#but turns out chains are really difficult to draw lmao

[anaalnathrakhs]

remembered i love steel type actually, here's a gymsona

i don't know if my ace would be aggron or skarmory, i love both

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

Totally cool if you don't want to share, buuuuut could we get a chapter of your book posted with Aeshma in it? I wanna REEEEEAD him lmao. I'm the one who asked to see more and sent you that DM about buying your book lmao

Lol hello again😂 I'm more than happy to share some of my story. Here's a partial chapter from book four. It was extremely difficult for me to find a chapter with Aeshma in it that didn't contain major spoilers 🥹 but here you go.

Blake is sitting in deafening silence. Freshly bandaged up, but emotionally torn to shreds. The sclera of his eyes have turned black during the heavy conversation. He’s leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, playing with the silver chain around his neck. He’s been deathly silent for several minutes now, taking in all the information that was given to him. Processing it. Resenting it.

Talon and Spade are standing side by side. Relaying the news to Blake was beyond painful. The air in the room is thick with anger and confusion. Blake has always been a time bomb, so dropping something like this in him is dangerous for everyone in the room.

Zeke is in a chair a little further away. He’s watching Blake closely, trying to read the man’s face. Asmodeus posed as Serpent, befriended Blake, and ultimately used him to get to Talon. Blake was the executioner. The one who put Talon down and set this whole thing in motion. He was a pawn. Just like everyone else.

Talon’s pretty green eyes stare at Blake affectionately. He doesn’t feel a shred of resentment towards him. None. “Blake…” He takes a small, hesitant step forward, but recoils when Blake suddenly stands up. He blinks and gasps when the taller man shoves past him. He won’t take it personally. He understands Blake is just as much a victim as he is.

“I should have fuckin’ known.” Blake growls as he throws on his shirt. “How the fuck did I not see that?” He runs his tattooed fingers through his messy mohawk and scoffs, his eyes glinting. "How could I be so fuckin' stupid!" He kicks a nearby chair, sending it slamming against the wall.

Talon flinches, his heart breaking for the man.

“It’s not very hard for a demon of his caliber to pull a stunt like that.” Aeshma says, walking into the room with a dark look on his face. He dips down so he can fit through the doorway. "He has pulled the wool over the eyes of thousands."

“Holy shit.” Zeke stands up as the demon steps into view. His wide eyes are locked on him. He's still not used to this absolute giant being on their side.

Talon and Spade also can’t help but stare. Blake is looking at Aeshma over his shoulder. He’s seen the demon look like this before, so it’s less if a shock to him. However, it’s no less eye pleasing.

“Is that so?” Blake asks, almost distrustfully.

“It is.” Aeshma stands tall, his head lifted proudly. He has on a large, long coat. It’s black with tan fur lining the inside and the collar is high. Much to contrary belief, the fourth circle of Hell is extremely cold. Spiked metal armlets are around each of Aeshma’s wrists. He has on black tactical boots and black pants. His broad shoulders are adorned with deadly looking spiked pouldrons. Black leather straps with glistening buckles hold his impressive sword in place. Also strapped to him is a massive battle axe, freshly sharpened and stained with blood. Daggers are resting in holders on his belt and chest straps and strapped to each leg. A few other things are hanging from the demon’s belt. Two skulls stand out the most. One that looks human, and the other looks like it came from some strange animal.

“What is that?” Zeke is closer now, pointing to the strange skull. His eyes narrow curiously. “Some kind of deer?” He leans in to get a better look.

Aeshma looks down at his belt and then looks at Zeke. “Wendigo.” His rich voice carries even when he speaks softly.

“Oh, fuck…” Zeke breathes nervously, drawing his hand back. “Those actually exist?” Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Not after everything that’s happened these past few months.

Blake moves Zeke to the side so he can face Aeshma. “They told me ya brought me here. Said ya gave ‘em what they needed to save me.”

Aeshma’s expression doesn’t change. “I did.” He confirms.

Blake meets the demon’s gaze, not saying anything. He nods gratefully. Years of respect are shared between the two.

Aeshma nods back. “Good to see you’re finally awake, Stahller.” He says lowly.

Zeke steps up again, displaying his lack of boundaries. A glimmer catches his curious eye. “What’s this?” His fingertips brush over what appears to be a bracelet hooked onto Aeshma’s belt. Near the buckle. Rose gold and diamond studded. Some of the diamonds are missing.

Aeshma grabs Zeke’s wrist with enough force to make the blond shout in pain. He leans in, growling deep in his throat. “Don’t. Touch. That.” His razor sharp canines are bared as he squeezes harder.

“AH! AH!” Zeke’s knees buckle and he hisses in pain, trembling slightly. He blinks away agonized tears and gasps. “I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Aeshma doesn’t let go or even loosen his hold. His eyes are trained on Zeke, a dangerous look in them. “It’s rude to touch another man’s things, you know.” He tilts his head to the side, his black hair falling away from his eyes.

“Aeshma.” Talon speaks gently. Seeing Zeke getting hurt is upsetting, however Talon doesn’t want to yell. Whatever or whoever that bracelet is from, it’s obviously something the demon deeply cares about. Maybe it was his sister’s. He thinks, biting his lip subtly. It’s strange to see Aeshma act so sentimental. However, Talon would be lying if he said it wasn’t compelling.

Aeshma’s grip tightens even more, his touch searing Zeke’s skin. He twists the boy’s wrist, bringing Zeke to his knees. He’s ready to break it. He refuses to let Talon’s soft voice weaken him. He can’t. Not again.

Zeke grunts loudly, his eyes widening when he sees the smoke coming off of Aeshma’s large hand. Pain is ripping through his whole arm now. He grits his teeth. “F-fuck..!” He whimpers.

“Aeshma.” Talon says just as gently as before. He decides to test the waters, and he steps over to the large demon, resting his delicate hand on Aeshma’s forearm. “Please.” He lifts his gaze, glimmers of pink revealing themselves to the older man.

Aeshma accidentally meets Talon’s gaze, and he closes his eyes tightly. ‘Dammit.’ He relaxes his muscles and releases Zeke’s wrist with a deep, rumbling sigh. He stands up straight and looks right at Talon. “Do you have an answer for me?” He asks, deciding to move on from Zeke’s behavior.

Talon knows he can relax now. He’s surprised speaking softly actually worked with this brute. “No, but I promise I’ll have an answer when you come back.” He smiles playfully, letting his hand slip from the man’s arm. “So make sure you come back.”

Aeshma pauses for a moment before a smirk plays on his lips. “Very well.” He rolls his shoulders and turns his attention to Blake. “My soldiers are everywhere now. There isn’t a state in his god forsaken country that doesn’t have a warrior of Khadah in it. Nothing will happen that won’t get back to me. I would prefer you all to stay here, where it’s safe.”

Blake nods. “I have no problem wit’ that. I just have to make sure some things are still in order. I was out for two weeks. I also have some shit to set straight.”

“If you’re speaking of Samael, I strongly suggest you hold off, Stahller.” Aeshma says calmly but firmly, adjusting his heavy coat. “Hunting him down right now will only bring unnecessary attention to you and your friends.”

‘Fuck, he’s right.’ Blake thinks with a frustrated scoff. “Fine. I’ll let him live. For now.”

Aeshma chuckles and smiles at the man. “I understand the allure of vengeance. You are more than welcome to join me today.”

Spade adjusts his glasses nervously. “I really don’t think—”

“Where are ya goin’?” Blake leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. He can feel Spade’s disapproving glare burning into him.

“I’m leading an attack on Mammon.” Aeshma notices Mahrem coming into the room. “He has stepped out of the lines of our treaty one too many times. I need to make an example of him.”

“As fun as that sounds, big guy, I’m in no state for war.” Blake declines with a chuckle. Gesturing to the bandages covering most of his torso. “Still recoverin’ from bein’ stabbed by an angel. And I really don’t want to face the wrath of the princess over there.” He cocks his head to a visibly disgruntled Spade.

Aeshma smiles at that, amused. “I understand.” He says simply.

“H-How long will you be gone?” Talon asks, slightly nervous. Isn’t Mammon one of the seven princes? And Aeshma is going to just march on him? Does he have any fear at all? He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he doesn’t understand why he’s so concerned. It’s just Aeshma.

“It shouldn’t take long.” Aeshma assures Talon with a subtle nod. He can hear the hybrid’s heartbeat. His eyes narrow and a sly smile forms on his face. “Are you worried about me, bunny?” He crosses his arms and arches one scarred eyebrow.

Talon’s face turns a deep shade of red when suddenly all eyes are on him. “Of course not!” He spits out anxiously, his heart beating faster. “I just don’t want to wait all day. You’ve got so much going on, I don’t really have that many chances to speak with you.” He pushes some of his hair behind his ear and looks down.

Aeshma’s deep chuckle flusters Talon further. “I’ll be sure to make room for you on my agenda.” He uses the knuckle of his index finger to turn Talon’s chin up. “So you don’t feel neglected.” He rumbles smoothly.

Zeke and Spade glance at each other with wide eyes and red cheeks, wondering what the hell they missed.

Talon yanks his face away from the demon’s touch, face burning even redder. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t feel neglected. Impatient more than anything.” He mutters dryly.

“Of course.” Aeshma says, his smile remaining for a moment. “Maher.” He looks at his second in command now, expression serious. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.” Mahrem says, fixing his posture as he’s addressed by his commander. “As are the others.”

“Good.” Aeshma says approvingly. “Let’s get going.” He nods to the others before walking out with Mahrem.

“Jesus Christ…” Zeke grumbles, snapping out of his haze and rubbing his wrist. “That psycho almost took my hand off.”

“Let me have a look.” Spade adjusts his glasses again as he steps over to examine Zeke’s wrist. “You really need to stop touching people.” He mutters.

“Nice job calmin’ him down, snowflake.” Blake crosses his arms as he speaks. Part of him still feels the sharp knife of guilt in his chest. The weight of the news about Asmodeus is heavy on him. “Where’d ya learn that trick?”

Talon shrugs and closes his eyes lightly as he pulls his hair up into a ponytail. He feels hot all over and it’s irritating. “Yelling doesn’t solve everything.” He says simply. He smiles a little, proud of himself for calming the demon.

“Talon! Oh, my gosh! You’ll never believe what Rachelle just told me!” Matt comes rushing into the room, his excitement making him momentarily unaware of Blake. “She—” He stops cold, his eyes finally spotting the man over by the wall. “Blake!? Blake! You’re up!” He rushes over and wraps his arms around the man. His eyes are watery and his chest aches with joyful relief. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake!” He exclaims emotionally.

Blake hugs Matt briefly, rubbing the boy’s back. “Yeah, so am I, dollface. Didn’t plan on comin’ back, but someone kept buggin’ me.” He glances up at Zeke and winks.

Zeke scoffs and looks away. “Jackass…” The blond grumbles.

“This is fantastic! I’ll go get Zayne!” Matt turns away to walk back out the door, way to excited about Blake to remember what he even came into the room for.

“Matt wait! What did you want to tell me about Rachelle!?” Talon calls after him, taking one step forward. He needs the distraction.

“Oh! I’ll tell you later!” Matt calls back, his voice fading as he disappears up the staircase.

[ryuichirou]

Lord God Savior of All Ryu, I ask for but one noble request. lol i just wanna see all your AUs. Like, I always here about them in replies and stuff but I've almost never seen what they actually look like. So if you could just tag pics of them or doodle (they can be super bad 30 sec doodles too, it don't matter to me) them, I would be the happiest, most joyful little shit ever.

Anon!! Thank you for being so interested in our AUs and wanting to learn more about them. It was a very good excuse for us to go through the list of the AUs, doodle them, revisit some of the older ones, etc. So yeah, your wish is granted lol

Here’s the majority of them, we decided not to include those that we’ve barely talked about and thought out... I’ve put tags for those AUs where we have at least something posted. Most of them are something we haven’t even talked about at all and they don’t have a single sketch, but I liked drawing chibis for them way too much. Sorry, I used your ask lol

We have a general tag for our aus and specific ones for some of them, but sometimes an au from here is not tagged separately, so you might have to use this general tag...I tried to fix it, I don’t think I missed anything, so it should be ok now! ;w;

1. Space AU. It’s a story about a space expedition.. which turned out to be not exactly what everyone planned thanks to Erwin. What a commander! 

2. Tribal AU. It’s a story about Eren becoming a part of the tribe where Erwin and Levi live. 

3. Babysitter AU. Levi is a babysitter to Eren and Zeke, unfortunately for Zeke, who’s 17 and not exactly thrilled about being babied. Sometimes there’s kid Erwin too. We’ve never posted anything related to this AU, I think, and I don’t think we will. There’s another AU related to this one, but 19yo Eren from the paths (he has the memory of the manga events) keeps kid Eren company as an invisible ghost, while others think that kid Eren is cursed or something.

4. SnK AU. A classical one, where Eren has dreams about the plot of SnK, but when the story stops progressing, he decides to kidnap Levi to make the plot go on. Erwin finds out later... and keeps Levi in the basement because he wants to know the ending too lmao plus it’s hot.

5. Mines AU. Erwin gathered a team for his wonderful plan to find a treasure, but it’s not like the rest of the team needs to know where they’re really going. Zeke’s particularly terrified to find that out. Despite its name, they spend the majority of time in the forest. Also, there’s a timeskip of 11 years. 

6. AU with Neetwin who’s a history teacher. We don’t tag this one though, it’s not like it’s our AU. So now it’s a Neetwin tag, although one of the drawings is with adult Levi... eh, who cares. 

7. CC AU (cleaning company). Levi works in a cleaning company and cleans up Neetwin and hobo Eren’s apts. They need a lot of work. Yes, they make their apts even dirtier to make Levi spend more time there. 

8. Prison AU. Damn this one is good... we came up with it before reading the timeskip in the manga, so Eren’s appearance doesn’t really match his age, he’s 17 lol Levi is a mafia member who goes to prison because he need to kill one of the inmates (who later became Zeke) on Erwin’s (Levi’s boss) request. Eren’s his personal guard, although Eren works as a regular guard too.

9. King Kong AU. It’s an AU where the Beast Titan is King Kong lmao Zeke is having fun killing dinosaurs... Levi, not so much. Thank Erwin for his wonderful plan of going to this island.

10. Rus AU, basically just characters living in Russia. Because ofc we will have this type of a setting... Damn, I thought we drew this one more often, huh. 

11. Sea AU. Mainly our modern AU, we use it as a base for other modern stuff for the most part. Levi’s getting two boifrond rings, he lives with Erwin, Eren visits them often, Zeke bitches a lot, fun times with and without Zeke, stuff like that. There’s also a subplot (11.5) where Eren gets “kidnapped” by a witch, so Zevi have to find him and bring him back. Titans exist in this AU, Eren and Zeke are titans, and all of them have military training, but Erwin and Levi retired some time ago. We don’t have a tag for just a modern setting, though. 

12. Cult AU. Eren lives on a farm and has a whole village of his followers. He also has cursed animals... and I think we’ve told about some of the plot points in replies. Erwin’s really into all this cult stuff because it affects reality for real, so he asks Levi to follow rituals, although Levi came to ask Eren to go back to normal life and finish the fucking school. 

13. Serial killer AU. Eren’s a serial killer, duh. Never posted anything with this one, unfortunately, but Eren got disappointed in the police when he was a child, so he decided to fix the situation himself, while Erwin and Levi, as a part of a special department, investigate his “fixing”. It also has a time skip. I really need to redraw at least one sketch...

14. Hospital AU. Levi gets into Marley trying to make Eren go back, but it’s not that simple because Eren doesn’t want to lol Basically canonverse with this small change.

15. Hobo AU. Eren and Levi are hobos, Zeke wants his brother to stop living under a fucking bridge. Later Erwin takes both of them under his roof because he really likes Levi, but he can’t leave Eren alone.

16. Doggies AU. AU where Eren’s a wolf and Erwin’s a doggo. Levi got Erwin because he was a retiring trained dog and sniffed enough drugs in his life, and Eren... his “owner” found him on the streets and lied to Levi about Eren being a dog. Later Eren turned into a magnificent beast and now he doesn’t want to leave. There’s also Zeke, but he belongs to Xavier. 

17. AU where Eren wants to become a mangaka. The first post is self-explanatory, although I’d probably make some changes now if I cared enough. There’s also a time skip where Eren ditched his manga and became hobo!Eren. His editor was pissed lol 

18. Scolopendra Eren AU. You know the drill, and I’ve talked about the plot in some of the replies. 

This post doesn’t show up on the tag for some reason.

19. Ghost Eren AU. I should’ve named it combini AU... Anyway, I’ve talked about this one a lot, although poor Erwin gets neglected a little bit lol it’s hard to compete with a ghost when you’re just a mere stalker... but a very invested one. Eren likes Erwin here, they’re vibing on the same malicious-towards-Levi wave. 

20. Shark Eren AU. It’s just for us for funs, Eren’s a shark, and Levi’s there to help him fight depression. Eren later escapes into the sea.

21. Midsommar AU. Levi and Erwin get an invite to go to the village from Yelena, Eren’s a part of a cult who is kinda attracted to one of the newcomers... Such a good movie, we need to draw them properly. Both Yeagerists and Eldians are a part of the cult, they don’t have any specific rules by which I categorised them... Although not all characters are present, and some of them (Jean, I think) are newcomers who will join the cult later. Sorry, I don’t remember much. 

22. Silent Hill AU. It started with Erwin peeking into Levi’s apartment, but now there’s Eren too... We haven’t thought out this one, I’m bad with Silent Hill AUs for some reason. 

23. House Eren AU. Eren’s a house, and we’ve explained how it works too, so just check out the tag. Levi actually lives there with Erwin, but I don’t remember if we’ve mentioned it or decided to skip this info. 

24. Eren pack AU. It’s an AU where Erens of all ages (6 of them, I believe) are a little bit feral, and they have wolf ears and tails, and they live in a specific place and Levi visits them every day and takes care of them. They love Levi. Here’s the only post that survived, and here’s a link for a twitter post which I never got back on tumblr after it got deleted. 

25. Trailer AU. The story is about Levi who has to live with Zeke for a month as his slave because Erwin lost him in a game of cards lol To be fair, Erwin lost a lot of money and their whole flat, and Zeke gave them a choice between that and Levi (he’s horny ok), and Levi agreed. Zeke even put Levi on a chain, although Levi doesn’t even try to escape...

26. Flower shop AU. Eren’s a plant, and he brings death to the whole planet. He keeps Levi alive though, as a treat for himself. We’ve explained some of the stuff in the replies. 

27. Blair Witch AU. It’s pretty much explained in this post, and if you saw the movie, there’s nothing for me to tell you. Everything that’s different from it is in the post lol 

28. Corpse AU. Eren’s a corpse, Levi’s a pathologist who works on difficult and mysterious cases alongside the police. Eren later comes to life along with a couple of other bodies...

29. Antichrist AU. Zevi adopt baby Eren, but Eren’s a fucking satan. He loves Levi, but Zeke... not so much. Zeke loves Eren to death, though. Eren would love to organise that, but first he needs to grow up a little bit. It doesn’t mean that he won’t torture his parents during his journey. And everyone else who interact with them.

30. This one doesn’t have a title, but it’s an AU where kid Eren went missing, and Levi goes into the forest to find him. Levi owns Erwin who’s a good doggo and helps him find Eren. It turns out Eren killed two adult dudes, and he has paths!Eren telling him what to do and how to do it... Paths!Eren has the memory of the canonverse.

31. Zombie apocalypse AU. There’s only one drawing with it though, but basically Levi builds himself a wonderful place to survive the apocalypse, and he keeps Zombie Erwin in the basement in hopes of Hange finding a cure. Then Eren joins just because he can and because Levi’s very awesome. Eren has a boner for the apocalypse and enjoys every second of it. 

32. No title, but Eren was casted away from the canon universe for the rumbling, and now he’s a mythological giant wolf who lives in a deep very old forest. He was very surprised to find out Levi exists in this universe... So he kidnapped him ❤️

33. Halloween AU. You’ve seen this one, it’s a story where Jean, Connie, Sasha and Eren get into the wrong house and find a ritual instead of a Halloween party... So after saving the child who, as it turns out, is not really a victim, they decide to ditch him at Eruri’s place.

34. Okusan AU. Levi’s a housewife, Erwin is a cuckold who’s really into adultery. He invites both Zeke and Eren from time to time to act as Levi’s husbands, and they (Levi and Erwin) almost get caught because the “husband” suddenly came home... Sorry, we’ve read too many doujinshis lol

35. Island AU. Erwin loves sending Levi to dangerous places to get souvenirs for himself, and now it’s time for Levi to get a crystal from a very isolated island full of strict rules in terms of interacting with outsiders. We have a cool idea for a two part drawing (like with our flower shop au), but it’ll take us ages to complete anything at this rate... I have like two sketches on Patreon for now, but damn this AU has so many cool visuals we wanna draw... It’s another cult AU with people living on Paradis (more like one village in the middle of the island), isolated from the rest of the world. They don’t welcome strangers, and Levi has three months to find and steal that crystal, although it’s not that simple.

36. Erewan. Not exactly a full AU, but Erewan’s a cursed animal plushie who kills people and loves Levi a lot. 

37. Cat AU. Everyone’s a cat (duh). Not really our AU, but it has its own tag, and it’s only asks. 

38. Tiny founder Eren AU?? Again, not really our AU, but now it has its own tag. 

I’ve also found the reply where I talk about how characters’ relationships work in some of the AUs, you can check it out too. I thought it was fitting for a master post. 

[deadly-departed]

Hello! I thought of this request while I was in online class lmao. Ok so how about a yandere scenario with Hanako, Tsukasa and Teru seeing their darling s/o trying to escape from them??

Oh hell yes! We love yandere Tsukasa in this household- like, please, I would let him yoink me and throw me into his boundary. I'm such a simp istg

Hanako-Kun The Bathroom Ghost, Wonder No. 7

You had escaped, neither your nor him know exactly how you got out but you did

And now, you were hiding, hoping that he would eventually give up on looking for you and then you could finally get out of this cursed school.

But you forgot one thing

Unlike you and your human friends, ghosts don't need to sleep.

So while you were hiding in your little storage closet, trying your hardest not to doze off because of the lack of sleep you'd had in Hanako's grasp, the apparition was searching the school from top to bottom.

And after he recruited a handful of Mokke, he had found you, sound asleep on the floor.

He couldn't help but laugh at how weak you looked when asleep, it was adorable!

He watched you for a moment, your chest rising and falling softly as you breathe

Hanako thought of all the things he could do to you, but of course he doesn't do anything! Because that's wrong and he doesn't want you to hate him!

But he does pick you up, making sure not to wake you as he carries you back to your little prison.

Once you woke up, the first thing you saw were Hanako's sad eyes looking at you.

"Moon, why did you try to escape? I thought you loved me." Hanako asks, hurt glossing his amber eyes.

You look away from him. You are not letting him guilt trip you. You know that's what he's trying to do, he's done it before.

"I hate it here." You mumble, watching the Mokke stack themselves into a small pyramid.

Hanako felt himself about to cry, his vision blurring as he tries to come up with an excuse for you.

You were just tired! Yeah, that's it! He's been keeping you up for days on end because he forgot that humans need sleep!

"Moon, just get some rest, that's all you need. You're tired." Hanako says, smiling softly at you.

"I don't need sleep! I need you to let me go!" You cry out, tugging at the chains on your arm.

You were always so difficult. You were never satisfied with anything that Hanako did for you.

"Tell me what I'm doing wrong." Hanako says, grasping your hands in his cold ones.

"Tell me how to make you happy and hoe to get you to smile! I want us to be together! Please!" As he begged, his grip on your hands subconsciously became tighter.

"Tell me why you hate me so much!"

His grip was unbearable.

"Ha-hanako, you're hurting me...!" You whimpering out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

Hanako's eyes widen and he immediately let's go, his hands moving quickly to his chest.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry..." He kept mumbling apologies as he basically ran out of the room, leaving you tied up with nothing other then the Mokke to keep you company.

Tsukasa Yugi, The Rumor Spreader

Sakura was bound to Tsukasa. She had to do what he said even if it pained her. That was why she took care of you so often.

Tsukasa told her to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn't escape. She hated it, taking care of you.

Not that she hated you or having to take care of another person! She liked you, but she hated the events that lead up to your meeting.

And after months of worrying for your safety, she finally had enough and decided to help you escape.

"Please, just be quiet, I'll get in a lot of trouble for doing this. I just can't stand seeing you suffer anymore." She states quietly as she takes you out of the Boundary.

You two were so close, you could see the front doors.

Yet as soon as you were close enough to open them, you heard an all too familiar laugh behind you.

Both yours and Sakura's eyes widen as your blood runs cold. You knew who it was, you had no need to turn around, especially with the arms and legs wrapping around your shaking form.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tsukasa whispers into your ear, giggling softly.

You shook more as you felt him lick the shell of you're ear.

"Well?" He smirks, before looking to Sakura.

"Take them back to the boundary. Now." He says, his eyes darkening.

Sakura looks down at the ground before nodding, grabbing your wrist tightly before walking back into the depths of the school. "I'm really sorry, you know I don't want to do this." She mumbles

Back in the boundary, Sakura cuffed you back down to your chair before backing away from you.

Tsukasa held a sharp knife, the sadistically cute smile grazing his lips as he looked at you with darkened eyes.

Though you prayed that this was an empty threat of harm, it seemed all too real to be fake.

"Why'd you try to escape? Do you not like it here?" He asked, a mocking innocence threading his voice as he helped you and brought his pointer finger up to his bottom lip. "Amane said that people like being taken care of by their partners. And Amane never lies!"

"You're not taking care of me." You whimper as you watch the apparition play with the knife in his hands.

"Yes I am." He says, smiling at you before turning his attention away from you. "That's not the big problem though." He states as he stares at Sakura. "You helped them escape. You can't disobey what I say!" He yells like a child, throwing the knife at her, missing her face by a few inches.

Sakura stood there, her normally blank expression showing clear fear as her form shook.

Tsukasa then once again turns back to you, a big smile on his face.

"You made me so scared! I thought someone was gonna hurt you or try to take you away from me!" He cries out as he glomps you, wrapping his limbs around your body in a tight hug.

"I need to make sure that everyone knows you're mine!" Tsukasa exclaims happy as he opens his mouth and bites down on your neck harshly enough to draw blood.

You scream out in pain, tears pricking your eyes as you writhe underneath the boy.

Sakura turned away and covered her ears, wanting to cry herself.

"You need to learn your lesson!" Tsukasa chimes, smiling happily as a bit of blood trailed down the corner of his mouth.

Teru Minamoto, The School Prince

He'd be upset, not only at you, but at himself and anyone who tried to help you.

He'd punish you and threaten the helpers.

Kou sighs, scratching at the back or his head as he looks at the mess he'd made in the living room.

Where has Tiara's Mokke gone? He's looked around the entire house and couldn't find it.

As one last resort, he walked to the basement door. Yes, Teru told him not to go in there, but it was for their sister, he would understand, right?

He grabs the cold handle, pulling the door open. Kou looks down at the dark stairs.

He pulls out his phone, turning on the flashlight before descending the staircase, keeping the light on steps so that he wouldn't slip.

You looked at the Minamoto, refusing to make any noise. Hoping that he wasn't here for you

You watched as he first went to the other half of the basement, shining his phone light in some boxes and digging around a bit before moving to the next.

"Not here either where could it have gone? It's not like it could ha-" Kou's eyes widen as he turns around, his flashlight illuminating the other side of the room, and thus you.

"Wh-what are you doing in our basement?" Kou asks, trying to sound brave as he looks at you.

"I... Um..." You tried to this k of something, anything to say that wouldn't make you sound weird.

But you also count say that his brother kidnapped you, what would Kou think?

"It's not what you think," You say, panicked.

"That doesn't answer my question." He says, taking steps closer to your shaking frame.

"What are you doing in my house?" He asks, a slightly more demanding tone in his voice.

You curl up into a ball, your kneed to your chest and covering your head, causing the chains on your ankle and wrist to rattle loudly, shining them in the light.

"Pl-please don't hurt me." You beg, shaking more.

Teru never hurt you, of course not, but you were always so scared that he would.

Kou's eyes widen as he looks at you and the chains tethering you to the bed and wall. "Why are..." He stops himself, only walking closer to you to get a better look at the cuffs.

"How long have you been down here...?" Kou questions, setting his phone down on the bed, the light illuminating the ceiling.

You life your head up slightly, taken slightly aback by how close he suddenly was.

"...A few months maybe? I have nothing to tell time with other than Teru coming in to say good morning before he goes to school and goodnight." You mumble looking down at the bed, slipping your arms under your knees and hugging your thighs closer to you.

"Teru-nii? What do you mean? Never mind, I need to get you out of here, what's you're name?" He asks, looking for a way to get the cuff off your ankle.

"Uh.. Y/N. I'm a third year." You state, watching him analysis the cuff.

You watch Kou, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to escape this hell hole.

That is until you hear someone clear their throat at the top of the basement stairs.

You freeze, eyes widening as you refuse to look up, knowing exactly who it is.

Teru sighs as he walks down the steps, shaking his head softly.

He looked at the scene unfolding in front of him, his dear little brother had found his darling, who happened to be locked in the basement.

"T-Teru-nii, why is Y/N-Senpai in our basement?" Kou asked, his voice changing slightly.

"Better question," Teru starts, his eyes glaring daggers into his brother. "Why are you in here? I told both you and Tiara not to go in here, didn't I?"

Kou's eyes widen slightly as he stood up right.

"Well, yeah but-" Kou starts.

"Then why are you here. And why are you trying to help them escape? They're here for a reason Kou." Teru states, crossing his arms as he stands in front of his brother.

"I knew I couldn't trust you with something like this." Teru mumbles as he turns his attention to his darling, still unmoving in the bed.

"Darling, are you alright? Did kou do anything to you?" He asks, kneeling down next to you.

"Get away from them!" Kou shouts, causing you to jump.

Teru stands up straight again, looking over to his brother as his eyes darken. "Kou, you have no idea what I'm doing. They're here because they need to be protected, they need someone to look after them. And I'm that person, I love them and they love me."

Kou looks up at his brother, slight fear glossing over his eyes as he does so.

You felt useless. Like a toy that two toddlers were fighting over. You were powerless.

"T-teru please, leave him alone... He doesn't understand." You say quietly, trying to calm your captor down.

The older Minamoto looks over at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "Darling I know, but he's getting in the way."

Kou looks at you, shock evident on his face. "Senpai, are you really taking his side on this? He kidnapped you!" Kou stresses.

"He did it for my own good." You fake a smile as you look at Kou, ready to break down.

"Now, Kou. Leave the basement, never come back down here and never tell anyone what you saw here." Teru orders.

Kou sighs, his head dropping as he grabs his phone and slowly makes his way back upstairs.

Teru turns once again to you. "Now, for you."

"How should I punish you? Isolation? Sleep deprivation?" Teru chuckles, thinking of all the things he could do.

"I think sleep deprivation sound suitable, don't you?"

[belle-keys]

I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

[littlemisslol-fic]

Mayhaps... Varian is found by the Saporians after Qfad and they take him under his wing... but when explaining their plan to him he ain't quite keen on killing anyone, so they mess with his head to make him the perfect saporian.

Ooooooooo interesting! I always love season one Varian, such an angry little goblin lol

THIS ONE GOT LONG TOO LMAO

1. They find the kid half buried in the snow. Andrew and his crew had been keeping to the outskirts of Corona, thinner guard numbers, more wiggle room to move during the day, but on their way to their new hideout they stumble across him nearly dead. For a second Andrew thinks to leave him, to continue on. The kid’s Coronan, he’s not their problem.

But then he recognizes the boy. The one from the expo, with the invention that had started a storm and had nearly killed them all. Andrew hadn’t known that kind of power was even possible, not without magic at least, and here was some little boy making a machine out of garbage and tape that was capable of such destruction.

They take Varian with them.

2. When the boy first wakes up, he immediately starts to cry. Andrew can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as the kid blurts out his story. A betrayal from a friend, a useless King. A dead father. Corona had taken a lot from all of them, parents, sisters, brothers, friends, but this is the first time he’s seen the kingdom turn against one of their own.

Varian is a gullible kid. Even when he’s near devastated, he still looks towards anything with a pulse for approval; it’s easy for Andrew to placate him, to twist the scenario into something useful. It doesn’t feel good to do so, but it’s for the cause. It’s simple to take Varian’s sorrow, his grief, and turn it against the royal family, and eventually against Corona entirely.

They betrayed you, he tells the kid, left you to rot. You refused to be quiet, asked the difficult questions, and for that they turned against you. They’d rather live in blissful ignorance than actually help anyone.

Varian is easy to trick, to mold. His guard falls the second someone tells him he’s done a good job. Andrew knows that Varian thinks he’s in charge of what’s happening, thinks that he’s the one using Andrew. He couldn’t be more wrong.

The kid’s smart, deadly so. All it takes is a little push and the kid’ll be a perfect Saporian to add to their ranks. Varian’s an incredibly useful resource- he may not be a fighter, but his inventions and tactical capabilities are unparalleled, even at such a young age. Andrew can’t help but pay him close attention, drawing the kid further into his net.

Besides, he would need an heir, eventually.

3. Eventually they go for the Sundrop flower. Andrew already knows it’s a crapshoot, but Varian’s determined and to try and stop him would uproot all of Andrew’s careful groundwork. So they go, fight through the catacombs as a group. It’s easy with so many of them, even with the massive automaton that nearly kills them. Varian geeks out about it, but Andrew can see the gears turning in that brain of his.

They reach the flower.

Just as Varian shoves it in his bag, the princess shows up. She looks shocked to see them all together, her eyes zeroing in on Varian with horror. It’s obvious that she thought he was safe at home. Rapunzel snaps at them, frantically tells Varian to get away from them, to get away from Andrew, but Varian only scowls.

He turns his back on the princess, and Andrew feels smug.

4. Varian starts to double time his inventions after meeting with the princess. It seems seeing her had sparked an anger in him; almost in a split second he goes from devastated waif to ball of fury. He builds weapons, bombs, potions and elixirs.

Even automatons.  

Old Corona becomes Saporian territory. The villagers are long gone, abandoning everything out of fear of the black rocks. It’s a good vantage point, high on a hill with a thick wall to the back- Andrew couldn’t ask for a better place to start their revolution. Spurring it all is Varian, who gives them an edge they’d never had before. For the first time in almost a thousand years, Saporia has the advantage.

Andrew will see victory, with his successor by his side.

5. They go too far. Varian, for all his anger and pain, hadn’t wanted to cause undue pain to anyone. Andrew had been slowly working on it, squashing those pesky morals out with some soft guidance and a well-placed word.

It all comes crashing down when Varian sees them doing away with a spy.

A guard, young and stupid, had been caught. Jupiter had taken him out, as she always did, but they’d forgotten to check around before starting to drag the body away. Varian nearly screams at the sight of blood, flinching back. Andrew catches him, an arm around thin shoulders to keep him from running off.

Varian tries to argue, to demand that they stop this, they’d gone too far.

It’s easy to put him back in his place.

6. (Bonus) Varian betrays them, in the end. Kid rigs his own inventions to fail, the automatons collapsing under their own weight. Without them, the Saporians are forced to retreat, but Andrew knows better. Before he goes he throws Varian from his side, casts the kid clean off a bridge and into the moat below. If he survives, Andrew doesn’t care.

Varian does live, but he wakes up chained to a bed in the castle infirmary. Rapunzel sits nearby, holding his hand. The second she sees his eyes open she starts to cry, shaking her head and begging to know why he did what he did. He tells her about Quirin, about Andrew, about it all. He doesn’t expect to be forgiven, doesn’t even expect to be spared the gallows; he’s shocked when Rapunzel only hugs him tightly, promising to help him. 

It’s rocky,, and full of missteps, but eventually they grow back to a place where they’d call each other friends. Varian and Rapunzel work together, accepting that they both had made mistakes, they’d both either let things happen or had taken it too far.

When Andrew comes back, Varian stands against him, his friends at his side.

OKAY YIKES THAT WAS REALLY LONG LMAO I just love the intricacies of season one, all the craziness is always a treat. Thank you for the ask, these are really fun!!! 💕💕

Send me an AU, and I’ll come back with 5 points about it!

[thewhumperinwhite]

ATTD: The Demon in Atychia Town

Previous: Intro 1 // Intro 2 // Intro 3

This is long but I couldn’t find a very natural place to split it, so. It’s staying one piece.

Pray for Jasper everyone lmao

@whumpitywhumpwhump @favwhumpstuff

TW for: starvation/aftermath of starvation; alcohol use/drunkenness; people are threatened and shot at with a crossbow; nonhuman whumpee with captivity and wing whump; dehumanization and “it” language for a sapient, nonhuman creature. Also Will is doing some wild, like, masking here and I’m not sure how to warn for that exactly.

----

The boy called Will, apparently skeleton and little else, weighed only very slightly more than Jasper’s pack, and carrying him would have been no burden at all if not for the desperate litany of apologies he muttered directly into Jasper’s ear for the entire journey back to town.

Then Jasper saw what was sitting in the center of Atychia Town. It had not been there when he had left, and it shouldn’t have been there now.

He dropped the boy onto his unsteady feet then and there, beside the wellhouse, barely waiting to see that the boy stayed upright, because there was no room for anything in his head other than this: to go to the only building in town likely to have people in it at this hour, and find out who among them had chained up a demon in the town square.

----

There was a stain on the thickly-varnished wood of the table in the front righthand corner of the Sheep’s Eye Inn and Tavern. It was dark red, and enough like wine for plausible deniability, and it did not seem to be coming out, no matter how hard Lia scrubbed at it.

Jasper Run, the Magician, could have magicked it out easily enough, Lia thought, scrubbing savagely. If he was interested in using his magic for anything useful. Not that she would have asked him to start with scrubbing her tables. You could do all sorts of things with magic, in minutes, that would take the people of Atychia months and years to do otherwise. Deepen wells, for instance. Trick crops into growing thicker and healthier. Make rain.

Alright, Lia thought, her hands drawing into fists around her cleaning rag. That last was maybe better left to a Sorcerer than a Magician. But still. He hadn’t even fixed the temple roof, and any third-rate conjurer could do that.

Harsh, ugly laughter erupted from the big table in the center of the bar area, where her employer and his horrible friends were drinking themselves into a violent stupor. Lia’s shoulders tightened and she scrubbed at the stain even harder, because what she wanted to do was break things, and that might make her finally lose her job.

“Oy, Lass! Another round for my boys, here!” Old Meyr called in a heavily slurred voice.

Lia tried to remind herself why she wanted to keep this job so bad, anyway.

Straightening, Lia plastered on a smile that felt two sizes too tight and went over to see what the idiots wanted.

“I wonder what the reward will be, when we get down to Archae,” the youngest of Meyr’s little friends was saying excitedly, leaned across the table with a hazy grin on his face and a mostly-empty bottle clutched in his fist.

“If we get down to Archae,” the oldest of the group said dourly, earning a pout from his junior. “We’ve a long ways to go yet, lad, and I wouldn’t take a week in the Waste lightly—not with a monster like that in tow.”

Lia, eavesdropping a little now, shuddered at the thought of that, and inadvertently caught her employer’s eye. He was too deep in his cups to notice she’d been listening, so that was alright—though to be honest, part of her wanted him to shout at her, so she would have an excuse to shout back. “Ah, there y’are, lass,” he hiccupped, giving her an off-kilter grin. “More’a the same, for us all!” He waved his empty mug at her, and did not seem to notice her answering scowl.

“Sir,” she agreed shortly, and stalked back to the bar to get more ale.

The youngest man—at least six years Lia’s junior—gave her a wide, intoxicated leer when she came back with the drinks. “G’mornin’, Missy Lia!” he said, a little to loudly. Lia twitched very slightly. She had no idea what this boy’s name might be, but she did know this gutless pip had no business calling her “Missy.” She decided to leave his ale for last. He did not notice. He giggled at her, instead, though it turned into a hiccup at the end. “Did you see what we found in the—oof!”

Lia wondered if she was supposed to pretend she hadn’t seen the elbow that the oldest man had planted in the younger one’s ribs.

“Thanks for the service, Barmaid Lia,” the old man said, his voice polite and also definitely a dismissal. This time, Lia thought any sober man would probably have seen her answering twitch. “We hope you’ll excuse the boy,” he went on, sending his junior a furious look. “When Young Kalen opens his mouth, all his guts fall out. He didn’t say nothin’ as ought to concern you, Missy.”

Lia set the old man’s drink down in front of him, and happened to tread hard on his foot under the table in the process. He loud squawk the old man made startled another member of the party—by far the largest, though more about the middle than the muscles—out of an impromptu nap on the edge of the table. Old Meyr leaned forward, squinting at her, as though to decide whether she ought to be disciplined.

“How clumsy of me,” Lia said sweetly. Meyr hiccuped. So her employer’s terrible tolerance seemed to save her job again, for better or worse.

Lia rolled her shoulders, and reminded herself that it was more or less this or starving, in Atychia Town.

Still. If any member of this party called her Barmaid again—honestly. It was bad enough when Jasper Run did it, but at least he had a nice—

It was as Lia was finishing this thought that the front door flew open and Jasper Run stormed through it.

----

The door to the Sheep’s Eye was lighter than he remembered, and slammed very loudly against a poorly-placed booth with a loud crack that sounded like it might be permanent.

Jasper found that he did not much care.

Old Meyr, who owned the inn—not, Jasper thought furiously, that he actually had any hand in running the place, these days, that was all Lia, and it should have been her place really—was seated at the center table, a beer clutched at the end of one spindly arm, and the other waving vaguely in the air. From the door, all Jasper could see was his bent, spidery back, and the old man didn’t turn, not at Jasper’s not-very-subtle entrance, and not at the sound of his boots pounding on the floor, either.

“Magician,” Will Price said in a faint, wispy voice from behind him, and held out his thin hand, awkwardly; like he wanted to tug at Jasper’s sleeve, but was afraid to actually touch him. Probably that bore further examination, but for now it also made him very easy to ignore.

“I would like to know,” Jasper said in a thunderous voice, “what exactly is going on in the Square today.”

Atychia was barely a town, and its residents called the dusty cobblestone rectancle between the Sheep’s Eye and the wellhouse the Town Square with a hint of despairing irony. On an ordinary day the Square held occasional stalls run by especially intrepid or lost merchants, some lines of drying laundry, and very little else.

Today, there was a cage in the middle of the square.

It was hard to keep anything clean so close to the Waste. The interior of the cage was so clotted with dust, blood, hair, and feathers that it had been difficult to say, at first, what was huddled in the center of that vast construction of wire and wood. At first, Jasper had assumed the cage contained some sort of criminal, awaiting trial—it seemed a bit barbaric, to keep a man exposed to the wind and dust like that for any length of time, but Atychia was that sort of town. That was before he saw the wings, however.

After he saw the wings, Jasper hadn’t thought of anything at all.

Old Meyr, confronted with a very angry Magician of nearly twice his height and muscle mass, turned in his seat and blinked owlishly. “Eh?”

“The. Square,” Jasper said slowly, through his teeth.

Old Meyr blinked twice more, and then he raised himself up to his full spindly height and said haughtily, “’Tain’t none o’ yer thrice-damned business, Conjurer.”

It was remarkable how easy it was to pull the old man out of his chair.

His scarred palm wrapped around the back of the old man’s skinny neck, Jasper half-dragged the protesting Innkeeper toward the door, the red haze of anger quite thick enough to block out the utterly baffled look on Lia the Barmaid’s face and the uncomfortable (feverish) confusion on Will Price’s.

“Wha—Jasper?” Lia squeaked, hurrying to follow him.

“M-Magician—hey—!” Will Price wheezed, stumbling after her.

Jasper ignored them, and ignored Old Meyr too until he had dragged him out the door and into the square, and then he dropped the old man on his feet in front of the hulking iron frame.

Inside the cage, the demon shifted. A few blood-clotted feathers lifted in the breeze. Jasper caught one, and had time enough to glare at it and see that it seemed to be made of amber and sapphires before it turned to ash in his hands.

Jasper peered into the darkness within the cage, and a pair of golden eyes peered back for a moment. Then the demon threw her great tattered wings over her head, a mess of blood and fire-colored curls.

“What the hell have you done, old man?” Jasper croaked. The sight of the demon’s feather had knocked a good part of the anger out of him. He had been furious. He was now starting to be very slightly afraid.

Staring at the shape in the cage through an almost literal fog of alcohol, the old man swayed slightly, and then turned to glare petulantly up at Jasper.

“It’s mine,” he said, his voice slurred and also a touch defensive. “I found it.”

Jasper, unable to believe what he was hearing, stared at the old man. Old Meyr inched slowly back, away from the cage.

“Bullshit you did,” Jasper said flatly.

He started toward the cage door, Runes in hand, and then the sound of wood scraping against metal pulled him up short. The oldest—and, at the moment, soberest—member of Old Meyr’s party stood in the Inn’s doorway, an elderly but operational crossbow tucked against his broad right shoulder.

“I’d step away from yon caged birdie, an I were you, young Conjurer,” the old man said. His voice was measured, if a touch reluctant, and his fingers looked firm enough on the cross’s trigger. Though he was older than Meyr by ten summers easily, and might have seen seventy summers, he was much less twig-shaped than the Innkeeper, and closer to Jasper’s height, too. Jasper glared at him.

“Furl’n!” Meyr crowed, though the slur in his voice meant the actual pronunciation of his comrad’s name was anyone’s guess. “Bloody good timing, brother. Cap’tal!”

Jasper chose to ignore this. “’Caged birdie,’” he repeated savagely. “Have you idiots got any idea what it is you’ve caught, here?” He gestured wildly at the demon, who shivered, wing feathers rippling.

“’Course we have!” Meyr protested, affronted, and pulled a sheet of parchment from down the front of his grayed tunic.

“Meyr—” Furlan—Furlen? Furlyn?—growled warningly, but Jasper had already snatched the paper out of Meyr’s spindly fingers and held it easily out of the little man’s limited reach.

The emperor, the parchment proclaimed in large, elegant type—and Jasper was surprised to see ink this far into the Waste, let alone print—offers a generous reward for the successful capture of a flying devil carrying the pictured plumage.

Below this someone had painted a delicate wing-feather in shades of iridescent blue and gold, and an address had been noted, in Archae City, miles away across the Waste.

Jasper stared at the parchment. It could have been duplicated by magic, but not in color, on such high quality paper, that would have cost a fortune. No one near Atychia had that kind of money, or access to such specifically skilled labor.

“Well—now you see, young Conjurer,” Furlan-Furlen-Furlyn gumbled, shooting a glare towards Old Meyr, who didn’t seem to notice. “We’ll be takin’ yon birdie down t’Archae with us, when we go. Ye’ll understand—” and here he adjusted his grip on the cross-bow, so it was trained on the center of Jasper’s chest, and set his jaw a bit more firmly—“if we take unkindly to any meddling from you, sir.”

Jasper glanced back at the cage’s wrought-iron lock, and then forward at the crossbow’s iron-tipped bolt. His Runes were beginning to feel warm in his hand, though that may have been his own anger making heat rise in his blood.

It’d be tight, on the optimistic end. But if he could move fast enough—

“Really, boys,” Lia snapped, stepping between Jasper and the old man in a flurry of skirts and apron strings. “Really, now. You ought both to be ashamed of yourselves.”

Jasper blinked. The old man, in the doorway, seemed to do the same.

“Furlen Challis,” Lia scolded, raising a finger in the old man’s direction like an affronted schoolmistress. “You are on the doorstep of the Sheep’s Eye, sir, which puts you on an Inn’s property with a weapon drawn.” Tossing her heavy dark curls, Lia crossed her arms. “The Sheep’s Eye is no quester’s bar, for you to brawl in. Your manners appall me, Sai Challis.”

Furlen Challis’s crossbow lowered slightly, and he scrubbed at the back of his neck like a guilty schoolboy, averting his eyes.

“Eh—that’s so,” he allowed, sounding embarrassed. “Sorry for it, Barmaid, Marm.”

Lia twitched, and Jasper was afflicted with a bizarre desire to laugh, at least until she spun on her heel to land on him instead, dark eyes flashing with offended propriety.

“As for yourself, Jasper Run,” Lia said haughtily, crossing her arms, “I will not have you barging into my Inn—” It was fortunate, probably, that Old Meyr had lapsed into staring dreamily up at the sky and was apparently too engrossed to hear her call the Sheep’s Eye hers—“and dragging people about without so much as a hullo to the staff or an order placed.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. Jasper had to resist the urge to fidget.

“Well,” he tried, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t exactly—that is—”

Ignoring him, Lia clapped her hands once to show that the matter was closed. “Right,” she said, her voice businesslike and pointedly looking at neither Jasper nor Furlen. “I believe we will all of us want a calming drink, then—which we will all of us pay for, like the respectable patrons we are. Yes?” she prompted Jasper, eyebrows raised.

“Eh—aye,” Jasper agreed reluctantly, glaring at Furlen over her shoulder.

“Yes?” Lia repeated, turning to include Furlen in the address.

“Sure enough, Barmaid Lia,” the old man mumbled, and shuffled back into the Sheep’s Eye, clearly happy to retreat.

Jasper watched the old man go, but didn’t move to follow as Old Meyr raised a hand toward his departing compatriot and tripped unsteadily after him with a slurred, “Hold up—Furl’n—how ‘bout a drink—?"

Lia gave Jasper a long look, half guilt and half warning, before she turned and followed her employer back into the Inn, shaking her head.

Jasper looked back at the cage’s lock—heavy wrought iron. Too think to crack easily, and firmly Magic-repellent. He filed this information away for consideration. Now that his anger had settled down to a steady boil in his gut, he remembered (hearing a dead man’s voice in his head, there had to be one of us left) that he had been trying not to draw attention to himself.

For a moment, the demon caught Jasper’s eye, and she looked at him with deep distrust. Her left wing hung at an odd angle from the shoulder joint.

Feeling disgust bubble up in the back of his throat—for Old Meyr and Furlen Challis and himself perhaps most of all—Jasper turned his back on her.

He was about to push open the Inn’s door—and he definitely had put a crack in it, for which he was not sorry—when he saw a vague flash of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye.

Jasper looked down. The boy Will, leaning against the front wall of the Inn, blinked back at him.

“Sorry, boy,” Jasper said. “Did you sit down, or fall?”

He offered the boy a hand up. The boy didn’t take it. He was looking at the cage.

With a little effort, Jasper didn’t follow his gaze. “You want a drink? I surely wouldn’t give you alcohol, but they must have something like water behind the bar. I can—”

“I think,” the boy said slowly, “I am a little confused.”

Jasper blinked at the boy, and then up at the cage, and laughed once, leaning against the wall next to him. “Crythian,” he said bitterly. “I nearly forgot. Have you ever even seen a demon before?”

The boy shook his head. “Never,” he said softly. “I thought—it is a little different than I expected.”

Jasper laughed harshly. The boy winced. “Well, here you are, Mr. Price. A fine specimen of demonkind. And of the way we treat them, too. And if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go now, and get drunk.”

----

When Jasper left him to stalk back into the bar, the boy pulled himself very carefully to his feet, using the outside wall of the Inn for support when he felt his knees were about to buckle.

The cage was big enough to fill almost the whole square. It was a rough frame of stout wood, on huge, thick wooden wheels, with a tangle of loose iron mesh for the sides. Whether from nerves or from fever, the boy could feel his heart pounding in his temples, so hard it seemed the creature in the cage must surely hear it, but he still took a careful barefoot step closer to the cage, leaning forward to see the light filter through in bars and shimmer on the dirty golden feathers within.

He was just growing brave enough to reach out towards the bars when the mass of blood and feathers suddenly lunged up towards him with a cry like a thousand furious crows, and clung to the bars with long-nailed hands and feet, suspended like a giant fire-colored bat and ignoring the sizzle of iron against its flesh.

The boy fell back and landed hard on the ground, too startled even to cry out.

(Inside the Inn, Magician and Barmaid paused in their discussion to cast nervous looks towards the door. Most of Meyr’s party were too drunk to pay the sudden noise much mind, though Furlen Challis did cast a suspicious glance in Jasper Run’s direction.)

“Murderous traitor!” the demon was screeching, reaching a slim arm through the bars to claw at the boy’s face, just out of its reach. “I will see that the Council has bathed in your blood!”

Staring at the split and bloody tips of the demon’s claws, the boy’s brain stopped working so completely that what fell out of his mouth was a blurted, “You—you speak Crythian?”

At the sound of his words, spoken hesitantly in his own tongue, the demon stopped her furious scrabbling at the bars. In the slanted light, he could just see a pair of burnished-gold eyes with narrow, slit pupils examining him closely. After a moment, the demon withdrew her arm.

“…you’re not him,” she said blankly, in perfect Crythian.

The boy blinked once. And then he went shivered badly, cold under the heat of his fever, because of course he knew exactly who she had mistaken him for.

“No,” he said carefully. “I’m Will Price.”

With a loud exhale, the demon retreated back from the cage’s bars. “I care not who you are, dirt-creature,” it said flatly. Now that it was not roaring at him, he could see its form properly. It was shaped like a woman, with matted hair the color of sunset and skin the color of glowing-hot metal. It—she?—looked little older than he was himself, though that meant little, for a demon.

…he had been taught that it meant little, at least.

There was a long silence. The boy, staring into the dark and dirty cage, worried at his lower lip. The demon, flicking distrustful eyes at the boy’s face, pulled her tattered wings closer about herself.

“I confess,” the boy said softly, after a time. “I was not taught your kind could—speak so well.”

“Nor I that yours could be so thin and frail,” the demon snapped, teeth bared. Its teeth were flat and even. No fangs at all.

“Why is it that these men have caged you?” he asked slowly. An idea was starting to form in his head.

The demon leaned forward to look long and hard at his face again, as though trying to gauge his intent in asking. “How shall I know that?” she said coldly. “Does a man like you need a reason to hurt a creature such as me?”

Lips parted, the boy turned those words over in his head for a long minute.

“You are not what I was expecting,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her.

“And you are less even than I had come to expect,” the demon countered, sounding tired. “Though you come bearing a tool for killing, and that is no surprise,” she went on, eyes flicking down to the sword hanging at his hip.

Startled, the boy blinked, then looked down, laying his hand on the glass orb at the sword’s hilt. “I do, don’t I,” he said softly. And then, because of the fever pounding in his head or the thought of his father’s words (they are beasts and worse than beasts) or the Magician’s (and of the way we treat them, too), he made a decision all at once.

“Chorus,” the boy said softly. “Will you help me cause a commotion?”

The demon drew back, startled, when the boy’s long-sword began quite suddenly to laugh.

----

Lia was still staring at Jasper in slack jawed disbelief when the door slid quietly open to admit a small yellow-haired shape, and then closed politely behind him.

Lia had almost flatly refused to believe it when the Magician claimed to have found an injured, teen-aged Crythian wandering alone in the Waste, and now she could only stare, from the seat she had taken across from Jasper, at this thin white ghost of a boy, now pausing inside the door to get his bearings. Lia would give him sixteen summers, at a guess, surely no more than that, and from his sunken hollow cheekbones and narrow bony wrists she would guess he had not even in a week, or slept in half again as long.

“That boy was traveling alone in the Waste?” she hissed at Jasper. “I don’t believe it.”

Jasper shrugged. “I wouldn’t either, yet there he stands, and quite alone, you’ll find.” A shadow crossed his face as he said those last few words, but it was gone against before Lia could really wonder what it meant.

Lia had ten immediate follow-up questions, but then the boy seemed to spot Jasper, and picked his careful—barefoot?—way across the bar to the booth she and the Magician were sharing. “Magician Run,” he said softly, in very good Galdrean, “I wonder if—oh.” At the sight of Lia, he pulled up short.

“Young Master Pryce,” Jasper said, waving a hand between boy and waitress. “May I introduce Miss Lia Taplin, finest Barmaid in Atychia Town.”

Lia opened her mouth to say that this was damning with faint praise if ever she had heard it, but then the boy smiled at her, and she forgot what she was saying.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Taplin,” the boy said, and bowed over her outstretched hand, his free hand over his heard. His eyes were bright blue, ringed with thick brown lashes, and his smile was white and straight and perfect, and he was older than she’d thought—nineteen summers, surely, or twenty even. For a moment she was certain he would press a kiss to the back of her hand, and almost as certain she would let him.

Lia took a moment to recover, and thus didn’t notice Jasper Run start and stare at the boy like he had grown a second head.

“Uh,” Lia said stupidly, feeling herself flush deeply. “Yes. It’s very nice to meet you—Sai Price.”

“Please,” the boy said, in a voice that was slightly scratchy on the surface and velvet underneath, “just Will is fine. I was thinking—ah—” He staggered very slightly, and went even paler, which Lia would have thought impossible. “Perhaps I should sit down,” he said delicately, turning his dazzling smile on Jasper, who scooted over to make room, with an odd look on his face. “I am thinking,” the boy said in his strange sweet voice, “that while I am very grateful for your hospitality, I should be going on my way, now.”

“Going?” Lia said blankly. “Where?”

The boy blinked once, smile never faltering, then opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Furlen Challis approaching from the center table.

“Here, Magician,” Furlen said, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “Sorry for the… misunderstanding, eh? We’ll be on our way now, and no need for hard feelings between us.”

Will stiffened slightly in his seat.

Jasper openly glared at Furlen, but was in the process of forcing it painfully into a smile when the entire Inn suddenly shook with a roar of snapping wood and breaking metal. Jasper dropped the glass she had been holding. Lia jumped automatically out of the booth. Meyr’s party froze in the act of getting groggily to their feet. Furlen spun towards the door, hand leaping to the crossbow slung over his shoulder. Will Price stared down at the table.

The next minute was a mad rush of bodies towards the door, frantic to see what had made such a terrible sound in the square. Lia blinked, and was alone in the Inn with Jasper Run, who was trapped in his seat by Will Price, who hadn’t moved.

“I wonder, Miss Taplin,” Will Price said politely, “if your Inn might have a back door.”

Jasper attempted to stand up, but Will continued to be firmly in the way. Jasper stared at him, beginning to get the feeling that one of them had made a horrible mistake.

“It’s only,” Will went on, still smiling at Lia, just as if there was not beginning to be a very loud and alarming commotion outside, “that I’m thinking it might be a good idea for me to leave soon and I shouldn’t want to attract to much attention to myself, being a stranger here—”

And here he was cut off by Furlen Challis howling “MAGICIAN!” at the top of his voice. Lia and Jasper both jumped badly. Will Price, tellingly, did not.

“In fact,” he said calmly instead, still not getting to his feet, (Oh, Jasper thought, oh, he can’t stand, can he, oh, wonderful--) “I think it would be prudent to leave immediately, Miss Taplin.”

Lia gaped at him. Jasper watched her wind up to shout, but the boy’s unassailably polite smile seemed to defeat her in some way, and she pointed wordlessly behind the bar, instead.

“Thank you, Lady,” Will said, his voice warm velvet, and then visibly concentrated all his strength into getting to his feet, supporting himself against the table with arms that trembled slightly at the elbows. The effort drained his face past white and into gray. Jasper, whose head was spinning, made no move to steady him.

“Hold on,” Jasper said, “what have you—”

He was cut off by the sharp sound of a crossbow bold embedding itself deeply into the wood immediately above his head. Lia made a sound of wordless protest and was ignored by all parties.

“Not a muscle, Magician,” Furlen Challis growled, clearly out of breath and already reloading the crossbow. Will Price let out a faint huff of hysterical laughter and continued wading toward the bar with his full weight supported on the tables. Jasper scrambled to his feet.

“Hold on,” Jasper protested, “I haven’t done anything this—”

Furlen fired again and Jasper stumbled backwards, just flicking his Runes from his sleeve in time to catch the bolt in a thin sheet of ice summoned from his spilled drink. As the ice smashed at his feet and soaked the toes of his boots he just had time to think But I’m not even drunk yet before he processed that Furlen was legitimately trying to shoot him and yanked Lia to her feet, grabbing his cloak and satchel from the booth with a muttered expletive.

“Why are people shooting inside my inn?” Lia yelled, and Jasper shook his head, ushering her toward the back door.

“Truly, actually not my fault this time,” Jasper said again, towing her along by her sleeve. Furlen roared something behind him about losing gold that he could worry about parsing when no one was shooting at him. Jasper hesitated for a second and then planted a hand in the small of Will Price’s back and shoved him forward. “Fuck, you too, come on—”

Lia’s face softened immediately and she put a supporting arm around Will’s shoulders; Jasper filed Will’s immediate wince away for later analysis to give himself time to spin and spark Furlen’s next incoming crossbow bolt into a burst of flame that sent a harmless but very hot ball of ashes against Jasper’s chest with a faint smack. Jasper swore and slapped the embers out before they could set the wool smoking, and then spun his thumb around his Runes again and cut his free hand sharply through the air in front of him. The Inn began to fill rapidly with smoke.

“What are you doing?” Lia wailed.

“Och, aye, don’t mind me, just trying to make sure no one gets shot,” Jasper snapped over the sound of Furlen’s curses from the direction of the front door. The back door was just visible through the thickening air, and Jasper half-vaulted the bar to yank it open and usher Lia through, towing Will with her. The boy was getting even paler, which was almost impressive and also not what Jasper was going to worry about now.

“What have you done?” Jasper barked, slamming the door behind them and smacking a hand against it; with an effort of concentration he coaxed the long-dead wood of the surrounding wall to grow creakingly in around the doorjamb, which might hold the door against the men currently shouting inside the in for a few minutes, anyway.

Will shrugged Lia’s arm off immediately and attempted to steady himself, without much success. “Either the right thing, or the wrong one,” he said, in a slightly dreamy voice. Jasper’s hand smacked against his own forehead and grabbed a handful of hair of its own accord.

“That doesn’t mean anyth—”

He was cut off by a sudden rush of heat that threatened to throw him against the side of the Inn. Lia flattened herself against the wall, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

The demon from the square landed in front of Will Price in a rush of feathers and smoke.

Her great wings settled around her. The left straightened from its bent angle in a series of stomach-churning cracks and then raised and lowered hard, sending another rush of heat against the Inn, Jasper threw an arm over his face to shield his eyes.

Will Price stared at the demon, swaying slightly, though he didn’t look more than mildly surprised. The sparks dancing along the edges of her great wings reflected in his fever-glassed eyes.

Just when Jasper was certain the Firebird was about to lunge forward and tear the boy to pieces, she jerked a taloned hand to her own feathered throat and pulled free a single plume the color of flame.

“Do not waste this,” she said in a burning voice, holding the feather in front of the boy. His face blank with surprise, Will Price reached out hesitantly to take hold of it.

The force with which she rocketed up into the sky sent Jasper stumbling back and he stared after her, ears ringing.

“What in three hells have you done?” he croaked again, watching the great bird’s sparking wings with an awed heat in his chest. The wood of the Inn smoldered behind him but Lia seemed frozen with near-religious terror and hadn’t noticed.

Will was staring down at the feather in his hand, red at the shaft and burning flame-blue toward the tip.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he said, and smiled.

There was a very loud wooshing sound from the front of the building. Jasper grabbed a handful of Will’s shirts. “Fine—I’ll deal with you later. We’ve got to go.”

[hysteriium]

Karma’s a Bitch; {1}

// Deal With the Devil // 

Steady hands met with the flesh of a tense bicep. An arm you knew by now would never relax despite your genuine reassurances.

With one scarred, blind eye and the other distant, refusing to look at you, it was always difficult to tell if he was in the present moment; aware. Or, if the infamous man was miles away, thinking — perhaps about what he’d do to you now if you messed up.

Though, maybe that was your anxiety talking.

Michael definitely wasn’t the nicest patient, there had been plenty of incidents over the years. Fatal ones. Yet, much to doctor Sartain’s persistence, Michael remained in the facility. It wasn’t ethical, but hey, you needed to get paid and so you tried your best to please everyone. Do your job for your boss, Sartain, and take care of Michael, since you were the only nurse who he allowed near him.

You wouldn’t say Michael trusted you. You figured he was quite unacquainted with the notion, yet you knew that he at least tolerated you. Seeming as you hadn’t been slammed against the wall, your brains splattering and contrasting against the blinding whiteness that coated the entire facility, this was a clear fact. A morbid, gory masterpiece that would almost belong in a museum; its message loud and clear.

With a gentle hum, you wrapped the measuring instrument around his arm. It wasn’t a daily process, but one that had to be performed every so often. It was a strict regulation with patients, especially with precious Michael (as your boss would so kindly emphasise), to ensure each patient was fit and healthy.

As you sat across from him, your gentle humming signified your distance from present-tense, your mind flickering elsewhere — dangerous. As your movements went into automation, you were too dazed to notice Michael slowly moving his head towards you; expression vacant, with no evidence of a human being residing within the flesh. It was only after completing the small task of writing down Michael’s scores when you stopped. Michael’s comparatively larger hand had halted you, your pen falling to the ground in a series of taps. It was a firm grip; you could never envision the man being gentle. It was a hold that signified if you made it difficult, there’d be no hesitation in ending your pathetic, significantly weaker, life.

Steady heartbeats morphed into that of panic, a hammering stampede. Taking in the new bits of information, you looked down at the man sitting before you, his gaze spilling into your own with such intensity it was hard to keep your eyes from saccading away. It had the capacity to turn even the hardest men into stone, like that of the great gorgon, Medusa. A flame lay within those dead eyes, ones that harboured the burning desire to kill.

“M-Michael?” Your voice came out as a pained whimper, and if he hadn’t had any indication you were bat shit terrified before, (which you doubted), he sure as hell knew now.

He could smell fear from a mile away.

His grip tightened at the sound of your small voice, the pullback of his arm forcing you closer to him with your faces mere inches apart. The action forced your eyes shut, and you felt your face involuntarily scrunch up in fear as you waited for impending doom. The atmosphere was suffocating, your body hot and tingling with adrenaline as the laboured breathing of your former patient, and soon to be murderer, triumphed. Its flow tickled the base of your neck, strands of your hair softly swaying against his harsh respire.

When you mustered enough courage to look, with the seconds speedily turning into minutes, you opened one glassy eye, tears pricking at the corners and threatening to spill. You weren’t sure which was more horrifying; getting hurt — and perhaps murdered by Michael — or the absence of pain that virtually seemed impossible to associate with the infamous man.

Then, as unexpected as it was abrupt, his strong hand released you.

Curious beyond articulation as to what the fuck happened, you didn’t need to be assaulted twice to know when to scramble out of there. Speedily you exited. Shaking hands collected your equipment before locking his cell. With no interest to look behind you, into the small window his cell had, you failed to witness his gaze still upon you, remaining that way until you completely vanished from view.

But, although you couldn’t see it, you sure as hell felt it.

——————

It had been days, perhaps a couple of weeks, since the incident and you hadn’t been back to see Michael. Despite your bosses protests and his covert empty threats, he was unable to get you back to your regular routine. Treating regular, less murderous patients was now your daily experience, and to be honest, you were much happier.

Living was currently an attractive state of being to you, so you were trying your best to avoid anything that could potentially endanger that. With Michael being the angel of death, it was obvious you would avoid him at all costs.

As for Michael, ever since the incident, he had been attacking the new nurses sent to him (attacks that hadn’t resulted in deaths, yet), or remained as uncooperative as possible. You’d be on shift, minding your own business until the piercing shrieks and cries of Michael’s next victim filled your ears. After awhile it became routine, and you instantly knew where the source was. You’d often see nurses with bruisings on their body, arms, legs, cuts from where he dug in his nails — and most commonly, bruising around the neck. It was particularly heartbreaking, especially since you had been one of the lucky ones; to put up with Michael for such a long time and to be able to continue on your day without an incident was a luxury. You weren’t entirely sure why that was the case. Either way, it didn’t stop the injured nurses' filthy looks whenever another staff member was assaulted, as if you had something to do with it; as if you had some kind of hold over Michael.

No one could control Michael, he was his own person.

Perhaps the violence was his silent protest to get you to return, you weren’t sure and you didn’t want to know. What you did know, however, was that Michael’s poor behaviour only worked to exacerbate the doctor's desperate pleas to return to Michael. He didn’t want the state to get any ideas, and he wanted to keep Michael in his clutches for as long as he possibly could. It was his primary objective, as he had once so nicely conceptualised. Sartain, someone you’d describe as a borderline madman, was still convinced he’d get groundbreaking research from Michael.

Delusional.

You were in one of the equipment rooms, ready to attend to another patient when Sartain strode in, his long lab coat floating in behind him. He made his way to you in long strides, eyes hard and focused with determination, peering into your own like an owl on cocaine.

Without even hearing him speak, you knew what this was about.

“No—“

“Hear me out, (Y/n)!”

“I’m not doing it—“

“He’s attacked another one miss (L/n). They’re transporting him in a few days and I need to know this won’t end up in failure. I need you there.”

You froze, biting your lip in thought, the bitter, metallic taste of blood only seemed fitting as you crossed your arms, contemplating the pros and cons.

The doctor not receiving an answer, interpreted your silence as a small victory, choosing to elaborate.

“He’ll be incredibly secured, chained up and driven in one of our busses. Nothing will go wrong, I can assure you that.”

You definitely needed a chance to think about it. Were you really going to endanger the lives of others just for your own comfort? It was a difficult decision that needed careful thought.

“I’ll be raising your pay, and it’ll be the last time you get to see Michael.”

Nevermind.

“Resorted to bribing now, sir?” You finally spoke up, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He shot you a playful smile, “so I’ll take that as a yes?”

Releasing a sigh, you slowly nod your head, barely believing what you were agreeing too.

“Okay, yes. Only if you’re certain it’s safe.”

“Utterly, and completely.”

As his smirk widened, happy at his win, you couldn’t help but feel like you were making a deal with the devil. A deal you felt you’d totally, and wholey, regret.

If only you knew how right you were.

* 

* 

*

*

* 

Hey guys! This is my first three-shot / miniseries? Idk what to call it lmao. But I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy with how some of it turned out, I hope my characterisation of Michael is somewhat realistic. I don't particularly believe the narrative that he's completely unfeeling and further, incapable of feeling. I certainly do think due to the environment he grew up in (in the sanitarium), he was unable to really express and develop said emotions. With the added mixture of Loomis, and his psychobabble (he really needs his licence revoked), I really don't think that helped him lmao and this obviously added to the myth of 'The Shape'. Although Michael's emotions would be hard to access and even draw out in the first place, I still think it's possible that he'd feel some sort of affections for someone? It'll be very hard though. I also believe if he were to start feeling things for someone, he'd definitely be very confused, and it would lead to a lot of emotional outbursts, particularly anger - rage even - because of how unfamiliar it is; also due to how anger and rage are so "normal" for lack of a better word, he'd try his hardest to regress/revert back to some sense of familiarity. Though like how it is for most, repression of emotions really doesn't work, and this would thereby manifest itself as intense bouts of possessiveness and jealousy. Idk that's just my opinion and my own interpretation, I could be really fucking wrong lmao but I guess that's the beauty of writing. Anyway, Jesus, I'm rambling, I'll be surprised if anyone even reads this lmao. Thank you for reading if you did, I love you and I hope you enjoy!

[jyndor]

Cop-thing-anon here:

(I don't believe in the blue lives matter thing by the way)

I do get where you're coming from. I guess I see the thing about cops and cop AUs differently because the police is different and not as fucked up in my country. The thing about the fanart is just..I think you're reading too much into it. I don't think the artist really focused on the skin colour of Sokka, I mean, it's a kids show. Skin colour was never really mentioned or important in atla. But Sokka's personality is most likely why the artist was inspired to draw him as a "gangster", with azula (the villain) being a cop. It is kind of insensitive to draw that with the events going on, but I think that a lot of people in the fandom take some things way too seriously, for a kids show back in the late 2000's anyway.

hey anon, I say this with love and I am being sincere. I'm gonna need you to rewatch the show if you think skin color didn't matter. and it doesn't matter where you live because there is no part of the world, no culture, that isn't shaped by colonialism. I don't mean to be condescending so please bear with me, I truly believe in educating people as a part of allyship and anti-racism.

Anon, please know that I am not angry or anything but sincere in what I’m about to say. Just bear with me because I know that unlearning shit is difficult and can be painful, but we’ve gotta do it. I do appreciate you wanting to have this conversation at all. And I’m not writing this just for your benefit - this is for anyone who wants to learn about why A) race is a part of ATLA’s narrative and B) why critical analysis of mass media is actually important. So I’m not assuming you don’t know basic things about this stuff, I’m not trying to be condescending.

Now we’re gonna fix colonialism and imperialism XD wee okay here we go.

No matter where you live in the world you have some awareness of skin color. Your understanding of race might be different than mine, in fact it probably is. Race as we know it today is a social construct that stems from many things (and I wrote several hundred words on it but it was too much and too far removed from the point I’m trying to make so I edited all of that out. Yay.)

You don’t usually see imperialism, one of the major themes in Avatar, without colonialism. Imperialism is slightly different than colonialism - you can think of it like the ideology behind the practice of colonialism.* Imperialism can be used to describe expansionism in general - which has been going on since the bronze age lol humans, I stg - but usually when people today refer to colonialism and imperialism they’re talking about imperialism starting in the 17th century.

Now imperialism is not just a European concept. ATLA is set in a world that we know is supposed to be like a combination of different Asian cultures (with some influences from the Americas). And the Fire Nation is clearly influenced by Imperial Japan. So briefly:

Japan had a policy of sakoku (chained or closed country) which kept it mostly isolated (out of concerns that Japan would fall victim to something like the Opium Wars in China, among other things) from the rest of the world for a couple hundred years until the 1850s when a US Naval commander named Matthew Perry (I am not kidding) forced Japan to open its borders for trade to the United States by gunboat diplomacy, an oxymoron if I have ever seen one before.

Japan ended up signing unequal treaties with a lot of Western countries, and this bred xenophobia and hostility in Japan. The Emperor who signed these treaties died of smallpox, and after some internal conflict his son decided try to renegotiate these treaties. The US and European countries were not interested in renegotiating dick but the mission wasn’t unsuccessful because the diplomats A) exchanged some islands with Russia and B) were inspired by western economic policy and society to “modernize” Japan. Japan began industrialization and it converted to a market economy with the help of the US and other western powers.

So over many years, Japan went to war with China, Korea, Russia (and took back some of the land they exchanged with them), and others. From wikipedia:

Using its superior technological advances in naval aviation and its modern doctrines of amphibious and naval warfare, Japan achieved one of the fastest maritime expansions in history. By 1942 Japan had conquered much of East Asia and the Pacific, including the east of China, Hong Kong, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Burma (Myanmar), Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, part of New Guinea and many islands of the Pacific Ocean.

But ATLA is not a Japanese story. The Fire Nation is not Imperial Japan. The Earth Kingdom is not China or Korea, the Air Nomads are not Tibetan monks, and the Water Tribes are not Inuit. The creators definitely drew heavy inspiration from all of these places and others, but ATLA is a story written by American people in the United States for American kids. It is an American story.

And it was created at a time when the United States was victimizing people in Afghanistan and Iraq (and other places) in many similar ways to how the Fire Nation victimized people. In fact, the show starts in the Southern Water Tribe, which represent Inuit people, indigenous people in Alaska, Canada and Greenland, I think it’s safe to assume that the genocide being referenced here is not one by Japan but rather by European colonizers and later by the United States and Canada.

Imperialism is in the show’s DNA. 

And so is racism. In our world they are inherently connected. And visual cues from the show along with things the characters say suggest that we are meant to make the comparison between our world and the ATLA world. Every story has a purpose - it doesn’t have to be political, but for Avatar it is political, it is anti-imperialist.

In this article about how ATLA resonates with us in 2020, Aina Khan of the Guardian interviews Professor Ali A Olomi about using ATLA to teach at Penn State. “One of the things we see with the Fire Nation is the ideological justification for what they’re doing. We are a glorious civilization. We have abundance, we have wealth, we have technological advancement; we need to share it with the rest of the world. That’s almost word for word European colonisation.”

Zuko and Azula both call Katara a peasant. In fact, Azula calls her a dirty peasant. This is one step away from calling her a s*vage I mean come on. While peasant might just be purely classist (lol no) because Zuko and Azula are royalty, um it’s clearly racialized classism because of real life context. There is real history with colonizers calling indigenous people this, dismissing their cultures as primitive and barbaric.

Add into the mix colorism, which is bias against darker skin and privileges fair skin (which is a byproduct of imperialism) and you have clear race shit happening in Avatar.

When I saw that fanart, I was immediately reminded of black lives matter of course, but mainly of the fact that indigenous peoples are also at high risk of being victimized by police. Not just in the US. And how gross it is to depict a colonizer like Azula as an angry cop (representing the state) turning her gun on an indigenous man who is dressed like a gangster which... yike.

Mass media influence everything we do. The messaging we get, our politics, what we want to eat for dinner because we’re hungry and have been writing this stupid essay for three hours LOL. It’s important that people think critically about what they consume. Otherwise you get the goddamn United States with half of our population stanning a racist fraud. You want to know why US Americans are so ignorant? Because our education system sucks, because we don’t have any real media literacy. But apparently the rest of the world has some fucking nerve making fun of Americans** because all of us suck at it. No one is thinking critically about media.

A really terrifying thing about people is our ability to take whatever message we want from stories, even if it is in direct contradiction with the narrative of a story. There’s a movie called American History X which is explicitly anti-fascist, but because it’s a drama and Ed Norton is cut and looks badass and uncucked or whatever LOL, the iconography in that movie is fairly popular with neo-nazis. Yike. This is not at that level of course, this is some random niche fanart for a rare pairing.

For better or for worse, US media and entertainment gets a lot of attention and people around the world eat it up. Maybe you don’t need to know every little detail about US American shit, and I know we tend to dominate media, but black lives matter is not just a 2020 thing. People have known about it for years, since it started. If that fanart was created in 2019, which I think it was, the BLM movement had already existed for six years. If you’re watching an American show like Avatar and you’re making fanart on social media but you don’t know what BLM is in 2019... well educate yourself lmao.

Considering that Black fans have expressed frustration and discomfort in fandoms over and over again, and I am sure indigenous fans have too because fandoms are racist sometimes, it’s important that white fans help make fandoms better. And I am a white fan, and I consider myself an anti-racist. Which means I have to be active about racism when I see it.

btw I found this great essay by @cobra-diamond which you should read if you want more details about the similarities between Japan and the Fire Nation.

* that is very reductive but it’s fine lol

** I am kidding, unless you are english feel free to make fun of americans for non-gun, non-trauma related things pls

[comicteaparty]

June 13th-June 19th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 13th, 2020 to June 19th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

What is your physical and digital workspace like when you’re working on your story?

🌈ERROR404 🌈

LOL it really depends on what stage I'm in of the process - My storyboarding space is at home, as comfortable as I can be, a beer and some food at the ready and pure silence. The cats have to be freshly fed, otherwise I'll be harassed and lose my headspace entirely LOL. I usually work on my story boards digitally, just at a very small scale, with my script/outline on my computer and working on my ipad! The double screen helps a LOT, although i would just print out the script if I had access to a printer, haha. When I'm working on the actual page itself, it's a very different story. I usually just try and work on it in tiny little batches during the day when I'm stuck at home, and usually work around the animals as best i can, lmao. Truthfully, I really prefer to be in a coffee shop when I'm working on finishing pages, it makes me so much more productive than i am in this house with so many things to take care of right in front of me, but, obviously, that's a bit difficult to do these days. ;; I usually reserve food and drink until after I pass a milestone in inking/sketching to help motivate me to keep going for as much as I can before taking a break, and I need some kind of music or video playing in the background to keep myself from being absolutely bored out of my mind. My shading process, since it's in black and white, is very easy and i can finish it in one setting, easy, no matter what I'm working with. I also work digitally for my pages, of course, although I don't need more than my ipad and clip studio for it!

DaeofthePast

freshly fed cats

🌈ERROR404 🌈

They are BEASTS when hungry, the little bastards (love them)

I may only work in peace when they're post-food napping lmao

DaeofthePast

we only have one, but same

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I work almost entirely in the corner of my IKEA couch at home I used to work at a proper desk with a Cintiq, but when I switched to Procreate on an iPad, I migrated to the couch and surrounded myself with a nest of clothes and blankets and books and... here I am, bein' cozy. With terrible posture But when I was between jobs last year, I did rent a little coworking space down the street so I could get out of my pajamas and go get comic stuff done there. It was a godsend. I like drawing at my favorite coffee shop every so often too, but I tend to hide my work while I draw, and there, everyone can look over my shoulder The coworking space had a tall artist desk that was rarely used, so I often grabbed that one. Not cheap, but to stave off cabin fever, heck yes, worth it.

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ahhh I've been really thinking about getting a studio space one of these days I really shouldn't rn, with my finances as they are, but I could REALLY make use of one recently

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I loved the space I used last year. They recently had to close for... current-event reasons... and are going to reopen with all sorts of plexiglass barriers between the desks I feel so bad for them. Good studio spaces are wonderful, I would support them again if I ever was out of a job!

🌈ERROR404 🌈

it's good they've found ways to make it safer, though!

carcarchu

My old workspace was in the basement of my home in canada and it was always perpetually freezing even in the summer and i was frequently visited by spiders so my current workspace is a huge improvement in that regard. I do miss my old ergonomic desk chair though. I'm definitely not the kind of person who can draw in bed or on the couch. I need to be in workmode and having a designated space just for that is necessary for me to get in the right headspace for that.

DaeofthePast

my workspace rn is just my desk with my laptop and my drawing tablet. my laptop is stacked on top of a pile of books so i can see the screen (otherwise my tablet blocks my line of sight). it's kinda simple

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Depends. I have a Cintiq Mobile Studio, so I can draw pretty much every where and sometimes in the oddest position, but most of the time I am on my desk with the cintiq hooked up to a second monitor so I don't have to look down so much.(edited)

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

For Wayfinders: Thumbnails are somewhere cozy and the only physical work. Me and Q sit and plan them out together. The rest of wayfinders are made on Photoshop, and flat colors in clip paint studio. In the world I would love a nice studio place in an office with others. During corentine I have been working from home, and I am not that good at it, being quite the extrovert. Before corentine I was in a artist residency where I worked on Wayfinders which had a workstation and all the programs we could need. It is so nice and me and Q are going to return there when it opens up again!

Miranda

I have an iPad so usually on the couch, cozied up with coffee and pillows and blankets. But sometimes at the table. But usually on the couch like the gremlin I am

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I have a large drafting table, a mini drafting table, and a lapdesk in my papasan when we ink/draw! Toning and letters are all done on the desktop in its own space

Miranda

I need to get a good lap desk. But that sounds like a grand setup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My first time hearing about a lapdesk

Omg I need one

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

They are the best things ever Mine has just the pencil holder !(some come with cup holders and its a waste of space imo)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Wow I like your setup of the drafting tables

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I wanna show pics of them....if im allowed in this chat?

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I hope so, I'm not sure which channel we can post studio photos at? I did see some did before?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Ill post in shop talk since creator babble gets archived

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

my current space is uh.... a bit better than my last one. I used to work on an old writers desk for a decade and I did most of my comic work sitting there cramped up with my desktop taking most of the space. Now I have an L shaped desk where I have my desktop on the shorter end. The longer end it's my pen, pencils, and watercolor stuff. my display tablet occupy the space at times so switching from digital and traditional without worrying about setup hassle is a lot better than what I dealt with before lol.

I'm glad the days I had to curl up and draw with no privacy are long gone now

kayotics

I’ve got a little drafting table where I draw all my comic pages. I’m messy with my pens so they’re kind of strewn about until I start to lose them. Then I put them back. I’m not particularly neat. I spend most of the comic process off the computer, so most of my digital work is just on an iPad where I can sit anywhere. I try to keep good lighting around my drafting table and there’s always loose eraser shavings all over.

Natasha Berlin (Pot of Gold)

I got myself a lil corner desk by the dining table. Not as well-lit as I'd like, but it's decently ergonomic and I started putting posters on my wall Plus I can leave work mindset easily by turning off my computer and forgetting about the dark corner in the dining room XD(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My desk is really sloppy and covered in all kinds of junk. I have a harmonica, a ball of yarn, a bunch of ink bottles, etc on my desk. I have my sketchbook under my tablet and usually a notebook somewhere for writing. My tablet sits to the right of my laptop (on top of sketchbook) while I'm not using it and when I'm using it it goes over my computer keyboard. I sometimes have a glass of water or some food sitting to the lefthand side

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

The only thing I wanna share about my workspace is this

once i spent over three hours looking for that damned pen

never again

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ajkdhfkjs the models for hte magazine im crying

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh my God

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

mad giggling

Deo101 [Millennium]

youre gonna manage to lose the string

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

omg

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i know in my heart deo is right but still i hope

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

You should weld a metal chain to it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Watch me lose the whole tablet

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh nooo

I believe in you!

TaliePlume

My workspace is a black table with a white, yellow, blue and green tablecloth with 3 black chairs. It's next to the kitchen. On it, is my laptop and the left side is my clipboard, 3 blue folders full of writing. Then above it, is 3 sketchbooks and another blue folder from a class that I took in community college.

June 16, 2020

sagaholmgaard

I have one long desk at almost three meters. On the left side is all my coffee and tea supplies, in the middle is my work space and on the right is my dining table xD I get everything done from there, despite having a mobilestudio so I COULD sit anywhere and work, lol. It's a blessing during holiday seasons to be able to bring it everywhere, but at some I like my designated working space. Although I am moving in a few weeks, so who knows what my new workspace will be

Moral_Gutpunch

My workspace is anywhere I can draw or write. It's more of a "Will I be interrupted over something petty or stupid" issue than space. Not that I don't want more space.

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

My workspace is a big, broken corner desk I managed to lug out of an old apartment when it was gonna be trashed. Before then, I'd just draw in bed. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure the folding chair I sit at is a similar affair. It's got a Dollar General throw pillow on it so I can at least say I'm trying to save my back. The top of the desk is a mess of mostly old bottles and cans, pencils, incense ash, and my old tarot deck. I love this setup dearly. This is the first time I've ever had my own desk space, much less a space I can decorate or leave as messy as I want. Got my own art up on the walls with sticky tack and all! Also the cat's scratching post is directly behind me, because we've learned the cat won't use it unless it's as in the way as possible. What can ya do, lol.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh cats...

Desnik

I got spoiled with an adjustable desk. It is six feet long, and has a whiteboard top for noodling with dry erase markers

my main computer is set up on an adjustable stand so it floats over the desk, and then I have my cintiq, which we tried to mount on a similar stand but then it was just too heavy

I keep my dice collection nearby because fidgeting helps think things through sometimes

and rolling to make odd decisions never hurts

lately during the quarantine I've been sharing the office with my spouse so we've had to establish rules over when it's okay to bug each other(edited)

oh yeah and we also have a whiteboard installed in the office, and it rules!(edited)

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

Mine is pretty simple: I have a laptop that's long stopped being portable and is now mostly just sitting at my desk at all times and a 19 inch Ugee as my display. I usually keep a lot of stuff on top of my desk, but it's mostly just a mess because I have been using it for work too for a while now

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I suppose I'll talk about my setup too :) My main setup is where I do digital art. I share an office with my SO, so we both have workspaces on opposite walls from each other. I work on a corner desk that holds my beefy computer, two monitors, and a Huion Kamvas GT-191. That's where I draw my comic and pretty much everything else done digitally. Ngl, it's a mess right now. I have comic notes and location floor plans in sketchbooks and DnD character sheets spread out all over the surface, and random pens and sticky notes. In the corner of the room, we have a nice large-format printer where I produce prints for conventions. I actually sketch my pages on an iPad pro in Procreate, so during the sketch phase, sometimes I'll just bundle up on my couch and do it, or before quarantine, sometimes I'd sketch on the go. My other workspace (which hasn't gotten much love as of late tbh) is a drafting table in the corner of our living room. I keep a tabletop easel on it and my Copic markers, as well as whatever I'm working on at the moment. (RN it's some ink washes.) The drawers hold all my ink, pencils, erasers, etc. Next to the drafting table is where I keep all my large charcoal, graphite, and oil pastel drawings (mostly school projects), and my large paintings. Other than that, I have a nifty little cart where I keep painting supplies :) I will say, this setup is by far an enormous improvement from my previous setups.

[avidraws]

Love yourself challenge

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favourite works you  created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc. ) and link them below   to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread  the love and link each other to awesome works! I was tagged by @kagrenacs , thank you so much!!!

1. this scene from my novella / april 2020 / i really like this piece because drawing more than one character, especially in a scene together, is something i rarely do so i’m always happy when it turns out well! i also got more experimental with the foreground and i’m really happy with how the glass and the shading/lighting turned out

2. winston the reefback / march 2020 / i like this one because it was done on wood and coated in resin, both of which are new mediums for me to work with. in particular i’m very happy with the glow effect and the blue undersides

3. white chain hell yeah / december 2019 / i just like stipple shading a lot and i feel like it worked well with this

4. ares / may 2020 / i just think her face turned out really well! i like all the little details i added to her face like the scars, moles, and freckles

5. lillian / may 2020 / i know this one’s literally brand new but i also dont really care because i like it. i really like how her hair turned out and also her lips because drawing them at that angle was kinda difficult for me but i think i pulled it off! i also like her eyes in this one :)

i dont have much from 2019 but i guess that’s because as i get better i kinda stop liking my art from earlier lmao

i don’t really follow enough people who do art for me to tag so i’ll just say? anyone who wants can do this ^^

[flameontheotherside]

My Own Ascension & The End

It’s my understanding that everyone's is different. I don’t take the lists people make seriously. They do have SOME merit but not real particular order. It’s kind of a waste of time to worry about it IMO.

I’ve always been kind of intuitive like from the time I was aware. Seen and talked to dead people and see deceased animals like my mom’s dead dog. That was the last time I think I saw plain as day. Seeing them creeps me out. It still creeps me out and I DON’T want it back. God can keep it. Nuh-uh, no thanks, bye!

My skepticism change over time.

I’ve spoken to psychics kind of obsessed with why I felt the need to find this “person” and why did it feel urgency. The urgency had gone away when Erik died. It was later that everything each psychic said to me was pretty true from meeting him by a body of water (in my dreams he was associated with water), that I had some kind of connection with some kind of “love sector” (Yeah WTF is right), I specifically asked about this person who I called my “long-distance boyfriend”.  That the one I was looking for was going to leave and there was nothing that could be done about it. This was around the summer right before his death. I crawled into my closet and cried my eyes out. I just knew it was him. That I also failed to find him. That my life was over and I literally felt like dying. What was I living for? Like what’s the point?

After his death I felt my life was over.

The urgency I felt to find him had gone away. Since I just turned 20, I’d been sneaking alcohol and getting shitfaced at karaoke bars and house parties. I just wanted to forget about him! I covered up my pain with wise-cracks, un-serious relationships, being a drama queen, doing things I should have gotten arrested for, and getting high. I didn’t care if I lived. Even while medicated, I just didn’t care. I picked up a few “boyfriends” and I felt nothing. I only did it because I was starting to see my friends dwindle away one by one with families of their own. So to forget about the pain, I tried to have serious relationships. I became in denial that Erik was dead. Like the clock had long since stopped ticking. I became a wreaking time ball. I realized these men were just mistakes. I didn’t really love him because somehow I loved that thing which followed me around and I did feel him with me for real. I just was afraid to find out. 

My experience didn’t begin to accelerate until Erik died. 

I remember laying down and being freaked out seeing my chakras open up. I felt and saw each one. I wasn’t very educated on chakras. When it became too much, I ran out of my room like a bat out of hell or I wasn't really educated any of the stuff. But I knew a little. Since then I had repetitive dreams seeing him exactly as he was. Again, only I didn’t know it was him until much later. The same dream of being at some kind of pool party, beach, lake or whatever. I was with friends I never seen before I only found out where my friends from “home”. It was always fun but sometimes the water was murky, shallow or deep. It’s symbolism on my spirituality. I was teetering on and off “the path” since the dreams because. The water had much to do with where I was in life. If I was miserable, it was shallow and murky, murky, or just shallow...You get the idea. The water got deeper I got close to meeting Erik. I remember being told to get in a few times. I also remember when I was about 12-13 I was afraid of deep water because I almost drowned. But I had a dream that an Angel had been with me at a friends house. I was instructed to just jump and I did. Since I survived I loved deep diving. Fun as shit. Not sure if it has much to do with it. I’m hearing a no but I’m including it anyway.

Lemme give you the process...

Around ‘12-ish I bought a pendulum with the idea of using it like I do now. Things took a turn for the worst soon after I bought it. It broke and I didn’t have time or energy to try it anyway. Not until a couple years later at a better time in my life. My apartments were haunted and that’s when I got the sense someone was following but it wasn’t bothersome. Most of the time it was comforting. I did feel him around at the home I grew up in but it wasn’t as prevalent. The dreams were still happening. In ‘13-ish I had the dream I wrote about visiting home in The Realms and Erik bombarded me about my spiritual journey and how I didn’t want anything to do with it. It’s still vivid in my mind like a memory. I really fought over how I didn’t want to incarnate. This was as my higher-self. I looked different and felt different. Now I do see her as my higher self the same as in the dream. Trippy.

Fast forward to ‘16...

Times were hard. I lost my job and the money I was making. It wasn’t really a good job anyway. I realize while on my medications, I was able to connect better. As in my intuition was better understood because they kept me calm and centered. But that wasn’t realized until I was back on meds and able to look back at the times I was medication. I also realized that if my “abilities” to be intuitive went away while off my meds, it might be alarming. But it was impossible to sit still or concentrate long enough to give a shit off of them! So anyway, shortly before I got on my meds I had a dream about Erik. But I started my meds again and noticed the dreams coming it more and more. 

Early ‘17 I asked God to have my abilities back feeling that there was something I needed to do. Like I have a real purpose and it had something to do with my abilities that have taken a temporary backseat. Did some researching to find out what I can do to have my abilities back and got back in to reading my cards regularly. I saw a movie I’ve seen so many times basically about TFs (In Your Eyes) and thought how cool it would be. Ironically it would my experience with Erik in some kind of way but generally the same. Only he’s dead...

It got intense in spring/Summer ‘17.

Over an argument with my ex, he got me baker-acted. I didn’t know Erik was my TF yet. I remember how cool it would be to talk to him while in there. Two years later, this year, while in the hospital I learned I really could talk to him without my pendulum. It’s kind of cute I made a pendulum board “On The Go!” LMAO by drawing one and taking a picture of it so that in the case I can’t concentrate, I can whip out my penny and dangle that shit above my phone. Just for some clarification. I don’t do it all the time. It’s just sometimes I’m not too confident with discernment without my board and I’m not allowed back in the shelter dorms until 4pm *rolls eyes*. 

Okay, we are getting side-tracked!

Learning a skill.

At first, I was watching a lot of paranormal shit and depressed finally tough enough to look for proof as to why I was having this “thing” following me. No matter how comforting it was, it did cause somethings to happen around no matter where I lived and of course only me and maaaaaaybe a few witnessed it. Annoying. I collected pendulums from Ebay and wore them just for shits and giggles. Mostly shits. Ew that’s gross. Anyway so I watched some paranormal shit and remembered,

Hey, I still have my pendulums and a pile of crystals hanging around the “alter” in the headboard behind the mattress!...And a chain!

Reminds me of that Fleetwood Mac song. Kind of accurate. After firing up some sage in my condo --Really! The damn thing nearly caught fire and I’m sure with winds open I was some kind of witch which at the time didn’t necessarily believe in. Pagans and Wiccans were bullshit to me. Even to some level psychics too! How ironic that NOW I happen to be one of those nut-jobs. Go figure. I did my opening and closing rituals to make sure “the door” was closed. I ALWAYS held the intention to be speaking with Erik and much later my grandmother and God would be an important role.

We continued as above pretty much for a while. Using my pendulum was easier, I was able to predict the next letter, then the next word. We really played tug-o-war. I tried to pull the penny to a different letter and he would move it to spell, “Stop doing that!”. LMFAO it was HILARIOUS!!!!! But that’s how I really knew for sure for sure this was for real for real!

Learning about “home”.

It was eye-opening because I remembered the dream I had years ago about returning home. Erik bombarded me with the task about doing what I came to earth to do. Something about his role as well. It didn't know Erik at the time but intuitively I knew that I knew him. There was a familiar-ness . The same I got from in him; the beach and pool parties. In the realms are pools. What I call pools of mana. In video games especially in MMOs there is Mana used to boost up your Magic (sometimes spirit or intellect) Points or MP. 

Out of the blue he called me by a different name, “Vanessa”. Then I remembered asking him what my spirit name was a while back. He had told me “nessa”. To me it sounded like Nestle Tollhouse or some shit like I wasn’t really ready for. Well I was kind of shocked because I told him to call her butt-uh (inside joke) so I put both together and asked about her or my role is back home. Turns out I’m part of some counseling group from the realm of Love. OOOOOoooOOoooooo! Oh my my my! lmao So any way I had not only my past lives to pound out, but also I needed to find out more about the realms and my role as what I call a “Galactic Guardian” or Starseed (see tag below)

Anyway, So we continued the healing process starting with our past lives. We had three of them and we literally looked at all three and healed them. It’s like going to the therapist and laying down and shit. Only because I actually go in to hypnotic state and see these events happening. We pick apart all of the difficult situations in each relationship as bother and sister, husband and wife, and gay lovers. *In Kevin Hart voice* Bing bang boom. Very intense all together. Very much like therapy. Erik goes all sort of sarcastically, 

“...And how does that make you feel?” 

With a notepad in one hand and a pen in another!  He always finds a way to crack me up. He’s my own personal comic relief. Sometimes it’s funny and sometimes he just goes to far. Well so do I. Guess it’s some sort of “karma” everyone talks about. *rolls eyes* Whatever.

2018 is all kind of a blurr and I met “God”

Things really didn’t kickoff until summer/fall. Now, I was at a point I wasn’t using my note pad anymore to keep track of our conversations. They were sort of stored in this crazy blob in my unsightly skull. We were still covering our past lives and when it ended, it was time to meet “God”. It really happened when I wanted to know that oracle cards Doreen Virtue had to add to my collection. I only found out she turned away from this kind of spiritual stuff toward (for lack of a better term in my ignorance) being a “Jesus Freak” and there’s absolutely nothing with it. Being that I looked up to her, it brought me back down to earth. In-spite of the safely precautions and measures before each session, was I consorting with demons? I’m I wrong? Is Erik a Demon? I started to feel my chest tighten and it was getting harder to breathe. I felt like I was going to have a heat attack and immediately closed the Chrome window starting at me dead in the face. 

I’ve met Angels Raphael and Micheal..Oh and my Guardian Angel, Josana. Both Archangels are just described. Micheal (means God-like) is a lot like but God “LITE”. A watered down level of God (Sorry Mike)! Raphael is like a physician you see for your check ups. He gives me dietary advice and encourages me to keep my health. Literally while having a panic attack, he measured my heart-rate and assured me that there was nothing wrong. It’s like Raph gives me the veggies and Mike leans over behind me making sure I eat everything on my plate. They are no different than getting their help or advice through angel oracle cards made by Doreen Virtue. It’s funny because i can recall a oracle card that almost matches what they really say to me. Creepy right?

“Yes this is your heavenly father, Jehova.”

OK. Everyone has a name for “God” because of my religious background growing up as a Jehova’s Whitness. Everyone has their own idea or name for “source”. Meeting God wasn’t on the top of my list because I was afraid. I had not been a “good christian” and I’ve fell off the path long ago. In my selfish mind I thought if there was a God I wouldn’t suffer the way I have my whole life. I’ve been through what everyone goes through. But in my mind, my life was enough to make some people want to die. Erik found how much I suffered realizing how the way he left was trivial. If it had to be between us to be put out of their misery, it should have been ME! But I couldn’t no matter how much pain I was in, I couldn't do it. I was afraid of going to Hell. Even though I didn’t really believe in God I always thought with my luck, God or not, my ass is going to burn forever in fire and brimstone. Then out of curiosity i wanted to know demons too. If Angels and benevolents exist there must be demons. Well I did meet them. If you remember, I’ve met these assholes and sent them away. Now that I know the difference I feel free-er and well educated.

God was right there IN MY FUCKING CONDO...

Immediately I was scared as shit like that moment you know you’ve done something back and you are hiding in the closet, except I was basically frozen on my futon. It felt like that. God is very much like Fem and Masc energy together so obviously this means he doesn’t have a Twin Flame. So he can be that honest-god (Hahahah) honest father that tell you like it is without sugar-coating it. I mean he literally in my hissy-fit over something stupid, he said I was, “Acting like a child and it’s time I have patience or I can forget about the things he’s got in store for me.” By the way he really did come through! There were moments I asked for things and they happened! A new bag, art supplies, new pillow, a hat. Some I got EXACTLY how I wanted them! I’ll never forget it. Law of Attraction IS REAL and it’s like God gives it to you like Oprah gives out prizes! 

God forgave me of course and basically I have a good heart. It’s apparent to him how honest I was. He assured me everything leading up to then was genuine. He encouraged me to re-read the bible as much as I can. I’ve got a children's version of it over and over. The book of Enoch, Ester --both not in the bible, and Job are my faves. For some reason that version is the best way I can understand especially with the pictures. I hate when Christians tell he how I need to read the bible. Like leave me alone. At least I’m reading or listening to it. Seriously sometimes I can’t have conversations without someone taking out their bible and tell me how to read it. When I say I really can’t just sit there all day trying to read AND interpret it, I’m doing so the best way I can. It means I can’t do it. I do it in my own way and that’s all that matters to God. I understand what I understand and HOW I understand it. Like the documentaries about the bible and it’s archaeological proof that events really happened. The great food is a big one. That was the one documentary that got me thinking twice about being an Atheist. Now, I consider myself a Gnostic Theist considering everything I have learned about The Realms (not exactly spirit realms) and where I and SOME of my friends are from. Otherwise I’d have to be Gnostic.

As my pendulum swung, so did my head. 

In every other word I was able to “hear” them. He would let me know by going “ding!”. It was alarming (no pun intended) to figure out all of a sudden I knew what he was say as every other word kind of appeared in my head. I remembered this was part of my own ascension. We had merged and everything was happening so fast. So by the end of ‘18 I was literally beginning to hear him just by listening to the frequency of 110hz playing in my speakers. Then I started to hear him when there ever was a steady beat like in footsteps, the sound of rain, when I was washing a plate, every sylable was like:

It’s--Oh--Kay--I--M--Not--Go--ing--to--hur--t--you!

I was talking to myself and I heard him! I freaked out. As in I really thought I was going insane. It didn’t want it. I kept saying to him that I wasn’t ready! I got over my fear and before you know it, I’m having conversations with him while watching a Netflix and YouTube! It was like I had him in my headset. We had the kind of long-distance relationship I seeked before he died. Once, I forgot he was dead. When it sunk in again, It had me by the ovaries and I dare say I fell apart because I wished he was alive. By ‘19 without my pendulum I can hear him in my right ear. When he’s yelling, the sound carries over to my left side. It really feels like someone is screaming in your ear in a concert hall. You can imagine the kind of psycho-happy he was when I could finally hear him! We even sing together!

But then I couldn’t get him to STFU! At first it was creepy, then cool, then I’m being tested on my ability to shut him off! Since we merged and God married us, everything was so fast it was hard to keep up. So overwhelmed, God and my Granny would visit to encourage me to move forward and that I’m not doing anything wrong. Through the hard times happening between Vince and I they stood by me always. Erik and I communicate as though time wasn’t even a thing. We are two-peas-in-a-pod! He’s my Twin Flame, Spirit Guide, best friend and my “spirit spouse”. 

Erik said that in my ascension the last step is being able to see him.

 I long since said I didn’t want to. It was hard and painful (That’s what she said!) to know he’s dead. Well he forced me to by sending in dude that kind of resembled him up until we got to Dean Winchester. I was like:

“Ummmm, errrrrr, no, sorry but no way man. You have to be joking. You are a far cry from him. I just don’t see it!”

So of course he wouldn’t shut up because of course he was going to annoy me AGAIN by embarrassing myself around dudes. Oh god I’ll never really forget the first time I nearly died. I wasn’t ready. I looked like I had just crawled out of bed! Why of why hadn’t I been given notice. My third-eye would pop-off when he was getting my attention. Sure enough I look up and hide behind Vince gasping for air. Not quite a dopple-ganger but good enough to freak me out. He wanted me to make that correction as he’s kind of hovering over my shoulder as he always does.

Anyway *rolls eyes* So i watched a few to find, wow I guess he’s right especial the parts he loves his car, music like Metallica, ACDC, ect...Oh yeah and how he thinks he’s “adorable”. Well I don’t think he’s adorable....I’M ADORABLE, BITCH! There can only be MEEEEEE! But he makes a point there. Being we are Twin Flames that makes us both adorable. Sure, whatevs. I learned to gather up my ovaries and said, “fuck it”, I’ve seen and heard what he wanted me to and admitted yeah, sure, I give up, he wins. As always he gets what he wants. He’s totally salty I said that. No, he’s not a dick. He’s a pansy. He’s threatening to hit me with a wrench. Too bad he can’t do it for real but then again I can’t really bonk him on the head either. I get more satisfaction with physical contact...Oh god, ”That’s what she said!”. He’s a slick dick all talk and no action. 

I really feel like this hole experience makes a good story and a good lesson in  persistence, patience, and spiritual growth. It’s surprising to me that like on all “hobbies” I’m able to follow through on this journey as long as I have. The things that kept me doing this is the love and support from my friends here, Erik, Granny and God. Literally I asked for this and it’s like “Be careful of what you ask for” kind of thing except Twin Flames wasn’t in my vocabulary. The dreams and incidences that occurred leading me to him all were for a reason no matter how painful and torturous they were. I’ve never cried so much but I’ve never healed so much. This is like spiritual boot camp. My guides break my down to lift me up. I’m coming out of this process a stronger than before. I have to really thank my guides for all the things they put me through.

My own kind of ascension might be over now that I can see, hear, and even feel Erik. At least what he called our ascension process. It is to my understanding like our own individual spiritual journey, our own ascension process is different too. This is not a one size fits all gig. There is no right or wrong way. To bark around with, no this is this or that is that ( I’m guilty of it too...) is kind of silly if we are all individual and unique being on earth! It feel cool but as I’ve said before, just because this processed ended doesn’t mean our story or whatever we have is over. We both still have much to discover and share in our day to day life.

For those who have followed me through this,

Again, Thank you all!

[panda-noosh]

wip prep tag

rules: answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

FIRST LOOK

1. describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch).

(give me strength i can never do this) young girl can’t seem to find a way to tell her family that she does not want to follow the path they have set out for her, until she meets a young boy who is determined to help her live the life she wants. 

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

at the moment, it’s a single book. but there is definitely potential for it to go on into little sequel novellas if i’m not tired of the story yet. 

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

bruised knuckles. textbooks. late nights spent overthinking. hearing birds chirp outside your window, bringing you back to reality as you realise you haven’t yet slept. cats. broken families. 

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

the relationship of Julian and Emma in Lady Midnight etc by Cassandra Clare really got me in the mood for writing for Angels Camouflage, though the stories are absolutely nothing alike. 

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel.

these are from my characters pinterest board, so they’re more about the characters than the story - but you can still get a pretty good idea of what i’m tryna get across.

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

Jaime Bardow (yes i changed the spelling of her name), a young girl who is at that point in life where she thinks she needs to have everything sorted, but she soon comes to realise that she does not, in fact, have everything sorted. 

7. Who is their closest ally?

her best friend and ex-girlfriend Lenna! Jaime and Lenna have such a pure friendship, and i’m so excited to explore it and how they help balance each other out. 

8. Who is their enemy?

probably Leo, even though she actually kind of loves him?? like, he causes her so much trouble and puts her through so much stress sometimes, but she still cares for him a whole lot. she kind of believes that she has to care for him, since they’re siblings. 

9. What do they want more than anything?

freedom to do what she wants. a life of her own. a chance to prove to others that she isn’t just the second-coming of her older brother, but her own person with her own hobbies and skills. 

10. Why can’t they have it?

she’s a bit of an anxious mess tbh. her parents have had her entire life planned out for her from the moment she was born, and the idea of turning around and telling them that she doesn’t actually want to do any of what they have set out for her is so nerve wracking that she just plans on holding it off for as long as possible. she doesn’t want to disappoint people, or make people angry, even if it means putting herself through stress and heartbreak first. 

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

that she won’t be good enough on her own. she’s been raised in the shadow of her older brother, has been raised being known as “Leo’s little sister!” it’s all she’s ever known, and so she truly believes that she will simply fall apart without her brother there to keep her together. 

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

she’s around 5′5 (my short lil bean) with short, wavy chestnut coloured hair. she has freckles across her nose and steel grey eyes. she always has a slightly reserved and awkward way to how she stands; her hands folded in front of her, her eyes cast to the floor, her shoulders a little bit stiff as if half expecting someone to come up behind her and tackle her. 

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

100% her internal conflict stems from her fear of being alone and her need to be independent; it’s a difficult situation to get out of. she’s so afraid of going out into the world and doing things on her own (the things she actually wants to do) but the idea of staying chained to her parents plan for her life drives her insane. she really doesn’t know what to do. 

14. What is the external conflict?

there’s a fair bit of external conflict between Jaime and a number of people in her life. Leo is the most prominent one, considering his disapproval for Jaime doing literally anything on her own terms - he doesn’t like her relationship, he doesn’t like that she often puts school before her business with him, he doesn’t like that she’s quiet instead of outgoing. but there is also conflict between Jaime and her parents, though this is a lot more subtle and a little bit one sided?? her parents are kind of oblivious to the things Jaime wants to do, since she’s too afraid of letting them down, meaning they’re upsetting her without even really knowing. 

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?  

well, considering her worst fear is her family turning on her, probably that. even though her family have been lowkey toxic to her ever since her grandmother passed away and she was forced to move back in with them, she still loves them?? her parents are so oblivious to what they’re doing to her mental state and she knows she needs to just speak up and tell them what’s bothering her, but she can’t. the idea of her finally turning around and telling them the truth, only for them to be disappointed and unsupportive is the worst thing that could happen to her, since that’s what she’s been trying to avoid for so long. 

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

i can’t really say any without giving away spoilers?? let’s just say that Callum (the other protagonist) isn’t exactly what you’d expect, and there’s some moments where Jaime and Callum have to make some very gut wrenching decisions. 

17. Do you know how it ends?

KIND OF. 

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?  

i know it sounds super cheesy and Young Adult but, the main theme is definitely love and the power that that kind of emotion can hold. 

19. What is a recurring symbol?  

cats??? it makes sense, i promise. 

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

London!! so, very crowded and pretty at night. we spend a lot of times in the estates, so there’s graffiti everywhere and people in tracksuits, and McDonalds bags thrown everywhere. but overall, it’s very nice. 

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

so many. so, so many. i don’t know where any of them are going to go, but we’ll figure it out. 

22. What excited you about this story?  

the relationship. i love writing relationships. romance is my all time favourite part of a book to write, and the ideas i have for Callum and Jaime just give me butterflies because i love thinking of them two just being happy together and living their best life. 

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  

i sit down, open the word document, stress and cry over the first sentence for a good ten minutes. if those ten minutes pass and i’m able to move on, i can write for hours. but it’s not very rare that those ten minutes pass and i’ve still got zero words. i often just give up and leave it until later lmao.

i’m a MESS when it comes to starting a writing session. unless i’ve left off in the middle of a damn sentence, i will spend a good hour just trying to figure out where to begin. 

i’m tagging @tayluinwrites because i’m thirsty for more information on her WIP thank you very much. 

[miyaio]

lucina and severa for the character writing meme

just did lucina, so now here’s a veritable novel abt why severa is quite possibly my favorite character ever to write.  a couple of people requested her, which i have to admit is flattering www  i’d make an oc w/some of sev’s traits just so i could write bitter petty snarky lonely girls forever, but they’d all pale in comparison to the genuine article.

- her voice and speech patterns: tbh this edges on the defining trait for me when i have severa as a narrator.  she has a very unique and colorful way of speaking, imo.  her snark isn’t all stock phrases--she can actually get rather creative with it.  some of the lines severa drops in her a support with her dad are absolutely choice, and her tongue is at its sharpest not when turned against others, but when turned against herself.  severa’s language often drips with self-deprecation, but in a defensive way, as if she’s daring the other person to agree with the insults she’s heaping on herself with sarcasm that’s not 100% genuine.  not to go on a tangent about the similarities between severa and inigo, but the two of them do engage in similar selective self-flagellation, where they put themselves down because they feel they deserve it, yet they never own up to themselves and address the root of what’s actually causing their problems.  severa is just much more overt about it than inigo.

that said, she does really earn her title as a member of the snark and bark society.  severa has such a snappy voice, with the slightest twinge of anachronistic “valley girl” slang coupled with a propensity for sharp turns of phrase she sometimes finds herself regretting.  contrary to the inane tsundere stereotype (if i never hear someone call severa a tsundere again, it’ll still be too soon), severa is quite good at putting her feelings into words--those feelings just often tend to be her initial lashes of annoyance.  the fun thing about writing severa is teasing apart those layers, from the prickliness, to the subsequent regret over being so prickly, to the defensiveness or self-deprecation, depending on whether or not she does decide she was justified in the harshness of her initial statement.  her thoughts and speech alike ultimately crackle with life, plus an expressiveness that ranges the full gamut of emotions and situations.  severa will stick her oar in on just about anything, so there are always new contexts in which to color her narration with severa-isms.

- her disingenuousness/abrasiveness: piggybacking off of some of the elements from the previous item, severa jumps the tsundere shark pretty cleanly and lands squarely in the territory of genuine abrasiveness.  severa’s default mode of interaction with others is not cute, and is seldom portrayed as such.  it damages her relationships, causes her to put her foot in her mouth, and then she has to wrestle all the harder with her own bruised brand of pride in order to own up to her mistakes.  the act of owning up to her mistakes is, in and of itself, a big struggle for severa.  she would rather stagnate and wallow in self-deprecation than take that jump to try and address the stubborn root of her own bitterness.  i’d say this actually gets worse in fef, rather than better like her out-of-nowhere competitiveness gimmick suggests, but to be frank, selena and odin read like bad fanfiction versions of severa and owain about 95% of the time.  i don’t really consider a lot of her fef self to be genuine char dev the way i would for inigo -> laslow--if anything, she’s even more bitter and unfulfilled than ever.

what fef does showcase consistently and well, imo, is that severa is an emotional juggernaut.  there’s a fear undercutting much of her abrasiveness, that if she slows down for even a second or lets that facade peel away a bit, she’ll sink.  being honest with herself can be very difficult for severa, in a way that can be almost painful to watch, rather than romantic or cute.  she resents and blames the world for making her the way she is, and then resents and hates herself in turn.  both feelings are simultaneously justified and unjustified, to an extent in respect to each.  severa turns a lot of her barbs outwards in a reactionary fashion, to stave off more losses like those of cordelia and her father, while also turning them inwards because she knows she’s far too harsh.  this is s/t she has to struggle to disentangle and change, to sort out the parts of herself that (for example) are genuinely burdened by cordelia’s legacy from the parts of herself that willfully ignore the truth of cordelia’s feelings in favor of a stubborn vision of her mother that severa’s carried from a young, uninformed age.

however, severa isn’t all snark and bark.  there are different degrees, ranging from that heavy undercurrent of mistrust and bitterness to her and cynthia/laurent/inigo/kjelle/etc engaging in some relatively benign verbal sparring.  severa does show her soft underbelly, even if it sometimes has to be drawn out by her dad or someone like lucina.  i think it’s important for her to have that space to be softer and more honest with herself, without defanging her into an uguu dere shell of herself.  severa is just a really messy person, frankly, and i love it.  some of the mess is stuff she genuinely needs to move past in order to grow as a person, and some of the mess is a part of her that i feel i can’t sweep under the rug when portraying her--severa is severa, metaphorical warts and all, and it’s a huge part of what makes her so interesting to me.

- her tendency to project: kind of a weird dark horse pick to round this post off.  severa is very prone to projecting onto other people, whether she’s projecting her general feelings, or her feelings about someone else.  the big example is, obviously, cordelia--even if a fic never mentions cordelia, as i said in the previous point, a lot of severa’s inferiority-superiority complex stems from her flawed view of her mother.  severa sees cordelia as having chosen chrom over her because it was what she wanted to see as a young girl at the time of cordelia’s death.  she projected that limited understanding onto the image of her mother, and with no cordelia there alongside her as she grew up, there was no reason for severa to reevaluate that view as she matured in emotional understanding.  severa is damn stubborn about this particular projection, as dismantling it would open up quite a can of worms for her and force her to examine the parts of herself she can change, rather than blaming all her ressentiment on this ghost of cordelia.  “ressentiment” is a good term for the attitude with which severa projects onto cordelia in general, now that i think about it.  in any event, this implicitly influences a lot of the way severa acts and reacts, even if she doesn’t consciously think “this reminds me of the convoluted chain of thoughts, feelings, impressions, and misunderstandings that lead back to me blaming my mother for every aspect of my dissatisfaction with myself” lmao

it’s not always That Deep--severa is also just prone to more casual comparisons to other people she knows.  she does this a few times in her supports, and i have her compare herself to noire in one of my fics within that vein of projection.  she also does/would do this more in an fef setting, as with her peri-noire comparison (canon), which could then be extended to most of the new people she meets.  the notion of severa projecting her image of/feelings towards lucina onto camilla is a reeeeally particularly fascinating one, and a concept i still can’t figure out how to do justice.  so maybe it really is That Deep?  everyone accesses prior knowledge when faced with something/someone new, but i feel severa draws upon the familiar beyond that basic point.  this is another one of those traits that colors severa’s narration, while also informing the kinds of actions, remarks, or responses she might make when interacting with others.