alright, half-alive and fading fast. And he'd seen Edwin, asked him in no uncertain terms to stay. Asked him with all the broken hope in his voice and all the impossible buried, blooming hues in his eyes. And if those colours meant what he had always been told…

Well. How could Edwin begrudge his own soulmate a last request?

"My name is Edwin," he said, as measured as he could manage. "Edwin Payne."

The boy grinned. It wobbled at the edges. "Charlie," he introduced himself. "Charles Rowland."

Edwin hummed. Charles. A pleasant name. Respectable. He thought it rather suited the young man. "A pleasure to meet you, Charles."

Charles chuckled, drawing the lantern closer to himself. "Pretty bloody brills to meet you, too, Edwin."

The colour — for it surely was a colour, Edwin knew of no other word or explanation — of the lantern seemed to pulse, then settle, stronger than before. It illuminated the feeble grin upon Charles' drawn face in hues as yet unnamed.

Edwin would have to find some names. Compare what he could see with what he'd been told, what he'd read. Identify what he could.

While he still had the chance.

"Best thing to happen to me all night," Charles mumbled. "You showing up."

Edwin wished to tell him things could only improve from here; but he knew it to be a lie.

~

"It is the color closest to light. In its utmost purity, it always implies the nature of brightness and has a cheerful, serene, gently stimulating character. Hence, experience teaches us that yellow makes a thoroughly warm and comforting impression."

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"Just didn't seem right. Letting that kid get beat on 'cause he's from Pakistan," said Charles.

His socks peeked out from the blanket, bright white in the lamplight. Interesting — a part of Edwin had always presumed that white would look vastly different with the rest of the spectrum unlocked. It didn't, but there was much less of it. The world was full of more off-whites in more hues than Edwin could've previously imagined. Charles' skin wasn't dissimilar. Pale-ish, but bearing pleasant warm under-and-overtones that made Edwin's look near-translucent by comparison.

"I mean, I'm half Indian," Charles continued. "Why am I so different?"

"That is a fair point," said Edwin, thoughtful, harkening back to some of the history books he'd skimmed of late. "They were the same country back when I was alive."

Fascinating how the times changed, new lines drawn in the sand. Fascinating, and frustrating. In the time Edwin had been gone wars had started and ended, entire countries had been ruptured, borders reshaped. And yet some of life's most persistent mysteries remained unanswered.

He'd not looked much into it, but it seemed little advancement had been made in understanding of the so-called 'soulmate' principle. It had been a frequent enough phenomenon to be common knowledge in Edwin's time, but no one ever had any real explanation for it. Plenty of spiritual explanations, of course. But it seemed no one could point to any tangible scientific reason why a person, upon hearing the voice of a certain other person, had the entire hidden colour spectrum revealed unto them. An entire dimension of the visible world remained inaccessible to the vast majority of the population, and still no one knew why, or even how. Clearly, there was still much research to be done on the subject.

And clearly, the notion of this mysterious person as a 'soulmate' was romantic drivel. Charles seemed a pleasant fellow, but he was a fellow. And two boys could hardly be soulmates, could they? No God-fearing Christian would embrace the concept if that were the case. So no, Charles couldn't possibly be his soulmate. Perhaps the phenomenon represented something else entirely. Like minds? Charles seemed an easy boy to get on with — and Edwin seldom got on with anybody. He even felt at ease sitting beside him on the hard attic floor, nearly touching. Perhaps Charles was simply his universe-appointed fastest friend; the one person in creation who could truly understand him.

Or maybe it was a cosmic fluke, a quirk of biology. Maybe it could have been absolutely anybody in the world.

Yes, that was probably it. Nothing deeper at play than that.

Still, it was a pity Charles would be dead before the night was out. Soulmate or not.

(Definitely not.)

"Right..." Charles mumbled. Followed by a frown. "Wait, what?"

"Hm?"

"What d'you mean 'when you were alive'?"

Edwin looked at him. Charles still seemed rather small, rather sorry. A chilly little lump, all curled in on himself, even now they were side by side and of a height with one another. He looked cold, sallow. Not even the warm hues of the light Edwin had tentatively designated yellow could hide it, cheerful though it may be.

"You ought to move around a bit," said Edwin, standing smoothly. "You must keep your circulation going."

It would do no good, of course. But who knew? Charles might be hardier than Edwin gave him credit for.

"Edwin," said Charles, all seriousness. "What d'you mean when you were alive?"

Edwin's brow twitched. He held out his hand. "Get up, and I shall tell you."

Charles took his hand — and startled. "Fuck — you're colder than me, mate!"

"And for good reason. Come, now. Two or three quick laps of the room. I'll hold the lantern."

~

"Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead."

~ Wilfred Owen

Edwin had heard some truly hideous sounds in his time. Crunching bones, squelching organs, agonised screams. And yet somehow, the wheeze of Charles hacking up water from pulverised lungs was among the worst to date.

"Are you alright?" Edwin asked, hands clasped upon the table — lest he risk something overfamiliar like a pat on the back.

"I'm fine," Charles deflected, voice hoarse and unconvincing. "Just answer my question.

Charles was looking worse by the minute. The warm tones of his skin that Edwin had grown so fascinated by were receding under sallow grey. A new colour was blooming, in and around his eyes; in the puffy lids underneath, in the spiderwebbing veins across the whites.

This colour was not nearly so puzzling — the veins were a dead giveaway. Edwin had read more than enough crime literature to be able to identify the colour of blood.

So, this was the famous red. A bold colour, possibly quite charming in the right context; which this most assuredly was not. Edwin was no physician, but he'd read a number of medical textbooks. Charles bore all the hallmarks of a man bedevilled with internal bleeding. It was not a matter of whether he would die, but of what would kill him first; the cold, or the injuries.

He tore his gaze away. Anger, bitter and harsh, had him by the throat, had his fists clenching together until his gloves creaked. Who were those wretched boys, to lay hands upon Charles? To break him so? This boy who, insofar as Edwin could tell, hadn't a bad bone in his body? Whatever Charles was to him, soulmate or not (definitely, definitely not), he was his. He was supposed to be his, and soon he would be dead, and Edwin understood, now. Understood how people found themselves mired in Hell's fifth circle, swamped in wrath and rage. For no reason, no reason at all, those boys had taken Charles’ life without a care. Taken his life, and the colour from Edwin's eyes, all in one fell swoop. Soon both would be gone; and if Edwin ever found the hooligans responsible they'd have a formidable haunting on their hands.

"Nineteen thirteen, to..." he counted one, two, three, slowly. Collecting himself. "Nineteen sixteen."

"Bullshit." Charles cocked his head, a small smile of disbelief upon his lips. It was a charming expression, in its impertinence. "When did you go to school here for reals?"

"Nineteen thirteen to nineteen sixteen," Edwin repeated, slower. "I am dead, Charles."

Charles laughed. Edwin raised his eyebrows — and pretended not to be fascinated by the flash of not-red in Charles' mouth, his tongue and gums. What was the word for a light red, again? He was sure he'd read it somewhere...

The laughter died, and Charles' eyes went wider still. "...Oh."

There was more of that not-red than Edwin had thought, actually. The shells of Charles' ears, where the dawning light from the window glowed through translucent skin. He'd never considered that a person's ears might appear a different colour to the rest of them. How many secret tricks of the light had he been oblivious to all these years? How many more had he yet to discover? How many would he never get the chance to see for himself?

Just how much more could possibly be stolen from him?

"I... I dunno if this is, um, bad to ask, or what, but..." Charles swallowed. "How'd you die, mate?"

His lips, too, were redder than the rest of him; although that was fading, rapidly. Cooling at the edges. Edwin suspected that wasn't supposed to be the case.

"As I said," Edwin replied, sadly. "We had bullies, too."

~

"Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay."

~ Robert Frost

He had Charles move around again, though it was clear it would serve no purpose. He was delaying the inevitable. Charles was all but shutting down already; the occasional boost to his circulatory system was hardly going to bring him back from Death's door.

But perhaps Charles would beat the odds. Why not? He seemed a resilient fellow. Perhaps he would, indeed, outlast the night, see another day. Perhaps help would arrive. Perhaps Edwin could give him the push he needed to survive this if he only persisted.

Besides, he couldn't let Charles seize up and expire just yet. Charles had questions and damn it all, Edwin would answer them!

"Actually, you can move around any space however you like," Edwin explained. "It is not that you cannot touch things, you just cannot feel them."

A blessing in disguise, on occasion. Though Edwin had done his utmost to fill up this nook by the window with whatever musty blankets and futons he could salvage, he doubted the floor was comfortable. He himself sat with his knees tucked up to his chest, bracing for discomfort he couldn't feel. It was far from ideal. But he supposed that a hard floor was the least of Charles' problems.

Charles was rapidly declining. That cool tinge upon his lips was growing more prominent, his coughs harsher and more visceral-sounding. But here, at least, he seemed as snug as Edwin could make him. Swaddled like a babe, tucked up against the cluttered old shelves. Perhaps this was warm enough to get him through. It certainly seemed warm, with the yellow light burning merrily on.

It glowed not only off Charles' skin and his eyes, but a myriad small reflective surfaces strewn about the forgotten nook. Edwin was particularly taken with the shimmer of it off what appeared to be a dented instrument — possibly a tuba? — near Charles' head. Metals had always looked very similar to one another, in Edwin's grayscale vision. Now he could see the metal of the horn was a somewhat deeper shade than that of, say, the earring Charles wore. Finally, he could see first-hand the differences between the precious and non-precious metals. Alas, he had few of them to choose from, and little way of knowing which was which. He supposed it safe to assume that the instrument was brass, hence its orchestral designation.

But the metal Charles was wearing was his favourite so far. It had a little of the yellow about it, but richer, more lustrous. Edwin found himself quite transfixed by the way it fluttered and flickered in the light.

He was familiar with the saying all that glitters is not gold, of course. But for want of further evidence, gold seemed as good a guess as any.

"It's stupid, but... I think I'd miss kissing," said Charles. He looked right at Edwin, earring and eyes twinkling with the motion. He did have... handsome eyes. Edwin simply must figure out what colour they were. Of a similar hue but different tone to his hair, to the old wooden shelves at his back. "Do you miss kissing?"

"Mmm-mmmm," Edwin mumbled, with a small shake of his head. "No. Not as such."

How many people had Charles kissed, he wondered? Surely not an abundance, they were of a similar age. Had he kissed someone this month, this week? Today? Before his lips grew cold and chapped, when they were... oh, what was that word for a lighter red? Pink, yes, that was it.

Then again, perhaps he went about with painted lips in every day life. He already wore some sort of cosmetic on his eyes, after all, so maybe it wasn't a stretch for a modern young man. Imagine. A boy, staining the lips of his paramours with lipstick when he kissed them...

Goodness. The world really had moved on.

Edwin cleared his throat. "No," he repeated, firmly. "No, I don't miss kissing."

He supposed it was fine that Charles liked it, though. And maybe he'd get the chance to do it again. He just had to hold on a little longer, outlive the dawn chorus, until the teachers noticed his absence and sent people searching. Then he could keep on living, and kissing and whatever else he wished to do and Edwin...

Well, Charles probably wouldn't have much use for a ghost friend. But at least Edwin could keep the colours. Just a little while longer.

Charles chuckled. It was a bit of a sadder sound than the last time Edwin heard it. "Must've had some shit kisses in your life, mate."

Edwin smiled, tightly. "Something of that ilk."

"Shame we weren't mates," said Charles. "I'd've..."

"You'd have... what?"

A smattering of colour returned to Charles' face, then. It might've been a trick of the light, but Edwin could've sworn his cheeks warmed. "I'd've... well, I'd've found you someone to snog, wouldn't I?" he laughed, drawing his blanket closer around his chin. "Got some fit mates from my old school. And the birds proper fancy the brainy lads."

Edwin frowned. "The... birds?"

"Y'know. Lasses. Girls."

"Oh." For whatever reason, Edwin felt... disappointed. And not just at the apparently abysmal state of modern slang. "Yes. Girls."

He cocked his head, watching Charles carefully. He was a very good looking boy. And he wasn't Edwin's soulmate, couldn't be, but...

Edwin cleared his throat. "Charles?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I look..." He wavered. "...Unusual, at all? To you?"

Charles blinked. "Um. Well. Outfit's a bit retro." His eyes widened slightly, a dash of mortification. "Not being rude! I like it! It's... it's cool."

Edwin rolled his eyes. "I don't mean my outfit, I mean... have you noticed anything different about this room since I walked in?" he pressed.

"Well, yeah."

Edwin inhaled. "You have?"

"Yeah."

He leaned in closer. "What have you noticed exactly?"

Charles smiled weakly. "Well. It... feels a lot less lonely. With you here. Warmer, too." He chuckled. "Daft as that sounds. With you being dead, and all."

Edwin's fingers flexed on his knees — all he could do to stop himself hugging them, wretchedly, to his heart. "Yes," he agreed, dully. "Daft, indeed..."

~

"Green makes me think of silence, or maybe it’s loneliness. I get the feeling of a terribly distant star."

~ Kobo Abe

Edwin had only ever known one person ‘fortunate’ enough to meet her soulmate.

Aunt Florence had always been a bit of an odd duck. Flighty and fickle, a perpetual embarrassment to her brother — Edwin's father — whose job it had been to lend financial support to her spinster lifestyle. As she alleged it, she'd found her soulmate in the late eighteen seventies. For reasons undisclosed (to Edwin, at least) they had never married. Edwin had never had the pleasure of meeting her mysterious match.

She had always seemed very fascinated with the world around her, Aunt Florence. A trait she shared with Edwin; though while his interest lay in facts, hers lay in aesthetics. He’d seen her dedicate hours to the study of a singular rose petal in her garden. Edwin was told she could do quite beautiful things with oil paints, for those with eyes to see. They were passable, too, in black and white, but lacking dimension.

Once, when Edwin was about nine or so, Aunt Florence had taken his chin between her willowy fingers.

"What lovely eyes you have, my boy," she'd said, in a smoker's croak. Uncouth for a woman to smoke, particularly one of her social standing, but she'd never much cared what others thought of her. Her tobacco-stained nail had nipped his chin as she held him close. "Your mother's eyes. Sea green... You'll find yourself someone who can appreciate them, won't you?"

Edwin, of course, had had no idea what green was, and little desire to find out. Not if finding a so-called soulmate was the prerequisite condition. He was of an age where the fixation that grown-ups seemed to have on kissing one another was both vexing and perplexing to him. A phase of his life that, to be frank, he'd never entirely left behind. He'd extricated himself from Aunt Florence's talons as politely as possible, and given her a wide berth for the rest of her visit.

The next time he'd seen her, she had taken one look at his eyes, and burst into tears.

They all ended the same way, these soulmate stories. It was a law of nature. Death was not neat, or particularly fair. No matter how blissfully happy the pair, someone always had to leave first; and when they did, the colour left with them.

Some, at least, got time to enjoy it all. Before their love — and their colour — died away. A few decades, or years. Months, even.

Some, like Edwin, got far less. Hours, if that.

And some, like Charles Rowland, got no time at all.

~

"They're out of the dark's ragbag, these two

Moles dead in the pebbled rut,

Shapeless as flung gloves, a few feet apart —

Blue suede a dog or fox has chewed.

One, by himself, seemed pitiable enough,

Little victim unearthed by some large creature

From his orbit under the elm root.

The second carcass makes a duel of the affair:

Blind twins bitten by bad nature."

~ Sylvia Plath

"Shut up, mate. That is brills."

Edwin was inclined to agree. Especially now he could appreciate the full effect. He'd been aware, of course, that his form seemed to partially dissolve into a mirage when he passed through solid surfaces. He'd been unaware that the mirage seemed to possess a certain hue. Not unlike the hue beginning to bleed through the filthy window.

The pre-dawn light was different to the majority of the colours Edwin had identified so far. It was colder. Greyer. Pale and stark against the opaque black silhouette of the distant treeline (interesting, how the trees still seemed black in this light. He wondered if he'd get a chance to see this green he'd heard so much about before the night was over.) If Charles' face was warmed by the yellow lamplight, it was cooled at the edges by the seeping tones through the glass.

This, like the red and the blood, came with an easy reference point. Everybody knew that the sky was supposed to be blue.

Seemed Edwin finally had a word for the sickly tint of Charles' lips.

"Why don't you fall through the floor?" Charles asked, puzzled.

"There are many, many, so-called ghost rules," said Edwin, sagely. He had, after all, spent several weeks conducting his own personal study and compiling the rules himself. "I shan't waste your time listing them."

"Well, I only asked about the floor, didn't I?" said Charles, a teasing lilt to his lip. Honestly, the cheek of the man.

"Because I choose not to fall through the floor," Edwin replied, in utterly falsified exasperation. "Happy?"

Charles had a certain way of smiling; one that spread up from his grinning mouth and into his eyes. Despite the cold, miserable state of the rest of him they fairly shone with warmth, a merry humour. A knowing gleam that said 'look at us, in on the joke'.

Edwin had never been in on the joke, before.

Charles chuckled; and Edwin did likewise, helpless to the draw of it. The magnetic sound. It had his lips lifting of their own volition — even as his heart sank further and further into the floor.

The blue devils, that's what his father had called it. On those rare occasions when he acknowledged Mother's low mood, or found Edwin weeping silently upon his bed. "You've just got the blue devils, my boy. Chin up, now, and soldier on. You've better things to do than mope."

He could feel them, now, those blue devils upon his shoulder. Cold, heavy, and the colour of Charles' bloodless lips. Weighing Edwin down like stones in his pockets. He hadn't felt hot or cold in decades, but now he felt as Charles must have done with the chill lake pressing down upon him, filling his lungs. And unlike Charles, he wasn't sure he possessed the tenacity to break the surface before the bubbles stopped.

He'd fought his way from the pits of Hell itself, and yet this climb seemed more insurmountable by far. He was no longer fighting his way from the dark to the light. There was no light above the surface of this icy water, no light at all. The light was here, the entire spectrum of it; above was only grey, grey, grey, as far as the eye could see.

"Oi," said Charles. He looked so very tired; but still inquisitive to a fault. "What other cool stuff can you do, then?"

Edwin huffed. "I can travel through mirrors, if you must know."

Charles' blue lips parted, breath escaping on a wonderstruck wheeze. "Wicked."

He ought to be more careful with his breaths. He couldn't have had all that many left to draw.

~

"We love the sight of the brown and ruddy earth; it is the color of life, while a snow-covered plain is the face of death."

~ John Burroughs

Charles Rowland passed away in the small hours of the morning. Edwin didn't even need to look up from the page; he just watched the pinkish tint bleed from his own ghostly fingertips, and made a deduction.

Even before his passing, Edwin hadn't looked directly at Charles in some time. He hadn't been able to bring himself to. The colour in his ailing new friend had diminished all but completely, his skin a sallow patina, his lips a cracked grey slate.

Edwin had only come to know colour on this night, and already he could feel its absence like a hole in his heart. He understood, now, why Aunt Florence had dragged herself so mournfully through her twilight years. Going through the motions of existing. Colour, for Aunt Florence, had been life; without it, there was simply no point living.

Somehow, Edwin found his voice, and he read on. Because Edwin was no Aunt Florence, arty and flighty and prone to outpourings of passion. Edwin was his father's son; he soldiered on. No matter what.

But the ache in his chest persisted, despite his best efforts to quash it. There had been so much yet to see. He'd never witnessed the colour purple — an expensive hue of which he'd heard a great many appreciative things. He'd never seen a flower, any flower, in full bloom, or watched one of those famous sunsets.

In the end, he never even got to see what his aunt meant about his eyes. But he had no reflection anymore, so. Perhaps that one was always a lost cause.

On the topic of lost causes; there was someone else in this room with him, yet. Someone who'd lost far more than a fleeting glimpse of creation in technicolour.

""— I cease to believe,"" Edwin finished reading with a soft, forced chuckle. To no response. He looked up to find Charles standing tall, gaze turned to the window. It was the first time all night he'd been without his blanket; and the first time he'd borne not the slightest shiver.

Well. At least he would never be cold again.

"Not enjoying this one?" Edwin prompted, gently. "Carrados the blind detective was just becoming quite popular in my day."

When Charles turned around, of course Edwin already knew what he would find. Knew what his own eyes would fall upon when they followed Charles’ gaze.

But knowing did not prepare him for the reality. The cold, desaturated tableau of Charles Rowland's demise, illuminated like a crime scene in the stark white light of the lantern. How a person so vital, so vibrant as Charles should be without blood and colour defied all reason. And yet there he lay; bereft of hue, and of life.

Edwin swallowed, and closed the book gently upon Max Carrados. "When you could see me, I knew it was too late."

Charles was silent. For the first time all night. Silent as the grave.

"But I simply..." Edwin hesitated. "I did not want to scare you."

In the corner of Edwin's eye, the lantern guttered and died. Good. It didn't seem right; all that light upon Charles, and not a drop of warmth in it.

"Well. Glad you didn't say anything." Charles' voice was stronger, now. How different he sounded, without the rattle of lake water in his lungs.

Charles looked at his hands. As did Edwin. How strange they appeared, in the bleak grey of Edwin's impoverished eyes. How unsettlingly close to the pallor his skin had taken on in his death throes. And yet he wasn't pallid, not in the slightest. Standing tall, unchained from his ailing flesh, he was more wholly and healthily Charles than Edwin had yet seen him.

"Doesn't feel like I imagined. Being dead," said Charles, thoughtful. "Feels okay, doesn't it?"

In truth, there was nothing remotely 'okay' about this situation. Edwin felt... robbed. He felt robbed. Because he would never know the colour of Charles' skin when it wasn't frozen grey, or beaten black and blue. He'd never see this Charles, standing tall in the dawning sunlight, the way he was designed to be seen. The way he was chosen, by God or fate or an impossible quirk of biology to be seen, by Edwin. Only by Edwin. For he was Edwin's, no more could he deny it.

And Charles would never see Edwin. Not the way Edwin saw him. Because by the time they met, it was already too late. Because in a wretched twist of fate, Charles’ soulmate — his unfortunate, unorthodox soulmate — was dead in the ground before Charles was even born.

And Edwin had thought Hell to be cruel and unusual punishment.

"I sincerely wish we could have been friends for longer," said Edwin, dropping the magazine and standing from his seat on the old trunk. "But Death will come for you, now. You should go with her when she arrives."

He turned, and began his brisk march to the door. What's done is done; and Charles was, unmistakably, done. Done in and done for, done in just about every sense.

So Charles would be off, now. He'd be off, and Edwin would just have to carry him, too. In his head, with his facts and his torments and a thousand tiny heartbreaks. What was another one, in the grand scheme of things? What else was there to do in this fugitive afterlife but keep his chin up, and soldier on?

"Well I'm not ready, am I?” Charles called out. “I don't wanna go somewhere else, yet."

Edwin faltered. Turned. Charles was watching him.

"What if I stay here for a bit with you, instead?" said Charles, preposterously.

"Then you will always be running from her," was Edwin's quick, logical response. But Charles was still watching him with those... those damnably appealing eyes, and he felt the need to defend his case. "Also, I'm not good with other people. And I only just came back to this school after escaping Hell, so. I'm out of practice, to be perfectly frank. So. When the light comes. You stay, and I go."

He smiled, tightly, and turned once more. There. He'd avoided mentioning Hell all night, but it was done, now. No boy with a lick of sense would —

"Well, I'm aces with other people."

… He simply could not be serious.

"Pretty chuffed you got out of Hell, mate," Charles continued, maddeningly blasé. "That sounds hard. Nice job."

Edwin turned on him, incredulous. "That is not how you make decisions," he snapped, taking a challenging step towards Charles. "Just based on whatever you happen to be feeling in the moment!"

"It's how I lived my life."

Charles turned his head, looked down at his own body. Edwin couldn't bring himself to do likewise.

"Doesn't seem all that different now."

Charles looked at Edwin, unflinching. And what a different creature he was, free of cold and pain. Lithe but lax, eyes slightly narrowed in almost catlike contemplation of Edwin. He stood before a hellbound soul, near naked and freshly dead, and yet the easygoing slope of his narrow shoulders bore no strain.

He shrugged, nonchalant. White light glimmered from his dangling earring. "Looks like you're stuck with me.”

For a moment it was nigh on impossible to believe he hadn't seen it, too. Hadn't seen the spectrum unfold when Edwin said his name. Because how else could someone look at anyone, let alone Edwin, with such certainty? As if he'd never been more sure of anything or anyone in his tragically short life.

Breathtaking was not a word Edwin liked to use lightly. In fact, he preferred not to use it at all. Who had ever seen something so rare, so staggeringly beautiful they'd lost their breath? It was the sort of word Aunt Florence would have used; flowery and hyperbolic.

It seemed Edwin owed her yet another apology.

Light flared in the corner. Their eyes leapt to it. It was of no colour that Edwin could see and yet he could feel it, deep in his soul, he knew its shape and colour; blue. A kinder, softer blue than that of bloodless lips and dreary skies. The wild blue yonder that he was barred from forevermore; the one that awaited Charles Rowland with open arms.

Charles looked at Edwin.

Edwin looked at Charles.

Charles smiled, soul glowing lantern-bright in those dark, confident eyes. He didn't move, not towards the light or away from it, but he held out his hand. Planted like a tree, unbending, unbowed. His roots sunk deep into the loamy earth of life; his branches beckoning Edwin into their boughs.

Oh, thought Edwin, when he understood — didn't see, simply understood — the colour that had been gazing back at him all along. That's the word I was looking for.

~

Thirty years passed, fading into memory, and with them faded the sting. It was hard to mourn the loss of colour when one could scarcely remember what it looked like in the first place. Those fleeting hours blended and blurred amidst the grey years, lost to time; a single hand-tinted frame in a hundred miles of monochrome celluloid.

Though he tried to remember, Edwin struggled to visualise the yellow light that had bathed their faces; the gold that glinted at the cut of Charles' jaw. Pink lips, red veins, the blue stain of death. Such things were impossible to note down in a world of black ink and white pages, and his aide-mémoires soon failed him. The colours fluttered away into the past, scattered to the winds of memory like his mother's smile, his father's voice, Aunt Florence's smoky laughter and the roses she painted on the guest room walls.

But though he could not recall the exact shade of Charles' eyes, nor compare them to any other — not even his own — Edwin knew something about them. Just as he knew Death's light shone heavenly blue. And for once in Edwin's long and tormented afterlife, he felt truly fortunate. Because he'd been allowed to experience only a fraction of what the visible spectrum had to offer; colours he could count on less than two hands.

And yet somehow, by some stroke of luck, he'd seen the best one nonetheless.

~

"At breakfast that morning I had been struck by the lively dissonance of its colours. But that was no longer the point. I was not looking now at an unusual flower arrangement. I was seeing what Adam had seen on the morning of his creation - the miracle, moment by moment, of naked existence."

~ Aldous Huxley

~~

Thank you for coming on this journey with me, my darlings 💛 Love to hear your thoughts! Reminder to check out Olly's amazing gifs! This one took a little while to come together, bc in my first draft Edwin's feelings/progression were a bit all over the place. But I realised that all the sections of the attic scene (not including the very first one/my inserted flashback about Aunt Florence) could track along the five stages of grief quite nicely and that gave me a good framework to loosely follow, starting in his denial of the implications and ending in devastated acceptance of what he's lost. As to why he didn't like, *tell* Charles, well, what would you do? Be honest? If you were a dead Edwardian ghost boy and you found out your actual soulmate was not only another boy, but a doomed one? One who isn't even seeing what you're seeing. Maybe he thought Charles wouldn't believe him, or would take it badly. Maybe he thought telling him would sway him unfairly into staying when Edwin believed he should go. I think he will tell him, one day. And Charles is gonna be PISSED that he kept it from him so long xD For the quotes, I tried to stick to things Edwin could possibly have read, so pre-1989 things, as I like the idea of him using literature as a framework for understanding what he's seeing. It was really interesting writing about colour from the perspective of someone with no reference for it! Some of the quotes might have ended up anachronistic by a couple of years, tbh people are *shit* at sourcing their quotes and while I could source authors easy enough it was hard sometimes to isolate what specific book/anthology the piece came from, or what year it was published. If I'd have had more time I would have done more digging! Anyway, that's about all I got right now. I dunno when I'll be back, probably (hopefully) in a few weeks with the next chapter of Lonely Bones. In the meantime please, feel free to continue chatting with me in the comments, on my tumblr, come be a pal, I've had the time of my life with y'all this week and I'm not ready to get off this train just yet! Until next time! 💛

[muffin-snakes-art]

Hi. So I’m not a Layton guy and all THAT familiar with the lore, but a close friend of mine is, and as far as I understand Layton has a dead girlfriend? Can I please know who Magolor’s dead girlfriend equivalent in this AU is? I’m legitimately so curious. /pos

I have been thinking A LOT about which Kirby character would fit Claire's (dead gf) role. In the end I chose Taranza bc I feel he and Claire are the most similar in character. They're both really good at what they do (Claire: brilliant scientist - Taranza: immaculate mage), quick thinkers, humble, and have a lot of love to give.

I'll explain more under the cut (along with images of Claire and younger Layton for design ref), but Taranza could've also fit in as a couple other characters bc I made Sectonia as Descole. In this essay I will-

In Kirby there's an interesting connection between Magolor and Taranza. Primarily based on that one Magolor portrait in that haunted house in Triple Deluxe (like ok huh????) and also that one Star Allies Wave 3 illustration.

With that portrait existing, to me it implies that Magolor has met Taranza and Sectonia before the events of the game somehow. This theory is further backed up with the Old Friend mask in Merry Magoland. Magolor would HAVE to have known what Joronia looked like before her transformation, and that means he would also have met Taranza too at that time. I could be completely wrong about this HAHA but those are my thoughts on that.

When Wave 3 was announced, I didn't think much on the connection of the 3 characters other than they were from the first three core games of modern Kirby. But then they posted this art piece.

It's so cute how Magolor and Taranza combined their magic to create a shield for Kirby!! Both of their respective magic circle designs are melded together perfectly. Did they practice together on their own to perform this or was that a lucky in-the-moment occurrence? Either way, they must know and understand each other's magic abilities to a decent extent. Like how both Claire and Layton understands each other's careers and goals. Layton is a professor in archeology. Claire is a scientist researching time travel and other stuffs. Those fields go hand in hand, and the two do what they can to support and improve each other's passions.

Now onto the other characters that Taranza would've fit as and reasons why I ended up putting him as Claire.

So I put Sectonia as Descole. Descole has an extremely loyal partner/butler/henchman named Raymond. Yea Taranza would easily fit as him, but a few things made me decide not to. Descole may appear cold and not show it, but even in his madness he cares for Raymond. He does order Raymond around, but he still gives Raymond freewill to do as he pleases. Sectonia is very controlling over Taranza. If Raymond were to make mistakes, I don't see Descole punishing him for them. Sectonia would. She blasted Taranza away for mistaking Dedede as the hero of the lower world. Maybe when she was Joronia she wouldn't and wasn't as controlling but....I feel we don't have the full story on their relationship. I also focused more on Sectonia's overall in-game personality. I absolutely love seeing the two spiders enjoying each other's company and having fun, but in-game we never really got what Joronia really thought of Taranza. As Sectonia, she saw him as a disposable servant. You can say her personality was corrupted by the mirror, but I personally believe the mirror actually amplified her negative feelings and views. Negative emotions are brought up a lot in Kirby lore. I personally find that more interesting than just the mirror possessing her or something. I may be very wrong on that, but those are what I thought about.

Last reason, which is uhm, Raymond saves Descole from death FGDHSJ I don't think I need to elaborate on that. It would be so neat and ironic to have Taranza as Raymond, but I also wanna keep things in line as possible with Kirby lore canon.

Yet, who could be Raymond then? Idk fgdsj that's why I struggled so much. If Claire wasn't an option, Taranza would've been Raymond.

Now the one other character Taranza could've fit as is Descole's late wife. His wife was never mentioned by name, to my memory, and didn't have a huge role in the games. There's not enough information on who she was. I wanted to give Taranza a fitting role in personality and importance.

So in the end after all that thinking, Claire it is! I also don't know who else in the Kirby cast would fit her better and be Professor Magolor's late partner. One may think Susie would fit Claire more, but I've already decided she will be Emmy. Emmy's and Susie's personalities are very similar to me. And Emmy's lore? Fits quite well with Susie's. I'll draw that at some point.

So uh yea. Thanks for reading all that if you did! Hope you enjoyed the insanity

[isaacz]

not a big piece but i really wanted to share my ideas/headcanons for omori character design's! (already apologize for any english errors, i'm writting this at 2 am on a school night help) -HEADSPACE- -My first idea was to have all of headspace characters to look like cartoons, with wompy anatomy and shapes, it's even the reason why i try my best to draw eyes in the omori style, normally i wouldn't but i think it has it's charm. If i ever animated them aswell they would just have very exaggerated movement and reactions, like old cartoons -All of the main cast has different shades of purple! except for basil and omori ofc, basil being shades of green/cyan and omori being shades of darkblue/blue (in game lore it makes completely sense why he doesn't have color but for painting+drawing purposes i made him shades of blue to make the illustrations more interesthing haha)

Might be obvious by now but the characters have lil stars on their hairs and tips of their body parts (props to the omori fandom you guys are creative af, and mostly zipsunz cuz i got it from him) omori ofc doesn't have that BUT he does have a lil shade of dark blue that goes all the way to the end of his hands, i wanted to do that to kinda make a ref to black space, kinda like he has a part of blackspace with him at all times (also yes that hair light is supossed to be something's eye)

-FARAWAY- -WEll if headspace characters are cartoony, then faraway characters seems more real (as real as it can get on my style at least), it's just omori characters in my original style that's it -For sunny i headcanon that he had to constantly cut his hair while in isolation cuz long hair reminded of his sister, so when i draw him i try to make the back look as shitty as possible, cuz let's be honest i don't think he would cut his hair properly... (this btw was completely taken from the amazing headcanon comic made by v3ratrix, i really liked the idea so i wanted to include on my own drawings aswell! thanks v3ratrix!) -i like to make kel's hair curly cuz.. i like him with curly hair, and since him and hero are brothers, i made hero with a bit of curly hair aswell! they also have opposite moles from each other :)

-Since i have no idea wtf happend for Aubrey's eyes to turn blue, i like to imagine that she has to use glasses but uses contacts most of the time

-I like to think Kel and Hero are hispanic, and Mari and Sunny japanese american ! (cuz it fits them and also KEL AND HERO SPEAKING SPANISH SUPREMACY!!) -Basil learns portuguese later on because he thinks it's funny that his name sounds like Brazil (ofc i'm going to have a self indulgent headcanon his name is literally perfect for it!) THIS IS IT FOR ALL OF MY HEADCANONS :D tysm for reading until the end, i appreciate people liking my ideas and i hope i can make proper pieces in the future, for now i'm procastinating on projects and drawings in general PLEASE make sure to check out both v3ratrix comic and zipsunz artwork that were mentioned in this post, they're very good and i don't want to take credit from stuff that i got from them alright buh bye !

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

[jabberwockprince]

happy pride! here's the fullbody refs for spina venatores <3 I still need to work on other stuff for their artfight profiles like their i2 illustrations and battle chibis but soon ..... s o o n ....

extras and rambles under the cut o7

reworked their manus fits from this old ref and tweaked the colors to make them more blue bc they looked SO purple on certain screens

venison has little to no changes, other than their scrapped i2 outfit, but its really funny how they have 3 fucking refs. 3 of them. plus a whole fucking obsolete i2 garment illustration

favoritism fucking SUCKS

mutton is pretty much exactly the way i pictured her so shes perfect and gave me zero issues <3. then there's chevon who is annoying and wants to exclusively dress up like some dramatic pirate/vampire but his fit reminds me so much of julian the arcana i cant get that out of my head.

poultry and veal are the ones who changed the most in their i2 garments, cause it hit me that poultry cannot be exclusively tied to vertin's team like venison and chevon on account of poultry being a human--she needs ties to the foundation or foundation adjacent groups like laplace to survive storms like ezra (laplace being the one organization she would love to join). but then it also hit me that she would not be allowed to join laplace THAT easily on account of. the horrors the crimes and whatnot, so for now she's on probation working as madam Z's assistant

the arrangement also works wonders bc veal is the one who has the most trouble graduating from the school of discipline, and spina venatores consists of ppl who Cannot Be Separated. so having the two somewhat close and still in touch is good <3 it prevents a lot of accidents. veal wears the foundation uniform just because they want to match with poultry

it also works bc venison's colors outside of manus are very similar to the foundation's palette, so i get to keep the visual dynamic between them, poultry and veal hehehoho

im STILL debating on how to organize their respective banners, since there's 5 characters instead of the usual 3. my brain is still trying to make their event coherent and its a mess in there AUGH. i could always make venison a limited character bc theyre my beloved blorbo. or make veal a limited character bc it would be very fuckign funny to have them randomly shapeshift into a different 6* that you own and just have that be their mechanic

i could also add aianteia to make the numbers even and have four 6* and two 5* but. then i would have to make refs for that bastard. and i dont have it in me. WHATEVER, I'LL FIGURE IT OUT!!!

[beeshoesometimesdraws]

Yall wanted to see stuff from my not tsams related dca au so here ya go!

I’m remaking the ref sheets for all the characters because most of em are pretty old now and can’t even be considered proper ref sheets- so I’ll post em as I finish em

Starting off with my version of Bloodmoon aka Harvest aka Harvey

Some facts about him under the cut 👇

As shown above in his ref, Harvest is a Halloween event animatronic that does shows and tells spooky stories and performs as a scare actor of sorts (I think of him as acting like that one scare actor, Bobbins the clown I think the name is; still being scary but also silly and lighthearted when he wants/needs to be)

Harvest is only technically “active” in the public eye from late August-the end of October though he’s allowed to wander around after hours year round and acts as double security alongside the staff bots and main security bot Blackhole

Harvest is the tallest of the dca model animatronics at 7’5

Harvest’s third eye was inspired by Narinder aka The One Who Waits from cotl because at the time when I created his first design I had been following artists posting lots of cotl related art and it influenced me

I want to reiterate that this au is not related to tsams and that Harvest is a completely different character from the tsams blood twins; he does not have a need nor obsession for blood and he’s pretty chill though he is still a mischievous and feral bastard (think of him like a lazy feral cat that just kinda chills but can still be scary when he wants/needs to be)

Also all of the animatronics in this au including the dca models have very animated features and can open and close and move their mouths and eyes (aka none of them are biblically accurate)

Btw any questions about this au I will gladly answer as I draw the rest of the refs (also I will still answer centaur au asks! I’m just more focused on this rn so it may take a bit- apologies)

[thatdeadaquarius]

Reader that can emit sounds from their memory(like as an aura)

Walk into a room? Why do I hear boss music

Comedic timing? Fuck yeah.

Bored? Jumpscare noise.

Zhongli talking? Jeopardy theme.

Someone is annoying? Earrape.

Think about it!

Hello! I’m the 12th Harbinger, aka as CHIL- bitch shut the fuck up, WHATS UP ITS YA BOY AQUARIUSSS- /ref

lmao imagine you walking into a room like this in teyvat, with like that audio I SAVE BY GIVING IT CPR- TIGHT AS VIRGIN BOY DONT GET NERVOUS-

(also ill stop apologizing for the late replies to these, bc as we all know by now that im slow and u will get answered eventually i promise tumblr most likely didnt delete u guys asks im just hoarding them LMAO)

I’ve been super busy running in circles so sorry about ghosting! I still very much enjoy and love u guys and love seeing you guys enjoy my stuff :’) 

Still cant believe that, but thank you!

JEOPARDY THEME MUSIC WHEN ZHONGLI TALKS

HE’D BE SO CONFUSED

THINKIN HE GOT AN ANCIENT CURSE HE DOESNT KNOW ABT PUT ON HIM OR SMTH BC HE’S ALWAYS BEING STALKED BY THIS SONG-

(tbh unless the person is super observant I dont think most ppl would get that it’s YOU causing this chaos lmao)

◇

Like I can see Zhongli eventually getting it lol, other ppl I could see after the first few weeks of interacting with you (esp bc you mix it up, honestly it was only bc u kept playing the jeopardy theme over and over when Zhongli ranted on too long that he got it was you 💀):

Heizou (he’s the best detective on all of Inazuma’s islands, ofc he got it! no he will not acknowledge that he totally thought you were hiding a very musical tanuki somewhere on your person at all times lol)

◇

Alhaitham and Cyno (haitham took like, two hours of walking around town with you and knew, bc he’s a little know-it-all lazy bastard like that, and Cyno is actually just really aware, despite what most ppl think, he’s the General Mahamatra and not just a regular Mahamatra for a reason after all)

◇

Tighnari (i stg he can like, smell when bullshittery is happening in his vicinity …or... hear?)

◇

Venti (unsurpringly, he’s totally in love with this power of yours, i mean he definitely loves you cares about you a lot he says, but you’re starting to think he’s just lying to butter you up into pranking Diluc, Barbara, Jean, and really the entirety of Mondstadt more often  including Zhongli just so he can laugh until he’s on the ground again, also he definitely once asked you to make a dragon sound that’s the equivalent of shouting FUCK at Dvalin when he was flying overhead one day)

◇

Hmm

Hm hm hmmmm

Who elseee, i need a characcctterrr lisstttt…

Albedo (duh, he’s albedo, you think he has an entirely too thick folder dedicated to your recent obsessions, you rant a lot about it while playing and also he can access your browsing history 👀, and he somehow doesn't know that about you?? You’re like, literally one of his long-term, there-for-life, has-bought-a-house-for-free-in-his-head-you- arent-even-on-rent-anymore, hyperfixations or special interests. Autistic!Albedo is autistic, Because I Am Your God, And I Say It Is So.)

◇

Dehya (always knows when its you walking around near her bc you like to listen to your old world’s songs too often when you arent pranking bitches, she actually rlly likes it and your music tastes…)

☆

HOLY FUCK SPEED RUN BC GOD THERE’S TOO MANY BITCHES WANNA BE YOUR BABY, RIDING AROUND IN A DAMN MERCEDES-

OKAY-

SO not all in the same way or at the same time, or even the same length of time did they realize you literally change background music or some shit so I’ll let you just- you know okay- like you get it- you get it.

Xiao, Kazuha, Kaeya, Diluc, Ayato, Yae Miko, Keqing, Qiqi, Klee, Sara, Kuki, Nahida, Ningguang, Rosaria, Scaramouche/Babygirl, Dainsleif, Kokomi, Xinyan, Yun Jin, Yelan. 

Jfc got the whole damn pride flag up here

Anyway everybody else outta luck, at least takes em a month or longer to get it lol

♡

Sorry abt the end there i didnt feel like writing out all those bitches bc the few I did before were already longer than I thought they’d be…

Also, I am posting these spam of drafts (and that old follower 100+ event possession headcanons in prep for the next 2 weeks bc I will be really busy, again :/

Got spring break shenanigans this week, then I’ll be running around like a cat with zoomies bc im getting ready to install/actually submit my artworks for the gallery exhibition! 

…wish me luck or prayers or anything good from any god you believe in, I need the strength. 

With love, safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist