#are these people not familiar with the concept of chosen names?

[luckywolfsbane]

"Your deadname is the only name you can have because it’s what you were named at birth"

Shut up. My Grandpa--a straight cis man from birth to death; WW2 motorpool veteran; kind-hearted fucking survivor; who grew up farming with horse and buggy--went by Dike because he didn't LIKE HIS OWN BIRTHNAME.

Dike: a long wall or embankment built to prevent flooding from the sea.

I have no idea WHERE he got the name, but I've always assumed it was from his military service. Doesn't matter, BECAUSE HE USED IT SO MUCH THAT THEY HAD TO NOTE IT ON HIS OBITUARY AND AT HIS FUNERAL IN 2008.

SO FUCK YOU.

[h2llish]

i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!

if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !

— ☁️

⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS

notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread

transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.

the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.

students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often).  and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half. 

“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”

ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”

grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”

“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”

“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed. 

you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.

you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

and right you were. 

things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.

epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either. 

you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.

you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat. 

leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.

“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.

“sitting next to you, obviously.”

leona rolled his eyes, “why?”

instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.

"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.

"yup."

leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.

the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.

leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.

he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.

"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.

he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.

leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)

this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[mtchee]

"Ahh, the art of mixology... and tea! Hehe~" "Are you familiar with ay mixes? Any preferences? We can do.."

M O N D S T A D T

"...Blueberry & mint!" - Albedo Kreideprinz

Inconspicuous Observations - GN You thought your little crush on Albedo was a secret only you would know. However, you suspect that might not be the case when the very subject of your affections seems to know more than he lets on...

"...Cranberry, apple, & chili!" - Diluc Ragnivir

Disdain, or Desire? - GN Interpreting the Wine Master's unblinking stares and impassive features as a form of distain, you're in for a pleasurable surprise after the meddling of a few friends.

"...Rose water & plum!" - Lisa Minci

Lovely Morning - GN Waking up slow on a late morning, an onslaught of teasing and sweet nothings are murmured by your mischevious lover, coaxing you to stay a little longer~

L I Y U E

"...Persimmon, jasmine, & mint!" - Zhongli

Bubble Along the Surface - GN A minor god awakened years after the Archon War, and with your brother, Osial, pinned to the depths below, you've made your own way in the world. its only now you have the chance to finally step foot in Liyue, meeting a tall and handsome man who eventually comes to be your beloved--but not without a few misunderstandings. My Chosen Beloved - GN When you hear that you're cursed by something unknown, your fears are only confirmed when you're given to your Archon as a sacrifice to save your village. Except, since arriving at his hidden chambers, you've seen neither hide nor hair of him. Only his pet dragon, Morax, lazes about in the mountainscape to accompany you. Welp, new best friend! Even if it is a sassy lizard. What... What do you mean, he is the sassy lizard...

"...Mint, lime, & lychee!" - Xiao

Quiet to a Fault - GN After rookie adventurer [name] no longer has the traveller and Paimon around to serve as a buffer between the awkwardness of them and Xiao, your presumptions about the adepti's opinion surrounding you are proven to be not at all what you had thought--but very much more pleasurable.

I N A Z U M A

menu coming soon~

S U M E R U

menu coming soon~

F O N T A I N

menu coming soon~

N A T L A N

menu coming soon~

S C H N E Z N A Y A

menu coming soon~

Seasonal Specials! - A Series of Drabbles/Imagines/Oneshots

S A G A U S T O R I E S

An Honour to be Had - GN Eventually, after accustomising to your odd new life as Teyvat's Beloved (a title which you felt you very strongly did not need nor deserve), someway, somehow, the topic of your love life comes up. Of course, ensues much embarassment on your end, and much excitement from everyone else on the other.

An Honour to be in a Harem!? - GN 18+ [MDNI] afab! ver. | amab! ver. The concept of all these gorgeous people bowing before you is hard to grasp, but it's even worse to think that they'd actually offer themselves to you as a love interest. Unfortunately (or fortunately, actually) they seem quite boggled at your output. Ah! It all makes sense now! Their dearly Beloved is the shy type! Worry not, your Grace! Your dearest acolytes are more than happy to bask in any sort of attention you decide to share! Rest assured, they'll take care of all your needs~ An Honour to be Desired - GN 18+ [MDNI] afab! ver. | amab! ver. A continuation of the events in which your beloved acolytes worship and adore you, just as you've fantasised.

[flamebearrel]

“But Kris, if I wanted to watch Anim vs. with all the different series how should I even go about it??”

It largely depends on the topics and cast you’re interested in seeing. The show is split into three subseries as well as the occasional standalone episode: Animator vs. Animation (the original created in 2006-7 by Alan Becker alone), Animation vs. Minecraft (the longest and most popular, shorts stemming off a standalone from 2015), and Animation vs. Education (the newest from 2023, visualizing high-level STEM concepts)

Personally, I think core AvA is required reading for anyone who has appreciation for past eras of the internet, UI, or principles and genres of animation. AvM and AvE are equal in quality but honestly you won’t appreciate them as much if you aren’t familiar with the topics they cover. Alan and his team do try to visually introduce things step by step, though, so you can at least get a general idea of what you’re looking at

Besides that, core AvA specifically follows the Hollow-Heads, hand-drawn stick figures created by the Animator, “noogai”/Alan. In particular you have The Chosen One (shortened to Chosen, Cho or TCO) and The Second Coming (aka Second, Sec, TSC or Orange). TSC is the de facto main character and the only one appearing in all three series, while TCO and the Animator are exclusive to the original.

The SticksFight squad - the four sticks originating from sticksfight.com and named after their colors - have developed distinct personalities as the main cast of AvM, but only take a collective side role in main AvA (Yellow has a slightly larger role than the others). Here’s a summary of their individual personalities so you know what to look for in their smaller appearances

Red - Impulsive and energetic, always the first to jump into action and with a soft heart for creatures and beasties. He’s a little simple when it comes to technical things, but excels with reading the people around him, then building off of their quirks. Since the rest of the group babies him a bit, he puts in extra physical work to prove he can hold his own. Red also tends to play around with new or out-of-the-box solutions - knowledge that extends to his pranks. Most ready to fight with his fists or use heavy-hitters like maces and clubs. (Good intro/focus eps: The Rediscovery, Texture Pack, Monster School, The Prank)

Blue - A mellow fellow! Blue is one with nature and focuses on farming, cooking, and potionology. Due to her pacifistic tendencies, Blue prefers to reason things out or find other solutions rather than fighting, but will throw herself into the face of danger for others. Otherwise she takes up ranged weapons like guns and bows. She’s detail- and aesthetic-oriented as well as graceful, but doesn’t often step outside what she knows. A bit of an addiction to nether wart, which is somewhere between an unusual snack and a drug. (Good intro/focus eps: Potions, The Piglin War, The Chef, Blue’s New Superpower)

Yellow - She loves more than anything to get down to the root of things, and that makes her the group’s engineer! …And a bit of a troublemaker, paying more attention to the thrill of a discovery than the consequences. Yellow tries to find fairness and justice for friend and foe alike. While they have a reliable, supportive demeanor, they’re also very peppy, excitable and tough with how they stand strong in dire situations. Often her fighting style takes place behind the scenes, using things like explosives or a command-casting staff. (Good intro/focus eps: The Roller Coaster, Command Blocks, Lucky Blocks, AvArcade Games)

Green - Originally the weakest on the team, but has since come into his own after a lot of reflex training (read: getting tossed around). Green has great adaptability to learning new techniques and getting creative, particularly with styles of music and architecture. He loves the spotlight and usually competes with the others or takes the chance to show off; however, he also cares deeply about welcoming in those he meets. Dashes and zips around all the time during battle, usually via fishing rod-grappling hook. (Good intro/focus eps: AvYouTube, Note Blocks, PvP, The Dolphin Kingdom)

If you’re just gonna watch the REQUIRED ones this is what I recommend:

AvA s1 (1-4, previously I-IV)

AvMinecraft (original)

AvYouTube

AvA s2 (5-8, previously “shorts” combining into V)

AvMath

AvA s3 (9-ongoing)

That way you get the introduction of both subseries, with how each establishes the cast/direction, as well as one standalone. I put vs. YT here since it best fits the theme imo but you could go with vs. Pokémon or vs. Arcade Games if you prefer

If you’re willing to take on AvM/the rest of the series this is pretty much the order of the timeline:

AvA s1

AvM (original)

AvYouTube

AvM shorts s1 (1-14)

AvLeague of Legends (required for an AvM character’s development)

AvM shorts s2 (15-19)

AvA s2

Other standalones

AvM shorts s3 (20-30)

AvE (ongoing)

AvA s3 (ongoing)

AvM shorts s4 (ongoing)

Or just follow my playlist!!!

[azullumi]

alhaitham — academic rivals ☆彡

summary — the relationship between you two are merely rivals in the akademiya or so you probably thought.

pairing — alhaitham/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff (kinda), the trope enemies to lovers but academic rivals instead; headcanons

word count — 902

a/n — i haven't wrote for him after a long time (that long time was 3 days ago)

being a renowned scholar of the akademiya and being on par to the famous scribe really does bring a lot of things in your life. both negative and positive events to your everyday occurrence.

"are you reading?"

"it's amazing how you have eyes but never see the use of them."

you don't know which one's personality is at fault here but one thing is for sure, if alhaitham wasn't as frank and rational—to the point that some of his actions and words are simply just unacceptable to your moral concepts— as he is, you would be getting along with him just fine.

you also don't know if it's due to your clashing beliefs and ideas that you two just couldn't get along. or is it really just that or he just refuses to do so? eitherways, he still irks you off in multiple ways. even when it's just the sound of his breathing.

the two of you compete against each other in terms of being the best among you, as such your relationship is treated as something simply born and made by a competition, an unnatural way to form a connection with another but that's just how it is.

''are you now starting to realize that you like me after all?"

"i've learnt to endure and bear with your presence."

sarcasms, creative remarks as comebacks to one another's argument, teasing and joking words that leads to banters and bickering, and many more. you'll probably only get along with him only when the world ends. it was obvious even from a stranger's perspective that you were not on good terms with him.

but despite that, there was never a time that you two have touched on a sensitive subject while arguing or have you two said anything personal and mean that it crossed the line. it's just some useless and close-to-nothing banters that always occur—to which it has become part of your daily routine.

however, the fact that you two work really well when it comes to projects and research is something that can't be denied. even when there are countless arguments being shared because of differences in opinion, you two still end up getting the work done flawlessly.

although you could still recall vividly as clear skies the memory of when a student once said how you're only able to attain such a high academic standing and image due to you often being paired by a great scholar like alhaitham—also the man you refuse to be near to, and that all credits for the projects and research papers you have published all goes to him. if you were even given the chance, you would have chosen someone else as your pair but you don't.

this is probably part of the reason why you have a certain yet unexplained dislikeness for him. his existence basically shadows over yours.

it feels horrible having all of your hard work and effort being disregarded but hearing such words are just something common and expected so you ought to ignore it not until you hear a familiar voice speak up.

"are people like you really bound to judge and speak about things you have no knowledge of? shouldn't you focus on finishing your research papers instead of gossiping and talking about other people's lives?"

"you don't know (name) or anything that they do. i have seen how they work so hard to attain their goal and put everything that they can just to do so. witnessing you bad-mouth them while you're at that state doesn't make you look better but rather a fool."

you could immediately tell that it was him, the said man who, from the other students' perspective, deserves all the credit for every project.

he wasn't as bad as you thought and maybe for once, just this moment, you're thankful and grateful to him. but this raises the question, why would he even care to do that? he's most likely the type of person to just walk pass and just let them fools talk bad about others before reporting their conduct to the office.

honestly, this isn't the first time he has done such a thing. in moments more than one, he would often show that he cares for you as a partner (academic) and as something that is more than strangers but less than friends, occasionally speaking up for you when you can't, being cautious and keeping you safe, knowing the foods you can't eat and avoiding from ordering it when he would take you out for a meal just to discuss about your progress in the part of the project/research, and many more.

you suppose it's only an act of courtesy and him being a gentleman though isn't it too much? you just refuse to overthink it and not put any meaning behind his actions. simply just reasoning it that alhaitham is a human that have a heart behind that demeanor of his.

"why do you even care? i don't understand you sometimes. you act like you don't like me then the next you do those things that keeps me up at night."

"when have i ever said that i don't like you? you have a great mind, (name), think."

the only thing you know the two of you share is the relationship of being rivals and probably only just that. 

— navigation | masterlist

[akiology]

Home || Goro Akechi x Reader

Word Count: 995 Summary: You take home a little kitten, and you and Goro are now parents to this adorable little bundle of fur. Note: requested! fem reader! i didnt directly name the little kitten (only a few affectionate nicknames), so feel free to insert your chosen names!

Before meeting Goro, home was an unfamiliar concept for the both of you. Of course, there is the house that you go home to, and Goro had a house he goes home too. But the feeling of familiarity and comfort was nowhere to be found. The warm welcome followed with a loving parent's embrace... was not quite there. For the longest time, home was a distant concept, a pretender’s game, trying to blend right in by mimicking what you see and hear. Fake it ‘til you make it, they say. Maybe one day, when you say that you are ‘home’, you will finally believe it.

Until you found each other, and perhaps home was more than a house you go back to every night.

You snapped out of your trance when your classmate, quite literally, snapped their fingers in front of you. “So? Will you take her?” they asked, while holding a small kitten. She had white fur and black muzzle, and could fit in the palm of your hand.

When your classmate handed her to you, the kitten reached out and as you held her she placed her paw on you as if to say 'Don't let me go, please.'

Now you stand in front of your apartment door and bring her close to your face, "My little baby, you are going to see your father now. He just got home," you whispered. She opened her eyes and her head turned to the direction of the door. It was as if she knew what you were talking about. You giggled and knocked at the door using your foot.

You heard some shuffling inside, and after hearing footsteps approaching, the doorknob finally turned.

"My princess, did y-" Goro stopped after seeing the kitten you held in your arms, "Oh? Who's this?"

"This is our child!"

/./

"So what should we name her?"

After telling the story of how you got the adorable little kitten to Goro and getting some old clothes you no longer need as a makeshift bed, you now settle in the living room with the kitten currently lying down and observing her parents.

"Why don't we name her after you?" Goro winked.

"But wouldn't that be confusing?"

Goro shrugged and held his hand out for the kitten. She turned around and placed her paw on it. Goro smiled.

"Aww~ She likes you! That's your papa, my little baby!" you cooed at her.

Goro blushed, "P-papa?"

"Yes! We are her family now. I'm her mama, which naturally makes you her papa!"

Goro's face turned even redder, and so he clasped a hand over his face and turned. It was embarrassing, but he very much liked the idea of playing house with you. A part of him feels guilty because he feels too happy. Is he even deserving of it? Before he could even go down the hole of dangerous thoughts, the kitten climbed over his lap. 'Papa, pay attention to me,' she seems to say.

Goro smiled and picked her up, snuggling her close. You scooched closer to the both of them and embraced them. Welcome home.

/./

During the weekend, Goro had to work overtime. So you spent the whole day with your little baby. You got a long cloth, and tied it around your neck for a makeshift sling bag that could fit your little kitten.

She behaved the whole time while you shopped. You bought a few clothes for her, a bed, food, and other necessities she may need. A few people were in awe whenever she popped out of hiding, and a few kids waved at her.

As you were taking a short break from your shopping, your phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"My princess, how are you?"

"Oh, I am good! I went out to buy a few things for our little baby," you told him, and felt some stirring on your lap. The kitten seems to be hyper aware of you, inspecting the magical electronic box in your hands that has her father's voice.

"Ah, I wish I could be there, by the way don't buy any treats. I saw some on the way to work and I'm gonna pick up some before going home.”

And sure enough, when he got home that night, he brought home some sweets for you and snacks for your little kitten. He tried to quietly turn the lock of the door, as he was home late, careful to not wake you up if ever. He saw you lying down with the kitten on your stomach. He smiled, and committed the image to memory. It felt too good to be true.

/./

When you went to school the following week, your classmate asked you about how the kitten was doing. You told them about how the kitten is settling in nicely, and showed a few pictures of them at home. Whether it be sleeping, playing, eating, after bathing… you have all the pictures. Your classmate seemed pleased.

After a long and tiring day, you stretch as you reach your apartment. You fished out your keys from your pocket, and as you opened the door you could hear some muffled talking. As you approach the living room, you see Goro on his arms and knees while holding a small toy mouse in front of your little kitten.

"You should learn how to hold this so you can protect yourself and mama while I am away," Goro says with a straight face, and your little kitten tries reaching for the stick.

You chuckle, "Goro what are you doing?"

"Playing with our baby?" Goro seemed genuinely embarrassed he was caught, but relaxed once you sat down beside him.

"Sounds intense," you giggled and gave him a quick kiss.

The kitten climbs onto your lap and settles in there. Goro handed you a plate of snacks he brought on the way home and placed a hand on your lower back.

"Welcome home, my princess."

Home. Yes.

You are home, finally.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Cobbler

Cordelia wasn't supposed to be a pirate. Most pirates weren't, of course, but she imagined that they'd started out as sailors or thieves and transitioned in one direction or the other. For her part, she'd only been a cobbler, a mender of old boots: she'd never stolen nor sailed at all, let alone served as a buccaneering captain. But this ship had needed a crew, and so she'd cobbled one together. 

It was all in aid of the mission, or so the prophets had explained. The Caterian Empire had hung for too long like a shadow across their coastline, lurking just across the water from the town where Cordelia had been born, raised, and hoped to one day retire, if they survived this voyage of the damned. Their island was small, and couldn't muster much of an army to slow the Empire's ravenous advance, which had already consumed so many of their peers.

But it could muster her - and she'd pulled together the rest.

"Why have you come to me?" she'd protested at the time, when the prophets appeared at her door. Cordelia had understood their warnings of imminent doom, the threat of conquest, the need for a chosen one to defeat the evil once and for all - she just hadn't understood why that meant her. "I'm not a soldier. I'm a shoemaker, for crying out loud. I'm not the sort of person who wins battles."

"Well, that's sort of the point," one of the prophets had replied, knocking one of a pair of boots off the shelf behind him. "Are you familiar with the concept of langrage?"

"Not unless that's you struggling to speak ours."

"It's a nautical term," he continued, ignoring her. "When a ship runs out of conventional shot, it loads its guns with whatever lies handy: nuts and bolts, cutlery and clockwork, anything that might tear an opposing sail to shreds. Even shoes, in a pinch. Sometimes they even do it by choice, a cannonade of loose ephemera over your traditional balls of steel."

"That still doesn't answer my question," Cordelia stood firm, demonstrating some of the latter. "Why are you in my home? What do you want from me?"

"We've studied the histories," another said, and from the lines around his eyes she believed him. "Any sufficiently potent evil, your archetypical dark lord or dragon, is always defeated by a motley band of unlikely heroes. Always and only. The soldiers on their own can't make it all the way. We don't know why, but something about having a mixture of backgrounds and skillsets works out better."

"Many organisations have found they benefit from diverse hiring practices," the first prophet said. "Why not an army?"

The other shoe dropped, and Cordelia leant against a wall, momentarily deflated. "You want to build an army... of people like me?"

"Well, sort of."

"A load of old cobblers?"

"We thought so too, but it checks out." The prophet paused to stack the boots back up. "But the point is to find people who aren't like you. A real assortment of profiles, you know? Think about all the tools you use in your craft, the rasp and last and awl and all of that. Each serves a different function. That's the sort of effect we're going for."

"But who, specifically?" she asked, still wondering why they'd chosen her. Perhaps they hadn't, and just knocked on a random door. "How will you decide upon this perfect, random mix?"

"Well," they said. "We were rather hoping that you would."

Cordelia tried her best to follow their approach. If she was planning this endeavour of her own accord - perhaps after some trauma to the head - she knew that there were certain people she'd look to recruit for her crew, and others who she wouldn't trust to scrub the decks. But if the prophets had chosen her house at random, she would have to do the same.

Her list of customers was a solidly mixed assortment of potential allies, and she thought about drawing names from a hat, before realising that she already had them in order: she had a schedule of commissions, and figured she'd just press-gang those who'd come to her. It would mean acting out a reverse Cinderella: choosing anyone who had a shoe that didn't fit.

She had to start somewhere, so she started with those who already owed her for repairs, including Aldous, the actor whose boots had been shelved by the door. A career of treading the boards had worn them down. She wondered how he'd feel about walking the plank.

"I've got your boots," she said, once he opened the door. There was no time for pleasantries. They'd have plenty of chance to catch up on the open seas.

"Ah, wonderful." He beamed for his audience of one. "You know, costumes come and go, but you absolutely cannot beat a comfy pair of shoes. One does so much of one's work on one's feet, and people really do underestimate-"

"Speaking of which," she interrupted, wishing to be spared the soliloquy. "Are you in the market for a new role?"

"Well, one would never rule oneself out at first blush, so to say, at least without-"

"Excellent. It's yours."

"Mine? I mean, one's? But what is it?"

"First mate."

"A nautical tale?"

"A pirate adventure."

"Oh, how marvellous! Yes, one always fancied oneself as a swashbuckler, but of course such roles are rare nowadays. When do we start rehearsals?"

"The ship is being readied as we speak. We leave at dawn, two days for now." Then, because it was important to maintain a sense of fun. "Please bring your own costume."

It hadn't been how she'd pictured it, until the prophets had explained. The Caterian Empire was a fortress, their borders well-defended, and even a small band of adventurers would struggle to sneak all the way into the palace at its heart. But sea was a different matter, and every now and again the Emperor found the need to travel to one vassal isle or the next, placing himself uniquely vulnerable to attack.

"If you challenge them under the flags of this island, there will be reprisals here first," they'd said. "But under a black flag, you can operate in the shadows. Befriend the others who live there, if you can. Form a pirate fleet, guerrillas of the sea, chipping away at the Empire's naval strength. If they can't leave the mainland, their armies are irrelevant. That is how you'll win."

"By starting at a disadvantage."

"The heroes always do. They're never under an official flag, the admiral of their own armada. They're rogues, rascals, underdogs against overwhelming odds. The less likely your victory, the more inevitable it will be."

Cordelia's next recruit came to her, which was convenient, although she wouldn't have chosen her in a million years. Janina worked in the citrus orchards, and was famously all fingers and thumbs with anything smaller than a clementine, but she just about managed to knock on the door with a pair of shoes in her other hand.

"I'm sorry to bother you with this," he said, handing one over with some gratitude. "But I'm afraid I've done something awful to the laces. They'd unravelled when I came to put them on this morning, and I seem to have made more of a mess trying to rethread them. Sorry, I know it's a difficult one."

"Mhm." Cordelia held her tongue, and inspected the eyelets around it. She didn't know much about sailing, but she suspected a pirate's life involved some quantity of ropes and knots. If she was choosing a crew from her customers, she might choose those who tied the neatest bows. But the prophets had stressed the hodgepodge nature of successful groups, thrown together by fate. She would have to trust in the randomness of shoe entropy.

"Oh, thank you so much," Janina said, once the first aglet was successfully laced back through. "I don't know what I'd do without your help. Is there anything I can do to make it worth your while?"

"Funny you should say that," Cordelia said. "I'm looking for a quartermaster, and a bulk order of oranges. have some concerns about scurvy."

So it was that she formed her makeshift crew. Aldous and Janina were followed by Leonore, a smith whose steel toecaps had come loose, and Florian, a draper who had simply lost his sole. As the prophets had insisted, they were a diverse mix of characters as well as trades. Leonore was a pillar of the community, as straight-laced as they came, whereas Florian had been a misfit his whole life - although Cordelia had given him some insoles to help with that.

"Have you ever made a sail before?" she asked, making her own stitches where the rubber had come away.

"I have many customers," he said, taken aback.

"No - I mean for a ship. I'm looking to commission one. I'll need help with the installation, too."

"Oh, well. Yes, I could certainly help with that."

She felt a bit of a heel, fixing his shoe for so great a cost, weaving him into her multicoloured tapestry. None of these people knew how to fight, or sail; life at sea would be hard for them, even without the dangers of rebellion . But she was in the same boat, and supposedly that was the point. They were bystanders turned to weapons: collateral damage that went the other way, a human sword instead of a shield. That was what the prophets said would work.

So it was they assembled two days later, arrayed across the deck like cards of different suits. The prophets had arranged the ship, and dubbed it in her honour: the Shoemaker’s Levy, for the rabble she'd been able to rouse. Not the island's most seaworthy individuals, nor the most skilled, but those who'd had the most trouble walking on land.

Those who hadn't already been assigned were quickly shoehorned into roles, but it would take a while before they could be called a crew. Even Cordelia would struggle to adjust to life as their captain: she'd always been a sole practitioner, only used to working with winklepickers and brothelcreepers, not actors and blacksmiths and the rest. She wasn't supposed to be a pirate, let alone their leader. But they would have to learn the ropes together, just as she'd once learnt about shoes. One foot after the other. One step at a time.

[danisha-tdh]

Out of curiosity, could you please tell me what is Wondergotton? Is it a game, an au, or a fan concept? What exactly is it?

Wondergotten is not just a game or a fan concept, au kinda fitting but it's sort of different.

Well the answer is down here ⬇️

Long post incoming!

Wondergotten is world of creation within connection between imagination and reality. I made this from a year ago during halloween. Though, this was inspired between Epic Mickey and American Mcgee's Alice (I usually mix them into one), and also with Zippy and Whammy in cartoon purgatory. It is a world between heaven and hell, as included forgotten toons and fallen characters who died tragically, like villains.

Wondergotten wasn't just for fictional, but also can be a dream for people who are from the real world, by called-

There are two fact about the Wondergotten:

By the name Tarøt holder, it was referred an explanation how Tarøt card works in here

And there is a House of Tarøt

Also the land names

This is all sort of a new lore I made. Though it is hard to explain everything, I'm just really need a little relax first before digging more about it. Oh yeah! About the story title, is it officially by the name

A story about the main character or to be called the "Foøl" name Turbø, the greatest racer and has a loss memory due to be unknown and having questions about life. He encounter many horrors and having hard time to avoid his own "nightmare". Turbø encounter a familiar person, King Candy, who is a role as a "King", found him in a Forest of Nostalgia. Later, the two with Jack goes to a new home, Bon Thé vill. In this story, Turbo takes focus to bring his memory back and solving a mysterious world of Wondergotten.. or pershap find a solution to save the world..?

Welp, this all I have for the explanation. Though unfortunately, I may or may not made a story of it. But perhaps, if anyone interested about it.

Oh I almost forgot, I actually revealed one the ruler of each lands and their chosen tarot here:

Hades = The Judgement (As the judge and keeper of the Wondergotten, also the Head of the House of Imaginative)

Ørson = The Hanged Man (The ruler of the Steamy Skyland and the Head of the Madness Factory)

Ursula = The Moon (The ruler of the Caspian sea and l'Océan de la Ørchestre (Sea city))

Jafar = The Sun(?)/Justice [Not confirmed chosen card yet] (Ruler of the Dreadful Dunes)

Queen of Heart = The Empress (Ruler of Heartlands and the Head of the House of Royalty)

White King = The Emperor (Ruler of the Blooded Blizzard and the Head of the House of Nobility)

Bonus:

Captain Hook = The Chariot (Secondary ruler of the Caspian sea)

Dr. Facilier = The Wheel of House of Fortune (Head of the House of Fortune)

Maleficent = The Tower (Watchover Bon Thé vill(?))

Reminder: There are no ruler in the Forest of Nostalgia as it by freedom of nature. But, it can be found gnomes who live there in a wild.

[fliptoast]

Earthquake Name

Storms are named for people. No one in specific but people nonetheless. This is not a pattern found elsewhere. Places are named after phenomena, or specific people who made great contributions. Storms are different. Storms are named for the concept of humanity. Like a claim was made by humans that they identify with storms. The Howling wind reminding humanity of their own howling grief. The loud angry thunder so much like their own furious shouting. The rain falling like their tears. Perhaps most of all, humanity felt they resembled the aftermath of the storm. Storms were chaotic and harmful, but necessary to keep ecosystems running. Humanity had ugly, cruel emotions but those same emotions where the only reasons humans could connect with each other at all. Unknown to must, this tradition of seeing yourself in the chaos of nature was one inherited from those who came before, but it was not storms but earthquakes that they identified themselves with.

            Familiarizing yourself with the language the earth speaks is a good first step when attempting to remember something so thoroughly forgotten. Then, you will need to perfect your chosen skill. Hill and hollow is a good choice, as it specializes in secrets of the Gods-from-stone and their followers. Old paths remembered by honing this skill can make the journey far less arduous. Next, collect your needed materials. These can be hard to come by, as scale is an ancient principle so anything meaningfully aligned with it is likely very old and very forgotten. Look in your cupboards, and the mortuary is always a safe bet to find things long past.

            Now comes the difficult part. First you must travel the path that the Hill and Hollow will lead you down, and if you connect with the earth and its sound well, you’ll feel an Old Moment. You are remembering something long past through eyes that are not your own. This feeling will not last long, however, and by tomorrow you will forget again. Once you have your Old Moment, you must finish your crafting within the day. Take your remains, your memories of that Old Moment, that skill in the stories of the Gods-from-stone, and the part of you where your soul resides, and remember. Storms are named for people, but Earthquakes are Named for the Cross.

            As a final warning, if you are adept enough to remember the names of earthquakes this is likely old information, but it is wise to keep this in mind: calling something’s name is a good way to get its attention. Crack track is what they spoke, and if its name is called in the tongue it speaks, you will likely summon that whose name you now know. Do with this as you will.

[nininikki]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋: e. jaeger x black fem!reader

❦ summary! — you hated him. god, you hated him so so much, and were just desperate to move on. or were you? (part two to pretty when you cry, which can be read here.)

❦ warnings! — nsfw! toxic relationships, lots of angst, alcohol consumption, some oral sex (f!receiving), choking, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected penetrative sex (piv, wrap it up!!), clit slapping, dacryphilia, squirting, cum play, cum eating, cheating, smoking, eren’s still so toxic and reader’s still so stuck :(

❦ author’s note! — love you all so much. pls enjoy.

❦ word count! — 4.6k

two months after you’d left him, when the bags under your eyes began to weigh a little lighter, and breathing felt more natural and less like a chore, your friends dragged you to a party.

“oh, come on pleaseeeeee!” they implored, “you’ve been sulking over that bitch for, like, ever.” they’d wrapped their familiar, welcoming arms around you and sank the empty promise of a good time into your veins.

that’s how your regretful, deluded brain had chosen to see it in hindsight, anyway. in the moment though, they had been right. if it hadn’t been for work or classes or the occasional food run, fresh air and daylight would be foreign concepts to you.

the first couple of weeks after, you’d done whatever possible to erase the memory of him from your life. blocked him on everything; his number, email, instagram, snapchat, hell, even the pinterest you forced him to make however many months ago. anything with his name attached to it had been thrown out to die in the cemetery of your mind.

except, it hadn’t. even after you had blocked him on everything, set fire to his stupid hoodies, and given away almost every gift he’d ever gotten you, the constant and aching agony that blackened your heart was there to stay.

“yeah, you’re right.” you told your friends, gliding the tips of your fingers over your chest where that sick, familiar aching lay. “i guess i’ll go.”

***

so there you were, skin tingling with nerves as you take in the slosh of more “punch” being poured into your cup.

“didn’t you miss this?” your friend crooned, wrapping her arms around you and sitting her chin on your shoulder.

with a relaxed giggle, you nodded and threw your entire cup back in a few quick gulps, letting the familiar feel of the alcohol warm the blood beneath your skin.

i did miss this, you realized. you missed dancing without a care in the world. you missed being surrounded by crushes of people who were just as drunk and ecstatic as you were. you missed dancing to music so loud you could feel it in your veins. but as dearly as you missed those things, your very being still ached for…

you washed the thought away with another drink.

***

“so, you gon’ talk to me here or do i need to make a text now number?”

a voice you’d be able to make out in a crowd of people. a voice you’d hear even if you went deaf. a voice you’d deluded yourself into thinking you would never hear again.

why were you so stupid? why’d you deny your friend’s offer to accompany you when you said you had to go pee? why had you insisted that you’d be fine? why did you assume he wouldn’t be at this fucking party anyway?

you stood outside the rickety bathroom door, hands trembling and damp from the wash. wondering if you should bolt down the hallway, strangle him with your bare hands, or do something…unthinkable.

unthinkable as in an idea so preposterous that it couldn’t even be fully perceived. or maybe for a second it had been, but the utter insanity of it was enough for you to squash it.

“what do you want?” you rasped.

“what do i want?” he scoffed in your direction as though you were in the wrong. as though he hadn’t taken your pride and dignity and self respect and your ability to want anyone that wasn’t him. as though he hadn’t left you with nothing and the thought of him wanting more from you scared you shitless.

scared you shitless because you knew that with the right pushes and presses under the right spots, your spine would bow just the right way and you’d be weak for him again. although, what’s to say you had ever stopped?

he reduced the space between you to almost nothing, timidly taking one of your hands in his. “i wanna talk to y—”

“there’s nothing for you to say.”

“five minutes. that’s all i’m askin’.”

you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly fell from their sockets, and gave him a go ahead gesture. but his stupid eyes went all soft, and he insisted, “alone?”

***

“okay, we’re alone. you got five minutes. what do you want?” you made your voice as convincingly stern as possible, despite the faint tremble that hid beneath.

“well,” the stranger’s bed sank under the weight of his body, and he motioned for you to sit next to him, to level yourself with him, but you only kissed your teeth. “i miss you.”

you cut him off with a scoff. “bullshit.”

“it’s the truth!” his tone was by no means loud, but the conviction in it made it all the more startling. “look, these last two months, all i could think about was you and how shitty i was and how good you were to me and, god, you didn’t deserve that.” in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes shone with that familiar, please baby, i’m sorry, look. you couldn’t tell how fabricated it was, whether it was because of that dim lighting, or your bad habit of not ever doubting a thing he said.

he continued, getting off the bed and walking over to where you stood. he towered over you in that way he always did. looking down at you with those low green eyes that were undoubtedly embedded with sin and some sort of aphrodisiac.

he took your hands in his and squeezed tight. “i just need you to know that i’m sorry.”

you snatched your hands from his grasp. “sorry won’t cut it, eren.” so used to accepting his apologies, the foreign words cut deep into your tongue. “i mean, shit, how do you even expect me to believe you?”

“you’re saying you don’t believe me?”

“no, i’m just saying you picked the worst fucking time to start being honest with me!” beneath the pain that decayed your heart a little more each day was something you didn’t know was there until that very moment. rage. “i mean, so what, you didn’t have your usual easy lay for two months. boo-fucking-hoo!”

eren took on a more defensive stance, pointing his stupid finger in your face and stating matter-of-factly, “it’s not like that and you fucking know it.”

“shut up, eren!” a voice that wasn’t yours erupted from your throat, sure to leave it sore for days. “i don’t care if you felt a little sad for two months, alright. you don’t get to tell me how sad it made you that you fucked me over!” rage. rage felt so fucking good and scratched at itches you didn’t even know existed until you had screamed your throat raw. “you can’t just come back into my life with your shitty apologies thinking everything’ll go back to normal. newsflash, eren: it fucking won’t!

and that’s when it happened, the switch. from the please baby, i’m sorry eyes grew something darker. not quite anger, but so noticeably different from the softness he once held in them. “oh, yeah? why’s that?”

challenge. that was what bloomed so fervently in his gaze. it made loathing pump blood through your veins the way your heart normally would. “because i fucking hate you!”

then, he took you by the nape of your neck and kissed you. kissed you like you hadn’t just confessed your absolute and undying hate for him. like he took the words you intended to have the harshest effect possible and only heard, “fuck me stupid, eren!”

because judging by the way his lips moved in that languid, familiar, tantalizing way against yours, he was about to do just that.

your brain shrieked, stop him, stop him, stop him, but the parts of you he was touching ached for otherwise. the firm hand caged around your neck—shit, he knew you loved it when he did that—and his other snaking around your waist.

“don’t lie to me, baby.” eren whispered, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling your faces impossibly closer together.

it was true, though. you did hate him. you hated how he touched you, the way he knew how to kiss you just right; just the way you craved. you hated how he’d palm over those spots on your body that made it impossible to say no. you hated how good it made you feel. you hated how out of all the people on this earth, eren fucking jaeger had to be the one that satisfied the noxious, carnal desire that lay deep within you.

“what makes you think i’m lying?” you asked between wanton rasps. you let out a low, animalistic sound when his erection poked your lower stomach, and your question seemed to answer itself.

except it didn’t, because you did hate him. but you didn’t hate this. you hated everything that came after. when sometime after the perfect part of your cycle, eren would do some small, trivial—to him at least—thing to remind you of how un-worth it you were.

eren picked you up by the backs of your knees, and you had no trouble wrapping your legs around his waist. “come on, let me show you how bad i missed you.” he grabbed you by the jaw, prying your mouth open a little so he could kiss you sloppier. if he weren’t holding you in his arms, you would’ve melted into a puddle of arousal on the floor, because—despite your adamant hatred—you were so fucking wet.

and it was all because of him. this man you claimed to hate so much. but really and truly, you d—

“shit, baby,” eren held your legs open as you writhed on the bed beneath him, that same challenge in his eyes as rich as before. “you get this fuckin’ wet for somebody you hate so much?” he spread your thick, sopping lips apart with his skilled fingers before he placed another hungry kiss on your clit.

“glad you know that i—” you cut yourself off with a pleasure-drunk hiccup, more focused on the feeling of your poor, neglected hole leaking with your arousal and clenching around nothing. eren absolutely knew what he was doing, sucking and kissing on your clit until you were so dizzy it gave you a headache. he always loved doing that, watching you fall apart against his sinful ministrations. “hate you—ngh—so much.”

eren dropped his mouth dangerously low, not stopping until he was almost right where you wanted him. he probed his fingers against your yearning hole, but only so he could gather your slick on them and suck them into his mouth. “we both know you don’t mean that shit.”

“but i…” then, finally, you could feel yourself stretch around one of his fingers, and then another. a stretch so delicious you found yourself screaming out in pleasure. eren always knew what to do with his fingers. every fondle and knead and squeeze and pinch would always be followed by some pornographic sound. just because eren always knew what to do to you.

“you what?” he asked, voice low and smooth. just as your brain began to piece the words together, his fingers prodded against that tender, spongy spot inside of you. if you had any dignity left to lose, you’d have been humiliated by the sounds you were making. you’d have found it in you to finish your sentence. but, you didn’t, so…

“more, more, more, eren, please.” you squirmed, whether it was under the firm hold of turquoise gaze or the infuriatingly perfect motions of his fingers, you didn’t know.

in a haste, just as your orgasm had begun to hurdle toward your already fucked out body, he’d taken his fingers away. you could hear the sound of his belt clanging to the hardwood floor, and felt shame at the anticipation puddling in your stomach. “you want more?”

eren’s hands, damp and gently calloused, wasted no time pushing your knees up to your chest. like a fish to bait, your blurred vision caught sight of his dick: erect, flushed an angry red, and milky spurts of precum dribbling at the bulbous mushroom tip.

you’d barely had time to process before he was pushing the head in, a moan singing from his lips with every inch he advanced. eren ran one of his hands through your braids, coursing it lower until his thumb rested at your clit. “missed this,” he sighed, content and pleasure threaded through his features. “missed feeling you squeeze ‘round me like that.”

eren pulled out so enticingly slow, until only the tip was in, before pushing back in—just as slowly—and burying himself to the hilt. you fucking loved it, the slowness. like pleasure being spread across as warm and thick as softened butter.

and eren could tell. just like he could tell everything else about you. you could see his eyes fill with something sinister and the network of veins in his neck start to throb. “since when do you like it slow, huh?” you pressed your eyes shut, almost trying to think about it for a moment before wondering, why does he care? “somebody else been fucking you like this?”

oh. your already agape mouth formed around a giggle at the thought of eren being jealous. jealous of some hypothetical person that you’d be fucking in his stead. maybe there was such a thing as misplaced anger.

a harsh slap landed on your clit. oh, shit, he’s serious, your brain ran that one thought on a staticky loop. you were torn between wanting to moan out at the contact or slap him right back. “answer me, baby.” his pace sped up in the blink of an eye, practically trying to fuck an response out of you.

“what does it—shit—what does it matter?” you mewled, and eren’s lips turned down in a feigned pout.

he pulled you up by the nape of your neck so his lips were slightly level with your ear. “‘cause you’re mine.”

how devastatingly inconvenient those words were, but sickeningly saccharine nonetheless. because for so long you had ached to be his. to be more than just the girl he liked but couldn’t date for whatever stupid reason. so it came as no surprise when the words had you clenching pathetically around him and letting tiny whimpers slip through your lips as the tip of his dick began kissing your cervix.

a tear slipped from your eye, and then three more followed, glossing your face in tangible desperation that you could tell eren got weak for. “see, baby, you don’t hate me,” he cooed, grabbing you by the face to kiss the tears off your cheeks. “or you wouldn’t be letting me fuck you like this.”

he wasn’t right, was he? you did hate him. you didn’t have much of a choice, did you? someway, somehow, you had to spare yourself that nauseating heartache, the spine-crushing betrayal, the hazy heroin of his manipulation. hating him kept you safe, whereas loving him would soon kill you.

his brow furrowed in that way that always told you he was close, and so were you. a few more lazy thrusts and you’d be putty in his hands, just as he had probably intended. “tell me,” eren grunted, “tell me—ngh, shit—that you’ll never do that again.”

eren’s thrusts came to a screeching halt, and he tilted your chin up so that your gazes met. your vision was hazy and streaked by tears, like a windshield after a rainstorm. but even still, you could see the seriousness in his face, because you knew what he meant. “do” hiccup. “what?” you feigned ignorance.

“leave me. promise you’ll stay.” something about his words, his entire demeanor had changed. something in his eyes lay on the outskirts of vulnerability, and it was so utterly unlike him that it took you aback.

“i…” can’t promise you that, eren. you were about to say, but he gave a shallow thrust, subtly reminding you of the leverage he had. and he didn’t stop, either. not until you were shuddering with the onslaught of pleasure and teetering on the edge of your release. did you plan to stay with him? fuck no. did you wanna cum? “i promise, eren.”

and just like that, he was fucking you the way you needed, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips before pushing you on your back. all it took was a couple more thrusts and you were gushing around him. limbs going weak and numb as you messily drenched the sheets.

eren followed soon after, hurriedly pulling out and clumsily stroking his cock until warm, thick spurts of cum shot out over your pussy. but he wasn’t done. as if you weren’t overstimulated enough, he brought his mouth down over you. drunkenly running the tip of his tongue over your throbbing cunt, collecting the cum he’d just spilled there.

with a guttural, carnal grunt, eren connected your lips in one last kiss, parting his lips to let the filthy mixture of saliva and cum stream out of his mouth and into yours.

there’s a beat of silence as you let it pass down your throat. and eren kisses you again, softly murmuring into your mouth, “i missed you.”

***

“bitch, where were you?” your friends asked once

you’d located her in the crowds of people. “yeah, i was about to, like, call someone or something.”

you grabbed the drink one of them had outstretched towards you and took a meaningless sip. “there was, like, a holdup by the bathroom.” which could technically be considered the truth, but only if you didn’t think about it.

eren had suspected nothing when you jumped back into your clothes and notified him that you were going to pee. he didn’t suspect that while you did actually need to pee, you wouldn’t be returning to him. he didn’t suspect the possibility of you lying when you’d promised to stay, and you’d be gone before he got the chance.

“but, anyway, do you guys wanna go get something to eat?” you slurred, changing the conversation.

“yeah, i’m starving,” your friend agreed, wrapping her arms and you and your other friend’s neck and heading you all to the exit. “no cute guys here, anyway!”

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

you had always know armin was rich, but god, it still shocked you sometimes. seriously, who rented out an entire ballroom for their twenty-first birthday? the whole scene bathed in elegance. diamond chandeliers sprinkled you and the area in a delightful glimmer; something akin to being under a starry night sky. full-service caterers swarmed the place like bees in fancy uniforms, balancing shiny trays on the tips of their fingers and greeting you with an, “evening, miss. would you care for an hors d’oeuvre?”

you clutched your gift between your fingers, chewing on a cranberry crostini as you looked around for armin. around you floated many familiar faces. some people you and armin went to high school with, and that was about as far as the recognition went. other than a select few mutual friends that attended your university, the attendance was mostly of armin’s yale friends. despite being the majority, they stuck out like sore thumbs.

your name fell off a well-known, sparkling voice. you turned around to see the birthday boy in question, striding towards you with a hardly touched glass of champagne in his hands and blush sprouting along his cheeks. “i’m so glad you could make it!” he beamed, swathing you in a congenial hug. “as beautiful as ever, too.” he pulled away, giving you a thorough once over.

“god, i could say the same for you.” you returned. and it was true. the boyish, baby-blue gleam in his eyes had never left, and his usual mop of hair—still that enchanting color of gold—was coiffed into a neater do. “happy birthday, by the way.” you wrapped him in another hug, then showcased the gift bag in your hands.

“thank you!” armin smiled in delighted surprise, as if handing him a gift at his birthday party was the most shocking thing ever. his gaze flitted over your shoulder, and he waved to someone coming in behind you. “more people to talk to, y’know how that goes. but, uh, help yourself to anything. and thanks again for coming.”

***

about an hour later, after you had sang happy birthday to armin, finished your third glass of champagne, and flirted with too many yale guys to count, you were sitting at the bar and letting a slice of cake melt in your mouth.

from behind you, you’d heard armin conversing with someone quite jovially, bubbles of laughter floating from where they stood directly to your ears. foolishly, you snuck an intrigued glance over your shoulder.

armin with his arm wrapped cozily around none other than eren. eren, who had a tipsy tint crawling up his neck. eren, who had a peal of laughter rolling off his tongue. eren, who looked just as sickeningly good as he did the last time you saw him.

should you have eavesdropped? well, was it even considered eavesdropping if they were in a public place, talking as loud as their throats would allow them? no, right?

“and how are things going?” armin inquired. “with mikasa, i mean.”

“pretty okay, actually. there’s this promise ring she’s been hinting at for a while, so... ”

armin patted eren encouragingly on the shoulder. “promise ring, eh? that’s amazing. how long’s it been? like, seven months, right?”

eren cleared his throat. “nine months, actually.”

***

before you could listen any more, you’d ducked out of the party and headed for the little convenience store across the street. you needed cigarettes. you didn’t smoke cigarettes, but smoking in a dark alley looked way more intimidating and way less pathetic than crying.

so, there you were, leaning against the ballroom building with the bottom of your dress clutched between your fingers. a cigarette dangling from your lips, but only in decoration.

nine months. that didn’t make any sense. if you and eren slept together eight months ago, but he had started dating mikasa nine months ago, then that’d mean… no. not possible. if someone had finally gotten him to settle down, what sense would it make for him to… eren wouldn’t ev—

you cut off your own thoughts with a scoff, because of course he would. he would and he could and he very well might have cheated on mikasa with you, and now here you were, standing in a cold dark alley and having the conscience he so awfully lacked.

“hey, stranger.”

you didn’t need to look up from the bleak concrete where you stared to know what the source of the noise was. “what do you want?”

eren scoffed, and you could feel his shadow blocking the sliver of moonlight that shone through the alley. “how come you always ask me that?”

you moved your lips to say, i do not, but stopped short. maybe it was force of habit, but how could it not be? for so long, all eren could be bothered to do was take, take, take from you with reckless abandon. “‘cause,” you answered with no intention of finishing that sentence.

“‘cause what?” you could feel his gaze slide down to your pinched lips. “are you gonna light that?”

you only had it in you to shrug.

“how do you know armin?” eren asked, a little too confident for your liking. as if you two were in some sort of exclusive relationship and he had every right to know, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

you plucked the cigarette from your mouth and stomped it into the ground as if it had actually been used. “how do you?”

he moved to stand in front of you and that sliver of moon shone on his face like a spotlight. “we’ve been best friends since, like, god, i don’t know. the day we were born.” then he pointed an expectant gaze at you.

“we were in high school together.”

“‘s a shame my folks put me in private school. i could’ve met you sooner.”

“and put me through even more hell?” you half joked, “i’m fine with that i got, but thanks.”

hurt briefly graced his features. “i never really got the chance to apologize. last time we talked…uh…”

your mind regurgitated the pornographic memory of him spitting his cum into your mouth, eliciting a scoff. “you have a girlfriend, eren. you should be apologizing to her.”

“don’t act like you give a shit.” eren’s face went unserious. “mikasa was fucking awful to you.”

he was right. sooooo fucking right. why were you up here vouching for her? practically begging her boyfriend to respect her? because it was the right thing to do? or because you just hated eren so much you’d take any side but his? “so? you didn’t care enough to not date her. and she’s still…” you tried to think of something kind to say but fell short. “you’re getting her a promise ring, for fuck’s sake.”

saying the words made your tongue shrivel up and die in your mouth. eren had never gotten you a promise ring. hell, every time he promised you something it had been a lie. but whatever. you contemplated taking a cigarette out from your carton and smoking it for real.

“that isn’t what i want.” eren sighed. “mikasa, she’s…nice and funny and pretty and all that, but…i don’t know. i just…” he smoothly took a cigarette from your carton and put it between his lips, burning it with his lighter before taking a long drag. “it’s not real with her.”

“and what we had was real?” you coughed an incredulous scoff. what had been real about the countless mornings you’d spent icing down tear-bagged eyes? and not feeling whole whenever he wasn’t around? and losing yourself in him with each passing day?

“to me.” eren murmured.

you had began to feel like the cigarette you’d just discarded: weak and useless and burning—theoretically—with fury. “then why, eren?”

“why, what?”

“why’d you string me along that whole time? why’d you keep fucking me over with mikasa? why wasn’t i good enough for you to date me? why’d you cheat on your girlfriend and why am i the only one who cares? why do you keep…” the words that once rolled off your tongue as fluidly as marbles suddenly fell back down your throat and almost choked you to death. it took you a second to register that it was a sob. “why do you keep doing this to me?”

you could feel his arms wrap around you, in some futile attempt at making you feel better. would the rest of your life be like this? all roads leading back to eren? even after you’d married and had children? even after you were old and grey?

you blinked up at him, eyes streaked with tears, unsure of what more to say. a droplet of water landed at the corner of your mouth. not warm enough to be a tear, but as bleak and desolate as though it had been one. rain.

“i’m…sorry.” eren murmured. through the haze of tears, you could see him shrugging his suit jacket off his shoulders, placing it around yours shortly after. then, he brushed a kiss against your cheek, and he may as well have punched you square in the face.

with each passing second, the rain began to pour a bit harder. “i should go.” your words were like the food that catapulted out of one’s throat after a successful heimlich maneuver: seemingly inconsequential but so very life altering.

you’d walked away from him that night with only his suit jacket on your back and the remnants of his kiss stinging your cheek like a bruise.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[paragonrobits]

have a consideration of the thought I had as I woke up today, going from asleep to sudden lightning-eyed alertness as a single thought flooded my brain:

"WHAT IF INSTEAD OF BEING AN ALCHEMICAL IN THAT ATLA/EXALTED AU I KEEP THINKING ABOUT, AANG WAS A DRAGON KING?"

some explainations for those not familiar with Exalted; it is a tabletop fantasy game heavily influenced by a mixture of several mythologies and classic epics, and high-action anime series, set in a fantastical bronze-era world of competing politics, spirits mired in a divine bureaucracy, and mighty heroes using their power as they see fit. The game is named for the titular Exalted; mortal humans who have been chosen by the Exaltations, shards of divine power seeking out mortals with the will and desire to use this power (regardless of what they intend to actually do with it), which come in a variety of types that have different skills and criteria.

However, the Dragon Kings are NOT among the Exalted, though the word itself is a translation of a similar concept where their ancestors once widely channeled spirits in partnerships. The Dragon Kings are a nonhuman species of humanoid dinosaur-like beings that predate humanity; they were created to be the species to dwell in the world, and humanity created as living prayer batteries to fuel the gods that lived under the power of the Dragon Kings. When the gods rallied against the titans that made them, the DKs (who mostly revere the mightiest of the gods, the Unconquered Sun, as the ultimate paragon of heroism and virtue) sided with the gods, and were almost completely wiped out in such a way that they can never reach the population they once had.

This is because the DKs serially reincarnate in a way unlike humans, who are born, die, have their memories washed away by the process of Lethe, and are born again. The Dragon Kings instead are born as beasts and functionally just animals, but as they grow older and wiser, their elders train them and help them to awaken their true spirit, becoming intelligent again, and as they grow wiser still, they remember all their past lives, all the way to the dawn of existence, and pick up where they left off. The titans unmade most of the Dragon Kings, and they can never reincarnate from that, thus their population is permanently capped.

They are a shadow of what they once were, and they can never again return to the days they remember so clearly. Never again will the people created for the world ever be able to dwell in it as they once did; their cities lie in ruins, populated only by beasts or the bestial remnants of their people. The humans who profit on their ruin know nothing of the people who had to die for humanity to prosper. Many a Dragon King awakened, only to see the horror of their people's decline, to see cities that were once thriving metropoli of philosophy and culture, and see only ruins.

And yet, there is heroism all the same; in finding something to fight for in the modern day, or to strive to rebuild the infrastructure their people so desperately need, and build something new, however far from the glory of their ancestors but still something worthwhile.

In this regard, Aang fits incredibly well as a Dragon King. Particularly he resonates well with the Pterok, whom are a flying breed physically inspired by flying non-dinosaurs like pterodactyls, and are naturally skilled at more spiritual paths of enlightenment metaphysically associated with the element of air, powers of sensory empowerment and communing with the spirits. Additionally, the specific nature of how the DKs are reborn also nicely fits with the Avatar's reincarnation, though somewhat different in nature the basic ideas can still be applied.

The other interesting detail is that the DKs are considered underdogs by Exalted standards. They are inherently powerful and far stronger than any human can EVER be. However, they themselves cannot become Exalted under any circumstances, and it takes them a VERY long time to fully train their powers, well over a century of training, wisdom and understanding, while the Exalted can achieve superior power within months. The DKs have a hard cap on their power that cannot be worked around, while the Exalted are superweapons that can defeat any foe or achieve any goal; accordingly, while they have a potential for wisdom beyond the Exalted, and are also able to learn a form of sorcery, they will always be far weaker, which is also a deeply interesting idea.

So I present this notion; Aang as a newly awakened Pterok Dragon King, either as a mundane member who has recently spontaneously gained sapience (which does sometimes happen) or an ancient sage of some sort who was placed into stasis to wait out a terrible calamity, only to emerge eons after he was supposed to wake up, and finds himself in a dark time where his people have lost themselves, sword and violence are the only rule respected by the world, and the wisdom he values has been ignored.

Never the less, he must try.

[dragon-tamer-1]

I am asking

unleash the beast

Ok, so basically, it's an AU where certain characters in the Undertale Multiverse can turn into different Godzilla monsters. I've already got a name for this, too, Kaiju!Verse(Kaijuverse? idk which looks better).

If this concept is familiar, it's cause I was inspired by @develation and their own Titan!AU(if you aren't aware of it, go check them out, it's all so cool).

Ok, story wise, I haven't fully thought it out, but the concept is that when they transform, they first kinda, cocoon themselves? Or something like that(one of two things I'm using from @/develation's Titan!AU because I don't think having the characters somehow grow into big giant monsters works as well as how people have the Gasterblaster!AU work. Plus, that would be extremely painful).

And so far what I have for the story and other info part is this:

- The multiverse is in a peaceful truce, Error and Ink aren't fighting, Dream and Nightmare are working on improving their relationship(brotherly, no ship there(no hate if you do, just won't be in this story)), and things are recovering from the constant fighting that was happening only a few months ago.

- But then the Creators(aka me, but for the sake of the story, it's the Creators. Also the second thing I'm using from the Titan!AU) decide they want chaos and handpicked certain characters that are either aware of or are able to travel to other AUs to be able to transform into Kaiju.

- It happens at the same time, so the chosen monsters are simultaneously going to transform, but it the process does take a while. I haven't fully thought of how the process goes, and I want to make sure it doesn't pretty much copy @/develation's Titan!AU entirely, so I'll come back to that later.

- But, for their first few transformations, they can't control themselves in their Kaiju forms, acting completely on the Kaiju's instincts. Although it slowly gets easier to become more aware of themselves and control their new forms and powers, they won't be able to control when they transform at all.

- After they transform back the first few times, they only remember a little of what happened, but after some time and them becoming more aware during their transformations, they can remember more of their time as Kaiju.

- After their first transformation, they take on certain features of their Kaiju form(ex. horns, claws, dorsal spines(fins?), etc.(debating between letting them have wings/tails as well)).

Characters that I have already assigned a Godzilla monster to are:

Error - Godzilla

Ink - Kiryu(Mechagodzilla)

Dream - Mothra

Nightmare - Battra

Killer, Dust, and Horror - King Ghidorah(I have an idea for how the three of them become one monster in the works)

Cross - Gigan

Blue - Anguirus

US!Papyrus - Rodan

Fresh - Megaguirus

Geno - Burning Godzilla

Farmer!Sans - Biollante

Reaper - Destroyah

Classic Sans - Baragon

Underfell Papyrus - King Caesar

Feel free to ask about the Godzilla monsters I chose. I actually had a different idea for Error, Ink, and Nightmare, but then changed them up. Same with Cross, I had him with Anguirus but decided to choose Gigan instead.

[puppyluver256]

[Image Description: A feminine mime in the vein of the webcomic Cirque Royale. They have lavender skin, short black hair, pointed ears, clawed hands, and blue eyes. Their nose is a little black circle and black heart and star markings are under their eyes. They are wearing pink circular glasses, a black and white striped t-shirt, a black jacket with white accents, black shorts, black and white striped tights, and black boots with pink zipper pulls. They are holding their hands up and smiling with visible razor-sharp teeth. The background is a pixelated radial gradient of white and grey, with a soft pink aura around the character. End ID.]

-----

A familiar face, but something's a bit different about them! Yeah, I've been following the webcomic Cirque Royale for some time, not too long after I started being a mime enjoyer iirc, and I wanted to draw Muette like the mimes in that comic! Of course "Muette" feels like kinda a weird name for that universe as all those mimes have actual people names, if some being fairly obscure due to the chosen naming scheme being specifically references to painters, so I decided to give 'em a new name for this look: René Courtois. Idk off the top of my head if there's a painter named René, but it works for me XD

I changed their outfit to a mimey take on what I normally wear since their normal outfit seems like something more for special occasions going by the recent Lantern Day storyline and the unused outfits, while keeping the tights of course because they're fun, also I made their glasses pink to keep that accent color pop in the general head area hehe :3 Idk what their mime powers would be tho, that's something to think about for later if I wanna turn René into a proper OC I guess. I also can't imagine them getting wrapped up in something that would land them in the... *ahem* situation that a lot of Circue's mimes unfortunately find themselves in, but considering the wide range of what seems to get people in trouble in Mimopolis...yeeaaah I'm just not gonna think about that possibility so that I don't get sad cuz I just want them to be happy and live their lil mime life in peace okay (:

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~Likes are appreciated, but reblogs are preferred as they let more people see my artwork! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~

Cirque Royale and related concepts © Brittany K. / @cirqueduroyale René Courtois (aka Cirque!Muette, in any form) and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

[newdestination]

"OH. EM. GEE. IT'S YOU!!!" She was immediately invading his personal space. "You're the skrunkly train guy that chat is OBSESSED with!!!" She hadn't really gotten the hype before, but now that she was seeing him up close and in person? "I TOTALLY get it now. You have SUCH grandpa energy- like a real 'Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood' kinda vibe, y'know? WOWZAH. Weren't you stuck in a time vortex or something?" She was pretty sure it was something like that. She had a hard time keeping up whenever chat started talking about this dude. It was hard to read much of anything between the constantly spammed "BABYGIRL" and "SKRUNKLY" messages. "Anywho, you have GOT to tell me ALL about it. Like, ASAP. Chop chop Mr. Subway, I wanna know ALL the deets."

"I'm the— Skrunkly?" People making an invasion of his personal space is an increasingly common occurrence in the modern era (the concept of having a respectful distance one must maintain alone seems to be completely lost on some people) but this one is really taking the cake. It doesn't really help that Ingo has no clue as to what she's on about. He's barely hanging onto the ends of her words as is, syllables catching on one ear and tripping right out the ear. Ohmmgee— skrunkly train guy— Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood (Which sounds… somewhat familiar, actually. He just can't quite seem to place how, though)— Wowzah, a time vortex!—

Oh.

A time vortex. Is that what this is about?

"…Ah, a reporter, then?" Ingo desperately latches onto the one thing that suddenly makes sense in this entire exchange. "I'm sorry, miss. While it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," It really isn't right now, but his expression hardly flinches in the face of that particular fact, "neither I nor my brother are taking questions on the matter for the foreseeable future." Maybe he shouldn't have chosen to walk home with the groceries.

"Is… chat a friend of yours?" Ingo juggles the bags in his hands to readjust his hat. It would be an incredibly odd name, but he can't really imagine what else she could be referring to— it just isn't coming to him. "Questions aside, if you'd so like, you may tell them they're always welcome at the Battle Subway during our operational hours. Only the transportation lines are available outside of the posted times, but we are always accepting more challengers!"

…He doesn't look that old, does he…? Grandpa?

[fakesaintess]

Rose Garden Sekai

Notes: A scrapped au where Overblot-ees were going to have Sekais populated by characters from that chapter customized to said sekai which would make them differ from canon. I dropped it due to the last fact but if enough people enjoy this I'll rework/revive it. Summary: "Looks like you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy!" Riddle jumps at that voice and turns on his heel to face where he heard it come from. There's an orange haired boy there who looks familiar, although Riddle doesn't know where he's seen him before.

AO3

Riddle isn't one to use his cellphone. He has no apps downloaded besides the ones that came preinstalled. There's no games, social media, not even any music downloaded. He uses it to contact his mother and, very rarely, his father.

That's why when his phone displays a paused, unnamed song on his lockscreen curiosity overtakes him and he presses play. The moment he does a bright light fills his vision. When it finally clears he's in an expansive rose garden, the hedges around him in varying twist and turns like a maze. He rubs at his eyes, hoping he's just imagining this place.

When his surroundings fail to change Riddle grows agitated. Whoever is pulling this strange prank will pay for it greatly.

"Looks like you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy!" Riddle jumps at that voice and turns on his heel to face where he heard it come from. There's an orange haired boy there who looks familiar, although Riddle doesn't know where he's seen him before.

"Don't tease him, Cater. He's probably still in shock." Another person appears from behind the one Riddle now knows as Cater and rests a hand on his shoulder.

"What is this place? Who are you people?" Riddle asks, unsure if he should run from them or stay in place.

"It's your Sekai. The Rose Garden Sekai." The person besides Cater answers.

"That explains nothing to me. And you failed to tell me your name." Riddle frowns.

"I'm Cater Diamond, but you can call me Cay-Cay. This guy is Trey Clover." Cater says, pointing to the guy next to him.

Riddle recognizes why they seem familiar. A classmate of his had once shown him a video containing characters called "virtual singers." These two share the names of some he had seen, although their appearance suited the rose garden better.

Why he is in a garden with virtual singers makes no sense to him. It's not like he has any interest in those things. He's only ever heard one song created with those, shown to him by the same classmate who introduced him to the concept of virtual singers. They were hoping to get him interested in them by showing him a subgroup of them, a card themed one called Heartslabyul, designed to be mages much like Riddle is. The plan had ultimately failed, but Riddle is thankful he manages to remember what he was shown as it allows him to make some sense of who he's with.

"Isn't there supposed to be two other people with you?" Riddle asks. The subgroup had consisted of four people yet only half that amount is here with him.

"They're around…Somewhere." Trey answers, although his pause before saying somewhere has Riddle believing they're not there at all.

Cater steps in front of Trey, changing the topic from the missing people "We're here to help you find your goal. Slash wish. Slash whatevs you wanna call it. This place, a sekai, is all your's to go to whenever you need something!"

"Is there a way for me to leave?" Riddle is beyond frustrated standing in this curious place. He has work he should be tending to, not goofing around with some program. Precious time is ticking away as he stands in this garden.

"You clicked the unnamed song to be brought here. All you need to do is pause it. Likewise, playing the song will bring you here again no matter where you are." Trey replies. He then quickly adds, "But don't you want to know more about this place? Why you were chosen to have this place?" when he sees Riddle move to pause the song.

Riddle hesitates on pausing the song. He does want to know. "Sum up the scenario quickly. I cannot dilly-dally here forever."

"Like, I already told him." Cater says.

"I'm going to explain it more thoroughly." Trey says to Cater then goes on to explain things out to Riddle as promised. "This place is a sekai, a place made to help you forward in, well, something. The people here currently and anyone who arrives in the future are here to help too. At a certain point, after you discover your true goal, the unnamed song you have will get a name."

Riddle says nothing, continuing to look at Trey like he expects him to say more.

Trey takes the hint faster than most people can. "Your sekai is called the Rose Garden sekai. It's themed around you, er, your needs to get your goal, to give you the short version."

"How so?" The more that's explained the more questions Riddle has.

"We'll find out as we all get to know each other! Besties know each other best." Cater must be some sort of extrovert. Riddle doesn't have an interest in being around people like that.

"You don't have to stay here right now, but I want you to come back whenever you need something, no matter how big or small. Even if you only want to share your frustrations, we'll be here to hear you out." Trey says gently, aware that Riddle will not chose to be staying there for much longer.

As Trey thought, Riddle stops playing the unnamed song, returning to where he was beforehand without giving any sort of response.

"How preposterous. Am I truly meant to believe there's a place with virtual singer residents that exists strictly for me? Only a fool would believe that." Riddle thinks.

It has been a week since Riddle first went to the sekai. He'd sworn to never waste time going there again. But, today the teacher of his final class held every member of the class back because a few students misbehaving. The anger Riddle feels at that causes him to remember the sekai. He was promised he could share his woes there. Could that be true?

Without putting much thought into it, Riddle plays the unnamed song. Once again, light fills his vision and he's back in the rose garden.

"You came back." Trey greets him.

"It was a rash decision to do so." Riddle crosses his arms. "Where's the other one?"

"He said he wanted to take some photographs. But I'm still here to lend an ear. Is there something you'd like to talk about?" Trey says.

Riddle bites his lip. He would like to speak about today's incident, but he wonders if that's wise. Seeing how empty the place is Riddle makes up his mind on speaking. There's no one around that can overhear him so fretting would be a waste of time.

"I happen to have something I'd like to speak about." Throwing caution to the wind, albeit only slightly, Riddle decides he will talk. This would be his first and last time.

Trey smiles. "Go on. Unless you'd be more comfortable sitting down."

"I will not be getting my clothes dirty with grass." Riddle states. He does move to stand closer to Trey. "The last teacher I had for the day held my entire class due to a small handful of students creating a ruckus. Even I, a model student, was forced to stay. That caused me to arrive late to my club activities."

"That doesn't seem very fair." Trey says.

"It is not! Only rulebreakers should be punished. As someone who acts accordingly at all times, I had no reason to be grouped in with them. For causing everyone else trouble those rulebreakers deserve harsher consequences." Riddle's voice raises as he goes on.

Trey notices Riddle does not seem to defend any of the other students who were kept behind, thought he does not bring that up. He's here to help Riddle and he believes scolding Riddle for only caring about his own circumstances is a distraction from that.

Riddle goes on. "If I had the ability to I'd dish out the proper punishments to them. In fact, I should gain the ability to."

"How would you do that?" Trey asks.

"I challenge the current leader of my dorm to a duel. If I win, I take over their place. Then I can apply punishment to those who happen to be in my dorm." Riddle explains. The idea of being in charge excites him.

The idea of Riddle being in charge makes Trey somewhat hesitant. The strictness he follows could cause trouble. That idea starts and ends inside his thoughts, Trey ends up encouraging Riddle instead. "You should. You could lend a helping hand to those who are also effected by troubles."

Trey hopes that reminding Riddle of the existence of others will keep him on the right path. But, if it did not, Trey would still side with Riddle. It's what he's here for.

"It was a good thing to speak to you today. It's helped me decide on how to straighten out the behaviors of others. Mother will be proud when she hears that I've become a House Warden." Riddle grins, arrogant and sure of himself. "I'll complete this at once."

He pauses the song and then is gone, leaving Trey to wonder if he's done the right thing.

Riddle had started to come to the sekai often. From complaining to bragging about his accomplishments, Riddle saw Trey often. He spoke to Cater to a lesser extent, as the boy usually took a backseat in the conversations Riddle has with Trey and was never the one to be the first person Riddle sees when he enters the sekai.

Today is different. Riddle arrives, calling out for Trey. The one who answers is Cater, "Trey's a bit busy right now! Why don't you tell ole Cay-cay your woes?"

Speaking to only Cater isn't something Riddle ever sought out to do, but Trey is always on Riddle's side, why would Cater be any different?

"Before that, what is Trey busy with?" Riddle asks. He does want to know what Trey finds so important.

"You know how forever ago you mentioned how there's supposed to be two other boys here? He's seeing if he can find them." Cater says.

Riddle nods. It makes sense that Trey would like to round the troupe out. Satisfied with that answer, he starts telling Cater about the woes he has with his dorm underlings being unable to properly follow the rules.

It's a surprise when Cater speaks up and, unlike Trey, does not assure Riddle that he's in the right. "Ever tried, like, trying to get closer to the people in your dorm? They'll probably listen to you better if you do." Cater says, defying Riddle's expectations.

"If they would like to be my friends they should have a shred of decency. And people need not be my friend in order to do what's expected of them." Riddle responds. Really, he can't see why Cater is urging him to interact with those hooligans. He's here to help Riddle and telling him to make friends isn't helping.

"You sure? Wouldn't it be totes real nice to have some buddies irl?" Cater asks.

"I have you and Trey, do I not? I don't need more." Riddle answers, rather matter of factly. He truly believes he's sated in the friendship category, even if his friends only existed in a place no one else can get to.

"If you ever change your mind, I've got all sorts of friend making tips for you." Cater grins, although something seems off about that grin.

Riddle scoffs.

Riddle has moved up a grade when something new happens in his sekai. He still visits the place regularly, today being one of those days.

He's sitting on a picnic blanket he had left there, enjoying a conversation with Trey and Cater when Trey asks a rather odd question.

"Riddle." He starts, in an almost hesitant way, "Don't you want to find out what your goal is?"

"We've spoken about this. My goal is to surpass the expectations my mother has set for me." Riddle says.

Trey knows all about Riddle's situation with his mother, her controlling nature, helicopter parenting, and how everything has lead to the Riddle that's sitting beside him now. Trey's aware he should've been pushing Riddle to find his goal instead of indulging his skewed views. But he finds himself unable to. He doesn't give Riddle that push forward.

"Is this really the guy you're wasting time on?" A boy strolls into view, Riddle recognizing him as Ace Trappola. Or, more accurately, a version made for Riddle's world.

"Ace…" Trey starts as if he was going to scold Ace but fails to do so, finishing with, "Be nice."

"Waited forever to show up here and nothing's gotten done. What have you guys even been doing?" Ace continues on.

Ace would've gone on further but something slinks out of the shadows and moves towards Riddle rather quickly towards Riddle. It isn't until whatever it is comes to stop that Riddle can tell what, or more specifically, who it is. The final member of the Heartslabyul subgroup, Deuce Spade. He stands in front of Riddle, gazing down at Riddle and holding some sort of case that can't be seen into with strings protruding from a gap in the case that are bound to his arm.

"Do you need something?" Riddle asks, desiring to move away from the boy looming over him.

Wordlessly he leans down and bumps his forehead against Riddle's before straightening back up and walking back to Ace.

"What was that?!" Riddle is shocked at the absurd happening.

"He's saying hello. Deuce over here is a man of few words and fewer brain cells." Ace answers in place of Deuce who shoots him a glare.

"Why?" Riddle refuses to accept an answer so vague.

"What part of a man of few words doesn't click for you? How the heck do you want me to find out?" Ace says, a mix of mockery and slight agitation.

"Ask him. A few words does not mean no words. Surely he can manage to say something." Riddle glares at Ace with an expression far more intense than the one Deuce gave him earlier.

"Let's calm down. If Deuce doesn't want to say anything we shouldn't force him into it." Trey steps in before it can turn into a full blown argument.

"How is he meant to help me if he says nothing?" Riddle turns his head to face Trey. This question is less rude than his earlier ones, coming strictly from confusion instead of agitation.

"Body language." Cater pipes up. "That's what he did earlier."

"I don't want that." Riddle replies.

"Why are you so ungrateful? He's made an effort to communicate with you." It's up in the air if Ace is defending his friend or doing this to get on Riddle's nerves.

"He can find another way." Riddle crosses his arm.

"No." Ace replies.

Riddle wishes he brought his wand. It may be unfair to use magic on someone who was designed to be a newbie mage, but Ace has it coming. "What do you mean no? Are you defying me?"

"Yes." Ace's blunt one word answers frustrate Riddle more than most people manage to.

Before Ace says something else, Trey puts both his hands up in a motion meant to pacify. "We should at least try to get along."

"We can get along when he learns to behave." Riddle snaps.

"I'll behave when he puts some effort into trying to find out his goal instead of wasting our time. He's progressed as much as Deuce talks." Ace says and Deuce adjusts the case he's holding.

"I've already figured out what I want! I don't need the help of someone so defiant." Riddle replies.

Deuce grabs Ace's shoulder to draw his attention to him. He then shakes his head.

Riddle raises an eyebrow. "What's he trying to say?"

"He agrees with me." Ace fills in for Deuce.

"Maybe he's trying to tell you to calm down. It's awfully tense here." Trey says.

"Maybe we should separate for a bit. Would so help everyone calm down." Cater joins the conversation once again.

"If you guys never stop babying him he's never going to change." With that said Ace heads off into the rose maze.

Deuce lingers behind, staring at Riddle with disappointment, or perhaps pity, in his eyes before following Ace.

"Who do those two think they are, showing up so delayed and then doing nothing but try to frustrate me? They need to learn how to behave." Riddle says to Trey.

Hesitantly, Trey smiles. "Maybe they just need to settle in. Once they get comfortable they'll see things your way." Trey says, but he doesn't believe his own words. Ace is right when he says Riddle has made no progress. Since he became housewarden of his dorm Riddle's behavior has only worsened. But Trey hasn't and will not speak up about it. Riddle needs someone on his side and Trey will be that person.

It's not like Cater has mentioned Riddle's behavior, at least not to Riddle's face. The two have spoken about their concerns many times but have never done anything to address it besides Cater's light pushes to try and get Riddle to make friends.

"They better. This place is meant to be my sanctuary. If they won't listen to me they don't belong here." Riddle huffs and, once again, Trey wonders if he's doing the right thing.

Neither Ace or Deuce approach Riddle in the following days. Occasionally Riddle will catch glimpses of the two walking through the maze. He never calls out for them, still bitter over their first meeting. If they want to speak to him they need to apologize first.

The next time Riddle is forced to see them, their meeting is still unpleasant.

Trey had excused himself to go complete a some task during one of Riddle's vent session. When Trey's footsteps can no longer be heard Ace enters the part of maze Riddle has been lingering in, Deuce trailing behind him like last time.

"Still making no progress? Have you given up on even trying to do anything besides tyrannically ruling your dorm?" Ace asks, once again getting under Riddle's skin.

"Have you come to waste my time again? I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to." Riddle replies.

"You're wasting everyone here's time." Ace scoffs.

Deuce brushes by Ace and walks to stand directly in front of Riddle. The case he's normally holding gone, now replaced by some sort of doll resting on the crook of his arm the way one would hold a small child. Not, not a doll, some sort of marionette judging by the strings that are still wrapped around his arm. He leans down, brushing his cheek against Riddle's and lightly kissing Riddle's cheek twice.

Riddle jumps back. "That greeting is not appropriate for this scenario! La bise is not to be used for people who have a relationship as distant as our's!"

Deuce cocks his head to the side, his confusion clear. This was his effort to show respect towards Riddle but it seems he has failed to properly portray his feelings.

"Are you going to reject every attempt he does for saying hello?" Ace says.

Ignoring him, Riddle scolds Deuce. "We are far too distant from one another to greet each other with that. Nor are we equals."

Deuce blinks slowly at Riddle, trying another form of greeting. It's lost on Riddle as he knows little about cat behavior. He takes it as expressing confusion again.

Riddle lets that pass since Deuce's heart is in the right place, or it seems to be compared to the other half of the duo. "What has made you bring that marionette out of its case? And what's the purpose of it ?"

Deuce looks flattered that Riddle is interested in his marionette. But that only lasts a moment as Ace uses Deuce's silence to speak for him. "Ain't it obvious? It's meant to be you."

Observing the marionette, Riddle can see that it has a similar hair and eye color to him, but it's clearly modeled to be a mature woman. Riddle has no time to protest what Ace had said before he begins talking again.

"A puppet like this suits you real well. You're your mommy's puppet, too self-righteous to live life different from how you were ordered to." Ace is awfully smug as he taunts Riddle.

It is brought into question if Deuce's marionette is for that reason by the scowl he directs at Ace but Riddle is too consumed with rage to even think about anything except Ace's insults.

"Who do you think you are to insult me?! I am not self-righteous, I am right!" Riddle shouts, chest heaving with raw emotion.

Deuce puts his free hand on Riddle's chest, holding him in place so he couldn't turn the fight to something above a shouting match, knowing this will only worsen Riddle's view of him. But even with that sacrifice he can do nothing to stop the two from yelling at one another.

Trey and Cater appear as the verbal fight slowly worsens, looking as if they had run there. "What's going on?" Trey asks.

"These two cause nothing nothing but trouble! Rid them from my sight at once! I want them gone!" Riddle orders the older two. At first they don't react, but that's only for one moment before each one of them drags the duo from Riddle's sight.

Cater returns, but Trey does not. "Where's Trey?" Riddle looks around, scanning for the person he's closest to.

"He's giving the Adeuce duo a talking to. But don't worry, I'm here to keep you company." Cater forces up cheer as he talks. He's not pleased with what he's just done, but that won't erase the fact he did it. He should at least attempt to calm Riddle down.

Riddle frowns. He would prefer both of them be there, but he can wait for Trey's inevitable return. "What's the point of having those two here if they intend to do nothing but bother me? This place is here to help me pursue my goal, how am I meant to do so if they're standing in my way?!" The intensity from the earlier situation still pumping through Riddle, causing him to lack control of his volume.

"They are trying to help. They just got different ways than me and Trey. They're here 'cause you need them." Cater gently tries to explain the scenario out to Riddle. It's his sekai, they're meant to be there for him. "Maybe you should get to know them. The way you guys interact will def change if you guys get closer. Deuce-y over there is pretty affectionate with you."

"How am I meant to get to know a person who refuses to utter a word?" Riddle's disscontempt with the situation obvious.

"Ask yes or no questions and he can nod or shake his head to answer. Unless you'd rather start by getting to know Ace." Cater adds Ace as the only other option as he's aware it'll force him into talking to at least one of them.

"I will attempt to have a discussion with Deuce. I cannot promise it'll help us bond." From the way Riddle is speaking it sounds like he's being forced into solving a hostage situation, not trying to make friends.

"Atta boy! Trey's probably all done scolding them by now, why don't you go snag Deuce for some alone time." Cater gives Riddle a slight nudge, pushing him into heading off whether he wants to or not.

Riddle mutters an array of words to express his frustration under his breath. Cater can only hope some progress is made between those three.

Riddle heads through the rose maze, heading in the direction he can heard voices. Although he cannot hear Trey, Ace's shouting is enough to help Riddle find where they are. Riddle is almost rounding a corner before he can hear the conversation clearly.

"You know Riddle's situation, you can't be too upset with how he acts." Riddle hears Trey say.

"Course I know it! But just because he's been hurt doesn't mean he gets to swing around and hurt other people! Have you even thought about how the people in his dorm must feel? Have you even done anything to try and help him?" As Ace yells this, Riddle stays as still as he can so he can eavesdrop.

"I don't want to push him into something he's not ready for." Trey says.

"So you're going to coddle him forever? Are you going to pretend everything's okay so you don't make him upset? Are you even actually on his side?" Ace continues on.

"I…" Trey starts but ultimately never finishes his sentence.

"He doesn't have any friends and you're one of the causes of it! You can't even manage to count yourself as his friend, just his defender!" If Trey has a response to what Ace had just said Riddle wouldn't hear it. He'd stormed off.

Trey, who he had put his utmost faith in, has stabbed him in the back. It is not just Ace who is intent on causing him problems, all of them must be. He's digging his phone out of his pocket when he can hear footsteps heading his way.

"It must be Trey, here to explain that Ace was simply being harsh and that he is on my side." Riddle thinks. When he looks up he's greeted by Deuce with that stupid marionette still tied to him.

"Is there a reason you chose to follow me?" Riddle snaps. "Have you come to rub salt in my wounds?"

Deuce shakes his head. He hasn't stepped into Riddle's personal space as he tends to, but Riddle still has no want to see his face.

"Do you intend to comfort me to make up for the earlier trouble you've caused? How do you plan to do that if you're too stubborn to break your goal of staying silent?" The only person Riddle wants to see less than Deuce is Ace.

Even after Riddle has tutted him for his silence Deuce stays quiet. He's another thorn in Riddle's side.

"Is there a reason you've chosen to never utter a word to me? Is there some deeper meaning to your silence or are you just being spiteful?" Riddle peppers Deuce with questions he knew the other would fail to be able to properly answer.

As Deuce thinks of a way to answer Riddle can almost see the cogs turning in his head. Deuce steps closer to Riddle, close enough that he's able to brush his fingertips against Riddle's throat.

"You chose not to talk to me because I talk?" Riddle asks. Deuce shakes his head.

"Because I haven't given you permission?" Deuce shakes his head at the answer again.

He drags his fingertips up Riddle's throat to his lips. "Stop that." Riddle says, "If you intend to help me at least tell me why you won't speak to me."

Still Deuce doesn't respond. This time he points at Riddle's throat and then the marionette he's holding with his other arm.

"You're back to mocking me?!" Riddle is absolutely sick of this behavior.

Deuce shakes his head again. He must've come to some sort of realization as he writes letters out in the air.

M-O-M

"Mom?" Riddle repeats what Deuce has written. Deuce grins and nods enthusiastically upon finally getting his message understood.

Deuce smoothes the hair of the marionette and the pieces of the puzzle fit together in Riddle's head.

The marionette is not a representation of Riddle, it's a stand in for his mother. It is not bound to Deuce, Deuce, the true marionette in this situation, is bound to it. He doesn't speak as a reflection of how Riddle lets his mother speak for him. But Deuce's version of Riddle's mother is inanimate, leaving Deuce unable to say a word.

Riddle is nauseous at confronting a representation of him and his mother on another person. Ace's insults are preferable to the good natured Deuce being a humanization of something he's refused fo acknowledge.

He reaches for Deuce's throat, unsure if he's going to squeeze the life out of it or attempt to provide some comfort. Deuce must assume the best of Riddle, letting him wrap his hand around his throat. Riddle lets his hand linger there before he realizes something is horribly wrong and pulls his hand away like he's been burned.

Deuce is not a representation of Riddle's life now, but what it would become if things do not change. A point past where Riddle let his mother speak for him, he's the point where Riddle would lose his ability to ever speak for himself. A time where he could never express what he truly wants because the problem has deepened to such a degree that he couldn't escape.

Deuce's vocal chords were severed. Even if he wants to, he can never speak for himself. Deuce exists in Riddle's sekai to show him the unfortunate future he may stumble into, the lack of free will.

It's no surprise why Ace lashes out at Riddle. He idolizes the person who, deep down Riddle has known for a while, is an abuser. He's lived in such deep denial of the situation that in order to force him to acknowledge it his sekai created a version of Ace's friend who has had his vocal chords mutilated. And Ace constantly heard Riddle praise such a woman.

But if his mother is not right, what is Riddle? He's been raised by his mother's view of the world and has since pushed that world view on others. Is Riddle in the wrong? He couldn't be.

Shoving his doubts deep down, he willing chooses to drown himself in denial. He does not want to find himself guilty so he'll find everyone else guilty. Riddle lets out an ear piercing scream.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ace appears at the scene, running up to where Riddle and Deuce are standing.

"You are! You're all against me! You've brought me here to ruin my life! This entire place was created to lure me into feeling safe so you could break me down!" Riddle's frantic, chest heaving not with anger but this time despair. He's aware Trey and Cater arrived soon after Ace and declares them equally as guilty as the rest.

"Riddle…" Trey tries to head towards Riddle, to comfort him.

Riddle rejects this. "Don't you come near me! You've turned against me just as they have!" What Riddle thinks is bile rises in his throat, bubbling in his throat.

Although Trey is not able to approach Riddle, Ace is close enough to grab Riddle by the collar. "Stop it with your hissy fit! Everything that happens here is cause of you and your inability to take responsibility for your own actions!"

"I don't need to take responsibility! My actions are just!" Riddle shouts back equally as loud as Ace had shouted at him.

Ace slams his fist into Riddle's jaw, sending him careening to the ground. Riddle's head spins. He can hear the voices of everyone else, but can't make out their shouts and gasps. He's pulled into sitting position, coming face to face with a concerned looking Trey.

Riddle feels the bile rise higher in his throat, coughing it up in Trey's face. It's not bile he coughs up, but a inky black goo. Riddle is aware what that is. He's heard about it in classes.

It's blot. But Riddle can't overblot. He's not at fault so why must he feel bad? Why must it hurt?

It's a swirling blaze of emotions as he blots, all far more intense than anything he's felt before.

"You!" He howls at Ace. "You'll regret the day you ever crossed paths with me! All of you will!"

"I think," Ace says pensively, "We're in danger." Deuce nods solemnly in agreement.

"I'm not going down until this brat finds out what his goal is." Ace says. "And you two better take responsibility and step in."

Without mentioning names it's clear Ace is speaking to the residents who had been in the sekai far longer than he had. The regret the two had been facing, the questioning of all their actions, the wondering if what they had been doing is right, they're given a chance to make it all wash away. To show they actually do want to help Riddle.

Steeling himself Trey answers Ace's call to action by stepping forward and readying himself.

"Really? We're just going to join in and go for it?" Cater looks around but moves to join Trey.

Deuce nudges Cater as if to reassure or convince him. Deuce doesn't seem particularly nervous. One could say he looking antsy to get into the fight. This doesn't reassure Cater.

Not that there is any choice to not fight. Even if Ace and Deuce are unexperienced they have Trey and Cater backing them up. All four of them have a chance at stopping Riddle.

Riddle lunges forward and Ace dodges out of the way. But it's not Ace Riddle was reaching for, it's the marionette. Riddle had grabbed the imitation of his mother, wanting an answer for her. He wails and shouts to his mother, the strong emotions Riddle feels prevalent in his expression as he attempts to pull the marionette into his arms, uncaring if Deuce's arm comes with it.

With Riddle trying to wrestle the marionette away from Deuce, Ace takes this as a chance to strike the finishing blow. "Hey! Make sure to duck at the right time!" He yells over to Deuce. Ace has enough faith in Deuce to believe he'll be able to time it right.

Ace's belief is in the right place as Deuce manages to duck, the connecting strings tearing as Riddle is thrown backwards onto the ground. Trey sprints to where Riddle is, holding him tightly in his arms.

"Mother," Riddle thinks with his eyes shut tight, "What am I meant to believe about you?" He clutches the marionette as bits and pieces fall off it.

"Riddle!" Trey calls out. Riddle opens his eyes and Trey brings him into a tight hug causing the what remains of the marionette to crumble away. Riddle leans into Trey's hug as the lingering blot fades away.

"You better have learned your lesson or else we nearly died so you could have a good time." Ace says, looking down at Riddle from a standing position. "You even broke Deuce's toy."

Riddle looks at Deuce standing besides Ace, unraveling the strings that hadn't been pulled away. Riddle opens his arms up, letting the parts of the marionette that had landed in his arms land on the ground. Before what had just happened Riddle would've frantically tried to stick the pieces together. But now his idolization of his mother's teaching has fallen apart like the marionette.

"I don't think I ever truly idolized her. I think I clung to what I had been taught because it was the only thing I had. I didn't want to let go because I would've had to acknowledge what she had done and what I have done to others." Riddle begins tearing up. His phone lights up as the formerly unnamed song gains a title.

"That's not good enough." Ace says.

"Take it easy." Cater nudges Ace. "We've made totes good progress."

"We haven't made any progress if he hasn't figured out what he wants." Ace looks from Cater to Riddle. "So, what is it?"

Riddle dissects all that happened in his mind, what each member of the sekai had given him advice on. "I want to be my own person. I don't want to live my entire life the way my mother wants me to."

Ace gives a satisfied, and slightly smug smile. "That's good enough for now."

Trey helps Riddle stand, bringing him up to be included where everyone else stood. It feels nice to not be distant from everyone else.

"Now," Ace continues, "Next time you come bring apology gifts for everyone. It's the least you can do to make up for what we just went through. And it's weird to see Deuce's arm in full view. Cover it again."

Deuce shrugs. He doesn't seem to be demanding anything, but he does shift his arm some in order to show he isn't thrilled to have nothing there.

Riddle relents to Ace's wishes. He feels he needs to take steps forward when it comes to understanding other people and seeking forgiveness is one step he can take.

He hands out each box, looking everyone over to see if they enjoyed the items he got them. Deuce is the final one to open his box, revealing a marionette that is not a recreation of his old one, but a brand new design. Something that meant as much to Riddle as it does to Deuce. It's a sign Riddle is becoming his own person.

Deuce grins then presses a quick kiss to Riddle's lips.

"What was that?" Riddle is reeling by how easily Deuce shares physical affection. He wishes Deuce would put some thought into any of his actions.

"A thank you, duh." Ace replies. "You grow used to his way of showing how he's feeling."

"He does this to everyone?" Riddle asks.

"You can't prove he doesn't. 'Sides did you think he just never communicated with us? You haven't even seen half of how he does things." Ace says. "Wait, don't tell me, was that your first kiss?"

"So what if it was?" Riddle answers and Ace resists the urge.

"Congrats man! This sekai is really moving you forward in life already!" Ace mockingly congratulates.

Riddle huffs at him. "Preach to me from your corner of no relationships!"

"Let's not fight. Aren't we all friends now?" Trey says.

"Let's take a selfie to remember this by! Everyone say cheese!" Cater gets everyone together for a photo. A photo Riddle fondly sets as his phone background.

[magicbeansprout]

I've been busy with schoolwork, so hadn't found the time to post these, but I found my stylus earlier this month! Only took me 6 months to find it 🙂. Here's some Ribbon and Diamond related stuff I drew a bit earlier in the month after finding it.

I ramble a lot here, so details on these characters are under the cut if you wanna hear me infodump about my characters and comic stuff.

First up are the fairies Bow and Tie, who help Ribbon and Diamond respectively. I'm really proud of the names, as goofy as they are. They match one another and each corelate to the respective magical girls they assist, as ribbons can be tied into bows, and neckties are diamond-shaped. Their colors and design specifics aren't set in stone, but they'll be made of fairly simple shapes so they can be drawn easily. Maybe I'll make them fully different colors from Ribbon and Diamond, with Tie being a yellow-green and Bow being lavender or another purple. Not sure though because I really like Bow with that shade of pink hair.

Next up, still on the topic of fairies, is this character whose outfit might seem familiar. (to those that have seen the singular drawing from 2? years ago of a character wearing this, this one's for you) I like how the character's personal colors look, but the colors on the outfit were kinda chosen randomly so I'll definitely be playing around with those some more. I've been wanting to rework the story of the witches, and the King is the one who's needed the most work. This is a possible concept I'm going to play around with. I don't think the proportions of the fullbody drawing will be the King's actual appearance as a fairy, looks kinda splatoon-esque lol, but since this outfit was intended for a human-sized character, I need to draw an awkward middle stage as I work to simplify the outfit for a smaller character, like a reversed Pokémon. I also think i'll be changing King's pronouns from she/her to he/him (or another combo with he/him). King still considers himself a gal gender identity-wise, but that's what he goes by and others call him. I know in Chinese and Japanese there are some masculine, pretentious? (not exactly pretentious but, like "I'm really cool/great"), personal pronouns or ways of referring to oneself. I'd think if you translated his dialogue into one of those languages or any languages that have something similar, he'd be using those in his speech. I only sorta know two languages besides English, but I definitely want to improve on them, since there are a lot of language specific jokes or gags you can play with in writing. (Plus, obviously just using the languages to talk to people lol) As you can see near the bottom, the King can also take on a human form, albeit with some slightly pointed ears. He's a lot stronger than fairies like Bow and Tie, and can maintain a human form for a very long time should he desire. I'm considering making there be different types/kinds of fairies who have different capabilities, i'll be playing around with those concepts some later. There's definitely a lot more to work with for the King. He doesn't have a proper name yet, yes even after 5 years, this is a normal pace for writing characters actually. Feel free to leave me any name suggestions for him. For reference, the other witches are:

Jo (Josephine) - the Joker. Her suit is clover (clubs, whatever) ♣️

- Her name starts with similar sounds to her witch alias, simple as.

Paige - the Jack. Her suit is hearts, which she shares with her sister. 🖤🤍 <- her hearts are drawn as half and half, kinda like a broken heart. She's the youngest of the witches and is still going through her emo phase.

- her name comes from an alternate name for the Jack in (i believe) some tarot decks, the Page.

Valentine - the Queen. Her suit is hearts, which she shares with her sister. ❤️

- Valentine, hearts, you get it.