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novthirty · 3 months ago

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🐦‍⬛ OUT OF BOUNDS — you get isekai-d into the n109 zone [chapter two]

synopsis — the monotony of your university days is interrupted by a stroke of misfortune, one which lands you in the world of love and deepspace, the game you had been casually playing for the previous months. with no way to return home, sylus offers you the job of being his personal secretary. — a continuation of the one-shot “out of bounds”

pairing — sylus x non-mc! reader

tags — reader is not mc, isekai/transmigration, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slice of life, boss/employee relationship, slow burn

a/n — this chapter did not come easily to me</33 finals has been kicking my ass but i’m near the finish line at least!! for now here is a plate of teeth rotting fluff with a side of pining 💕 taking my time to develop their relationship, since it would take a lot for sylus’s heart to be swayed by someone other than the mc. but of course we’ll be back to the full angst by the next chapter ☺️☺️

ao3 | masterlist | requests are open! series masterlist | part one | part three

chapter two: pendulum— spring blooms even in the barren cityscape of the n109 zone, and before you know it, you’ve carved yourself a place in sylus’s life. but like a pendulum stuck in perpetual motion, the two of you swing back and forth— growing closer and retreating with every movement. wc: 6.8k

The arrival of spring marks four months since you stormed into Sylus’s life, upheaving everything in your path. From the moment you quite literally landed in his world, you had been a wildcard— blindsiding him at every turn. But the first time you intentionally surprise him comes when the clock strikes twelve on April 18, and he enters his office to find a cake on his desk. Decorated in black and maroon frosting, it’s lined with edible glitter and topped with his name in crooked cursive, and a crow-shaped candle, to boot. He takes a swipe— it’s a hint of cranberry and… wine?

Moments after, you stride in from behind with Luke and Kieran, carrying gifts and wearing patterned party hats, singing a terribly off-key rendition of the birthday song.

“Happy birthday, Sylus! Make a wish!”

He blows the candles and makes a wish. (There’s only ever been one thing he’s truly desired.)

“Do you like the cake? The chefs helped me decorate it!” You say as you slice it into even triangles, giving him the largest piece.

Luxurious as his precious office may be, it’s still a tight fit with the whole Onychinus family crammed inside. Luke and Kieran occupy the side chairs while you’re perched on his desk with Mephisto on your shoulder, wearing his own red party hat. (The crow stares menacingly at the crow-shaped candle left to the wayside.) You’re sitting right in his periphery, and his eyes drag downward from your oversized sweater, down to your exposed thighs clad in only shorts. His cheeks heat up and he averts his gaze, glad that you’re all too caught up in conversation to notice.

You hop off the desk once you clear your plate, clapping your hands together, “It’s present time!”

Luke and Kieran are dramatically solemn as they hand over their present, wiping away a fake tear, “We battled against hundreds of bidders to secure this for our beloved boss.”

Sylus takes the thin present, crudely wrapped with a cartoonish dinosaur paper, unravelling it to discover a vinyl record. A vintage edition, the last one missing from his collection of a late artist, one that you had likened to someone named Frank Sinatra whenever he would play it on the office sound system.

“It’s acceptable,” He says, but the twins have been with him enough to know that it’s Sylus language for ‘Thank you for this amazing gift, I will treasure it until my dying days.’ Or at least, that’s what they tell themselves as they dramatically jump in joy.

He initially didn’t expect you to bring a present— although with your personality, he should’ve known you’d be appalled at the idea of coming empty-handed. Throughout the celebration, his eyes are immediately drawn to your uncharacteristic nervousness, which you hide well under the veneer of a joyous mood. But he can spot you fidgeting with the strings of the ribbon, the way you hesitantly place the gift on his desk. It unnerves him to see your usual force of nature dimmed, looking like a scolded puppy with your tail low and eyes sheepish.

The package is thick and lumpy in his hand, yet perfectly wrapped with a ribbon to top it off. (You wouldn’t have stood for anything less.) He delicately undoes the ribbon, carefully unwrapping the gift to find a soft knitted cardigan, with a embroidered patch of a crow sewn onto the breast pocket.

“Did you make this yourself?” He asks, looking back up at you.

“Yeah,” You answer, shifting hesitantly from your spot on the desk.

You don’t have a lot to your name in this world, and for a man like Sylus— who can summon nearly anything he desires with a snap of his fingers— there wasn’t a whole lot you could give. So instead, you resorted to your knitting needles, pouring your heart and effort into every stitch using some of the softest yarn you knew of (which took several spools of, considering his size, and made a significant dent in your wallet). But the days leading up to the surprise celebration still wracked you with nerves. Would it look too frumpy on him? Would it look too simple? Would a man who prefers opulence even appreciate such a simple gift?

But Sylus runs his fingers carefully over each delicate stitch, unable to comprehend how every inch of this cardigan was made with your own bare hands. People will bend over backwards to earn his favor, but no one has ever put so much genuine effort and care just to make him happy, on such a measly event as a birthday, no less.

He doesn’t know what to say as you await his reaction, caught off guard by the heartwarming gesture you’ve just given him. And so, he ends up detracting, “How did you get my measurements?” He narrows his eyes at you mischievously.

He spots the tick of your eyebrow as your face morphs from nervousness into annoyance. “I send in orders for your replacement clothes when they get ruined on missions,” His eyes dance with mischief as he looks away in mock skepticism. “What's that look for? How do you think I got them?!” It turns into banter— as it always does between the two of you— but inwardly, you feel relief when he wears the cardigan immediately.

The celebration is a silly endeavor that lasts no more than an hour before he kicks everyone out of his office. But try as he might, he can’t wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the day— nor does he take off the cardigan.

When May comes, you rope him into the preparations for Luke and Kieran’s birthday. Due to your incessant nagging, he’s since downloaded your shared digital calendar— complete with monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly agendas— and chosen to ignore it. “The calendar exists for you to be on time,” You seethe whenever he steps into his office late, the little shit smirking as if you didn’t just rearrange his schedule to hell and back for that one hour-long meeting he missed. However, that doesn’t mean he’s exempt from any festivities you enforce upon the household.

The twins’ celebration is a significantly more chaotic affair than his, involving a two tiered cake and a booking for a laser tag arena. The event is more so you and Sylus babysitting the two hellions as they wreak havoc upon the civilians unfortunate enough to encounter them. It ends with a trip to the medical ward and a formal apology to the owner of the arena. But despite the casualties, it’s the most fun Luke and Kieran have had since they joined Onychinus. (Fun that wasn’t self-orchestrated, at least).

Your presence brings a liveliness to his found family, something that grounds you all in this high-paced line of work. A presence that, little by little, seeps into his life to the point he can no longer imagine living without it.

—————————————————————

“Is this payback for nagging you too much?” You huff after squeezing yourself into another ruffled monstrosity.

He lounges on the plush sofa like it’s his throne, swirling a glass of wine in his hands as he watches your suffering like live entertainment. He belongs here, you think, surrounded by opulence and marbled floors. A dragon surrounded by treasures.

As if it wasn’t enough that you make sure his life keeps running smoothly, Sylus recently enlightened you with the task of accompanying him to the next protocore auction. With your closet still bare of anything other than essentials, you tried to beg off the event with the excuse of having nothing to wear— only for him to drag you to a fancy boutique. You should’ve expected it from the rich bastard. “If you don’t want to go, you can just tell me. No need to make excuses,” He drawled. “It's not like you have a choice either way, Miss Secretary.”

Being raised in a middle-class household, your eyes widened at the array of extravagant dresses brought out for your perusal. The fanciest place you had been to up until now was the chain seafood restaurant down the block from your family home. The staff led you to a private dressing room, where you were now trying on a number of lavish dresses and shoes.

“Slave driver,” You cursed him under your breath, as you strapped yourself into another pair of heels behind the curtain.

“No one's forcing you to wear heels,” He calls from the lounging area, hearing your struggle. “With me by your side, you could wear pajamas and no one would dare say a word.”

You stood up, balancing yourself on the thin heel and peeking out the curtain to glare at him, “I have willpower. If you’re dragging me to a fancy auction I will not look unprofessional next to you.”

He rolls his eyes, “Sure, darling. Whatever you say.”

You muttered that to yourself for the next hour or so, I have willpower! as you tried on a number of ridiculously uncomfortable (especially for how expensive they were) garments. You believed yourself a little less with each one.

Eventually, you settle on an elegant black dress, a practical and comfortable choice that would fit multiple occasions. He insists that you could have chosen something more extravagant; but considering this was on Sylus’s card, you didn’t want to push your luck with the price tags. He goes to the cashier to pay as you’re changing, only for you to come out to thrice the number of bags.

“This is not… just the dress and heels I tried on,” Your shoulders tense, peering into the bags and spotting the other pieces you mentioned liking, as well as more luxurious everyday items you never even glanced at, considering the purpose of your trip here was for formal wear.

“I figured it would be practical. This won’t be the last event you’ll be accompanying me to, after all,” You internally withered as he smirked at you knowingly, “Besides, you did say your closet was looking bare, hm? Let's fix that.”

What you thought would be a quick trip turns into hours as he insists on buying you new clothes. “Everyone employed under Onychinus has a uniform budget,” He reasons with you.

For mission gear and weapon repairs, you want to retort. You narrow your eyes every time you come out of the changing room to see twice the number of things you initially picked out. Your discomfort only grows with each stop, every shopping bag serving as a reminder of the exorbitant costs.

By the time you get back to the compound, you intentionally look away from any receipts for your own peace of mind, instead getting to the pile of work waiting for you at home. (Home. When did this place become home?) Memorizing important guests and clients, researching proper etiquette, learning enough about protocores to not seem like a total fool at Sylus’s side. “I'm a liberal arts student, I wasn’t built for this shit,” You mutter as you flip through scientific records that look like a foreign language. You miss when protocores were just colored shapes that made your team overpowered.

Even with all the preparation you’ve done, you still find yourself wracked with nerves on the day of the auction. Though, you think you’re doing a good job of hiding it, sipping wine at Sylus’s side as he peruses the various protocores on display. Fortunately, you haven’t had to do much talking; your role so far has been taking notes and pulling up important documents when needed.

You feel out of place in the lavish ballroom, but then again, you feel out of place in this world in general. You manage to mingle and socialize with the contacts you’re familiar with, but as the hours pass you start regretting your choice of footwear. Sylus, of course, notices. “Let's take a break,” He says halfway through the night. You follow him to a lounging room, taking a seat as he leaves to grab drinks, when a man approaches you.

You vaguely know of him, having communicated with him— or rather, his secretary— through emails on official Onychinus business before. It’s a light conversation, he asks you where you’re from, why you’re here. You can tell his intentions by the way he leans forward, eyes glittering as his cologne invades your senses (You desperately try not to breathe in the overpowering scent). You decide to indulge him as you wait for Sylus to return; he seems nice enough, after all.

Right until you mention that you’re Sylus’s secretary. All of a sudden, his gaze turns steely and derisive— as if you’re no longer a prize to be won, but something beneath him. His compliments turn into insinuations of your character, “Some people really know how to… position themselves, huh?” He shamelessly takes a step closer, a lecherous grin on his face, “Maybe you should start thinking about who to… align with next.”

You’ve never been a hot-headed person. But standing here, being belittled at what’s supposed to be a formal, respectable occasion, is not something your parents ever taught you to tolerate. “Excuse me, but that is extremely rude and I'd like for you to leave this table,” You respond coldly. “My boss will be returning any time soon.”

This only fuels his disparaging comments, your fist tightening against the table as he continues to degrade you to your face. Behind the two of you, Sylus overhears everything. His fist tightens around the stem of his glass as he marches over, prepared to strike it against his head— but as always, you never fail to surprise him at every turn.

It takes one more crude comment to break the camel’s back; a woman can only have so much patience. You grab his glass and throw the wine in his face, his expression morphing into one of disbelief and anger. “Leave me alone before I find something else to throw at your face,” You spat.

The scene attracts attention from the other guests in the room as the man curses at you, pulling a gun out of his left pocket. You step back, heart bursting out of your chest at the sight of the weapon.

Before he can even aim, Sylus has already stepped in, grabbing the pistol with one hand and his neck with the other. “Ah, here I was thinking that the rules clearly stated no weapons,” His grip tightens as the man chokes in his grip, “Lucky for me, I only need my fists.”

Though it may have been lifetimes ago, Sylus's draconic tendencies still show through his temper— and less often, his desire to protect. The moment this rat intended to hurt you, his vision turned red and his fists were no longer under his control.

It takes your pleas to stop and Sylus nearly strangling the man before security steps in, called by passing onlookers who’d observed the entire incident. The man was powerful and could have gotten away with threats, maybe even plain murder, if only it weren’t Sylus that he crossed. “An insult to her is an insult to me,” He admonishes the organizers as they bow in apology after the whole ordeal. All the while, you’re shrinking underneath the piercing gazes of those who witnessed the events unfold.

The incident is enough for him to call it a night. You breathe a sigh of relief as you step outside. Though you were shivering inside the air-conditioned ballroom, the balmy air now brushes against your skin, summer humidity taking its course after a fleeting spring. Your heels clack against the pavement, feet dragging with every aching step as your new heels haven’t broken in yet. Sylus had forgone his usual motorcycle and had a private driver bring the two of you to the event, but with your early departure, you were left to walk aimlessly around Linkon City as you wait for the car.

“The event was rather disappointing, really.” He languidly commented, as if he didn’t nearly strangle a man blue.

“No shit, considering you beat someone up.” You huffed, crossing your arms and walking ahead of him. “You've been eyeing one of the protocores on their display for a while. Now your plans have been derailed—“

“Darling, if they’re not competent enough to screen their guests properly, then they have no business selling protocores.”

“But still, this man is your business associate,” Your brows furrow as you rub your forearms, goosebumps forming from the breeze passing by. “This incident is going to cause you unnecessary trouble.”

His footsteps stop, and you turn around to face him— an uncharacteristically solemn look on his face as he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. He says your name, “He pulled a gun on you. Do not think I won't prioritize your safety above my business ventures.” The man wasn’t even worth using his evol for, succumbing pathetically to his mere grip. His lost partnership is nothing to Onychinus.

You shuffle your feet guiltily, drowning in the oversized blazer. Sylus offers his arm to you, “Come on. Let’s find somewhere to eat, shall we?”

You take refuge at a family-owned diner a few blocks down, the smell luring you in with the promise of greasy food. The two of you stick out like a sore thumb, with your floor-length dress and his suit, as some of the only customers left in the last hour before closing. The analog television in the corner drones with some football game, as you and Sylus feast on burgers and milkshakes after a night of experimental hors d’oeuvres you couldn’t even pronounce.

You’re dead at your feet, too weary to care much about your surroundings since you left the venue. To your surprise, it’s Sylus who breaks the silence, “I apologize for what happened earlier.” You look up in surprise, “You’ve been silent for the better part of the night, I didn’t realize it bothered you this greatly.”

The guilt slowly crept up on him, seeing how shaken you were after the incident. He forgets sometimes, that not everyone has been exposed to the dangers of his world. You were a civilian— and not only that, a good person. Soft and averse to violence in a way he never had the privilege to be. Though you may work for him now, it was only from the safety of the Onychinus compound, shielded from the darker elements of his job.

You smile wearily, “I'm just tired, don’t worry.” You set your burger down and fiddle with your hands, “To be honest… it did bother me. I've always been taught that violence should be a last resort, to only use as much force as the situation demands.

“But you’re right. There's a lot I don't understand about this world… but I know that if you’d stepped in a moment later, it could’ve gone much worse.” There’s more to the N109 Zone than the storyline you’d grown familiar with in your world, or the distant image you’ve formed from the safety of Sylus’s office. Like it or not, this would be your home for the foreseeable future, and you can’t live on the same moral framework you once did.

He smirks, “And what would I have done without my dearest secretary?”

You raise your milkshake snootily, “Crash and fall apart, of course.”

It eases into light banter after that, something more familiar to the both of you. At some point, you even accidentally spill sauce onto his blazer still laying atop your shoulders. “Oops, sorry,” You apologize without an inch of remorse in your voice.

He’s quick to retort, “Ah yes, my designer blazer of which there were only five made in production.”

You roll your eyes and drone sarcastically, “Oh no, the millionaire stained his limited edition jacket, boo hoo.”

“I’d like you to know—” He starts again after taking a bite of his burger, looking comically serious despite the small crumb by his cheek. You suppress the urge to wipe it off for him. “—as much as I admire your courage to stand up to a man a head taller than you, I'd rather you not throw drinks at crime lords unless I'm by your side. Not even my name could protect you if he pulled out that gun even a moment earlier.”

Though he’s managed to keep you relatively out of the spotlight, after tonight, there was bound to be more eyes on you. As much as his name affords you power and protection, it also paints a target on your back. He appreciates that you don’t stand for that kind of disrespect, but he will always put his foot down when your safety is on the line.

You take a deep breath in, looking out the window to the soft streetlights and the clear stars of a summer night. “That was really reckless of me, I know that. I appreciate that you came to my defense, and I won't do it again. It’s just that…” You turn to face him once again, giving a lighthearted shrug, “Sometimes, this whole world still feels like a dream to me. That my actions won’t matter in the end, no consequences. That any moment now, I'll wake up, and…”

You trail off. You like to avoid that train of thought when you can.

“Your presence is more important than you think,” He mutters your name. Not Miss Secretary, not darling or dear, but your name. “So, you can’t disappear on me anytime soon.” I still need you around, goes unsaid.

The clock strikes ten and the owners kick you out, “You lovebirds better get home, the trains will be running their last stop anytime soon.” Neither of you step in to correct them, bidding the elderly couple a good night.

For a minute, you’re lost in the haze of a starry sky and a full stomach, humming a song from your old world— when suddenly, you trip over a step you didn’t see, comically twisting and falling on your butt.

He starts with a chuckle and evolves into booming laughter, Sylus absolutely losing it as you pout in offense, “You’re absolutely insufferable!” You exclaim as he cackles at your attempts to get up on the thin heel of your shoe. You’ve never seen Sylus like this, even in the game. Eyes sparkling under the glow of the streetlights, bellowing with genuine uncontrollable laughter.

You begrudgingly accept his hand even as he uses the other one to wipe his tears. “It was not that funny,” You huff— but his laugh is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You continue walking, his hand never leaving yours.

Midsummer is marked by the longest days of the year, of perpetual sunshine and the drone of cicadas. The N109 Zone was anything but that, the total antithesis to what was once your home. But under this night sky— surrounded by good food and good company, the weight of his stare and his hand clutched in yours— you think that maybe, just maybe, nights could be enough for you, as well.

—————————————————————

Over the blinding camera flashes and the roar of jeering crowds, you hold tight to the bouquet in your arms, jumping and cheering for Sylus even though you have absolutely no clue what’s going on.

It was a few days before that you stepped into his private boxing ring and found out about his upcoming match. “I don't know why I'm surprised. I bet no one knows it's actually the big bad Onychinus leader up there in the ring. You probably have some stage name, no? Something corny like dragon or crow.” His deadpan stare tells you all you need to know, “How original.”

Despite your less than enthusiastic response, like a proud parent, you still show up to the day of the match with a bouquet and a vintage camera you scavenged from the compound. “Smile for the picture!” You holler from outside the rope as he wraps his fist in tape, a deadpan stare meeting the flash.

“What are you doing here?” He jumps the rope to meet you at the sidelines, the stands slowly filling in behind you, “This isn’t in your job description, you know.”

“I know that? I scavenged through that contract for any loophole to get out of your auctions, just so you know,” You scoffed, setting your bag down with a thump on the grimy cement floors. " Of course I'm gonna be here, it’s your match!” You blabber on about the flowers, how they’re supposed to mean fortune and good luck. But his thoughts are otherwise occupied.

He had thought this might be a little… juvenile, for you, watching two grown men beating each other up for a medal and prestige. It seems like an activity you’d be distasteful of, but you’re here, you showed up and… are decked with all sorts of essentials, apparently. He peers into the bag to find a first aid kit fit for war, enough towels to supply a family, an electric fan, all stuffed inside a misleadingly small tote bag. His heart stutters in his chest. Not even the twins or Mephisto attend his matches.

When the event officially starts, you stay at his corner the whole time; from his pre-fight rituals to pep-talking during downtime, dabbing at his sweat and blasting an electric fan over him as the coach reams his ass. His own personal cheerleader supporting him from outside the ring (never mind the fact you couldn’t tell whether he was winning or not).

It’s hard to watch, having to cringe and look away as Sylus gets brutally socked in the face, blood splattering out of his mouth as the crowds yell to finish him. It’s even harder to watch him in the locker room afterwards, head down and pride bruised.

“Let me patch you up,” You take a seat on the bench, dabbing a cotton with ointment to his split lip. You know his evol will heal everything by the time he gets home— but some bruises bloom where no one can see.

“My knuckles may be bruised, but I'm not incapacitated,” He glares at you as you bring out the ladybug-patterned bottle of ointment. Hmph. You thought it was cute. “Don’t you have more important things to do than play nurse?” His words cut more than usual, a light blow to your ego but you stand your ground.

“Unfortunately, my boss took the day off to go participate in modern day bloodsport. So no, actually. I don't have anything better to do.” You roll your eyes, twisting the bottle closed.

“Well, you must be disappointed. You’ve wasted your day off placing bets on a losing dog.”

He can’t hide the bitter taste in his mouth, not when he still hears the jeers of the crowd, still feels the pounding headache from being pummeled on the floor. His ambition has always been both his trump card and Achilles heel, and he wants nothing more than to push your comfort and reassurance away. (He doesn’t feel he deserves it.) But as always, you read him like a book.

“Hmph. Who says I bet on you?” You cheekily suggest.

He scoffs in offense, “I suggest you stop talking if you’d like to receive your paycheck intact.”

You smile and roll your eyes. There’s your Sylus. “It's still my job to be there, win or lose. Not as your secretary but as your friend. If it helps—“ You poke his cheek. “—you’re still my big, bad, scary boss. Even if I just witnessed you get beaten to a bloody pulp.”

He's so focused on watching you pack your things, that you startle him when you wrap your arms around him. He stiffens; it’s been far too long since he experienced physical contact that wasn’t drenched in violence. But he relaxes into it, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “Come on, let’s go home.”

—————————————————————

The nights are endless and tiresome as your insomnia persists, but as months pass by with no sign of returning to your world, you learn ways to cope.

On some evenings, you decide to sneak into the kitchen, pulling out flour and eggs for all sorts of midnight snacks. It reminds you of a simpler, albeit more stressful time; taking a break in the wee hours of the morning, setting aside your notes to make comfort food with your roommate.

Sylus eventually discovers your nighttime activities, slipping into the kitchen to find you covered in flour, making enough cookies to feed an army. “It seems like a rat has snuck into the kitchen,” He teases, “You do realize we have private chefs on call, right? You could have ordered food if you were hungry.” Despite his words, he still rolls up his sleeves and grabs the bowl from your hands, mixing a stubbornly resistant batch of batter.

You silently accept the help and move on to shaping the cookies. With his help, the treats are in the unnecessarily massive oven and freshly baked within the next hour. The two of you spend the rest of the evening indulging in freshly baked cookies and talking about everything from work to the surprising amount of gossip intel you’ve accumulated about his business associates, until he asks you why you’re up this late.

“I was hungry,” You shrug, but he raises an eyebrow, knowing full well that you’re not telling the truth. You sigh, “You already know I have trouble sleeping. At least this way my hands are occupied..." These days you can’t even fall asleep at all, succumbing to deep exhaustion mere hours before your shift.

It hadn’t escaped Sylus’s notice, the way your eyebags have deepened, your movements sluggish and back hunched, even though your work remains the same quality. He'd insisted once, that you take a day off, but you’d laughed and said, “And do what? Explore the lovely sights of the N109 Zone?”

“As an employee of Onychinus, you have full access to the medical ward. You can schedule a doctor’s consultation, if that’s what you need,” He carefully suggests.

“That would be nice,” You answer noncommittally. You don’t know how much medicine differs between your world and his, but you probably have to get that done eventually.

The two of you clear a whole tray of cookies, leaving another for Luke and Kieran to feast on in the waking hours and cleaning the kitchen upon your insistence. “We have cleaners who can take care of this in the morning,” He complains.

“Hush, that would be rude,” You admonish him and place a rag in his hands. He sighs and wipes the counter anyway.

You bid him goodnight, but make no move to go to your bedroom, instead sitting at the counter scrolling through your phone. He clicks his tongue, and much to your surprise, pulls you by the arm, “What– Hey! The hell are you doing?”

“It seems I need to resort to physical force to make you rest,” He drags you down the dimly lit hallways and into your room. He hasn’t been inside of it since it was just an empty spare, collecting dust for the past years. But as the door swings open, it’s practically unrecognizable. Every nook and cranny is filled with traces of your presence; books stacked on the floor, a sweater slung over a chair. It fills him with reassurance that you’ve made yourself at home, even if you still feel out of place in this world.

“You didn’t have to manhandle me into bed,” You pout, and slightly warm when you realize the potential innuendo in your words. “I’m not a child.”

“You certainly act like one sometimes,” He retorts, “Should I sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh god, no, please—“ He smirks at the horror on your face.

“Rockabye baby, on the tree top,” His voice croaks out shakily, in complete contrast to the absolute confidence and mischief on his face as he taunts you. You burrow yourself underneath the blankets, “When the wind blows, the cradle will—“

“Stop! Please boss, stop the torture!” You dramatically call out from beneath the covers, kicking your feet, “I'll sleep if it means i never have to listen to that again.” You glare at him with the pillows pressed to your ears.

He barks out a laugh, with a surprising lack of offense at the blatant insult towards his musical capabilities. “That better be a promise,” He bids you goodnight, shutting the door and closing the lights on his way.

As he comes down from the midnight sugar rush and the warmth of good company, he thinks, when was the last time he could laugh so easily around a person?

—————————————————————

It becomes a somewhat regular occurrence between the two of you. Whenever the urge to bake strikes, you can expect that Sylus will be wandering in soon after, alerted by either the clanging of cookware or the smell wafting through the corridors. The kitchen becomes a refuge on sleepless nights, the two of you working in perfect synchronization with each other. Whenever you finish, he waves off your stubbornness and walks you to your room, making sure you don’t wander off again in avoidance of slumber.

One night, he comes home from a week-long mission gone slightly wrong. What was supposed to be an infiltration of the enemy base turned into a battle of bullets, as he quickly realized that the reconnaissance team’s information was wrong. Though the opposing side was dealt a bigger blow, he’s a little more than worse for wear, dragging his feet inside the compound, knuckles bruised and stomach rumbling. It’s one of those days where he wonders the point of it all. Where everything has gone wrong, and he wants to do nothing but hibernate, the sleep deprivation and lack of real food finally getting to him despite his resilience.

His streak of misfortune continues when his phone chimes with a text, the chef on duty informing him of a family emergency. Sylus grants him a day off with a sigh, and sets off to the kitchen to make the easiest meal he can think of right now.

You find a pathetically exhausting sight when you enter the kitchen: Sylus covered in cuts and bruises, hair ragged and bloody, chopping vegetables with the pace of a snail. You want to slam your head into the wall. “Sylus, you haven’t even changed out of your mission gear. What the hell are you doing in the kitchen?” You ask, intent on taking over but he steps away.

“The chef has taken a day off, so we’re on our own,” He continues chopping without so much as a blink of an eye.

You sigh, “It doesn’t have to mean you’re on your own. Come on, Sylus. You just got off a long mission. Let me take over,” You try pushing against him, to which he doesn’t even budge but you spot the way he winces when you press against his shoulder. “We cook together all the time, anyway. Go get cleaned up while I finish here.”

It’s a painstakingly long back and forth between the two of you until he begrudgingly agrees to leave. By the time he comes back, freshly showered and wearing the cardigan you gave him (now one of his favorite pieces), you have not only the salad prepared but one of his favorite dishes on the stove. There’s enough for Luke and Kieran to join, “Something smells good!” Two heads pop into the kitchen as soon as the food is prepared, “I thought we were fending for ourselves tonight!”

The four of you eat together at the dining room; it’s not a sight often seen in the compound, with how busy everyone is. But grief washes over you with the familiarity of it all, a family sitting down to have a meal together. You know it’s a privilege only you have experienced at this table, and your heart aches that they have never known it. And so, you try to bask in the coziness of a home cooked meal and good company.

“Miss Secretary, we’ve been meaning to ask,” Kieran begins after they finished recounting their recent mission, “How did you get here? I mean, we know that you came from another world and all… But how did you manage to get here? Did you mean to?”

Bless their hearts, the twins have seen so much in their life that not even the idea of other worlds can shake their curiosity. You appreciate how he carefully approaches the topic, even if you can see the eagerness plain as day on both their faces. So, as much as you don’t like to linger on this topic, you decide to indulge them.

“No, I didn't mean to go here. In fact, I didn't even know it was possible. My world– while different– was far less developed than yours,” You delve into a sanitized version of what happened to you. A silly incident that led to you waking up in the N109 Zone, dimensions away from your own world with no way to return. You keep the anxiety hidden beneath the surface, surprised at your own ability to hide your grief.

By the time you finish, the twins have even more questions— most of which you can’t answer, except one, “Are you going to go back?”

Beside you, Sylus’s heart stutters in his chest. He can't say he hasn’t thought about it before, that he’s never considered the possibility of you leaving his life just as you had carved your place in it. But he’s never had to confront the reality of whether you even wanted to be in his life. After all, you were alone in this world with nowhere to go. What other choice did you have but to stay with him?

“Well, the question is more about if I can,” You smile bitterly. “I've scoured most of Onychinus’s resources, but there’s nothing similar to my case. And it’s not like I'm a scientist who can figure this out with time, so…” Your voice trails off in disappointment, the topic growing cold as you run your fork against the scraps left on your plate.

It hurts him to see the look on your face, the hopelessness in your tone. He never lingered on the thought of how much it must hurt you, to be so far away from your home. It follows you until after dinner, when he insists on washing the dishes, “I can’t make the cook clean as well,” He says, yet you still linger on the island counter, staring into space.

“You'll always have a place here,” He reminds you, breaking you from your reverie. He’ll never let himself be soft for just anyone— but his guard tends to melt in the face of your presence. You look up at him in surprise, “Although you once said it’s only until you return to your world, you’ll always have a place in Onychinus. So long as you want it.”

What goes unsaid is how he cannot imagine his life without your presence. Without the post-it notes on his monitor, waiting for him at the start of each day. Without the incessant reminders you’ve somehow managed to link to his phone. (A part inside of him screams about a deeper loss; of nights spent under kitchen lights, of soft knits and your perfume permeating the office space, of your warm smile at the end of a cold, hard day.)

A soft, genuine smile transforms your face. “Thank you,” You whisper, heart still raw from recounting the most traumatic event of your life.

The sleep deprivation must be getting to him, he thinks. Under the warm kitchen lights with soft melancholy in your eyes, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s filled with a strong urge to lean forward just a little more, to close the distance and place his lips on yours— before he shuts his eyes tight. He shakes his head. What is he thinking? Kissing you when you’re vulnerable, kissing you when his ex-lover still lingers in his mind each day. But he can’t deny that slowly but surely, you’ve crept into his thoughts, occupying his mind more than he would like to admit.

He longs for this domesticity he’s never known until now; cooking and cleaning together, taking care of each other at your lowest moments. He can see this being forever and that thought scares him. On this warm summer night, the last of the sunshine before the autumn cold sweeps in— he thinks, once again, of the lover that was taken from him. Of the lifetimes he’s waited for her to return, for them to live the soft life they were robbed of. But his heart is nudging him to the possibility of something new, something so precious; and he wonders when the day will come where he must make a choice.

—————————————————————

feel free to dm/comment on the series masterlist if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist 💕

taglist — @mangooes @mentaltrouble2201 @animegamerfox @crazy-ink-artist @phisen @jeondyy @t4naiis @wifunozomi @munimunni @blessdunrest @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @paintedperidot @mansonofmadness @pillarofsnow @sylususeyourevolonmepls @angelichiaro @mephisto-with-a-knife @crimsonmarabou @hikaru-sama @flamedancer13 @tati-the-fangirl @ameili @poptrim @caramelizedpopcirn @cupid-gene @vvonunie @lunia-likes-pomegranet @iamawkwardandshy @tinyweebsstuff @astolary @vyntheria @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @velourmobius @beaconsxd @hon3yydew @kira-loves0905 @codedove @that-lost-one @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @kaiii07 @bohoooitsme @everythingistaken00 @rmjace @red-raf-sy @goddexxluv @seris-the-amious @stellisangelicus-world @alhaith4ms @young-adult-summer @junrui

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jccatstudios · 9 months ago

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OMG JESPERS OUTFIT IS SO GOOD. JESPER IN GENERAL IS JUST SO GOOD YOUR DESIGNS ARE INCREDIBLE

Thanks!!! I love to design costumes and outfits so much. I'll take this as a oppurtunity to share some details from the Ch 3 illustration.

For this artwork, I wanted to feature my favorite garment (the leather jacket) and take the opportunity to draw the trio in more modern clothing.

For Jes, it's always about patterns. He's got three in this outfit, though I think he should have more to match his aesthetic. We've got warped checkerboard, cherries, and checkered hearts. The cherries weren't in the original plan, but I decided to add it because I love a good patterned lining (also a nod to a song on the playlist I'm working on for him).

And the riveted tie was a thing I found on pinterest. How cool is that?! I love rivets that don't have a function, especially on the side of jeans.

Each ring represents one of the characters! Green for Jesper, black for Kaz, and the braided one for Inej. This was probably my favorite part of the illustration due to the process. First, his hand was bright purple to make the brown overlay cooler but still keep some warmth to it. Then I used clear alcohol (0 for my fellow Copic users) to get the fine details on his nails.

If there's a chance to give Kaz some sort of crow wing motif on his back, I'll take it. The jacket is semi-backless, revealing a light purple ribbed sweater underneath. There are three layers to the wings: the short ones snap and zip to the second layer, which then is sewn into the waistband of the third layer. He also has a "KB" patch, opposite to his "R" tattoo on his right arm.

As for his pants, I gave him patchwork jeans as a nod to the ever-iconic "not so broken" passage in Chapter 38.

Inej's jacket is based on medieval knight armor, especially in the shoulder detailing. Some people have said it looks like a bird's beak at the top. Unintentional, but I thought that was a cool interpretation. While I didn't draw her real knives, I gave her a little one to go through her piercing. What book is in her backpack? I'll let you decide.

#comics talk #soc comic adaptation #six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #character design #six of crows fanart #asks

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scalene-4 · 3 months ago

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before i told myself and all the people i love that i was a woman, i had already overcome insurmountable odds and decided the fate of a decaying world in the body of one. i’d broken myself out of an asylum meant to contain people like me, fought through hordes of monstrous entities that wanted nothing more than the sight of me dead, and chosen to break the cycle of life and death kept in limbo by the burning of an eternal flame.

i am, of course, talking about the original dark souls.

it’s no secret that these games have a special significance within the trans community — it seems especially trans women are drawn to the spiritual journey and tough challenges inherent in their design. since that first experience slashing through lordran with a stolen black knight’s greatsword, i have walked under the gaze of a world that sees me as a liability at best and a danger to the decided order at worst. i have collected the umbilical cords of a great one. i’ve taken hormones that have altered my body into a vessel fit for my soul, and i have bested a rotting and golden-armed warrior who has never known defeat. three times.

if i can dodge waterfowl dance, i can survive being trans in america.

if i can slay darkeater midir, i can survive being trans in america.

if i can learn lady maria’s parry timing, i can survive being trans in america. and look super hot doing so.

these games are everything to me, and i often find myself using my character’s journey and pitfalls and triumphs as a sort of sigil for my own life. the parallels between the souls games and transness run deep, and my connection to them is furthered by the musical structure and rhythm of their combat and exploration. defeating isshin the sword saint without hesitation can’t be that different from learning the right hand pattern to neon by john mayer on guitar, or navigating an ever-more-hostile healthcare system after all.

whenever times get tough and i feel as if i would be better suited cutting my time in this reality short and sweet, i remind myself of the lessons these games taught me: hesitation is defeat. react not from fear but from primal rhythmic understanding. dodge into the attack and not away. never give up, no matter what.

the only line that runs through those of us that survive and thrive in this world is the quality of persistence. that is to say, anyone doing something that you too want to accomplish only has one thing in common: they kept going and didn’t give up, no matter what.

the souls games (especially elden ring) teach you to approach adversity in an abstract and nonlinear fashion. something is kicking your ass? go kill a few beasts. find a cool new weapon and upgrade it. pillage a larval tear from an underground temple and respec your entire skill set. you can do this.

us trans folk are thrown into the world with no plan or blueprint for how to navigate it, much like the chosen undead is plucked from the asylum by a giant crow and dropped into lordran with a vague pair of instructions: ring two bells, one above and one below. you’ll figure it out, although you’ll die quite a bit doing so.

i’ve died so many times throughout my multiple lives in these worlds that i couldn’t even begin to guess the number. i plan on making it all the way through this one to the very end, and hold firm in my ability to learn the dodge or parry timing to any challenge that comes my way. if you are trans and reading this today, know that you inherently and skillfully are capable of the same.

happy trans day of visibility my friend <3 may you never go hollow!

#trans #tdov #darksouls #fromsoft #elden ring #bloodborne

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linearao3 · 1 year ago

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So, a little while back, @pyrrhlc very graciously offered to send me a copy of Child Ballad he had bound, and naturally I was very hyped to accept this offer but (a) I live on the other side of the Atlantic, and (b) any packages I receive at my home address must go through my super, who is both daffy and an asshole, and has kept packages from me for time spans ranging from a week to three months to “denying he ever saw it,” so I was hesitant. But I worked out with my friend who lives in a nicer building that it could be delivered c/o her, so I was very excited about that.

Then there was some trivial misadventuring with the USPS, so I had to ask my friend to go fetch it from the post office for me. “It’s very pleasing to the eye!” she texted me, and I ran uptown to behold the wonder.

Now, the box was slightly bigger than I had anticipated, but I was initially just thinking I didn’t think Child Ballad was that long but I too would be worried about sending intricately-made art over the ocean so extra packing makes sense and joining my friend in admiring the box.

Please note the pattern of the paper. (I actually recognized it from a tumblr post of pyrrhlc’s.)

My friend and I carefully unwrapped it, at which point, she said, “you should make an unboxing video!” and I was not about to wait long enough to do anything that fancy but I did take pictures and look:

WHAT

Friends. Comrades. Seen here now at home on my desk:

FOUR BOOKS.

Four extremely beautiful books! Plus an enclosed note with a handsome crow (the books are from the Black Crow Bindery!) which contains kind words about my fics and also edifying facts about the patterns on the covers! The Service Work ones are based on wallpaper from the 1880s! They all have pretty ribbons and handsome Baskerville typeface!

The two Service Work books also have these pretty metal corner guards which probably have a technical name I am unaware of! Tumblr won’t let me add more pictures! You can kind of see them in the others, though!

They are all very beautiful! I am very grateful! Please admire @pyrrhlc’s artistry in this as well as in his writing! I am admiring them on my bookshelf as I speak!

#book binding #gorgeous oh my goodness #murder ballad #child ballad #serves you right #served me well

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nixotinix · 1 month ago

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*Slides a tray full of thirty cupcakes onto the table, a third were vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry.*

"I didn't know what flavor everyone likes, so i got one of the three I had at home"

*Three cupcakes--one of each flavor--had a different frosting pattern and a toothpick. The patterns were all unique to each rogue:

A white rabbit and a top hat

A winter scene and an umbrella

A treble clef and a microphone

A checkers pattern of green and purple with a question mark

A kitty with a diamond

A black and red checkered pattern with two hyenas

A rose with two leaves

A face in a sack with a vial

Half white and half blue with a coin

And black and green radioactive symbol with a teddy bear*

"I hope everyone likes them."

Penguin: “Oh- oh! What’s this, then?”

Riddler: “Looks like we’ve got something of a fan on our hands. Oh, and cupcakes!”

Harley: “They’re themed? To us? Aw, well you shouldn’t have!!”

Two-Face: “And three of each, too…”

Penguin: “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Two-Face?”

Two-Face: “... I’m going to give one to my wife. Not that you would know anything about a woman’s touch.”

Jervis: “Nice.”

Two-Face: “I can name a dozen women who have restraining orders against you, Tetch. You don’t get to talk.”

Catwoman: “NICE.”

Ivy: “Harley- Harley. I know that yours have pictures of the hyenas on them, but don’t feed them to the hyenas.”

Harley: “Aww, but why? They look so hungry, Red! And- and see, Jonny is feeding his to Poe!”

Jonathan: “Don’t rope me into this, Harley. My crow ain’t a hyena.”

Harley: “Fffffffine.”

Darius: “... Enjoying yours, big guy?”

Bane: “They’re good. I like the icing.”

Darius: “Would you like mine as well? I don’t eat sugar or dairy.”

Bane: “If you are offering, it would be rude for me to refuse. Thank you.”

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 months ago

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STRANGER (xviii) - KAZ BREKKER

//tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter @directioner5life @strvngestark @hostilityghost @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @justnerdystuffs @faeriepigeons @littleshadow17 // previously // next // better late than never!! after this, i anticipate 2 more parts just to finish at an even 20

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,781

Summary: Brick by brick the King will fall, and piece by piece the Princess and the Bastard build their plan. The time draws near and truths come to light.

The next day, with your familiar cloak draped over your shoulders, you kept your head high as you went through the Emerald Palace. You still adhered to your father’s dress code, with the color on your face and neat braids in your hair to match the pristine wardrobe, but you felt more yourself than you had in so long.

While so much was still shaky and uncertain, you were certain of who you were. It was wondrous what simple magic your friends could work.

“Not so fast.” One of his guards stopped you outside his office door.

You refrained from rolling your eyes.

“Is there an issue with me seeing my father?” You asked, not bothering to keep annoyane out of your voice.

“He’s busy, Little One.”

You pulled your knife from under your cloak and held the tip against his stomach. The other man kept his eyes forward and away from the confrontation.

“You don’t dictate when I speak to him.” You warned. “Stand in my way again and I will draw blood.”

“Yes, Ms. Rollins.” He nodded and hesitantly stepped back. He reached for the door handle and ushered you in.

You entered your father’s office, finding him in the middle of the room throwing darts.

So much for busy.

“Trouble at the door, Davi?” He glanced your way and nodded towards the small blade still in your hand. “And what are you wearing?”

“It adds a bit of flair.” You shrugged nonchalantly and he returned to his darts, mumbling about the childish accessory. You dropped into his desk chair and scanned the various ledgers on his desk.

“Are you recieveing shipments this week?” You gently pushed them around, searching for the book.

He sighed slightly, followed by the thump of a dart landing in the wall.

“What do you need?” He asked, exasperation in his voice.

“Kvas.” You lied. “A few good nights took more than I expected.”

“You need to track your inventory better.” He scolded. “A good club owner can make these predictions and understands their business patterns.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. It’s just growing pains as I’m working some things out. At the other club, Mellaney usually tracked all that...”

Hearing her full name out of your mouth was strange.

“Harbor plans should be on the left side of the desk, second or third one down.” He returned to his game. “Should have some crates coming in later this week.”

You followed his directions and found the book. Flipping it open, you found what you needed. Your eyes scanned the page several times, memorizing as much as you could. You had planned to scribble all the information right then and there, but with your father on the other side of the room, it would never work. You kept your paper and pencil in your cloak’s main pocket and simply read the details again and again.

“Three days time.” You said when the silence bordered on too long.

“You have enough till then?”

“I should.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

“When you fail, I fail.” He shrugged. “You’re on your own to figure it out next time, alright?”

“Yessir.”

“Anything else?”

“No, thank you again.” You bowed your head at the cue to leave and all but ran out.

Later that night, you had your copy of the Fifth Harbor schedule tucked away as you and Kol walked through Black Veil. Your hood was resting comfortably atop your head and your boots crunched over the dried grass. Same as the first time you were there, the ghosts led you to the mausoleum where Kaz and his Crows were hiding in. You swallowed the tightness in your throat as you passed your mother’s grave again.

You were surprised to find the place empty.

“This is where they went?” Kol asked, shivering as he entered the stone building behind you.

You chuckled slightly and pulled your cloak a bit tighter around yourself. “Apparently, they were too good for Melli’s ‘charity’.” You added air quotes around the last word. “You know Kaz’s pride.”

“They’ll catch their deaths in this cold before they can face your father.” He mumbled.

“It has it’s appeal.” You shrugged. “It’s unassuming, out of the way. No one would think to find them here.”

Kol made a small noise of acknowledgement as he wandered the space. You poked your head into the backroom where you had assisted Nina but found that abandoned as well. There was some discarded supplies from Inej’s wounds, but no evidence of anyone else. Not even a hint of an intended return. You simply sighed and went back to Kol.

You found him with a relatively worn out parchment in his hand.

“Is this one of yours?” He flipped the paper so the contents were facing you. Immediately, you recognized it as your work.

It was one of your older works, though it only recently made its way to Kaz’s possession. It was when you first discovered a shadowed spot behind a chimney that had a near perfect view into Kaz’s room at the Slat. He was standing in the window, leaning slightly against the frame, while Inej was perched on the sill. Her hand was out, dropping bits of food for the small murder of crows on the rooftop.

It was the first and only time you saw the scene.

“Put that back.” You frowned and Kol simply grinned in triumph.

“He likes you more than he lets on.” Your friend continued.

“Stop it.” You reached for it but he held it further from you. “Kolya Gethos, if you don’t put that back.”

“You want us to be one blended family but no one can tease him?”

“Not if he’s not here to defend himself.”

“I have no problems saying it to his face.”

“If only your mother had warned me how much of a pain in the ass you’d be.” You teased and rolled your eyes.

Kol laughed slightly but put the drawing away. Once his hands were free, he rubbed the spot on his arm where his tattoo wrapped.

“Do you regret it?” You gestured to the hidden ink.

“No.” His tone left no room for uncertainty. “It’s been hard at times, but it feels like this is where I’m needed…”

“I would’ve died without you.”

“Several times.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Do you regret it?”

You had no response.

Some of it you did regret. Melli’s abduction, betraying Kaz, leaving your mother. But other things, like finding new friendships with your Snakes and Kaz’s Crows, taking a stand against your father, you didn’t. The pain you left in your wake you regretted, but taking from Pekka like he took from you you didn’t.

It was all very simple and very complicated. Answering with something like “At times” felt too nonchalant. Always and never was a better explanation but how could that make any sense?

“You should head back, try to get a jump on the Lion pledges.” You said instead. “I’ll hang out a while and see if any of them return.”

You could see there was something else he wanted to say but he decided against it.

“Anyone specific I should start with?”

“Lockley, he was the one with me when I broke up the Lion raid a few nights ago. Getting him should help win over any who hesitate or he can tell you who’ll never join. He’s usually on the door at the Club… You should Tailor yourself.”

“I’d rather not.” He shook his head slightly.

“For my sake?” You tried. “I’d rather people not immediately recognize you. We accomplish nothing should that happen… I can make it an order instead of a request if I must.”

He huffed and conceded with a nod. You smiled and walked out with him. You watched him for a few more steps, but once he was all but swallowed by the mist, you took your own detour.

You crouched by her headstone again. It didn’t hurt as much the second time around but it was still a sharp pain in your chest. You withdrew the single flower from your cloak pocket and placed it over the stone.

“I always wondered if you were okay… Maybe this is better.” You said to her ghost. “I’d ask if he did this but you wouldn’t tell me anyway. I like to think you’d be proud, Mama, and I’d like to think you wouldn’t forgive him for this, for what he’s done to me and the boys. Saints, I wish you were here… I could use some advice.”

You were quiet for a moment. Part of you expected her to answer, thinking of the dream of her voice. Your eyes closed and you put your palm against the cool stone. Your finger traced the closest letters.

M-A-X-

“I think they’re right… I think it is love.” You whispered the confession. “But I think it’s doomed.”

“Davina?” A familiar voice came from behind you.

You didn’t stand, just glanced behind to see Wylan coming through the light fog coverage. For a brief moment, you wondered what he had heard.

“What were you doing here?” He asked when he knelt at your side. You then realized he hadn’t heard anything.

“A gift.” You reached into your cloak’s pocket and offered the paper. Wylan simply frowned at it. “The schedule this week for Fifth Harbor. Kaz needed it.”

“You should give it to him then.” He pushed your hand away. “Who’s grave is this?”

“Read it and take a guess.” You shook your head.

He didn’t answer. He simply stared at the stone. You watched his eyes trace the shape of the letters but his brows furrowed a bit in concentration.

“Wylan?” You tried and his attention turned to you quickly. There was a silent plea in his expression, like he was begging you not to notice. “Are you alright?”

He nodded quietly.

“Not many know this, but I bear her name as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“In full, my name is much longer but Pekka insisted I only use two. Everyone knows Davina Rollins, but in its entirety, I’m Davina Hope Maxim Rollins.”

Wylan made a small noise of acknowledgement before looking back at the stone. He reached forward and skimmed his fingers across the name.

“Alohra Hayley Maxim-Rollins.” You read. “My mother.”

His head snapped to you again. His expression showed something you didn’t understand.

Did it make you more likeable to have a mother? Did he pity you for only having your father left? Was he seeing you differently now? You didn’t like the way he was looking at you so you decided to try a subject change.

“You and I have more in common than you think.” You nudged him with your elbow when his confusing look grew to be too much.

“How?”

“I prefer my mother’s maiden name, and I’m guessing that’s the name you use as well.”

His eyes went wide and you smiled softly.

“I’ve known for a long time who your father is.” You admitted. “We met in passing when we were young and Pekka tried to befriend Jan.”

“I don’t remember you.”

“I’m sure that was the intent.” You shrugged. “It’s alright. If Kaz hasn’t said anything, he probably doesn’t care.” You assured. “I think I’ve figured out the specific reason you abandoned your namesake.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t” He whispered.

“And it’s…” You paused, considering how to say it. “Alphabetical.” You settled and gestured to your mother’s name. You didn’t know how to say that he hadn’t read her name, just traced the shape of the letters with his eyes, without sounding like you were mocking him.

“Yes.”

“Reading her name doesn’t necessarily tell you anything about her.” You tried to comfort him as you two stood. “You know more about her than most.”

“Is Kaz the only other one to know?”

“The only one I’ve spoken to about her. I’m not sure what he remembers of her.”

“Why would he-“

“Though to be fair.” You cut his question off. “It was nearly a mental breakdown.” You tried to joke and Wylan chuckled. “He has a unique way of wearing people down.”

“Try spending every day with him.” Wylan muttered and it was your turn to laugh.

“I suppose some of that is my fault. I haven’t exactly made his return easy.”

Wylan shrugged. “It’s my understanding that nothing in the Barrel is easy.”

“Take the schedule, Wylan.” You offered again. “As a favor? I don’t think Kaz would want to see me.”

“He won’t believe I came back with that.” He adamantly shook his head. “He should be here any minute.”

“He’ll skin me.”

“No he won’t.”

“He may have me hung.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Gut me like a fish?”

“Davina.” He didn’t find your responses funny.

“Maybe he’ll try something new, have me drawn and quartered.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Nevermind.” You sighed.

“He’ll know it came from you. You might as well face him.”

“Yes, yes, fine.” You waved a hand. “Answer me this then, my friend.” You had a new thought. “The list, when you were helping me get Melli. If you struggle…”

“Kol wrote it… I told him my hands were busy but I needed it written before I forgot.”

It may have been the dim light of the moon but you almost swore Wylan was blushing.

“Clever.” You smiled slightly. “If you weren’t a Crow, I would’ve tried to recruit you myself.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’re quite brilliant, Wylan. Has anyone ever told you?”

“I do.” Jesper answered, suddenly at Wylan’s side. “Quite often, actually.”

“Good to see you, Jesper.” You returned the smile he offered you.

“You too, Davs. Boss is right behind.” He gestured to the mist.

“I’m just dropping this off but dearest Wylan is refusing.” You offered Jesper the paper. He reached for it but Wylan pulled Jesper’s hand away.

You frowned at him and he offered a pointed look in return.

“For a Barrel Boss, you seem pretty scared.” Wylan taunted.

“How dare you?” You glared without any real heat. Wylan lifted his chin slightly and crossed his arms to stand his ground. You cracked a smile at the reaction.

“Fine, I yield.” You huffed, tucking the paper away. “I’ll give it to Brekker myself.”

Wylan grinned in triumph but Jesper looked between the two of you in confusion.

“I’ve missed something.” He said plainly.

“I’ll fill you in.” Wylan answered and dragged Jesper away. You couldn’t even voice any opposition.

Not long after they disappeared into the mausoleum, Kaz took their place.

“A peace offering.” You offered him the paper.

He glanced down at it and raised a brow before looking back at you. You sighed to yourself but kept your hand outstretched

“Fifth Harbor schedule, as promised.” You explained. “I think the shipment in three days time is the smartest. It’s mostly kvas, but it’s the largest this week, meaning-“

“Meaning the most crew.” Kaz cut in, carefully taking the paper. “Most hands and quickest way to spread it.”

You nodded. “I assume you’d want this done as soon as possible so you can return to brooding and plotting my demise in peace.”

He read over your scribbled writing and you glanced down at your mother’s grave again. You looked at it as if there’d be some message in the stone, some advice as to how to tread. Of course, it only read back her name.

“Your handwriting’s horrendous.” He muttered.

You looked back at him and your jaw nearly fell. You truly couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“I…” You trailed off. Were you supposed to defend your penmanship? As if knowing your expression, he glanced at you and the edge of his mouth tilted up for a split second.

The Bastard was teasing you.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for here.” He tucked the paper away and rested both hands atop his cane. “Your mother’s grave has nothing to offer you.”

“It’s some sort of comfort.” You faced the stone fully. “At least I know where she is so I can talk to her. I know she won’t answer, but…”

“The dead can’t help us, Davina.”

“I know.”

“They only haunt us, torment us.” It seemed he was speaking from experience more than belief.

“I know.” You closed your eyes tightly,

“So why look to them?”

“Because I have no one else.” You shrugged weakly.

You thought you felt something at your elbow. You glanced at Kaz but saw both of his hands were still atop his cane. You shrugged it off as your imagination or maybe your mother’s ghostly touch.

“You do realize how ridiculous that sounds.” He chastised. “Don’t you?”

You didn’t bother hiding your eye roll. You turned to your… To Kaz and crossed your arms, staring expectantly.

“Your Snakes still follow you, despite your recent activity. Not to mention you’ve won over Nina, Jesper, and Wylan. Inej seems to have taken enough liking to you as well.”

“The Wraith would rather see me dead.” You scoffed. “She doesn’t trust me. She’d sooner stick me like a seamstress sticks a pin cushion.”

“You’re deliberately not listening to me.”

“Because you speak so vaguely.”

“As if you’re so intent.”

“I swear on the Saints, I’m going to throttle you one of these days.” You muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“Not to say you haven’t tried.”

“Coming from the man who tackled me with hands on my throat?” You gestured to the stone building a few feet away.

“Coming from the woman who held a blade to my neck on several occasions?” He replied easily.

“Out of respect for my mother, I won’t carve out your spleen but please, shut up.”

“Davina.” He said firmly then paused. You took a deep breath and met his intent stare. “You must understand that you aren’t alone.”

“Yes, Kaz, I understand.” You answered. Your voice dripped with annoyance. You couldn’t help but feel as if he was talking down to you. “But you must understand that someone could have the world but still feel like there’s no one. I can’t talk to any of them about these thoughts. She’s the only one who will listen without judgement.”

“What thoughts?” His brows furrowed.

You let yourself believe there was concern in his words, in his expression. You let yourself, if only for a moment, believe that he worried for you and the secrets you kept.

Maybe in another life.

“It doesn’t matter.” You sighed. You and Kaz worked only in terms of business, exchange of goods and/or services. Anything beyond that was a fool’s dream. “Kol is working on recruiting the pledges. You have the schedule. I’ll meet you at the office in the Rook two nights from now. Is there anything else you need from me in the meantime?”

Kaz’s eyes moved quickly, flicking across your face. You said nothing as he looked over your expression, down your body then back up. What he was scanning for, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. Instead, you stood quietly under his scrutiny until his eyes met yours again. Illuminated by the moon, his eyes seem to shine.

“I need…” He began tightly. Your expression shifted to confusion but you remained silent as he took a step closer. “I need you to be careful.”

“He’s been suspicious since the deal.” You reasoned. “Pekka won’t accuse me of anything without proof and so far, I believe you have all ends to any paper trail. Any uncertainty of me being here can be explained by her.” You gestured to your mother’s grave. Even in death, she was your protection. A safe space where you could just be. And oddly enough, you didn’t mind Kaz standing there with you.

“That’s not what I mean.” He spoke lowly.

“You mean with the Club deed then? On my life, Kaz, it’s far from his reach.”

“No.” He groaned, frustrated you weren’t understanding. “You, Vina.”

“Me?” You couldn’t keep the shock from your tone.

“Yes, you fool.” He shook his head. “Pekka has taken enough from me this lifetime. He cannot...”

You reached forward and held lightly to his forearm. The material of his coat had the mist clinging to it and it left your palm damp. There was no thought in the gesture, a simple reaction that was meant to convey your understanding.

“You’re not forgiven.” He said flatly.

“Of course not.” You agreed. “But I’m assuming this means it is possible to be forgiven.”

You didn’t miss the crack in his blank facade, the slightest lift of his lips towards a smile.

“Not when you speak in that accent.” He commented instead.

You hadn’t even realized the Kaelish accent you had adopted around your father had stuck around. Briefly, you wondered if you were stuck with it for the time being.

“Insufferable man.” You muttered, shaking your head as you headed back towards the Barrel.

The next day was what you considered to be the most important thing. You had to go alone and unannounced so you borrowed a carriage horse and rode out to Applebroek.

Arriving at the country home, a new weight settled in your stomach. You could fool the boy, play the long lost sister desperate to reconnect with her kin. You could fool the house staff, the rediscovered Rollins Princess returning. Surely word of reconnecting with your father had reached that far. The weight came from returning to the home your mother chose, the one she decorated.Potentially, it was the last thing her personality had touched.

As you were coming up the driveway, two men that were undeniably Lions blocked your path. You dismounted and loosely held the reins.

“Can we help ya?” One of them spoke, a heavy Kaelish accent in his voice.

“I’ve come to see the boy.” You admitted. No point in lying on that.

“Mr. Rollins didn’t tell us of any visitors.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“No, he wouldn’t have.” You offered an embarrassed smile. “I didn’t tell my father I’d be coming…”

“Davina?” The other spoke, aged near Pekka if you had to guess.

You nodded.

“You’re the spitting image of Alohra.” He said in awe and a knife twisted in your chest.

“The highest compliment.” You said humbly. “May I?”

The one who recognized your mother’s features gestured for you to continue to the door. He took your horse’s reins and the other man went with him, muttering about your arrival. You counted your steps towards the door just to keep your mind busy and away from the lingering thoughts of your mother.

You raised an arm to knock when the door flew open. You jumped back slightly, one hand already heading for your blade, when you realized who was on the other side.

It was just a boy.

“Who are you?” He asked, scrutinizing your face from his small height.

“I’m-“ You began when a familiar woman came to stand behind the boy. She was the same woman who had cared for you when you were small. The shock lasted only for a moment. “Hello again.”

“Davi…” She said in a whisper. Tears welled in her eyes and she pulled you inside.

You should’ve expected it but Applebroek looked nothing like you remembered. Most if not all of your mother’s touches were gone, replaced with some garish display of wealth. It made your stomach flip but you swallowed the nausea. You could puke on the ride back to Ketterdam.

“Who are you?” The boy asked again and stood on a footrest to try and meet your height. He leaned in as if a closer view would tell him anything.

A brat, you realized, likely spoiled.

“I’m Davina, your sister.” You gently pushed him back. “And you’re Alby… Papa speaks highly of you.”

“You’re… Da never mentioned you.”

“I was gone for a long time.” You shrugged.

“You don’t look like me.”

“Of course not. My mother is not the same as yours… She passed sometime ago.”

Seemingly content, he ran off to another room. You wandered the space as nostalgia creeped into your bones. You didn’t have many memories in Applebroek, save for some springs riding horses with your mother around the grounds. You remembered a birthday party with street performers throughout the yard, climbing to the roof to see the stars which had your mother climbing after you. Your mother taught you to sew in that house as well.

Alby found you again after a few minutes and shoved a toy train into your hands. He grabbed your arm and dragged you with him to what you assumed was his playroom. The floor was littered with toys and books and games.

He was very well off, but of course the Rollins Heir would be.

You played games with him for a while, finding you didn’t necessarily have to fill a role. Alby didn’t care why you were there. He just liked having someone new around. He didn’t ask many questions, except if you worked for Pekka and what you did. Telling him you managed one of the businesses seemed to be enough to earn his approval.

You were ushered away a few hours later when Alby had piano lessons. He protested and clung to your arm, but you used the opportunity to get away. Slipping one of his toy trains under your cloak, you insisted you overstayed and promised another visit soon. Alby asked you to bring Pekka and you smiled as a response.

Lying usually came naturally, but something about lying to a little boy’s hopeful face wasn’t as easy.

One of the groundsmen brought your horse around and you were quick to mount. Your old tutor waved from a window and you could just see Alby in the background banging piano keys. You offered a warm smile before riding off towards Ketterdam.

Only a few miles from Applebroek did you have to pull off the road to be sick.

Two nights since speaking to Kaz had you sneaking out of the Prince and into the Rook. Lockley had spoken with you that first night, when you had returned from Applebroek, and promised his loyalty to you and your friends. He had no real devotion to Pekka or the Lions.

You had also made a trip to the Exchange during that time. You filed for ownership of your father’s property should he become unavailable and with a precisely forged signature, you were able to check another box.

The Emerald Palace, the Sweets Shop, the Menagerie, the Orchid, Fifth Harbor. It’d all be yours after the coup and there was nothing Pekka could do to stop it. Not only that, but should something go wrong and you wouldn’t return to your friends, you designated Melli as your own ‘in-lieu of’ owner.

It’d all be hers.

Everyone was crammed into the office of the Rook. Kol and Melli, Adrin and Soleeya, Lockley, Kaz and his Crows, and you.

What a crew. You stared quietly, hoping to remember enough details to sketch out later.

“Perfect timing, we were just talking assignments.” Lockley smiled as you approached the desk everyone was clustered around. “Brekker already went over the plan.”

Your eyes scanned the circled targets, all of your father’s holdings. You had been considering assignments since your ride back from visiting Alby, who’s toy train still sat in your cloak’s pocket. You thought of different pairings and what skills would compliment each other without compromising your hidden plans. Everything had to play out. If even one thing was out of place, the entire operation would collapse.

“May I?” You looked towards Kaz. He raised a brow in interest. “Kol should go with Inej, Jesper with Wylan, Soleeya and Melli stay here, Adrin and Lockley at the Kaelish Prince. Nina will bring Kaz and I’ll already be in the Palace.”

“I don’t need help.” Inej argued calmly, her shoulders pulling back. “Kol should stay with you.”

“This is my father’s biggest shipment of the week.” You reasoned. “As comfortable as you are in the shadows, there will be more eyes than usual on this ship. It shouldn’t come down to a fight but it’d give me peace of mind to know you’re not alone.”

“If it’s not a fight, I have faith in her.” Kol countered. “I should be where the fight is. I should be beside you, Davina.”

“I appreciate that, but your too recognizable. My father will pick you out in the crowd before anything starts. Besides, we need to trust each other and have each other's backs in this. No one goes alone.” You insisted. “Kaz?”

“She knows her father’s crew better than we do.” Kaz agreed carefully. “Things have changed since we returned so Davina will have the best information… Gethos goes with Inej.”

Inej shot Kaz a glare but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Why do I have to stay here?” Melli piped up.

“Someone has to defend this place.” You shrugged. “Soleeya will be with you, and the rest of the Snakes.”

“Wylan will come here after his work is done.” Kaz added, which surprised everyone. “Jesper will come to the Palace, Wylan will help you.”

“I don’t want his help.” Melli argued. “No offense.” She smiled apologetically to Wylan.

Wylan put his hands up. He didn’t know what Kaz was thinking either.

“If something goes wrong, Pekka will come to claim this place.” Kaz reasoned. You smiled to yourself as he spoke. It was exactly what you were thinking. “If Davina falls and her best fighter is gone, he won’t hesitate to take advantage. Your defense of this place, dear Melli, will mean everything.”

“Shouldn’t I be here too then?” Jesper tried. “Mel can shoot but-“ He didn’t bother to hide his cocky smile. “-she’s not me.”

“I’d rather you in the Palace.” You shook your head. “Some of the recruited pledges will be around but they’re loyal to me. Kaz will need allies as well.”

Kaz’s friends turned pointed looks to Lockley.

“Alliance to Davina is easy to pull since we’ve worked with her. Most are still afraid of Dirtyhands…” He explained.

“Which is why you’ll be there.” You nodded to Jesper.

“Why not have a Crow at the Prince?” Adrin asked. “I’m not trying to complain, but it was their place to begin with.”

“When they’re done, I think Kol and Inej should split. Kol here, Inej to the Prince.” You said to Kaz.

“Defending their home turf?” He raised a brow. “My Wraith should be with me, after she gets the message to Pekka’s driver, as should your Heartrender with you.”

“I trust I won’t need him.”

“Trust..” He scoffed lightly.

“Yee of little faith.” You joked. “I’m not worried how this will end.”

“It could end with you dead.” Nina offered. “It seems like no one here wishes to acknowledge that… You do understand that, don’t you? If Pekka figures out what you’re up to before we can get it done, he’ll kill you. He’s tried before.”

“Of course I understand… And I have contingencies in place, but if they so choose, they can go where they feel they’re needed.”

“I’ll meet at the Palace.” Inej nodded.

“I’ll help Melli.” Kol confirmed but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t necessarily sure that was what he should do. Kol had told you several times his loyalty was to you first as the Boss, but if you wanted him somewhere else, then he’d be somewhere else.

“All decided then?” You glanced around the table.

Wylan began carefully handing out jars of the substance. The designated pairs were given their locations and began discussing their specific plans of attack. You grabbed Melli and Kaz to pull them aside.

“Is this where we discuss these contingencies you’ve kept secret?” Kaz asked you.

“Don’t act like you require some insight into my secrets.” You rolled your eyes. “I’d assume you want to know, given your club is involved.”

“Davina?” Melli asked gently. “What do I need to do?”

“Should I die, the Lions are likely to split a raid between here and the Prince.” You began explaining. “Adrin and Lockley will have some of the turncoats with them to fight off the occupation, but their real prize is here. I think Pekka knows it.”

“What prize?”

“The deed.” Kaz answered calmly, though you saw a storm brewing in his watchful eyes. “Davina, are you saying that my Club deed has been here? The whole time?”

“Yes. And if you hadn’t made such a fuss and refused Melli’s hospitality, I could’ve had it returned it to you sooner. Instead you chose to freeze in a mausoleum.”

“Your private safe.” Melli said knowingly.

“Kol helped me install it so he knows where to find it. The date we met is the combination.” You continued.

“Who needs a combination?” Kaz murmured and you rolled your eyes slightly.

“If I die, Mel, make sure Kaz gets the deed back.” You gestured to him. “Once it’s his, Pekka can’t take it without forcing the Merchant Council to get involved.”

“You could give it back now.” He cut in. “Save us all the trouble. I could crack your safe before any of your Snakes knew it.”

“And waste what we’ve planned?” You laughed slightly. “C’mon, Brekker. Look at what we’ve done so far. Who else but us could manage this type of alliance?”

You gestured to the mixed crews. Crows chatting with Snakes, along with a future Lion taken right from under your father’s nose. All that was missing was someone with Black Tip and Razor Gull affiliation and you’d have collected the whole Barrel.

“You and I both want my father to suffer for what he did to…” You trailed off, glancing at Melli. “And what we’re doing is for Inej, as well… For her freedom.”

“If you die, what happens to the Snakes?” Melli asked carefully. One of her hands was around her wrist, her thumb rubbing against the joint. “What’ll be expected of me?”

“You’ll own the Rook, and leadership falls to you and Kol. You can abdicate and choose your own successor, but one will lead and one will be lieutenant, at your own discretion.” You answered.

“You’ve planned it all.” Kaz muttered.

“I’d like to be buried near my mother.” You told him.

“And I, under the weight of my own riches when I'm damn well ready. You aren’t going to die, Davina.” He rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.

You continued your demands. “With a headstone that reads ‘Davina Hope Maxim’ - Rollins is not to be anywhere on it - and to be buried with my ring.”

“Your ring?” He feigned ignorance.

“The one on a chain around your neck.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” He shrugged.

“You know, you could give that back now and save us all the trouble.” You threw his words at him and he gave you a short lived smirk. “It’d be easier than me having to steal it back.”

“Wasn’t that your original plan?” He teased, though the flatness of his voice made him seem all too uninterested. “Realized how ridiculous that was, I assume.”

“You and that insufferable ego.” You shook your head. “No wonder most stay away from you.”

“Yet you always find a way back.”

“And you let me.”

“I’m just gonna…” Melli pointed towards the rest of the team and slipped away. She shook your shoulders slightly with a giggle before leaving.

“I visited my brother in Applebroek.” You told Kaz, moving to stand beside him and watch your friends’ discussions. “Frankly, it made me sick.”

He only offered a noise of acknowledgment.

“A spoiled brat if I ever saw one. And to think I would’ve turned out just like him.” You laughed weakly. “Do you think dragging the boy into it is too far?”

“He won’t be touched, if that’s what you’re worried about. Jesper and Wylan made that demand quite clear.” Kaz said plainly. “It’s only for Pekka to know that neither he nor his son are untouchable, no matter where he tries to hide him.”

“I know, but…”

“Vina, if you don’t think you can stand the end of this plan…” He said quietly.

You looked up at him with furrowed brows. Was Kaz trying to offer you a chance to bail? Was he offering you a kindness? Strange, considering you didn’t believe you had earned anything let alone sympathy from him.

“I don’t enjoy the idea of bringing in the boy.” You confessed. “But I do want my father to know what it feels like to be desperate for answers, just to know where someone is. I want answers for what happened to my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Something in me says he killed her.” You breathed. “I can’t explain why but I just know he had something to do with it.”

He didn’t ask what it was. Maybe he didn’t need to. He didn’t say you were crazy or argue that you had no reason to blame Pekka. He knew enough of what Pekka was capable of, and maybe part of him also thought Pekka did it.

“Then he’ll suffer for that, too.” He promised.

Gently, his hand found yours. You shifted a step closer, using your hip to keep you linked hands out of view.

“I’m sorry for everything.” You sighed, a heavy weight slipping off your shoulders. “Everything that’s gone wrong because of me, I’m sorry, Kaz. Sometimes I wonder if your life would’ve been different if you’d never met my family.”

“It isn’t all bad.” He answered in a low voice. “I met you.”

“And it nearly killed you.”

“That’s just Ketterdam’s way of saying ‘hello’.” He shrugged it off despite your frown. “When this is done and we win, what will you do?”

“I’ve been so focused on preparing for my death that I hadn’t considered it… What will you do?”

“Reclaim my Club, use that shoddy decor Pekka installed as kindling. Drink myself into a stupor… Consider making amends.” He listed casually.

“Amends?” You looked up at him. “And who do you, Kaz Brekker, wish to be on good terms with?”

“Just some insufferable woman.” His eyes met yours. “Bane of my existence type woman.”

“Sounds wretched…”

“She is, but..” He swallowed. The muscle of his jaw ticked and he squeezed your hand slightly. There was so much he was trying to say but he couldn’t find the words.

You, however, stayed quiet. Part of you liked to watch him squirm, the part that helped you become a threat in the Barrel. Another part just wanted him to find his own words. It’d be more genuine that way. It’d be more true to what he was thinking if he could say it on his own.

You looked down at your interwoven hands. His, in the usual black leather, with a firm but unsteady grip on yours. It looked like he could drop your hand and run at any moment, but it felt as if he’d never let go. You never wanted him to let go.

“I don’t want a deathbed apology from you.” Kaz said instead and your attention slid back to him.

“What do you want from me, Kaz?” You asked quietly. “This can’t be all there is for us. There’s something more. I know it.”

He swallowed hard and you could almost see every muscle in his body tense.

“We’re not soulmates, Vina.” He practically whispered. You weren’t fully convinced he was saying it for you. It had to be more for himself. It had to. Didn’t it?

“Maybe not, but I willed this into existence. I cut and sewed the strings of fate myself until they spelled your name for me. I care for you, and I will until my last breath. If there’s something after this, I will care for you in that as well. Tell me I’m wrong to care. Tell me you don’t and I’m just holding on to the past… Tell me that you feel the same. Just tell me something so I know where we stand…”

Silence.

He looked over your shoulder and you felt your heart sink. Your body ran cold with the understanding.

If you loved Kaz, he didn’t feel the same. You confessed how intently you cared for Kaz and he looked past you. He said nothing.

With a small nod, you pulled your hand away. He still said nothing. He did nothing. Even as you turned your back and walked away, there was no reaction.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked away threatening tears.

You had always known, hadn’t you? Kaz was incapable of love, of caring for someone with any sort of depth. He had grown cold, rightfully so considering what your father had done. And it had been your father after all. Why you had thought that you would be able to trump that for him, you had no idea. It it made you seem more a fool than ever.

But you would not cry. You would not break. Not yet. Not when there was so much still to do.

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txttabloid · 7 months ago

Note

What are all your headcanon memory hopping forms?

I am glad you asked I am shaking violently with excitement.

Canon characters:

Uzi-Hooded Crow

Simple as it’s the one that looks the most like her plush/show form

N-Golden Retriever

Do I even need to explain

V-Serval

I feel she is more than just a regular domestic cat, a serval because of her long legs. The stripes on their back kinda look like DD markings especially around the legs. Also yellow

J-Goat

Mainly because I saw this one furry pic on Twitter that had her as a goat and it’d been canon to me ever since, also most people draw the F DD legs as hooves so perfect. I specifically give her a bell because it’s reminds me of the hc she’s always fidgeting or clicking a pen so the bell gives that fidget. Also for her little form being a lamb is very symbolic with the fact she follows the solver blindly and is ultimately lead to a slaughter for her loyalty. Also the action of goats head butting people is funny and J head butting people would be funny.

Cyn-Maned Wolf

Since maned wolves are like their own thing I thought it would be fitting to make her something that is mistaken for literally everything but itself, to show the trickery. Some people think they are kinda scary for their long limbs and look kind of uncanny, so perfect. Also with her being a predator that could easily hunt the main three/four.

Tessa-Jack russel

Super cute dogs who are kinda small and have a lot to say also sorts nippy so just like Tessa!

Nori-Raven

Big crow version

Yeva-Death Head moth

I wanted her to match her daughter, and the fact an image of a serval having a moth in its mouth is really cool.

Alice-White tailed deer

Do I even need to explain

Beau-leucistic white tailed dear fawn

Little guy. He so Bambi coded

Khan-Giant tortoise

This man is leathery in spirit don’t tell me he’s not, also Tortoise yknow all about shelter DOORS!. You see where I am going, if I could go back he could be fish but I am to far gone with the tortoise.

Teacher-Leopard Gecko

Probably would be eaten by a bird and sorts fly on the wall observer animal

Lizzy- Albino Domestic Bunny

I had this idea to make Lizzy have albinism for my WACA au so I could give her pink eyes and it has infected my whole hcs of her. Also Vizzy is very Bunny x Cat both think they’re in control here.

Thad-Hare

Big version of bun and siblings so perfect

Doll-death head moth

Cool asf moth also death absolutely Doll, plus it’s dark like her hair. I have the skull pattern is the replaced with a solver pattern because cool

Sam-sphynx cat

Bald!

Intern Mitchell/Doll’s dad-Maincoon

Specifically a all black one all human memory hopping forms are pure black to match the shadowy feel

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andresenoire · 4 months ago

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Dämmerungsnebel Griselda : the grey hawk witch

So! The grey spy’s witch form! It’s here! This won’t be posted to my other blog because this one wasn’t a request.

I just thought it would be neat to complete the trio.

Realistically speaking, I don’t think lady grey would actually accept the contract, knowing her gimmick of always winning she’d probably somehow see there’s a secret catch to the contract and reject it.

Some facts about her!

Griselda is a name that means ‘grey battle’

A naming pattern with the spy witch forms is that they’re all named after times of day. Nachtnebel means ‘night mist’, Tagesnebel means ‘day mist’, and Dämmerungsnebel means ‘twilight mist’

Twilight is the time between day and night, I figured it would be a fitting epithet for somebody named after the color between black and white.

Unlike Franz and Parvus, Griselda is the only one whose face isn’t hidden by her hat.

All of the SvS witches have a bird motif to them. Franz has a crow motif, Parvus has a dove motif, Griselda has a grey hawk motif because hawks eat crows and doves.

So, the trio is complete! I had somebody ask me if I’d ever design actual Mahou Shojo forms for the three and I might sometime soon.

#spy vs spy #grey spy

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wittyrogue · 6 months ago

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we all like to joke that zevran's failed contract in origins has lost the crows an entire country but in this essay i will tell you how actually crows are afraid to go further south than the free marches because the black shadow will get them.

lets set the scene: early 9:30 dragon, a hit goes out on two grey wardens from the "ruler" of ferelden. zevran wins the bid and effectively disappears. two grey wardens are still seen out and about. taliesen is later sent to clean it up and also disappears.

their fates, canonically, are "unknown" (per world of thedas, vol. 2 pg 96, screen capped at the bottom of the post for reference).

grandmaster eoman arainai (zevran's master and the one who ordered rinna killed) is killed four months after the blight ends. four other members of house arainai are also killed over the next three years (9:30-33 dragon), taking house arainai from being the house with the eighth talon to obscurity.

grandmaster runn and grandmaster availa are also killed (honestly unclear if they're house arainai or not, but we'll run with them being eoman's replacements 1 and 2), likely around 9:33 or at the latest, 9:34 dragon.

at some point, zevran makes some friends and seems to have worked to fill the ranks of those rising within the crows with those who are similar in his mindset--those that have been cheated out of well earned coin, driven into hiding, or silenced in one way or another, slowly building a rising generation of crows less keen on the old house structure way of doing things.

during this time, whenever zevran is discovered in antiva, he's chased out by the crows, who get as far as rivain or the free marches and then those crows go missing--the implication here being that they chase zevran, only to at some point have the chase twisted and end up killed by zevran's own blade.

also at some point, zevran is caught in a trap by the crows, who continued to hunt him "for the honor of antivan crows" aka a crow never breaks a contract (though at this point claiming zevran as a crow seems like a clerical oversight).

in case you were wondering: - crows: 1 - zevran: 3 grandmasters, 5 assassins (rank or higher), innumerable rank and file lured south

by 9:35 dragon, the guildmaster of rialto has been killed and two guildmasters are said to be in zevran's pocket. first caveat: unclear if this is widespread to all of the crows, or limited to just house arainai. second caveat: guildmaster and grandmaster seem to be used interchangeably? which is mildly frustrating but it is what it is. this is also assumed to do with zevran's escape from wherever they were keeping him captive.

relative radio silence from the maker's perfect boy until 9:40 dragon when he sends an "oops i did it again ;)" letter to leliana apologizing for killing a crow hired to do inquisition business. for the record, this crow is doing business in hercinia at the time, which is in the free marches. this exchange speaks to a pattern of continuing the crow killing business, specifically those going south to the free marches.

now we're up to the current year and lucanis and harding have our oh so charming exchange below (emphasis mine):

Harding: Lucanis, you've never really been to Ferelden? But I thought you traveled all over!

Lucanis: The Crows don't take many contracts there. Not since the Fifth Blight.

Harding: I heard Teyrn Loghain hired Crows in his fight over the throne.

Lucanis: And that's why we don't work there anymore.

Harding: So the Crows don't work in Ferelden anymore because of Loghain? Why, exactly?

Lucanis: House Arainai embarrassed themselves so badly on that job, the Crows buried six different Eighth Talons.

Harding: You're... you're saying they actually die of embarrassment.

Lucanis: Some of them weren't dead at the time. But they got it eventually.

hey scroll up for a second, back to the part where i told you the crows vs zevran tally.

ok come back. thanks.

now at least one of those six #confirmed kills of zevran's is grandmaster eoman arainai, the eighth talon. clearly being a grandmaster and a talon are not conflicting roles. i'd gather, actually, that being grandmaster of the house holding a talon position makes you the talon as well. so zevran's killed at least three arainai talons (eoman, runn, availa). if we put house arainai in rialto, that makes a fourth in 9:35 dragon during zevran's escape from imprisonment for four dead talons, just between 9:30 and 9:35 dragon. i really think in the following handful of years, zevran can do two more. as a treat.

all this to say--in this dialogue with harding, lucanis is putting on his professional customer service voice and saying that no, they just don't really like working in fereldan all that much.

please don't look at the line of dead crows that starts in the free marches.

please ignore the pile of dead eighth talons.

please stop looking at house arainai.

honestly, i think there's a solid argument to be made that zevran's hunting of crows affected a widespread change in his generation of rank and file crows, to the benefit of any follow-on generations. it was mentioned a little how zevran was gathering allies, even paying off guildmasters, and i think it's seen in the fact that arainai hasn't prospered and crows like teia even exist at all.

references under the cut.

#[ rp ] headcanon.#[ i don't want to discount teia in the slightest ]#[ what she did on her own is impressive ]#[ i do think there's a line between zevran and teia tho ]#[ i don't know if any of the changes she's made that are clear in datv could have happened ]#[ without the crows getting killed en masse by zevran ]#[ and therefore allowing the old guard to die off and the newer assassins hungry for change ]#[ anyway hi i'm dean and i can't take a joke ]#[ zevran may have failed in origins but it's been a big W for him ever since ]#[ lucanis is doing a very good job at covering for the crows own embarrassment ]#[ at having an ex crow hunting them personally ]#[ as a hobby and a living ]

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mylifesjustacarousel · 8 months ago

Text

the crow - part II

pairing: monty finch x fem!reader

summary: part two of the crow!

type: angst

CW: swearing, monty kinda trauma dumping ?

WC: 1.3k

part 1 | not proofread!

“None of this even makes sense.”

The long-haired boy, er… bird? Boy? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure what the hell was going on. The boy sat across from you at the kitchen table, after he had found his clothes and gotten dressed, of course, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

“Okay.” You sat up, still trying to process all of the things that you had seen and heard over the past twenty-four hours. “So, you’re telling me that your name is Monty, right? Your name is Monty and you are a bird, who was turned into a human by the crazy lady Esther Finch… then turned back into a bird?”

Monty nodded, his dark brown eyes finally looking up at you. “It’s been a crazy few months, to say the least. A lot of confusing emotions, a lot of heartbreak.”

You glanced over at the window, groaning as you saw the sun starting to peek through the trees. “What’s your plan, Monty? You’re a human… now what?” Monty just shrugged, his eyes darting around the room to avoid yours. “I haven’t really thought that far. I just can’t stay in this house forever. Not anymore. I’ll find somewhere to go, y’know? I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.”

Your guilt was absolutely eating you up inside as you looked at him. Your heart broke for Monty, he just seemed… lost. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and held it out to him. “Throw some clothes in there, you can stay with me until you figure something out.”

“Are you sure, y/n?” he asked, taking the bag from your hands. You nodded. “My life seems to just be getting weirder and weirder by the second, why not? Hurry up, I wanna go home and take a nap. You kept me up all night.”

Monty quickly got up, making his way upstairs to grab whatever clothes of his that he could find. While you waited, you started to wander around the kitchen. Your eyes landed on the bird cage, which you assumed belonged to Monty. Or, at least used to belong to Monty. He wouldn’t have much use for it in his current state.

He soon made his way back downstairs, wearing a black coat over his sweater and the bag, now filled to the brim, in his hand. “Okay! Um, lead the way.” he said, throwing the bag over his shoulder. “Are you sure?” you asked, “Because you seem to already know your way to my place. You coming to my home is actually the reason we’re in this situation.”

“I’m sure.” He nodded. Monty looked over at you, feeling a pang in his chest. The sassy attitude, the quick wit. He knew it all too well. “Capricorn?”

“I’m sorry, what? How did you know?”

“Astrology never lies.” He followed behind you as you led him outside. You groaned, looking back at him. “Oh god, don’t tell me you believe in astrology. That’s just a load of bullshit that hippies push on you.” Monty rolled his eyes, an almost unnoticeable grin on his face. “Almost three thousand years of patterns can’t be wrong. Plus, if you didn’t have even the slightest bit of interest, you probably wouldn’t even know that you’re a Capricorn.”

“I’m gonna need to you stay quiet for a bit, Monty.”

Monty sat on the floor in front of your couch, quietly watching whatever you had on your TV before you left earlier that morning. You were in your teeny tiny kitchen, cooking up some breakfast. Although, you didn’t really have much of an appetite after what your did to that poor bird, er… Monty? You were still so confused.

“Pancakes, Monty?” you called out, peeking your head out from the doorway. Monty looked up at you, a puzzled look on his face. “A what?” he asked. You took a deep breath, your fingers pressing against your temples. “Right, you’re a bird. Um, are you hungry? I’m making food. You know what? I’ll just make you a plate.” You nodded, turning on your heel and going back to the kitchen.

He got up after a few minutes, taking it upon himself to take a look around your place. There wasn’t too much going on decoration wise, but it was cozy and felt like home. Monty picked up a picture frame, running his finger over the black frame. It was a picture of you and a younger girl who looked similar to you. “That’s my little sister, Daphne.”

Monty almost jumped out of his skin as he quickly set the frame down. You snorted, walking over to the coffee table and setting his plate down. “Didn’t mean to scare you, birdie. Um, I made banana pancakes. I don’t know what you like, so I just put some maple syrup on the side. I’m gonna go lay down, I am exhausted.”

“Wait!” Monty quickly said, his hand reaching out to grab yours. “I’ve, um… Can you just sit with me? I’ve been alone for… a while. I’m not ready for that again.” You slowly nodded, holding back any sarcastic or witty remark you had. “Alright. I guess I’ll take a nap on the couch.” you grumbled, sitting down and pulling down the blanket that was neatly folded on the top of the couch. Monty hesitated before sitting down in front of the coffee table, using his fork to pick at the pancakes.

“Monty, you never really told me much about the whole Esther thing. I mean, not in much detail. What happened?” you asked, curling up in your fuzzy blanket. He froze for a second, not knowing whether to tell you the truth or not. “Um… okay. Esther made me human for a revenge plot. There were these two boys, ghost boys, who she was not fond of, to say the least. She made me to help lure them in.” He took a deep breath, his fingers toying with the fork in his hands. You sat up a bit, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if it’s a sore spot.”

“No, no. I think you should know the truth. I’ve been quite deceitful since we first met, haven’t I? Anyway, everything was going smoothly until I met… him. Having all of these emotions… it was a lot. I couldn’t do it, and she could tell. I also loved him, but he didn’t feel the same. Esther then deemed me useless and, before I could even process, I was myself again. The worst part was that I remembered everything, y’know? I can remember all of the heartbreak and tragedy like it just happened to me.”

“I’m sorry, Monty.” you whispered, tears threatening to bubble in your eyes. You knew that it couldn’t have been easy being the pet of Esther Finch, but what happened to him was horrible. “Human emotions are awful, I understand. But, that’s all behind you now. You’re starting fresh. I’m here for you, whether I want to be or not. Ya know where I live, so it’d be hard to get rid of you.”

He nodded, finally starting to eat his breakfast. He took small bites, eating like a bird pecking at a snack. You giggled to yourself as you watched him. “If I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t be surprised that you’re actually a bird. You’re like a bird in a human suit.” Monty groaned, setting his fork down. “Is it that obvious? I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Very, birdie. But, don’t worry, I have quite the experience being a human being.” you yawned through your sentence, curling up on the couch with the blanket wrapped around you. “Will you be alright if I fall asleep? I am literally so tired.” Monty looked back at you, a warm smile on his face. “Go ahead. I’m gonna keep enjoying… whatever these are. They’re delicious.”

You sighed, your eyes involuntarily closing. “Pancakes, Monty. They’re pancakes. I’ll, uh, be here. We’ll figure everything out when I wake up, okay? I’m, uh, I’m not leaving you… at least right now. But, if you keep chewing loudly I might throw you out of the window.”

“Sorry!”

a/n: sorry it was a little short, but i’m working on p3!! <3 LOVE YOU ALL MWAH MWAH MWAH!! also if you want to be added to a taglist lmk?

#_emily’s writing_#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives x reader #monty finch #monty the crow #monty finch x reader #monty the crow x reader

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bee-can-art · 2 years ago

Text

It's taken me two weeks but I finally finished all of my qsmp egg human designs!!!

I have a lot to say about the design choices I made, so I'll put those under the read more if you want to hear my headcanons!!

• Click for better quality (17/07/2023)

_____

Some general headcanons:

• In order of shortest to tallest it goes: Bobby, Richalyson, Gegg, Tallulah, Tilín, Trump, JuanaFlippa, Pomme, Chayanne, Leonarda, Ramón, and Dapper.

• All of the eggs when found were wearing the same white vest/t-shirt and black shorts combination; along with their unique accessories. Any clothes that they're currently wearing, were gifted to them by the player characters.

• All of the eggs are the same age, and are all related (pretty sure that's canon tho).

• The eggs take on physical features from their parents, as an survival instinct. This includes basics such as hair and eye colour. But also includes things such as height and hair type.

• Eggs who's parents are avian/have bird-like features (such as wings), will adapt to have the same wing type as them. This also applies to other eggs, who are taken care of by avian players (see: Tallulah has dragon wings, but is growing black and golden feathers on them).

• The lower half of the eggs are dragon-esque; with scaley legs and clawed feet. The colour of their scales and number of toes that they posses are fixed and cannot be changed. Their ears and horn are a unique shape and colour, depending on the egg. The horns will continue to grow into adulthood.

They also have more naturally sharpened nails (like claws (but not sharp enough to hurt)).

_____

Tallulah

• Wears one of Wilbur's yellow sweaters, the sleeves often hanging over her hands. The red dress she wears is actually meant to be a pinafor, which is a staple part of a primary school uniform, here in the UK. They're most commonly grey, which I originally coloured it but it didn't look right, so I changed it.

• Has a freckle under her right eye (to her) that matches Wilbur, but also has a reverse freckle pattern of Quackity (I'm a tntduo-er (sue me)).

• Due to being cared for by Phil, she has begun growing small, black feathers on her wings. She also has a few golden ones, which started appering whilst trying to get Quackity to confess to Wilbur.

___

Chayanne

• Takes after Phil the most, due to Missa's absence. This includes his wings becoming feathered crow ones, growing feathers on his face and tail, and has a hair and an eye colour to match Phil's. He also has a matching mole.

• Sometimes wears a helmet made from a large eggshell, painted to look like a skull (a nod to Missa and the fact that the eggs are... well, eggs). The skull on his t-shirt is also a nod to Missa (but he defo got it from Phil).

• His duck floaty has been replaced by a yellow hoodie, tied around his waist.

___

Tilín

• Remember how I said that the clothes they wear were given to them by their parents? I like the idea (and think it's very in-character for him) that Quackity basically said, "I don't have any clothes for you, so just wear this until I find some", giving Tilín one of his jackets, and then they Tilín passed away before he could get him something else.

• He and Tallulah are the same height (again, I'm a tntduo-er (yes I am aware that Tilín's other parent has been confirmed to be Luzu, but this is my post so SHUSH). Also, similar to Tallulah, they have the same freckle pattern as Quackity, and an opposite placed freckle (under their left eye) to Wilbur.

• Has golden wings and feathers on face. Doesn't has a tail, due to low placement of their wings.

___

JunaFlippa

• Wears one of Slime's white t-shirts with the three red hearts. Also owns a pair of Mariana's red gloves (not included in the drawing).

• Her wings have small holes in them, due to going to hell and coming back again.

• Gun.

• Her hair colour is closest to Slimecicle's, but it's unknown why her eyes are green (not brown like Mariana or blue like Slime).

___

Bobby

• The smallest of all the eggs.

• From Jaiden he has her wings, bang and hair sprout pattern and colour. From Roier he has his multiple eyes (bc spider), eye colour, and wears one of his bandanas like him.

(I forgot to include the paint stains on his clothes, but he has those too).

___

Leonarda

• Has small, rainbow mushrooms growing from their horns.

• From Foolish she has wings of gold (yes, you heard me. Leo's wings aren't like Tilín's with golden feathers, but are literally made from gold (yes she can still fly with them)). From Vegetta they have his hair and eye colour.

___

Trump

• Was given one of Dan's turtlenecks and jackets, which were never replaced because, 1) Dan went "missing", 2) he [Trump] died before getting anything else.

(On another note, it was so wild for me to draw that jacket. I used to be a HUGE DanTDM fan, and the last time I drew fanart relating to him was in 2016/17)).

• Took after Maxo in hair and eye colour.

___

Dapper

• The tallest egg (bc qBBH is one tall motherfucker). • Obviously, all of his features come from BBH, including the shape of his horns and the shape of his tail.

(if you were to put Dapper and BBH next to each other, Dapper would literally just look like a tiny BBH).

___

Pomme

• Her beret isn't all black like her egg model, but looks like a red apple.

• Has split-coloured scales (one side blue, the other red) to match the placement of the markings on her egg model.

• Has golden duck wings to match Baghera. I went back and forth on whether to give her those or the butterfly wings she wears in-game. But I like the idea that those are more simialr to those fancy-dress type ones you can buy.

• The bottom of her dress has an apple stiched onto it.

___

Ramón

• Second tallest egg.

• Yes he has hair under the hat (I haven't made him bald, don't worry). The hat itself is a nod to Spreen, who is his other parent but hasn't logged on in a while. His general outfit is also mean to have belonged to Spreen, as his Minecraft skin is just a bear in Steve's clothes.

I changed the pants, and added a white shirt and monocle because I like the idea that he's a bit of a fancy boy.

• The moustache on his egg model is represented in his hair, which you can see sticking out from under the hat (bc, like Chayanne, I had no idea how to get it to work in a logical sense).

___

Richarlyson

• The second shortest egg.

• I'll be completely honest, I have no idea where the prosthetic leg headcanon came from for him, but I liked it so I included it. The leg I gave him is a running blade, as he is a fairly active kid.

• His hair covers his eyes, but underneath they are brown.

___

Gegg

(Yes I'm including Gegg, shush)

• His whole body is green goop. This is how qSlime would also look, but it's easier for him to have his skin appear human, when at his "correct" size. When he [Slime] becomes over emotional/damged, his skin becomes more slime like.

Gegg is qSlime's way of coping with both his own daughter's loss and also his own self image. Because of this, he is always in a state of hurt, and this is refelected in Gegg's physical appearance.

• Has sticks sticking out of him, as well as visible bones, rocks, and other debris within his body. They get stuck in his him, in moments where he has a hard time controling the stickiness/consistency of his body.

• Doesn't have horns, wings, or a tail like the other eggs. Instead, he wears a pair of green, fancy-dress, dragon wings. It's obvious to other players/eggs- because they're on the outside of his clothes- but no points it out.

• Jorts.

• His t-shirt says "gegg" upside down, because he wrote it on himself, whilst wearing the shirt.

• No nose. His eyes also hover inconsistently over where his hair should cover them. His glasses are also just qSlime's.

• Gegg for president.

Here's the full lineup, for anyone who read alllll of that :D

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iztea · 1 year ago

Note

How do you get the ideas for your backgrounds?

mmm ideas.... sometimes i draw the background directly from a photo reference (the happy case) so there's not a lot for me to change and i can have a rather peaceful painting process

othertimes, the BG is tied to the subject/concept/scene I'm thinking of, so it only makes sense that i have that as the background

for example, for this fem skk art, i knew i wanted to have chuu kneeling in a crater after destroying a city so drawing that background was just a logical follow-up because i already had the entire idea in mind

Here, I wanted to have Akiangel sit on a building, watching over the city. The ominous sign with "the day of salvation" and crow came later after I found this picture on Pinterest, so they helped further develop the concept, but the main idea was there and so on

The third background option happens when my painting doesn't depict a certain irl scene or landscape, nor do i have any particular references i can use. In that situation, I first and foremost think about the general composition, the shapes, how they flow with each other, how I can tie them to my main theme and what sort of symbolism or little easter eggs i can throw in there just to keep it fresh and interesting for the viewer ( aka the person reading this aha ;;) :-* )

For this piece, i started with a big circle for the background, and then I started breaking it up in pleasing, cloud-like shapes and swirls that constantly keep your eye moving around the picture (i mean hopefully lol). The composition was inspired by a) Dazai's Mayoi card ofc, that trad Eastern illustration style with the circle and then branches of trees, and also .. kazuha's splash art ok i admit it bshsj

for this one, the roses came much, much later. Again, I added that sort of golden arcade to better frame the focal point or the main subject of the scene which was ofc her face and/or outfit. Then, since it still felt rather empty, awkward, and directionless, I tried finding a pleasing, spiral line that would compliment the already existing shapes and that would, again, move your eye all around the composition. I figured since her outfit already had those small roses stuffed in her belt, those curvy lines could become some bloody, spikey roses and boom! here are the theme and elements for you: blacks-roses-blood-deadly-sharp-gold etc. I then had her crush some of those roses in her right (ik it's the left hand shut up) hand to balance out the busier left side

and a last example, sometimes I draw multiple character poses in one piece and they sort of become my background. Yet I still have some blank spaces left so i gotta figure out a way to fill them out. Here, since the pose where he's all curled up was inspired by the TDIPUD light novel, i drew him as a "corpse" in a pool of blood, and contrasted it with some nice flowery-ish patterns and swirls that sort of come from within that bloody mess ( someone also mentioned it looks like a womb which I found very interesting as well ). The cats also helped fill out the space. On the left side, i added that swirly black sun that drips into three squares that gradually fill up with straight blackness and raindrops falling below inspired by the "a conviction that the sun will never rise again" line. I don't think I should go into detail with the symbolism cause it's pretty obvious and not that deep so i won't but yeah, and that's my BG all filled up!

I do this with most of my BGs, it's mostly just abstract shapes; I'm very fixated on making the overall composition look okay and for the piece to send a message ( most of the time ), so i don't think of backgrounds as a separate entity, they are part of an already existing idea, generally speaking.

This kinda turned into a composition discussion midway......... sorry about that....... To be completely honest with you, I have plenty of BG ideas, they kinda just spawn in my brain so i'm not exactly lacking in that department. Having to draw them and finding refs is the hard part for me

#long post #what's new #i genuinely enjoy talking about this so thanks for the question #i hope it helped?#bottom line is - direct refs - already existing ideas - abstract shapes and symbols that work well together #ask iztea #this is nothing new under the sun im aware it's just what i do #ask iztea: art talk

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harpyraven · 2 months ago

Text

"The Awakening"

(I have really bad English. I'm sorry🙇)

(My one art☝️)

Her mind seemed to float in the void. Dark, boundless, and cramped at the same time. There is no one in it except girl, she can't see anything in it, she can't hear anything. Her mind seemed to fall silent, and the girl slowly and surely dissolved into nothingness.

Suddenly, girl began to wake up. Barely opening her eyes, she felt a wild pain in her head and... darkness.

"Mmmh, w-where am I?" What is that sound? Y-is it morning already?" - girl tried to get up, but put her hands on the wall.

"Wait, am I locked in a drawer?" Have I been kidnapped?!" - girl clapped her hands on the wooden wall in fright, and then she heard a noise outside. Someone's thin voice groaned nearby, and then, the lid of the box lit up. Feeling the heat, girl got scared and with scream, jerked out the lid.

"Fnya?! Why did you wake up?!" - the first thing what girl saw, was stunned face of a gray cat, only… He had blue flames in his ears, like the one that set her on fire, and a tail like a pitchfork.

"Huh? T-talking cat? And-and are these flying coffins?!" - Girl stared at the coffins hanging in the air, her gray eyes bulging. And it turns out that I was also lying in a coffin.

"What the hell is this? Am I already dead or am I still sleeping?" - girl looking around in an unfamiliar place.

"Do you dare to ignore me when I'm standing in front of you?! It's a great fortune for you to look at me, Grimma-sama!" - strange cat indignantly folded his paws on his sides. - "First, you need to give me these clothes. Otherwise… I'll burn you!". With these words, he threateningly released blue flashes from his mouth.

Girl lowered her gaze. She was wearing a battered red hoodie with a hood pulled over her head and black pants with sneakers. And on her body was a smooth purple cloth with gold patterns embroidered on it. She spread her robe in front of her, and sighed enthusiastically,

"Wow! So beautiful!"

"Yes! And you have to give it to me! Now!" - cat exclaimed angrily, releasing more fire.

This scared the girl more, and she took her clothes in her arms, got to her feet and ran from this fire-breathing monster.

Girl ran without understanding road. She ran through the corridors, through the halls, up the stairs, there was no exit anywhere. She turned into one room that looked like a library. Noticing that monster was far away from her, she looked at the robe again, it seemed to fit her in size. There were strange sounds from behind and the girl became quiet, pressing herself against the wall.

She cautiously peeked out the door and noticed several people in the same clothes that she was holding. The girl didn't know who these people were or what they were like, but she decided to wear a robe just in case, so as not to draw attention to herself.

Throwing on a quick robe, carefully hiding his clothes under it and tucking her blonde hair, tied in a low ponytail, behind the hood. As soon as she relaxed, cat-monster jumped out in front of her again.

" There you are! You can't run away from me! Now give me the robe in a good way or I will... "

*whip!*

A whip struck the animal's body out of nowhere.

—"Kya? It hurts! What kind of violence is this?! "

—"It's not violence at all, but the "Whip of Love!" — a tall man came out. He grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck.

("My..., that's an outfit!") - the girl was surprised to herself.

The man had an ornate elegant suit, a cape with black feathers on his shoulders, a black top hat with a small mirror and feathers, and three matching mirrors on his belt with dangling keys, and a black mask covering half his face from under which his eyes shone with yellow lights. He was so shiny. He looked like a raven. In one hand he held the so-called "Love Whip", and in the other he held a cane in the form of a golden key with a handle in the shape of a crow.

(Not mine)

The girl blinked, examining the strange man, he also looked at her.

"Ah, I've already searched for you. Are you one of the newbies this year? You are not allowed to leave the room with the doors..." - while the man was scolding the child in a stern voice, all she had in her head was ("Man, who the hell are you?") The girl stood rooted to the spot, afraid to even squeak.—"...In addition, bringing untamed creatures is prohibited by school rules."

"Let me go! I don't even know who he is! - the monster began to squirm, trying to escape from the man's grip. The girl didn't understand what was going on here at all.

"Yes-yes, that's what all familiars say. It's better to be quiet for a while." — man closed the cat's mouth, he growled indignantly.

"That's right, it's inconceivable for a student to leave a room with doors without permission. Oh, how impatient are you?"

"Aah, uh..."

"Let's go, let's go! You have to stand in front of a Dark Mirror."— the man didn't even listen and took the child out of the room.

"What? Which newcomers? Which doors?"

"When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in a room with many doors, right?"

"Mm, I only saw coffins, flying coffins, really." - girl hoped she didn't look like a insane.

"These are the doors! All the students use these doors to get here. And usually students don't wake up until you open their door with a special key." — his look was judgmental.

("Oh, so people just lie in these coffins until they're remembered, right? How can they not suffocate there?") - the girl thought, discouraged by what was happening.

"Well, it's like a flame blew the lid off..." she said the first thing that came to mind, unable to find a suitable excuse.

"I knew it was caused by this demon. If you brought him with you, take responsibility for his misdeeds."

("Wait, so it's my fault that I ended up in a coffin, I don't understand how I was almost burned by this demon?" )- the girl was indignant.

"Oh, this is not the time to talk. If we don't hurry up, the new student admission ceremony will be over. Come on, let's go." — the man pulled me by the hand.

��What? W-where are you taking me?!"— the girl protested. - ("What kind of novice ceremony is this? Wait a minute, so all these coffins, the fire-breathing cat in the hand of this costumed man, the robe on me… Am I in a cult?! Oh, nonono... please don't!")

"What is it… Don't be stubborn, you'll get lost alone."

"First of all, explain to me who you are, what kind of place this is, and how did I get here why?" - girl stared at the man indignantly. He turned his head to me. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was confused.

"Oya? You still haven't realized? Maybe you forgot because of the magic of moving in space. Well, that happens a lot." - Man shrugged his shoulders.

"Huh???" - Girl almost fell over.

(I see, so it's still a sect, and this crazy guy seems to be in charge here.)

"Hush, let me explain on the way. Because I'm so kind!" - Man said the last with a special intonation, smiling. He pulled the child harder, making her soles creak on the ground.

They went out into some kind of courtyard, how big is this place. The girl looked around, trying to figure out how to escape from here.

The man began to explain that this place was called the Night Raven College, a school of magic. He ntroduced himself as Dire Crowley, and he is the Headmage at this college. Girl was still confused, not understanding what college was and what magic was.

"...Only those who have been recognized by the Mirror of Darkness as good magicians can enter this school. Selected people from all over the world are called to this school through the "doors". Was the black carriage with the "doors" supposed to come for you too?" - Crowley looked down at the child.

"Black carriage? Arh!" - girl clutched her forehead painfully.

("Carriage… I think so...") A very vague memory appeared in head. ("A dense forest, me, a carriage ran over me, a horse reared up, kicked its hoof, and... that's probably why my head still hurts.)

(That's mine)

"Horses also had such frightening faces..." girl whispered.

"This carriage was supposed to be a welcome for the newcomer who was chosen by the Mirror of Darkness. This is a special carriage that delivers the "doors" to the school." - explained Crowley.

"Very good greeting". - gloomily replied girl, rubbing her head. ("At least I'm lucky to be alive.")

("In other words, this carriage ran over me and brought me here without my permission?!") The girl's eyes widened. ("I was literally knocked out and abducted. It's awesome if they ask me for a bill for the trip...")

Grimm hummed again. Girl already forgot he was here too.

"And now, let's go to the admission ceremony." -without paying attention, the director dragged the child along with him again.

"I'm not going anywhere! Let me go! I've made a mistake here! I've been kidnapped! I have to go home! " - girl protested, trying to pull away.

"What kind of kids went? Stop bickering!" - Crowley was annoyed, but don't let go hand child with a death grip, stubbornly dragging him along the road.

The huge hall shone with a festive and important atmosphere, completely filled with people in robes. There was a man-sized mirror in the center of the hall, and coffins hovered above the ceiling. All the guys present were sitting in their seats, chatting enthusiastically among themselves. Dormleaders were already about to finish the ceremony and lead the students away to the dormitories.

Door slammed open. The Headmage himself, appeared in the doorway, holding something moving under his armpit in one hand.

"I'm sorry, one student was missing, and I, ahem, went in search of him." - Headmage continued to stretch out his hand, which was reaching back somewhere, clearly annoying Headmage.

"Now! Since you're the only one who hasn't been assigned to the dorm, quickly go to the Dark Mirror while I hold the tanuki!" Crowley almost growled, pulling out hall.

"LET ME GOOOOO!!!"

The robed student croaked loudly to the entire hall. The director yanked him out of the doorway, so hard that he fell to the floor.

Kid stood up, brushing herself off. As soon as she raised her head, she squeaked, pursing her lips and bulging her eyes, clutching the hood on her head.

"Holy crap, what kind of cultists are here?!" - flashed through the girl's mind.

Thousands of eyes stared at her questioningly. And all of them were boys.

The first thing that occurred to the frightened girl, was to pull the hood up as much as possible so that her face would not be visible. She turned around when she saw that the director had closed the door, blocking the escape route.

—"Come on, child. Be brave." - Headmage pushed the child from behind.

Slouching, the girl walked forward, straight to the huge mirror, from which appeared a face like a mask, enveloped in green fire. People continued to glare at the girl, muttering something to each other. Girl felt, to put it mildly, uneasy. Mentally, she had already prepared for the worst, saying goodbye to life.

"Its... Just a dream..." - she calming herself.

Girl stood at the mirror, looking at the stern face in the mirror.

"Tell me your name." - Mirror asked clearly, without taking its empty eye sockets off the girl.

She took a deep breath, but immediately froze in place.

"I am....... Who am I?"

Body felt cold.

("I can't tell my name! I don't remember my name! Who am I ?!!")

Girl slowly began to panic. Her heart began to beat louder, her breathing quickened, and cold sweat broke out on her face.

"Poor thing, she looks really nervous." - a swarthy, cheeky and sweet guy whispered regretfully from a bench standing apart from the others.

"Can it be faster?" - The boy with the red hair frowned.

"Sloppy appearance, insecure personality. I think he's going to Ignihide." - said the blond man next to him.

"Even from here, I can feel how nervous he is in front of a lot of people, Vil-senpai. Well, I understand him." - flying tablet sighed.

The girl tensed, remembering her name. She rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. The letters were slowly appearing in my head.

"Al....." - the girl pronounced the first letters.

"Al?" - the red-haired boy looked curious.

—"... Yuu....." - the girl howled the last uncertainly.

Al Yuu.

it looks like that's the only thing she could get out of herself. The whispers became clearer.

"Al Yuu. The shape of your soul...." - Mirror fell silent, peering at me intently. He noticed surprise for a second, then confusion. Finally, he answered.

"I have no idea."

Deathly silence froze in the hall.

"What does it mean?" - Crowley was very surprised.

(from anime trailer)

"I can't feel the wave of this child's soul... I can't determine either the color or the shape. This means that he does not possess magic and is not suitable for any dormitory." - verdict was loudly announced by face from reflection.

Hall was noisy again. Cat was still able to slip out from under the director's hands, quickly running ahead.

"Then you'd better give that place to me!" Unlike this man, I can use magic! Then why don't you take me to school? I'll show you how amazing my magic is!" - tanuki jumped up high, took a deep breath, and a whole stream of fire splashed out of his mouth, right at the people.

In Hall began real chaos. Someone's butt was set on fire he was running around in a panic. Someone was arguing with others, deciding who would catch the fire-breathing monster. And someone just sat with indifference watching what was happening.

Girl just stood in shock, in the midst of this chaos.

"What the hell?..."

But in the end, someone decided to end the fire. It was a short boy with red hair. His angry gaze was directed at the monster. He took out an object that looked like a pen with a red stone on it. The next moment, with a confident look, he loudly said,

"Off your head!"

There was a click and a collar appeared on the monster's neck. Fire stopped and beast was chased away, despite his protests.

People calmed down and began to disperse, following the leaders of the dormitories. The ceremony was declared over.

Only Crowley and a girl named Al Yuu standing in the hall.

Sorry for many mistakes. I hope you enjoy it. Say if you need more)

Thanks for attention!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #twst fic #Alyssa in Twisted wonderland #twst original character #twst yuusona #alyssa #twst grimm #dire crowley #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #idia shroud #fanfic

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