#so that's what i'd draw them dancing to (if i drew)

[arverst-aegnar]

ZK Month Day 17: Reality TV AU

I can only hope that someday the ever-increasing catalogue of "things i want to draw" will grow powerful enough to defeat my absolute disinterest in actually drawing, but until then.

I have a few ZK month ideas i'm working on (slowly, so slowly) apart from the one i've finished, but this idea isn't likely to go anywhere, so i'll share it as-is and hope that someone is inspired enough to draw/write something based off of it ;-). Basically: Zutara "Dancing with the Stars" AU.

Zuko is the professional dancer, following in his mother's footsteps (haha). He's anxious about having a role on such a public platform, what with the scar, but it's something his uncle has been gently encouraging him to do for a while now. Katara meanwhile is a famous athlete. While she's more interested in competing and reaching the top of her field than the fame, she certainly doesn't dislike all the attention, and her press agent thinks that, since she's recently risen in public status thanks to a particular accomplishment, competing on the show can only help keep her in the public eye for longer. Her desire to prove herself and to be a serious contender clashes with Zuko's insecurity and hesitance to Be Seen, but the push and pull between them (countered by an immediate spark of connection) is enough to keep them moving without throwing them off-balance.

[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

[theenchantresx]

The Dance of Conquest

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!OC reader

Word Count: 1,225

Trigger Warnings: sexual tension, suggestive language, power dynamics, implied sexual themes and innuendos

The great hall of the Red Keep was buzzing with quiet conversation as lords and ladies dined beneath the glittering light of chandeliers. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the air, and yet, despite the lively atmosphere, your attention was elsewhere—focused entirely on the man seated across from you.

Aemond Targaryen, the Prince, was a figure both striking and impossible to ignore. His sharp features, the silver hair that cascaded down his back, and the single eye that gleamed with intelligence and something darker made him the center of every gaze. Yet tonight, he had eyes only for you.

It had been this way for several nights now—Aemond watching you, tracking your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle with awareness. You had felt the weight of his gaze from across the table, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth whenever you caught him staring.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, his attention was not subtle, and it felt as though the entire hall could sense it. You shifted slightly in your seat, the low murmur of conversation becoming little more than background noise to the tension building between you and the prince.

Aemond raised his goblet to his lips, his eye never leaving yours as he drank slowly, savoring the wine. When he set it down, his voice was quiet but carried through the hall like a soft command. "You're hardly eating, my lady."

The way he said "my lady" made your heart skip. His tone was deceptively casual, but there was a note of challenge beneath it, something that hinted at more than just concern over your meal. You picked at your food, aware that he was waiting for a response, but before you could find the right words, Aemond spoke again.

"Do I make you nervous?" he asked, his voice lower now, meant only for you.

Your breath caught, and you quickly glanced around to see if anyone had overheard. But no, the conversations around you continued, oblivious to the current between you and the prince. When you turned back to Aemond, his gaze had darkened, a hint of satisfaction tugging at his lips as if he already knew the answer.

"Hardly," you managed to reply, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Aemond chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a thrill down your spine. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing as if stripping away the barriers you had carefully built. "Good. I'd hate to think my presence unnerves you."

"It doesn't," you replied, your words firmer this time, though your pulse quickened under his intense scrutiny. The prince had a way of drawing out the truth with nothing more than a look, and even now, you could feel yourself unraveling under the weight of his attention.

Aemond’s lips curved into a slow smile, one that promised mischief. "No? Then what is it that has kept your gaze on me for most of the evening?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at the accusation, though you couldn't deny it. You *had* been watching him, just as he had been watching you. There was something about Aemond—something dangerous, alluring, that drew you to him in ways you couldn't fully explain. But you were not about to admit that to him, not here, not like this.

"I could ask the same of you," you countered, tilting your head slightly, hoping to throw him off balance, though you doubted such a thing was possible with Aemond.

His smile widened, but there was a predatory gleam in his eye now, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "Perhaps I find the company more... engaging than the meal."

His words were like a caress, subtle and dangerous, and you felt yourself leaning ever so slightly toward him, drawn in by the way his voice wrapped around you like silk. It wasn't just the words themselves, but the way he said them—each syllable dripping with suggestion, each pause pregnant with meaning.

Aemond’s hand moved, slowly, deliberately, as he reached for his goblet again. But instead of bringing it to his lips, he offered it to you, his eye never leaving yours. "Taste it," he murmured.

For a moment, you hesitated. There was something intimate, something forbidden in the gesture, as if accepting the goblet was a silent acknowledgment of the game being played between you. But the heat in his gaze left you with little choice.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his as you took the goblet from him, the contact brief but electric. Bringing the rim to your lips, you took a small sip, the wine rich and heady as it slid down your throat. When you handed the goblet back to him, Aemond’s fingers lingered against yours for just a moment longer than necessary.

"You've tasted mine," he said softly, his voice low and full of intent. "Now I wonder how you would taste."

The breath left your lungs in a rush, your heart pounding in your chest as the full weight of his words settled over you. There was no mistaking his meaning now—Aemond wasn’t playing coy anymore, and neither were you. The room around you seemed to fade, the laughter and chatter of the other guests dimming as the air between you crackled with tension.

"Bold words, Prince Aemond," you whispered, trying to maintain your composure even as your pulse raced.

He leaned in closer, his gaze locking onto yours with a fire that made your skin burn. "Bold actions, if you allow it."

Your breath hitched, and you felt the full force of his presence bearing down on you, the challenge in his voice daring you to take the next step. There was a hunger in his eye, one that mirrored your own, and in that moment, the carefully constructed boundaries between you began to crumble.

You leaned in, your voice barely audible as you met his gaze head-on. "And if I do?"

Aemond’s smile was slow, dangerous, and utterly captivating. He reached out, brushing his fingers against your hand in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your body. "Then I will show you the meaning of conquest."

The unspoken promise in his words left your heart racing, the world around you slipping away until there was only him, only this—Aemond Targaryen, and the game you had both been playing for far too long. And in that moment, you knew that this was no longer just a dinner. It was the beginning of something far more dangerous—and far more exhilarating.

The tension between you and Aemond hung thick in the air as his words settled between you like a challenge—one you weren't sure you were ready to face, yet your body screamed in anticipation. The din of the great hall seemed a distant hum, as though the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. Every flicker of candlelight reflected in his violet eye, turning the prince into something more than just dangerous. He was intoxicating.

You held his gaze, your pulse fluttering in your throat. The meaning of conquest. The way he said it, with that seductive smile and the promise in his tone, made your skin burn with heat. He was toying with you, but there was no mistaking his intent. You felt the way his gaze raked over you, the hunger in his eye barely contained. He wanted you—and gods, you wanted him, too.

But two could play at this game.

You leaned in slightly, your lips just barely curving into a smile as you allowed your gaze to flicker over him. His broad shoulders, the curve of his jawline, the way his silver hair fell loosely around him, making him look both regal and untamed. You met his eyes again, not shying away from the simmering tension between you.

"And what would your conquest entail, my prince?" you asked, your voice low, a playful edge to your words as you dared him to make his next move. You weren't going to make this easy for him.

Aemond's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile, as if he knew you were challenging him, and he welcomed it. He leaned in even closer, the warmth of his body radiating across the narrow table that separated you. The look in his eye was dangerous, full of desire and something darker, something you couldn't quite name.

"To conquer means to take, does it not?" he murmured, his voice smooth, though there was an undeniable edge to it. His hand, which had been resting casually on the table, slowly inched closer to yours. The tension grew, the gap between your hands narrowing until his fingers brushed against your skin in the lightest of touches.

You shivered at the contact, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted your head, your eyes never leaving his. "Is that what you wish?" you whispered, daring to use his name. "To take me?"

He smirked, his fingers grazing your skin again, this time with more purpose. "To take, yes. But not as you think," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with meaning. "I would take my time with you." His voice lowered, so only you could hear. "Taste every part of you. Learn every secret your body holds."

Your heart hammered in your chest at his words, your mind spinning. Aemond had always been intense, but tonight, there was something different, something more deliberate in his approach, as if he were setting a trap and you were walking straight into it. And yet, there was no part of you that wanted to stop.

"You speak as though I am yours already," you replied, your voice barely a whisper, but you could feel the shift in the air, the game you had started now teetering on a dangerous edge.

Aemond chuckled softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. His fingers finally closed over your hand, firm and possessive, as he leaned in even closer, his face inches from yours. The scent of wine and something distinctly him filled your senses, and you felt your pulse quicken as his thumb lightly traced circles on the back of your hand.

"Am I wrong?" he asked, his voice a soft, seductive purr.

Your breath caught in your throat. He was close now, too close, his face hovering near yours, his lips just a whisper away. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the rapid beating of your heart. The heat between you was unbearable, the tension thick enough to cut through, and every nerve in your body was on edge, waiting, wanting.

You swallowed hard, trying to regain control of the situation, but it was slipping away with every passing second. Aemond was winning this game, and you knew it. But something in you refused to give in just yet.

"If you wish to claim me, Prince Aemond," you whispered, your voice bolder than you felt, "then you will have to do better than this."

His smile widened, and the challenge in your voice only seemed to fuel the fire burning behind his eye. He didn’t pull away—instead, he brought his face even closer, so close that his breath fanned over your lips. His thumb pressed more firmly into your hand, the touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

"Trust me," he murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with promise, "when I claim you, you will know it. You will feel it in every part of your body, and you will beg for more."

The words sent a shockwave through you, your body responding before your mind could process the full weight of what he had said. Your breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, you felt yourself teeter on the edge of giving in.

But just as quickly, you snapped yourself back, your pulse racing as you pulled your hand away from his, though the space between you was still charged with energy. "Bold words," you said softly, though there was a tremor in your voice that betrayed the effect he had on you.

Aemond watched you carefully, his smirk deepening as if he knew exactly how close you were to surrender. He leaned back slightly, giving you the barest bit of space, though the air between you was still thick with unspoken desire.

"This is not over," he promised, his voice low, full of certainty. "You may resist now, but the night is long."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, the intensity in his gaze making it clear that this was far from over. Aemond Targaryen was a man who got what he wanted, and tonight, it was clear that what he wanted was you.

"Perhaps, Prince Aemond," you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you rose from your seat, knowing full well that this dance was far from its conclusion. "But you’ll have to catch me first."

With that, you turned and left the table, feeling his gaze burn into your back as you walked away. The night was indeed long—and the game had only just begun.

[literally-noone83]

Breathe Easy

Draken x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Draken comes by your place at night only to find out you've been stuck in a household full of screaming and yelling.

A/n: Another short oneeee. Writing juice on low. But I hope you like this comfort fic. Also of you have any requests or ideas for fics please send them in, I'd happy to look at it. Might spark a new writing piece or if I like it enough, I'll write what you suggest :)) Ok enjoy! ALSO, can't reply to comments yet. But to the love given for my Loki fic THANK YOUUUU.

He saunters down dampened roads and over the faint, flickering spots of light from streetlights that buzzed softly. Slanted and with the lingering smell of rust and rain, it marked the neglect of these metropolitan roads. He breezes through the long alleyways and the small spaces between brick walls where every ounce of light is evaporated under the high moon. Only the rare silouhette passes by in his distance or the echoe of reving cars.

His hands rest comfortably in his pockets as he wandered through the blocks of apartments, and dingey homes sat on the outskirts of the city. He knew them like the back of his hand. Needn't stop once or look over his shoulder. He can hear the crisp air whistle in his ear and every mile away car. Even if he was to be attacked it wasn't an issue to Toman's vice-leader.

His nerves rest easy. All that's on his mind is getting to where he needed to be.

Nearing the apartment complexes that sit almost side by side, he made his way over to one of the windows just above the ground. Lined on the floor, there were the partial basement housings. His eyes glided over the dirtied cement, the way the barred widows glisten with droplets that run down its faces. Many of them had its curtains drawn. It was midnight after all. Everyone should be asleep but amidst the lot, his eyes flickered with familiarity at the one that was never fully drawn at this hour. A warm glow from a lamp he knew kissed the edges of the lower window as he drew near.

Naturally the end of his lip curve up softly at the sight. He stops at the foot of it before crouching down, beside your window into your room. He tilts his head to see you at your desk beside that small lamp as expected. However... his eyes peered over your slouched figure upon not textbooks upon textbooks but rather a comic. Strange, he thought.

Casually, he leans forward and knocks on your window. He watched your head snap towards him in somewhat of a shock. He noticed the way your eyes don't light up or the way you don't instantly smile. Instead, you're quick to move over to him and pull the window open before sitting back down.

"I thought you had patrol." You go back to the comic you left open. His smile has long disappeared.

"Finished... thought you'd be studying." He hums lowly. On cue a loud thud ricochet off the wall followed by barking voice of anger that overlapped one another.

Furrowed brows etch his complexion with worry as his eyes instantly dart over to your unflinching self. You continued to stare at your comic. With the way your eyes were distilled upon the animated drawings, he wondered how long you've been re-reading that same page.

"Couldn't think..." You finally murmur.

He let's out a silent sigh. "Should I-"

"They're fine... just angry as usual. And stupid."

His eyes danced over your expression carefully, but it doesn't move.

"Have they been at it all day?"

There's a momentary hesitation in your eyes and he watches shame wash over you like it's your fault. You hum softly not once looking at him.

Draken has seen that face before. Distant and quietly fuming, so unlike the unceasing smiles, bubbling and maniacle laughter, and that endless sarcasm that makes your eyes glimmer. At times, Draken truly wondered how two emotionally unstable and temperamental people could produce someone like you and let their shitty relationship weigh on their child this much.

Over the years knowing you, Draken never saw anything affect your mood as your parents' big blowout fights did. Draken never had parents, and despite growing up under the roof of a brothel that had its own varying imperfections, he could only imagine how hefty it was to be an only child isolated between walls that shook with the yells and screaming of parents love that's meant to warm them.

An unadulterated scream echoes, like a child throwing a tantrum before more barking follows; empty threats of money loss, divorce, cheating and who knows what more. The dull look in your eyes that stares blankly, he could see the hurt you never like showing. But he can see it.

His jaw ticks. He hated you being there alone. He quickly looks around, down both the empty wet streets.

"Hey." He said suddenly.

"You should go." You still don't look at him.

"Hey."

"They'll stop soon."

"I said hey."

"What?" You snap your head towards him, a hint of irritation.

Your gaze met his through the bars where he crouches. He taps on the metal.

"Let's go." It's not a question. It's a soft demand.

The crease between your brows smooths at the mere of idea of escaping. Your lips part, eyes unsure.

"I- draken I can't."

"You can. Come with me." He says again. "C'mon you've done it before."

You sigh at his persistence. "It's midnight."

"And this is a fucking shit hole." He deadpan. "Let's get out of here."

He coxed a brow at you in challenge as you looked at him sternly. Immediately his gaze softens into something assuring and pleading. "Cmon, Y/n... let them have it out. You don't have to listen to their shit."

You take a deep breath before shutting your comic and reaching into your draw for a key. You climb up and unlock the window gate. Draken stands back, swinging the gate open and reaching down to help you up through the window.

"God, they're gonna kill me." You grunt as you find your footing. Draken takes the key and shuts up your window and locks the gate.

"No they won't." He says it so self-assured. Not because he's sure you won't get caught sneaking out but because he'd never let anyone harm you, not even your damned parents.

"You're right, they'd come after you." You poke at him, a smile threatening your lips.

His ears perk up at the tingue of your familiar words. He straightens, looking down at you with a smirk.

"Good. Can't wait to actually meet them." His voice is unsuspecting, but his comment is playful. His dry sarcasm makes you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide the humoured grin that breaks out on your lips. You couldn't help yourself. If anything, everything in you chanted you shouldn't be smiling. Shouldn't even remotely feel like smiling after such a shitty day contained in a cage of torment. But with Draken, you let slip a rather quiet and sarcastic comment, and all of a sudden the end of your lips twitch, and you felt like laughing.

A satisfied smile blooms on his lips as he catches your small smile. There it was. That Sass. That impeccable humour that cracks at the smallest of things. That smile.

There's my girl, he thought.

He takes your hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Let's have fun, yea?"

You sober up and a genuine smile takes its place on your lips. Even in darkness, he could see the stars dance in your eyes. You held a softening gaze, and your shoulds deflated as if all stresses were slowly leaving you willingly and happily. With an expression that said through unspoken words he didn't need you to ever say aloud, 'I'm glad you're here.' That 'I feel safe with you.'

"To the park?" You asked, a twinge of childish hope in your voice.

That knowing look in his eyes said yes, and that was all you needed before you were tugging him forward then letting go in a spontaneous race to get there first.

At home you felt like you couldn't breathe. Those walls felt so close together. Outside knowing Draken was a few spaces behind or beside you, you could breathe. Puffing out white smokes of cold air from your lungs after running down the street, giggling and hushing one another in empty pathways and swinging on swings under the streetlight hazy glow.

With you, the dark alleyways and wet tar roads weren't so mundane. Cold rainy nights like that one, sauntering down cramped homes and dingey parks weren't so uninviting. Long nights didn't feel so long, and lonely walks didn't feel so lonely. With you, the moon wasn't the most beautiful sight in the night anymore...

Without having to say it or proclaim it, you both wordlessly save each other from your own endeavours. With one another, you could breathe easy. With one another, you were a little less alone. With one another, you felt safe and, most importantly, alive.

[moeitsu]

Ch 19 is so goddamn long. I'd apologize but I find that I can't. I really love this chapter. I will say sorry for the delay though. I've started work again and I'm in the middle of planning a house party. So as a token of my appreciation for your patience, here's another snippet of Ch 19.

Slight NSFW ahead ;)

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

"What were you dreaming of this morning?" She whispered, curiosity coloring her words as they moved in perfect sync.

"You," came his husky reply, his breath warm against her ear. "I always dream of you."

Her smile deepened, her heart dancing to the same rhythm as their steps. "And was I wearing this dress in your dreams?" she flirted, her body swaying enticingly against his.

Arthur’s grin was both mischievous and endearing. "Not exactly," he murmured, his eyes glinting with a hint of devilry. "You wore something very different."

Intrigued, she leaned closer, her voice a soft tease. "Oh? And what might that have been?"

"Me," he growled softly, his voice low and seductive, drawing a delighted shiver from Kate as they continued to waltz under the starlit sky.

Arthur's voice was a seductive murmur, laced with raw desire, as he leaned in close, his breath warm against Kate's ear. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking about right now?" he whispered, his hands tightening on her waist as he drew her closer into his embrace.

Kate's heart pounded in her chest, her skin tingling with anticipation. She nodded, her voice a mere whisper, "Yes."

Arthur's fingers traced a line up her spine, sending shivers cascading down her body. He dipped his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, inhaling deeply. "I'm thinking about how stunning you're going to look laid out beneath me," he breathed out, his words painting a vivid, enticing picture. "I imagine you on my sheets, your skin glowing in the dim light, your hair spread out like a wild mane, your lips tender and flushed from my kisses."

Her eyes fluttered shut, lost in the fantasy he described. "Your eyes," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky growl, "dark with longing, just like they are now. I think about the soft moans you’ll make, the ones that drive me wild, make me desperate to be inside you."

Kate’s breath caught in her throat, her body instinctively pressing closer to his. The garden, the music, the murmur of the guests faded into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of the moment between them.

"And I think about how fiercely we’ll make love," Arthur added, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her against him. "How you’ll claw at my back, pulling me deeper, your body welcoming me home. How tight and perfect you’ll feel around me, and how with each thrust, you’ll moan my name until it’s etched into the night air."

Overwhelmed by his words, Kate's knees weakened, her entire being alight with desire. Arthur steadied her, his gaze intense and full of promise. "I can’t wait any longer, Kate," he declared, a resolute edge to his voice. "Tonight, I will have you. Completely and utterly. No interruptions, no holding back. Just you and me, lost in each other until dawn."

The certainty in his tone, the undeniable hunger in his eyes, left her breathless. This was a side of Arthur she had glimpsed but never fully experienced—passionate, possessive, and profoundly in love with her.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night 29/?

71. Lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other to the point of barely having strength enough to breathe

Summary:

"So what's this revelation you wanted to tell me about?" Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stood in front of Buck. The setting sun offered just enough light to see the softness in his eyes, and the slight curve of his lips.

(read below!)

Buck took another long pull of his beer. It did nothing for his nerves. He knew he had nothing to worry about, not really.

But telling Eddie would open a door he'd long thought closed. Since the day Shannon came back.

Opening it was dangerous. If, by some tiny chance, Eddie loved him back and it didn't work, he'd be throwing away the best friendship- the best relationship- he'd ever known.

Keys jingling behind the door drew him from his quickly growing spiral. He wiped his surprisingly sweaty palms on his thighs and stood as Eddie came in.

"Sorry I'm late," Eddie said as he entered the loft, "there was construction on Sunset."

"I knew you'd get here eventually," Buck said with a smile. The last time Eddie was late was because of Ana. Now, not even Marisol stopped him (Buck did not do a happy dance when Eddie told him about the breakup yesterday. He did not).

"So what's this revelation you wanted to tell me about?" Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stood in front of Buck. The setting sun offered just enough light to see the softness in his eyes, and the slight curve of his lips.

"Well, you know the other day when I uh... came out to you and Chris?" Buck asked, wringing his hands.

Eddie nodded.

"I was... I was wondering if m- maybe..."

Why was it so hard? Eddie was his best friend, it should be easy. But... maybe that's why it's not. If they tried it, and it didn't work-

"Buck," Eddie said softly, clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "you know there isn't a thing you can say to me to make me walk away."

Buck ducked his head with a bashful smile, his lower lip between his teeth. Eddie's thumb swept across his pulse point, encouraging him and grounding him at the same time.

He took a deep breath and looked into Eddie's eyes. "Would you like to go out on a date? W- with me?"

Slowly, like the sun rising, a smile appeared on Eddie's face. A smile so bright and beautiful it made his eyes crinkle. God, Buck loved him.

"Yes," Eddie said with a happy giggle. "I'd love to go out with you."

Buck couldn't help the relieved breath he let out. He couldn't believe his ears, his eyes. It wasn't all in his head. Eddie had feelings for him too.

"I have one question though," Eddie asked, the smile transforming into possibly the hottest smirk Buck had ever seen.

"What's that?" Buck asked.

Eddie placed a steady hand on his waist. "Do I have to wait till after our date to kiss you?"

Buck giggled and wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist, drawing him in. "I'm done waiting," Buck whispered before pressing his lips to Eddie's.

He expected stars, or supernovas, or at the very least confetti canons. Instead, all he felt was a sense of home, of rightness. A band in his chest unfurled as the hand on his shoulder slowly came to rest at the nape of his neck.

Eddie pulled away and rested their foreheads together. "Wow," he whispered.

"Yeah," Buck said with a breathless chuckle.

Eddie leaned in again, slotting their lips together. Buck pulled them flush together as Eddie teased the seam of his lips apart. Sparks flew down Buck's spine, lighting every nerve on fire. Lightning couldn't compare.

They kissed until the need for oxygen pulled them apart. Buck rested his forehead against Eddie's, his hands splayed across his back.

"Is it too soon to tell you I love you?" Eddie asked.

"I think we've been saying it for years," Buck said. The door he was so afraid had been closed was always open, just waiting for them to step through. Together.

"I love you," Eddie said, pressing a chaste, already familiar kiss to Buck's lips.

"I love you," Buck grinned against his lips.

They did go on their first date... after a few other firsts.

[the-fiction-witch]

What is The Meaning Of This!

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smutty

Requested

Hi, I have a request for the Jack Dawkins book. You don't have to do it btw. But could you please do one where y/n is the governor's daughter and she is at a ball which is for her and her father? Then Jack is also there and he and y/n keep teasing each other and then eventually sneak off to another room but then her father catches them in the act. I love your books so much and you don't have to do this. Thank you

I sighed as I finished the dance and I headed away to find myself a place to settle for a while grabbing a drink on the way. I found myself a spot and settled there holding my fan close batting myself a little from the heat of the room, sipping my drink. I glanced up and saw Doctor Jack Dawkins dressed in his finery, across the ballroom we caught eyes and immediately we moved them away but still I kept an eye on him, as I noticed his white gloves and he noted my dress's matching fan, and we both knew what we could do without getting in trouble. For a moment I familiarised myself with the secretive language, the small movements and motions that meant things across a ballroom.

He smirked and smoothed out his gloves as he stood across the room, 'I wish I were with you'

I smiled and held my fan in my left hand for a while, 'I wish for attention and acquaintance'

He saw my answer and moved holding his gloves with the tips downward 'I'd like to be acquainted'

I moved and placed my fan to my right ear as I glanced up and down at his clothes, 'You've changed?'

He dropped a glove a moment 'Yes' and picked it up again so we could continue talking before then he went to take a step but quickly

Rested my fan on my left cheek 'No.'

He stopped short,

I drew my fan across my forehead 'We're being watched'

He glanced at my father and I rested my fan on my right cheek 'Yes'

He smirked a little and began to draw halfway on his right hand, indifference which puzzled me but I know him well enough to know he meant 'I don't care'

I smiled blushing a little Presenting a shut fan 'Do you love me?'

He rolled his eyes knowing was I was going to make him do to respond to me but he dropped both gloves 'I love you' before picking them up again so we could continue talking

I giggled a little and I rested my fan on my right cheek 'Yes'

He smiled and showed off his left hand with his thumb out of his glove, 'Do you love me?'

And I began to draw across my right cheek 'I love you'

He smiled back and held the glove loose in his left hand 'I am satisfied'

I smiled wickedly and began to carry my fan in my right hand 'You are too willing' but I hope the tone could carry with my smile, but I'm not sure how you can do sarcasm... with a fan.

he winked and dropped a glove 'Yes.' before picking it up again so we could continue talking

I closed my fan tightly and looked at him 'I wish to speak with you'

He bit his lip a little and checked our surroundings luckily we weren't being watched, before putting the gloves away 'Done'

I carried my fan open in my left hand 'Come and speak to me'

He took his chance and moved across the ballroom to stand beside me,

"Good Evening Milady," He greeted offering his hand,

"Good Evening Doctor." I curtsied and offered my hand,

He took it and gave it a sweet kiss, "Do you think you could grant me such an honour as to allow me to lead you in a dance?"

"The honour would be all mine doctor, however regrettably my dance card is full for the evening."

"When has that ever stopped you before?" he smirked, "Come on, It's me."

I glanced over and immediately noticed my father looking, so I shot Jack a look and drew my fan across my forehead 'We're being watched'

"Very well" he nodded, moving to stand politely with me, "He has got you on a short lead tonight." He whispered,

"He has," I whispered back,

"Hummm why?" he asked, "Have you been naughty milady?" He said in a very hushed tone with his usual sly smile, 

Immediately I blushed at his words using my fan to hide my face letting the top lace sit just under my eyes, 

"I take that as a yes."

"He saw me coming back in last night," I whispered,

"Did he now? You should be more careful returning from your late night... adventures." 

"I should your right," I smiled noticing we finally were not being watched so I shot him a look and closed my fan and set the tip to my lips 'Kiss me' 

He smirked and checked around the ballroom before he grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the party as quickly as we could move, I didn't deny him I ran with him as we bolted down the corridor away from the party. We quickly found ourselves at the usual spot the quiet library heading inside and shutting the door behind us, the shutters closed up and the fire not burning leaving us in a sweet sensual darkness that only the small lamp we turned on on the desk would force away, immediately Jack grabbed me by the back of my thighs and lifted me onto the desk, 

"Alone at last."

"We were alone last night."

"Yeah, doesn't mean I haven't missed you Y/n." 

"I've missed you too Jack,

"we finally able to talk without these stupid things?" he smirked forcing my fan from my hand 

I nodded and grabbed his neck pulling him into a kiss, he happily kissed back his own hands one on my thigh pushing up my dress the other on my cheek to stroke my soft skin, my own as we kissed one move down to hold his shirt the other up into his hair, our kisses fast, lusty, almost violent as we moved in such desperation for one another the sounds of our kisses and our moans filled the library's silence. Our lips clacked and battling one another trying to win over control and as usual he won, or well I let him in. 

"Humm I think you have been a naughty little thing Milady." he smirked biting my bottom lip as he pulled away not hard but enough to pull on it a little, "take off your dress and let your doctor look after you then," he demanded

"Yes Jack," I gasped already over-eager my hand sliding down from his chest to begin undoing his trousers

"What is the meaning of this!" Echoed through the library as the door was forced open and there stood my father, with my mother, sisters, and the maids in tow. 

"Ohhhh....Sh- Sugar." I gulped, as I glanced at the situation we sat in. 

Having snuck away from the ball, now alone with Jack, sat on the library desk with his hand up my dress and my own undoing his trousers, even my lipstick slightly graced his face.

 "Holy Hell... were in trouble," I whined,

"So much trouble." He gulped too. 

[lindalofbroome]

original sketches

DELTORA FASHION CONCEPT ART V2

hello i have finally coloured some rough sketches of some deltoran fashions, a redraw of some really old sketches from ages ago.

im a pretty amateur concept artists and i hate designing clothes so truly was a challenge for me hahah BUT it has given me plenty of time to think of headcanons. im not sure what i've already posted about or not so im just gonna go ahead and rant

these characters were originally just models for me to draw the clothes on, so i didn't need to draw a new person every time; although in some of my earliest sketches of different people groups i did a bunch of people. but naturally these characters have developed a little and some of them are my beloved adin-era OCs <3

[about 4,500 words]

⬜ JALIS

since the jalis are reknowned for their warrior prowess and their signature gold armour, i thought it'd be neat that even if when they're not wearing the full set, they are always wearing their arm guards. it's a sense of pride and identity, they probably receive them as a rite of passage into adulthood. not every jalis is a knight, but they value a heart of courage and great feats and they all have them, and would wear them always (or at least special occasions if one prefers not).

i headcanon that jasmine was gifted her own set of arm guards as an expression of their respect and admiration of her. her relationship with glock grew so much and was cut off, but she earned her "heart of a jalis" and we didnt get to see much of jasmine and gers together, but theres plenty of time post-DQ3. i think my jasmine and the jalis thoughts should be a separate post though, otherwise this post will never end 😂

i dont imagine that the jalis had special party clothes, i think they just turn up in their usual clothes and get drunk and dance their hearts out maybe start a brawl thats none of my business

i cant remember why i've been giving them this geometric sort of pattern tbh. i think i drew someone at some point and wanted it to look different to mcbride's design but im not sure if i like it or not. the plus is that i can make diamond motifs though!!

i also cant really remember how my brown skin gold hair came to be 🤔🤔 wait backtracking i think what happened is that i decided to draw del people as black latinx inspired, so it wasn't that big a step to make jalis also dark skinned since they're both in the south (deltora geography is weird tho so like it's not that deep) and then i think i made them blonde as i "why not??" situation but tHEN i thought maybe it's connected to their jalis gold?

my headcanon is that their armour is made of a unique metal that can only be found in diamond territory, it's super hard, tough, and light etc. so maybe whatever is In The Ground is also in them and their blood and shows in their hair????

🥳 fun fact 🥳 wasn't until i had to draw steven and glock side by side that i had realised what i'd done?? i.e. steven canonically has brown skin gold hair too¹. which now forces me to think about whether it should be a coincidence (like it is) or shall i headcanon that steven and nevets' father was jalis² 🤔 ¹ pretty sure it's about the dichotomy, to show contrast but connection between the brothers. i have many steven and nevets thoughts but that should also be another post ² i am.

🟩 DREAD GNOMES

these characters are adin-era, so unfortunately this would be when the gnomes still hunt the kin. whats weird is that i realised that i was picturing the caramelly brown fabric that this gnome is wearing was the kin pelt and not the big furry parts?? i usually picture the kin as more like velvetty. idk what the thicker fur parts would be though?? literally any other animal i guess 😅 i dont know it doesn't make sense and it's only occurring to me right now i shall have to think about it lmao

anyway made them green because why not. maybe they come in different colours idk. this gnome is pre-gellick so does go out in the sun, gellick-era gnomes would be waaaaay more paler they probably looked white. this could be similar to the jalis and like theres something in the grounddd

gla-thon claims that the dread gnomes knew that lesser gems had weaker but the same powers of the great talisman gems (sots), but im not sure if they knew it before adin. would be interesting if they did 🤔 and how they figured it out?? (side note but now im wondering about how withick knew what to write about the gems??) would imply that if they got the great emerald than they could deduce there are others surely. unless they thought it was a freak accident/miracle. anyway we know they love gems and gold etc etc so they obviously decorate themselves with heaps of jewellery

triangle motifs in homage to their mountain 💚

i gave them a sort of war paint ritual. i'm not sure if they all do the same markings, but this one was specifically to symbolise a bow and arrow (arrow going up the nose). you can see it a bit better here lol. i also decided that sometimes they wear it for purely cosmetic purposes. im not sure what the substance is exactly though. i think in my head i was imagining something similar to kohl, but maybe not.

🥳 fun fact 🥳 bre-tak and az-zure are lesbians (i make the rules)

🟦 MERE

oooooh baby this is my guy my babygirl my everything

okay so i think this headcanon developed recently when i last drew sky of rithmere and i thought that mere superstition encouraged them to wear their charms in random spots to avoid them cancelling each other out. it could be construed to be they were inspired by the night sky and the pattern of the stars perhaps. this led them to prefer asymmetrical fashions, mostly prominent in the armour i put badr in

🥳 fun fact 🥳 badr means "full moon" 👀

i think i originally decided the mere had leather armour just to give them something different iirc but the mere characters we see are usually the lithe, speedy, crafty type, so maybe light, mobile armour does work for them lol. anyway the main reason is that i had the image of studded leather, and i was like ohohoho STARS

i generally think of them with muted colours but sometimes they have a bold blue for their prized garmants. like zillah and co, the leaders of rithmere in adin's time were described with bright blue and starry cloaks. (i checked the wiki just to check zillah's name lol and apparently it's actually canon they have leather armour?? so not sure why i thought otherwise) anyway i do currently have minecraft brain but i did vaguely remember that people made ultramarine pigment from grinding lapis lazuli into a powder and im not sure if thats something the mere would do or if there's some strong blue dyes they can get from plants or something native to their territory 🤔

actually im liking that idea now? it would be incredibly time-consuming and labour-intensive but that would add to its value?? real world lapis lazuli has a horrible yield rate of 1kg lapis to 30g of pigment apparently, but it's a strong pigment (unless i misunderstand). alternative name for ultramarine is "permanent blue" apparently so. anyway ultramarine irl is more of a paint pigment, but in roddaverse maybe the mere make a lucky blue dye to use on cloaks and scarfs and shawls etc for good fortune?? me frantically checking that i put badr and luisa's wedding garb in bold blue lmAO oh i did but it's a little muted. they mix in oils and stuff to make the paint, so it doesnt seem like a stretch that they can mix different ingredients or ratio to make a cloth dye (to my very amateur understanding).

so im imagining now that they have a special (probably secret within the mere) process to create bright blue thread speckled with white (also gold to me. im pro deltora lapis with gold) and weave it into their beautiful starry night fabric. the amount of labour and the use of their prized lapis lazuli makes it very special, and maybe some people think it's the lapis that makes the fabric lucky or maybe some people think it's the work of love and time that makes it lucky, maybe both.

🥳 fun fact 🥳 i forgot that "bless your lucky stars" is like a real saying until recently lol

a starry cloak is probably something only the really rich could afford, but i think that they are more like heirlooms and states of office? im not sure if these pieces are things that one would purchase or something they would receive. bit hard to imagine people doing it for free but maybe it's one of those staple things that they revere and everyone else works to support them as well etc like the cooks in noradz are prized. idk. but yeah like a poorer family couldn't get a new one, but they would have one that has been in their family for generations you know? and i think that there would be something about like. idk youre meeting up with your doctor or something and youre nervous and you put on your family's best clothes (the most lucky ones) and maybe youre cynical about the whole good fortune stuff but there's something comforting about wearing the cloak your mother wore and your grandmother and your great grandmother wore, who also had to do such things. something something gives you the confidence to make your own luck because youre no longer pessimistic and allowing avoidable mistakes to happen

this means that the mere giving adin a cloak was a REALLY big deal because they definitely dont just go throwing those around and they would probably only give it to an outsider in trade for a steeeeeeeeeeeep price. which of course means that there would be knock offs with bad quality dye. lmao thats perfect actually. like 10000% there would be merchants in rithmere trying to sell cheaper versions to people that are expensive but still affordable to the average person. some would be different shades of blue, but the more crafty might have dyes that are strong but not lasting.

oh also i headcanon that palace fashion was a conglomerate of aspects from all the tribes but this should be it's own post i think. but i just remembered that i put gold thread in badr's braids in the formal wear sketch. i did that to tie in with the veins/flecks of gold (technically pyrite) in irl lapis lazuli. as such, people at del palace were inspired to weave gold into their hair too.

also gives me another thing to ship badr and luisa lmao. badr can wear some gold and luisa can wear some blue as a treat for me <3 moon and stars ocs beloved

🟨 DEL

alright. okay so del is definitely very white western patriarchal coded (most just a bias of living in that type of society i reckon) but it sucks and i'm passionate about making del NOT that. i think i've said this a million times now but this should be it's own post too, but most succinctly del is a very vibrant, curious, and daring sort of culture (e.g. their recklessness, exploration, trading). they were already marrying non-deltorans before adin (i imagine that some might have dared to marry outside of del, but it would have been way more politically complex so it was rarer and often kept quiet and rural). people of del were moving to other countries (like dorne) and people were probably moving to del, so del is definitely a big mix of different people and languages and superstitions and stuff.

but anyway i wanted to set a sort of base for before that. i've had art on the wip pile for YEARS about this and i'd flesh this out properly when it's done lol (hopefully we see that day) but since the topaz has the power to summon spirits, i really wanted to develop an aspect of del culture around that? i was inspired by Día De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) and i still want to do some more in depth research and explore it more properly, but i like the idea that del will celebrate their lost loved ones life, coming together to remember, if they were lucky the got to see and even talk to their spirits. maybe pre-talisman they did know about topaz properties and they had a big deposit of gems that they would wheel out for the festival and the huge pile under the full moon would be enough to allow the spirits and people to interact? anyway this is a longwinded explanation of why my sketches of del fashion could be latinx inspired.

circle motifs in homage to the moon. the trim decoration on luisa's scabbards are based on moon phases :D

i also arbitrarily decided that del people love swishy clothes. they're all about the drama of cloaks and twirling in sundresses etc it's fun. not sure if i will actually follow through with that lol or maybe that can just be luisa.

🥳 fun fact 🥳 i think hearing luisa laugh would heal me

there's no particular reason for why i've been drawing a lot of del people as black, other than maybe spite lol. i think i drew jasmine and that got the ball rolling. del is a blank enough slate that they can be anything. im tired of white people being the front runners asldkjfhalsdf. bUT again del is multicultural, so there isn't a particular look for anyone in del. being del is more a state of mind and being part of community i think. you move to del and you participate in their society in one way or another and boom youre del now they adopted you.

🌈 PLAINS

hiran attire inspired by french aristocratic fashion. i cant remember who posted about it but pretty sure this was something that circulated around the fandom at least a little bit at some point.

added some subtle rainbow to harlow's outfits because he's the strong silent type. but i suppose there are so much more gaudier and extravagant outfits.

i was going to say this was just hira fashion and not like, rural plains fashion but i guess this is the same for all of them. it's just like a general direction for what someone might wear.

the swirly patterns?? i dont know. i drew them when i did adin's pre-battle speech as the last supper but i dont think there's a particular reason. i remember that i was trying to do something unique because lief recognises the cup in the city of rats as the same/similar to the one in noradz, so there had to be something to be recognisable lol but i probably just did it this way because it's relatively easy to doodle, just takes a bit of time.

🥳 fun fact 🥳 harlow was a cook before the shadow invasion. out of desperation, he and many others had to train to defend hira. he's big with natural balance and reflexes so he excelled and is a pretty adept warrior, but he will always think of himself as a cook first, warrior second.

now the armour!! freshest headcanon piping hot. yesterday when i was colouring i was sitting there like wow you look like a tin can man and you are so boring. we went from pretty colours to blank. im almost certain the hiran soldiers were described as silver with white plumes, so i was planning on doing that but they had intricate details on their armour because they are Extra, so it has the swirly patterns you can see on harlow's coat.

but then suddenly i was like. what if. pearlescent.

and honestly i loved it so much i didnt care i was setting myself up for some difficult work ahead lmao. but my general idea was that they're armour looked like it was silver, but if the light catches it at the right angle it exposes the rainbow in it. most of these headcanons i've had baking for at least a year, but this is very new so i dont any hard details yet. kira mentioned enamel or ceramic and lowkey interested in having a look into that so that theres another armour material. maybe it's gonna be like special jalis gold and special plains silver. maybe something else. i also just remembered bismuth exists (same boat as gold as very heavy and soft) but i think maybe it's too loud, i think im liking the more subtle pearlescent thing aLTHOUGH it's a good metallic rainbow reference 👀 maybe there is an esteemed plains warrior with a rainbow sword

ANYWAY pearlescent armour really hit my heart because oh my god once upon a time the plains had a shore and they could visit the sea,,,, lowkey ocean vibes without an ocean [screaming crying cat spinning in a void.gif]

🥳 fun fact 🥳 i have NO idea what food harlow has made. i think i had ratatouille on the brain at the time????

🟥 RALADS

⚠ PROPAGANDA ALERT ⚠

ruby territory best territory. ruby symbol of happiness. warns of danger AND antidote to poison. double helpful. ralads are so sweet and so smart. architectural and engineering marvels. living in harmony with the land and beasts. D'OR!!! manus and nanion friendship underrated and so special to me. horse girls. AND. broome. god theres so much i could say about broome that i cant say anything. anyway you guys know im normal about broome yes of course. separate post etc etc

i think technically this is a headcanon but it's not that big a stretch surely but as above i always picture ralads as in harmony with nature. never take more than they need, know how to work with not against, theyre not the main attraction but an equal part of the bigger picture.. this isn't even about how smart they are with engineering and their perfectly round houses with bricks that are cut perfectly. im thinking about their knowledge of their world is so strong and wide and diverse. they have the most vibrant and potent dyes and pigments around, they have the most colourful fabrics and clothes around. the plains has many colours but it can't compete, and they have different styles. i think that the hirans would trade for the dyes though (maybe undercutting pre-adin, maybe more equal post-unification). i think that they would also have a pretty decent blue dye but it is still inferior to mere lapis lazuli blue. it is probably a dye that could be used for a mid range mere garment?

maybe it's the anime fault but i do usually imagine ralads as barefoot but i also drew iris with construction tools and just the idea of ralads walking around a construction site barefoot was not fun to me. but it could be a hobbit tough soles situation. anyway i drew some shoes so i had a vague reference if i wanted to draw ralad shoes.

obviously had a problem drawing warrior attire for a non-war race. but i thought what if i leaned into the stories the hirans tell about how the scouts and soldiers they send into the ralad wilds never returned and were often found dead with broken bones or whatnot. definitely big watching but never seen vibes imo. so i decked iris out in some camouflage lol

🥳 fun fact 🥳 im sure the ralads can whistle and whatnot to make birdcall signals, but i thought it was fun for iris to be able to make birdcalls with her flute

HEY ALSO headcanon about ralad hair. i was making some dragon art from a doran pov that i was going to save for that but i cant wait now. but we know from Tales that the ralads had a good relationship with the ruby dragons, could even summon them (unless im misremembering and it was more like a premeditated calling) but i was thinking about how they nest with .. human? hair. and i was thinking what if they grow out their hair? and then they offer it to a dragon when they are ready? i dont know if there's a nesting season for dragons but it could be something like that? ralad-dragon ceremony and party time. this isn't a rite of passage type of thing, just something that they like to do. not everyone does it probably, but most do it once, some people do it several or many times in their lifetime. it's an honour, but not really a sacrifice to them. it's part of the world balance and theyre willing to serve the dragons as the dragons serve them as they water the plants and the plants feed them and they feed beasts and beasts feed them.

also dont remember why i did the hair so bright and orangey??? genuinely perplexed lmao. probably was leaning into irl ginger but like THEYRE BLUE so i could probably make them actual red. not sure if this is also like a "theres something in the ground" situation also that makes their hair red but maybe 😂😂

side note but it's lowkey so wild to me that rodda was like yeah these guys are blue-grey with red hair, and then everyone else is like an average person, BUT the mountain people are short. like they're all just some guy basically???

it does make return to del so so funny because fallow is like AYO look at these MONSTERS they are UGLY and WEIRD

but i guess thats part of the motivation to give the deltora tribes some basic unique traits.

🟪 TORANS

okay so toran robes as inspired by japanese fashion is definitely something that's floated around the fandom for ages. i can't remember if it was before or after seeing posts about it that i started my first concept sketches but i think it probably had a hand in helping me visualise what rodda was talking about when she described their robes as butterfly wings when they speed-travelled. like yeah big deep sleeves and floor trailing hems WOULD probably look like colourful butterfly wings in the wind,,

🥳 fun fact 🥳 azami be always hungry. if only she knew someone who liked to cook 🤔

i don't have much to say design-wise, kinda just did various doodling. they would probably be second in extravagance to the plains, but it's a different sort of detail? they are probably a bit more refined and elegant than the hirans who are probably more bold in their designs. torans grow to be vain and selfish (it's already started by adin's time) so they probably have a high value on the beauty of their belongings, and it probably began with imagery of beasts and plants and dragons in amethyst territory, "true" pictures. but as time went on it probably distorted a bit and became idealised and/or fantastical etc.

OKAY SO my brain bluescreened just now for a moment trying to figure out how a people who use magic to make life easier, were also the ones known for their weaving, a manual hands-on task (lief's cloak is praised as being worthy of toran looms, implying high grade; pretty sure this was supposed to be a hint that his mother is not who he thinks she is also). some conclusions are 1) they weave with magic (sad, horrible), 2) they weave as a past-time, for fun etc (okay) but i took it to a third option

for a long time ive been thinking about toran magic as like, a balance and an energy thing (because i like that stuff lol) they cannot create something from nothing, only change things. they couldnt summon a fire, but they could change a piece of wood to fire and start a campfire, or those more advanced could even change the air into fire. but honestly it's left me a bit unsatisfied. like how does that explain the tora-del highway? hELL tora itself? what happened to the marble that got carved away? also how can that mountain have been so perfect there was no cracks or seams?? or did they carve those bits out lol. questions for another day.

anyway i was thinking about how hobbies are good for you, you dont have to be good at something but it's good to do stuff for fun and when you do crafts you get a cool thing at the end of it that you made. but it's also like skills you can develop? and i wondered what if weaving is a starter skill that they learn, some of them at least. maybe there are different activities, and they do the one that speaks to them the most. there were other types of artisans in tora, just not as talked about (i guess they're robes are pretty iconic so it's easy for people to go wow robes wow weavers who made fabric for the robes so soft) like i distinctly remember barda remarking about how tora was untouched and why bandits wouldn't have stolen the carved box that ended up holding the auto-reply letters from the palace.

so what im thinking is that maybe this builds a foundation to help torans visualise and perform their magic?

it actually solves a problem ive had in my headcanons i feel like ive got seven eyes open rn 😂😂 but in relation to del culture and traditions, i've been thinking about there being a physical and spiritual realm of course, and maybe it's the comfort of threes but it felt like something was missing.

i dont know what to call it yet, but im thinking the third thing is like the glue, it connects all things, it's in everything. it's like a third realm but also more of like a medium maybe? kind of sappy but we can just call this the magical realm for now. i actually used to think of toran magic as being like a subset of the greater deltora magic, but now im thinking it's more like torans are more receptive to the magic realm, as del are to the spiritual, and the ralads to the physical; theyre the experts in these things, which is why unified deltora is important 😂; likewise dread gnomes specialise in gems, jalis in combat, mere in cunning, plains in hope perhaps? literally never thought about it quite like this so maybe i will process it different later and designate different specialties.

so when the torans are young, they learn a craft and these skills help them sort of "tap into" the magical realm. so in the case i first thought of, when a toran weaver starts to see and interact with the magical realm, the easiest way for them to engage with it would be to think of it as weaving. they might see the magical realm as threads that connect everything, and weave things together to get what they want. a potter might see it as a malleable mass and sculpt what they want. a carpenter might see it as something to carve, something to break and put together.

the magical realm is not a concrete thing at all, up to interpretation, perhaps a unique experience to anyone who could glimpse in; don't strictly have to be toran, but they are perhaps naturally receptive to it or it could even be entirely a knowledge thing and that they are taught about it more; someone like verity who had her eyes opened to this realm, and learned to interact with it on instinct. does open questions to what the hell is up with the plains lmao but i think thats another post.

__

sorry about all the "i'll tell you in another post" i was attempting to stay on track 😂😂 also there's a 90% chance im gonna forget to come back and write about them so if anyone is dying to know feel free to send me an ask or something???

also if you want to know more about these OCs let me know 👀 i can find an ask game or something maybe. it's a case of i know a lot but will forget it all if asked to speak freely, i need specific questions. i have also developed the first four a bit more, but the last three are not without character so they can still be included. maybe it will be a group effort and they will have Background.

[magical-wishies]

To love or not to love, that is the questio-

Ok whoops wrong reference. Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I made a MV of the song "Darling Dance" by Kairiki Bear featuring my favourite little tricksters for the occasion!

I'd rather you go straight to Youtube to watch it because Tumblr always finds a way to cut the quality, lol.

Eng subtitles are available too!

Here it is! Hope you enjoy my pride and joy. Basically like a hopeful child but in video format. Reblogs are specially appreciated because Youtube sucks at promoting new channels!

This also acts as a behind-the-scenes post, so let's get straight into that, shall we?

MV Project 1 "Darling Dance"

Illustration time: 37 hours

Editing time: Approx. 30-35 hours

Total: 70 hours

*Cough* Holy freakin' moly does making an MV take so long. Before you roll off your bed, I'll say that part of the reason making the art took so long was because I have trouble drawing Marx consistently.

Here's some unused assets! Look at them, they're all salty over not making the cut.

In all seriousness though, a lot of times I don't really see a lot of editors/ MV makers getting appreciation for their efforts. And now that I've personally experienced making an MV for the first time, it's also increased my admiration to the people who dedicate their time to this! All the kudos to them.

Now, I'll go scene by scene then comment along the way! Spoilers ahead!

Verse 1

Pretty good for what it is. In the first image, you see that heart behind Magolor? I discovered the motion of it on complete accident lol. Capcut is hard to figure out..

I also really like the color palette of 2nd image. That art of Marx was the last one I did during production (aka I drew it this morning), and just look at him. He's such a bastard he's the best.

Pre Chorus 1

Mmmm yeah it sure is the pre chorus! I put a bar behind the text in the middle because I didn't want people to stare into their soulless eyes for too long. That probably worked!

1st Chorus

When I first added in the expression change, I fangirled over it a little on the first rewatch. Like, come on! They suddenly look mischievous, and the color change on the background! I know I drew it but still!

For the rest, I experimented a little with all the "Nah"s! I think it ended up well. Most of the lyric editing in this MV is completely original, so I had a couple of things to try out!

Verse 2

This song is horrifically outdated because it says Twitter instead of X!! (/sarcasm)

This scene is my second favourite. I'm really proud of the details on the tabs and the editing at the beginning! Wish I could put more images but the app only allows ten. Bummer.

Pre Chorus 2

I think it's cute, and I used it as my pfp on YouTube! That's about it though.. image limit is killing me I can't put anything here :(

Chorus 2

...Not gonna spoil it! I like how I drew them, but there ain't anything notable. Unless you look at the last image I put right before the bridge. :)

Bridge

This is where my editing comes in freakin' clutch. Ooooooh it's so satisfying to look at. Chef's kiss. Also those Marxs (Marxes?) are really cute.

The second part of the bridge is nice as well! I tried to make the lyrics snap to the rhythm. Glad I added that tv effect in the bg too!

Chorus 3

This scene is my favourite! Wanna know why?

This sequence right here. I think I will etch it into my brain forever... I love me some snappy editing. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot!

The second part of the chorus is like the original song's MV! I loved the hearts popping in and out whoever thought of that is a genius. Putting it into the MV was a good decision!

And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy the MV as much as I enjoyed making it. And, stay tuned for next time! I have a feeling a certain jester is getting his own solo MV...

Feel free to leave your thoughts either in the Youtube comments section or here. See you around!

[dropthedemiurge]

Last Twilight Episode 10 Reaction

I wasn't even going to write my own posts of LT but this episode just delivered punch after punch! I couldn't help but comment, so–

I love to see Jimmy and Mark using their dramatic acting microexpressions attacks on my heart, i'm bleeding but I'm fascinated. Sea has grown a lot and acts so believable, I want to praise him. But damn, maybe it's because I actually remember Jimmy and Mark since Bad Buddy, the contrast is huge here. Jimmy also does that thing with the jaw that makes him look more manly and mature, none of the young and mischeivous Wai, in Vice Versa he also didn't reach this level of complexity, I think we all should bow to P'Aof & team for leading him.

I know I should be talking about Day who isn't crying while his family is devastated (he knew and was prepared and felt comfortable as long as he had Mork, they were not prepared) but I am biased... The way Night didn't even dare to touch Day when he wanted to comfort him at doctor office Т_Т And how later, at the dinner table he looked with such disbelief, and hesitantly started teasing Day as sibling again when Day reached out Т_т And how for months he felt he deserved to be silent, torn apart and uncomfortable, yelled at and judged for not taking care of his brother properly.

Noo, my heart!

But also Day and Mork, of course, the way Day bravely said "The last thing I saw in my life was his face", and Mork said "I'm sorry" and I can understand the mom going "you crossed over all lines with ny son, get out of my house", and it's probably huge red HR violation but Jimmy's big teary eyes aaaaah how could she not fold? I saw some comments on tumblr about the show not calling out her being abusive and everything, but I strongly disagree and I think it all makes sense. The strong single mom, the asian family, the unwanted oppression and self-misery that finally cracked during Christmas dinner – I could probably write my view on this in another post but who cares.

Dhskajvs I love how Porjai and Night are "patpraning" Mork and Day, like they are setting up plans to look like accidents just for two undestined lovebirds to be able to sneak out on a date from the parent who shouldn't know about it, very PatPran behavior xD Only friends are the one making it work xD

That's the face of a man giggling because he just declared himself a father and a future husband on his own (oh their mom is going to have a heart attack but who cares). "That's my child" - look at the sky, this night is so freaking green~ I'd say the real winner of that marathon was Night, Day maybe got a medal and a boyfriend but Night got a girl and a kid! xD His confidence is hot, but also I wouldn't hesitate a second as well if I saw Porjai available to be loved, I mean look at her! What a treasure.

I can't believe I was so on board and rooting for a hetero couple in a BL since the very first second but they are still going too damn strong. I love them. I shall draw a fanart.

Omg, pop-up books shout-out in a BL! First time seeing this. Okay, Day and Mork are freaking cute, I usually lose interest when characters start dating but they are so damn adorable and in their happy bubble here! Smiling and goofy Jimmy is all I need in this economy.

Master Aon is slaying on a dance floor, this actor is honestly stealing the show and I love it for him... I like how he shows being advanced and comfortable as visually impaired person in relationship with a girl that can see, the calling out and gestures and the comfort.

P'Aof and his damn heartwarming community scenes, first with MLC and now here, I knew what I walked in and still wasn't prepared for all the EmOtiOns<3

Promoting Oishii as one of the color paints is very creative but all it makes me think of is a VERY relatable situation with actual artists who put tea cup and water for paint on the same table... Yeah xD

Also, sniff kisses are so cute, fight me, westerns.

Lmao, Day even drew Jimmy's poor 5 o'clock shade above the lips fvsjakjahk I wonder which one of the staffs drew it, or was it actually Sea? No matter what, I bet this person had a lot of fun anyway :D

Okay, THERE ARE MORE SCENES THAT MAKE ME ALMOST CRY Poor Night, he was so unloved and judged in this family for a year, I will actually fight everyone to give him his own special beef stew.

He was going to distance himself out of guilt as a self punishment and feelings of 'the hero is here, the villain should vanish' supported by both people closest to him, but Day insisted he's a family and he should stay, reminding their mother of it… Oh no. So many feelings.

Again, it deserves another post. Where I talk about how Night feels like such a man, a protective adult who changed and is able and actively wants to take care of dear people, but who looks and feels like a small punished kid in his own family house. Day too, btw, but he hasn't found as much confidence as he struggles with blindness as well.

But I loved that family having fun scene. I loved it so much. That family trying out cake eating blindly was so nice, oozing of happiness. The curse of misery deserves to be broken, and the kids are the one breaking it, as usual. Mother should remember what's really important - her and her kids happiness, not control that's led by fear. But it's not easy. This is why this scene is so important, and filled with happy and relieved tears. Tbh I didn't feel like P'Aof glossed over the mother-son conflict, it's just that the narration feels... I don't wanna say more asian, it might be different from the sort of justice/revenge what some of the people wanted to see. I understand it and it hits home.

Oh I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING, P'AOF!

Something tells me in a very loud way that this operation won't go well, look at Sea's face! The scene just screams "I still can't see anything". It would be such a P'Aof type of teaser as well, give hope and then trick into the opposite. I can't imagine him actually getting his vision cured. I'll fight myself if that's what actually happens in the next episode. It's a great way to show that you should just keep enooying life instead of regretting the cure.

[hisokakissmeplz]

Illumi's wife

This is kinda xhisoka but also kinda xIllumi too and fem!reader

slight Nsfw MDI

"Darling." Your husband calls out before entering your shared room. "I'd like you to meet an acquaintance of mine."

Illumi, your husband, had brought his associate and almost friend, Hisoka mainly to show off his precious new wife but also as a chance for you to make connections as he didn't want you feeling trapped or enclosed.

You could hear the taps of his heels before you saw him.

A tall man, taller than Illumi, with bright pinkish red hair and gold eyes. He adorned a red dress shirt and black pants (which were noticably tight and hugged his curves and muscles quite nicely but irrelevant) his shoes were black and shiny with a short heel making him taller than normal.

Illumi stepped towards you, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist.

"Hisoka, this is my wife. Dear this is my partner Hisoka."

Hisoka drew out his hand and you placed yours over it gingerly. He placed a soft kiss on your hand looking up to your eyes while doing so.

"A pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman." His breathe was warm and you could feel a slight chuckled as he released your hand.

You nodded kindly regarding his words.

"Will you accompany us to my office?" Your husband asked.

"If you would like, Lumi."

"Lumi and I would like it very much I assure you." Hisoka responded and you replied with a slightly concerned smile towards your husband.

Illumi's mouth was still slightly agape where he had been interrupted by Hisoka's response.

The three of you set off into the hallway, you walking by Illumi's side and Hisoka walking in front of you.

"Would it be rude if I asked about your marriage?" Hisoka piqued.

"That would depend on what you're asking, Hisoka." Illumi's voice sounded bitter as he almost spat the words.

"Oh well, just where did you meet such a lovely lady and how did you get her to marry someone like yourself ?" Hisoka's voice spat Illumi's bitter tone right back at him.

Illumi huffed. "If you must know, we met through work. My wife here is quite the assailant. As for how I got her to marry me, irrelevant considering you'll never have the need nor the pleasure of asking a lady as fine as my wife."

The way he exaggerated every syllable on 'my wife' showcased his possessive spite.

All their bickering was making you quite uncomfortable so you cleared your throat in attempt to silence them.

"Forgive me love, I seem to have forgotten my manners," Hisoka turned back to look at you emphasizing 'love' to anger Illumi more. "Illumi might we continue our conversation when it will not be at the expense of your wife's sanity?"

"I suppose.* You could tell Illumi was getting more and more aggravated by Hisoka's attitude and mentioning of you.

"Shall we change the subject?" Hisoka turned back to you and you were surprised one of them was finally talking directly to you instead of about you. "Illumi said you were an assassin right? That must give you quite the physique."

"Oh well I suppose, yes." You answered more distracted by the prominent glare Illumi was giving Hisoka. A slight red danced across your cheeks at his voice.

Sultry and alluring. Yet thick like honey and just as sweet.

"Yes, I would imagine also, with such a physically demanding job your stamina is quite impressive too."

"You could say so."

You were curious as to where this conversation was leading but Illumi clearly didn't want to find out.

"Ah yes, then that would naturally lead someone to believe that," there was a long pause between his next words so much so it made your heart beat faster with anticipation. "Your sex life with Illumi must be quite staggering."

"What?" Your gut twisted at his words.

"I was only drawing a conclusion." He shrugged his shoulders as if it was a casual thing to say. "Your wedding night must have been something too, huh? Too highly trained assailants chasing ecstacy for the first time, must of been quite exciting."

His voice lowered more sensually. "Unless, I'm wrong?"

He slowed down now where he was walking directly beside you.

"Does he lack the proper etiquette, is there something you're longing from it? Perhaps he forgets to take your needs into consideration?" He was whispering now, leaning down to speak into your ear.

His hand found your wrist and before you knew it he pinned you against the wall.

"You know I wouldn't mind, per say, filling in for him for your utmost pleasure."

His breath was warm against your ear as it slid lower to your collarbone.

"I promise I'd take my time to care for you better than he ever could."

Quickly you drew the dagger from beneath your dress where it was holstered to your thigh and pressed it against the base of Hisoka's neck. Pressing lightly enough as to not cut him.

"If you make one more rude or distasteful comment towards me or my husband then I won't hesitate slashing your throat." You spat mustering as much venom in your voice despite the familiar warmth in your gut and between your thighs.

Although you cared deeply for Illumi, there was something missing from your sex and you were curious what Hisoka had in mind.

"Hisoka! Perhaps you would join me in the office for a rather serious conversation. Darling, please leave us." Illumi's voice indicated his anger and discomfort with Hisoka's treatment towards you, no doubt something he would apologize for later.

Illumi was still shooting daggers at Hisoka as they walked into the office.

Hisoka shot you a sly smirk before point at his thigh and then disappearing into the room.

You went to holster your dagger again but felt something. You pulled it out and sheathed your dagger taking a closer look at the thing you pulled out of the holster.

It was too playing cards, a joker and a queen of hearts, flipping over one of them there was a phone number and a heart written on it.

Oh, he was gesturing for you to look at your thigh not his. Not that you would mind looking at his thighs or his biceps or his abs, shit you're getting distracted.

You held the cards closely to your chest as you walked up the stairs to your bedroom.

Pt2??? Anyway I hope you like this lmk if I should write more oneshots or stuff yk

[floweyheadcanons]

Some more headcannons and questions coming up! Clover can't dance for the life of them, so Flowey helped them by moving their feet to the right bars on El Baildor's fight. Clover felt indebted to him for doing that, but Flowey just told them it was painful to watch them fail over and over and over again. Flash forward to the Omega Flowey fight, Clover is the last to rebel because they still feel indebted to him. They don't want to leave their best friend alone. They realize that what Flowey is doing isn't justified, but a small part of Flowey, that Clover can feel, is feeling like this is justified, for Chara, for Clover...When Frisk wins, Flowey sees a figure behind Frisk, holding out a hand. He sees Clover with a genuine smile, wanting him to join them with doing justice. But Clover isn't there. Flowey understands and tries to tell Frisk and, by extention, Ghost/Hallucination Clover, that he can't. He doesn't understand why they show care to him after all that. He doesn't understand... Flowey has talked to Papyrus about Clover. He likes to see his reactions to their adventures and everything. Seeing someone adore this child while never knowing them makes him seen like the care he had for them wasn't him being weak, but Clover having that ability on monsters. Flowey like card games. He also likes chess, but card games are his favorite. He's good at them, that's way.

Now here is some for the Gusty Gaggle and Feisty Five, well, one of the Feisty Five at least. So the Gusty Gaggle are all actors in the Ghosty South. I mean, like everyone is am actor there. Flowey plays the role of the murderous Flower monster that is part of a gang, and is the brains, with a human and another monster. Clover plays the leader, and human. Kanako plays the happy monster with a bit of scare to her. They basically play themselves, in the Gusty Gaggle. They are actors but not. Also, Mooch and Flowey are friends. Theif and murderous flower bring friends just makes me happy. Mooch is also Flowey's favorite Festiy 4 member.

Now some questions! Who does Flowey hate more, Ceroba or Alphys, and why? Has Flowey ever became friends with Sans in past resets? Does Flowey feel a sense of belonging with the amagates? Has Dalv ever realized he didn't draw the draws Flowey drew? What's his relationship with Decibat and El Bailador? Who is Flowey's favorite Festiy Four person? Out of Starlo, Axis, Martlet, and Chujin, who does Flowey like and hate the most? What kind of games does Flowey like and dislike? Did Flowey ever watch Chujin, and, by extent, The Wild East and Kestukane's before Clover fell? If so, did he judge Chujin for being an idiot? Why does he feel the need to keep his throwing skills up? And, where would Flowey stay most of the time on the surface? Frisk's town or The Ghosty South?

(AAAA- I LOVE HIM!!! HIM AND ENDOGENY IS SO CUTE!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!! Also, him to Kanako being like, "Hey! Welcome to the children revived club! Don't tell your mother we are here okay? I hate her!" is so funny to me. HE'S SUCH A LITTLE GUY!!!)

those ideas up there are PEAK?! try not to cook challenge (impossible)

i honestly think the idea of the gusty gaggle both acting and not acting at the same time is really cool, it's more like they overblow their personalities, i really like that.

this is the funny headcanon blog so it's time for the questions now!!

1 .Who does Flowey hate more, Ceroba or Alphys, and why?

Flowey hates Ceroba more because at least Alphys changed. And even before that she pretty clearly was tortured by what she'd done, while I don't think it'd be as obvious to Flowey that Ceroba was suffering too. Does not help that Ceroba has also tried to kill Clover.

2. Has Flowey ever became friends with Sans in past resets?

I'm awfully fond of the idea that at one point or another Sans had some sort of big brother-ish relationship with Flowey because he just has that effect on people™ and would rather not fight this nerd, so yeah! I'd actually be surprised if at no point were they on good terms.

3. Does Flowey feel a sense of belonging with the amagates?

Yeah, it makes him feel better to know he's not the only little freak out there... Not the only experiment gone horribly wrong.

4. Has Dalv ever realized he didn't draw the drawings Flowey drew?

He's probably realized a few weren't his because they were a little too bad. Don't blame Flowey ok?? He hasn't had proper hands for a comical amount of time. I think in secret he'd redraw those because they're usually fire ideas, just bad illustration-wise.

5. What's his relationship with Decibat and El Bailador?

Flowey is a little hater, so I think he'd be a big El Bailador anti... Probably follows the guy around with a comical amount of signs that say things like "CANCEL THIS DANCE MANIAC!!!" "THIS BUFFOON MUST BE STOPPED!!!" that all point in his direction but when Baily turns around to look at them they're gone. Decibat, on the other hand gets a pass. I think Flowey would like sleep in Deci's cave because it's nice and quiet... Probably sneaks in Echo Flowers sometimes because he thinks it's funny™.

6. Who is Flowey's favorite Feisty Four member?

I'm indecisive on this one, but it'd probably be Mooch because he can't help but respect a devious little thief. I think in a couple saves he'd probably help her with her little heists!

7. Out of Starlo, Axis, Martlet, and Chujin, who does Flowey like and hate the most?

Chujin: Mostly considers the man a joke, wouldn't say he hates Chujin.

Axis: Bro is on thin ice. Flowey is always very close to destroying that bucket of bolts and considers him very irritating to be around and a needless nuisance.

Starlo: Finds the guy somewhat annoying, but also interesting. Mostly upset with him for attacking Clover and for being so easily excited into doing stupid things. Would probably like him more if he wasn't an idiot.

Martlet: Wants to pluck every feather off her one by one, and hear her scream. Why does she keep INTERVENING??? She's part of that stupid guard, she wants Clover dead, she doesn't get to decide they're important to her. Her existence fills him with rage.

Of them all, I think he hates Martlet the most for trying to steal Clover away, and likes Starlo the most because he IS just a little goober.

8. What kind of games does Flowey like and dislike?

I think he'd like things like puzzle games (they make him feel big brained), RPGs, and first person shooters and shoot em up games (especially if they're combined. he likes feeling tough.)

9. Did Flowey ever watch Chujin, and, by extent, The Wild East and Kestukane's before Clover fell? If so, did he judge Chujin for being an idiot?

He probably judged Chujin very heavily for being an idiot. I think for the most part he probably watched Chujin the most out of the other Ketsukanes (with Ceroba probably being the one he watched the least) because he finds his stupidity very entertaining.

9. Why does he feel the need to keep his throwing skills up?

It's a worry of his because what if he needs to throw something far for one reason or another but he can't? And what if that thing is something so important that it CAN'T just be forgotten about??

10. Where would Flowey stay most of the time on the surface? Frisk's town or The Ghosty South?

He'd probably visit Frisk's town every now and again but I think he'd prefer The Ghosty South as he'd probably feel more at home and able to be his truest self there. Frisk's town is probably just boring to him as well.

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

Cardigan

Sirius Black x reader

warnings: implications of past self destructive thoughts and behaviors BUT nothing specific described, mentions of past mental issues, swearing, consumption of alcohol, underage smoking/drinking. summary: you’ve dealt with everything on your own, but Sirius changes that. Tags: light Angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, hurt/comfort Disclaimer: I am in no way shape or form romanticizing self destructive behaviors or tendencies. It’s something I’ve dealt with for years and am healing from. If you need to talk to someone my messages are always open. Also, English isn’t my first language and this story isn’t proofread, so if you find any mistakes let me know :) Word count: 2k

Lastly, this is a gift to myself for staying clean for almost a year

also on ao3

You drew stars around my scars

You have always been quiet, kept your emotions and thoughts to yourself. Never feeling interesting or important enough to share them, free them. Not even when times were dark and life felt impossible.

You felt hopeless, alone, unloved, that is why you sought out help in the form of something equally dark as the thoughts in your head. That kept going for years, shaping your identity, convincing you that YOU were the problem, the darkness that lived inside your chest was who you were supposed-destined to be, and that is why you never asked for help, never told anyone about your secret.

After sometime, the storm passed, and the sun came out. Realizing that you aren't unworthy of happiness, that you deserve love is a war that you still haven't won. You lose somedays, but you keep fighting. You know now that you owe it to yourself to at least try, try and fight the dark thoughts that sometimes find shelter in your mind.

So the dark days might have passed, but they have left their mark on you. Most days you try to ignore the marks, scars on you, not put much thought into them. Until now. And why is that? Now you have people that care about you, you had them before, but now you feel their love- you let yourself feel their love.

Sirius Black was your exact opposite and almost the same person as you. What you didn't have he did, and what he lacked he found in you. You were his shelter when the storm inside him tore everything apart, he was a blanket poured over you when the days were cold and the fireplace inside you couldn't be lit.

You were each others north star, lighting up the darkest of nights. You don't exactly remember when or how he became important to you.

Maybe it was during a Gryffindor party, he found you outside staring into the nothingness of the night sky seeking refuge in the stars. You were surrounded by your friends, by people you cared about, but you felt so so alone, as if there were glass walls separating you from them, not letting you hear the jokes that made them laugh or the music they danced to.

He offered you a drink and a smoke, you accepted, you still don't know why. He made a joke about something professor Binns had said to you in history class and you responded with a genuine laugh you'd grown to miss. "I didn't think you paid attention to Binns, your eyes are always half closed during history, come to think of it, last week I could've sworn I heard a snore." , you respond and earn a laugh from him.

He shrugs before he answers "I pay attention to you, not Binns." and at that you scoff. He giggles and if the sun was out you'd notice a faint blush over his cheeks, "No, really, you are always drawing something during his classes but somehow are able to pay attention to him. Talent- that", you stare at him now, unable to find the right words to respond.

You shake your head and look forward, taking a long drag of smoke. Turning back to him you say smirking "Careful Black, if I didn't know better I'd be scared you're stalking me.", instead of laughing it off like you'd expected he smiled and said "Darling, maybe I am.", he stood up to get back inside and added "You, sketching me one day, is the only thing keeping me up in class", before leaving you, startled, with a stupid grin that wouldn't leave your face for the rest of the night.

Come to think of it, it might have been an entirely different day. It was late at night, and you were returning to your dorm, after a not so productive study session at the library. As you were walking down the cold corridors, you spotted Sirius Black walking slowly to his dorm, hand in his stomach, quietly cursing to himself.

"Black?", you whispered loudly and after catching his attention, asked "What are you doing up this late? Are you hurt?", "I'm fine", he answered but as he turned to leave you saw him wincing in pain letting out a groan. You rushed to his side and checked his face, black eye and split lip, you removed his hand from his stomach and stared into his grey eyes, silently asking for permission to lift his shirt.

He nodded and as you saw his wound you muttered a curse. "How the hell did this happen?", you asked. "Bloody Malfoy and his friends had it out for me, next time I see him I'll argh...", "Sorry." , you whispered quietly, "Want help getting to Madam Pomfrey?", "Can't, Poppy will have my head, along with Dumbledore and Mcgonagall. Don't worry love, got it covered, I've had my fair share of healing charm practice. I'll figure something out. " , you try not to react to his words and say, "I can help you, let me."

And somehow he did. You dragged him to an empty classroom and he performed a lighting spell for you as you healed him. He paid close attention to you, as you worked. Noticing your moves, calculated- not sloppy like his were when performing these spells, as if you'd had years of practice, which you did, but he didn't know that.

Your face was calm, focused, you didn't look scared or anxious, he liked that about you. How you always kept composed, as if you'd grown shields around you, not letting the darkness of the world harm you. He wished he could also do that. Protect himself from his parents, the purebloods who threatened him and his friends, even his family who constantly expressed their disappointment to him. Disappointed by his friends, beliefs, choices, disappointed by him and who he was.

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, "Sirius, I'm done, how are you feeling?" "Great, you should consider healing, you'll make a proper fortune..", he joked trying to change the subject, lighten the mood. But you asked again, sincere interest written on your face, "Apart from the wound, how are you?"

He grabbed your hand, squeezed lightly and responded with a small smile "Better now, truly." you smiled back and something fluttered inside you, a different feeling arising, but you couldn't understand what is was back then. You walked back to your dorms together and said goodnight to each other, like it was something you'd done millions of times before.

Many memories with Sirius flood your mind, weekends at Hogsmeade, drinking hot chocolate and butterbeer with your friends- spending more and more time together ever since Lily (your best friend) and James started seeing each other-,him making fun of James' obvious infatuation with Lily and you smiling at your best friends constant blushing at the seekers compliments.

Going shopping together, Sirius making an effort in helping you pick out clothes and you making fun at him for that. Ruining your and Remus' study sessions at the library. Jamming out to ABBA, Queen and Bowie. Seeing his face light up after introducing him to Fleetwood Mac. Being partners in Potions, brewing Amortentia together and you trying not to make it obvious that his cologne and leather jacket are the only things that you smell.

It is safe to say that you two had grown very close, he had a special place in your heart, not a friend or crush, something entirely different and unique. And utterly beautiful, just like him.

Going from friends to something more was like a slow reaction sped up by your friends, who'd grown tired of watching you two dance around each other, both scared to act on your feelings- not wanting to lose one another.

It happened as a dare, James dared Remus to kiss you over a game of spin the bottle. You laughed awkwardly and said no, but everyone insisted you'd go on with it, Remus remained quiet giving you and Sirius quick glances.

After taking a sip of Firewhiskey to calm your nerves and closing your eyes you exclaimed "Okay, just get it over with.", Remus slowly got close to you until Sirius stood up and left. James shouted "Oi where are you going?" and Sirius responded with an angry "Out.". The rest of you looked at each other worried and you stood up to check up on him.

You found him taking long strides down the corridors leading to the field and you ran behind after him to catch up, whilst also shouting his name. After getting outside, he stopped abruptly and you having finally caught up to him exhaled deeply.

"Why'd you leave so suddenly?" , you asked, secretly hoping, wishing for the answer you craved. That he was jealous, that he loved you, that he couldn't look at anyone kissing you, couldn't bare the thought of you being touched by anyone but him.

You scoffed at yourself for thinking like that. Imagination getting the better of you, once again. You braced yourself for the answer that'd hurt you "I got bored", or "Needed a smoke", prepared yourself for disappointment. But he said, "You know why."

And you gulped, you needed him to say it, not trusting yourself. You opened your mouth, but what came out was the repetition of "don't know" and "Sirius" and "I". You couldn't stop, nerves controlling you now, so Sirius did the one thing he thought would help, while also wishing he hadn't read you wrong all those months, he kissed you.

At first you were shocked and didn't respond, not until he pulled back, Now he was nervous and blabbering "I'm sorrys". You just grabbed him by his shirt and crashed your mouth on his, eyes finally closed, hands sliding around his neck and hair, you were kissing Sirius Black. And he was kissing you back!

Time stopped and everything felt unreal. After a few moments, not really wanting to separate from each other, you both took a step back, and there you stood, with Sirius' hands not letting go of your waist and both of you smiling at each other before you heard shouts and laughs from a few feet behind and Marlene’s voice screaming "I told you it would work!".

And all that takes us to the present. After kissing Sirius, you two have grown more and more close. Currently you are in the Gryffindor common room, alone and sprawled out on a couch near the fireplace. Sirius on top of you humming, as you run your hands through his hair with one hand and hold your book with the other.

You aren't able to focus on the story you're reading, your mind constantly reminding you of the past Sirius will find out sooner or later, the awkward conversation you'll eventually need to have and the vulnerability you have no experience with. Sirius calls your name and snaps you out of your thoughts,"What is going on up there?"

You look at him nervously, not knowing how to open up, how to talk to him about this. "I..." you say and sigh again, closing your eyes, he sits up and you follow him, now playing with your hands. "I don't know how to talk to you about this, I don't really know how to talk to anyone about it really".

He grabs your hand and caresses your cheek "Talk to me whenever you're ready, I'll always listen. I'm here and I don't ever plan on leaving." You smile awkwardly, tears gathered in your eyes but not able to flow down your cheeks. "Nothing you say to me can change the way I think of you."

You look into his eyes and know he is telling the truth; you've never been more thankful for him, you trust him and he knows that too. That is why when you open your mouth you tell him everything.

Everything you've kept inside all those years, the things you've had to deal with, the things you did to survive. He stays true to his word, he doesn't see you as weak or pathetic, his hand stays in yours as you talk, his grip stronger now, afraid you'll somehow disappear.

He holds you close when you start crying, muffled apologies whispered in your hair, along with "im with you"s, "im proud of you"s. You stay like that for a while, curled up in each other, kisses placed on your hair and forehead, your hands locked around his back , eyes closed. Letting it all out being the most exhausting thing you've ever had to do, but you’re relieved.

You watch as the sun comes out and know that everything will be okay.

[braveclementine]

And Life Goes On

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

The song for the wedding ⬆️(Try not to cry) 🥹

🎃 :::::  🧡   ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   🧡  ::::: 🎃

"I hereby declare the three of you, husbands and wife." The priest at the front of the altar said and you watched as Steve and then Bucky drew Elizabeth into a kiss. You smiled, biting your finger as you cried.

"Hey." Tony whispered in your ear as he clapped, "So, as her best friend, you need to draw all of the juicy little details of their sex life out of her, so I can tease Cap about it during work, okay?"

You giggled nervously, bouncing Arlo on your knee, while wiping away a tear. "I don't want to become magical shish kabob."

Tony held out his hand. "Come on, hand Arlo over to Natasha and give me a dance."

You did just that, letting Natasha hold Arlo where she was sitting with Clint, Laura, and the kids. Both women were on either side of Clint, the three of them just sort've snuggled up together.

Elizabeth was blushing as her two new husbands twirled her between them on the dance floor. She was wearing a pale pink dress that nearly looked white, but wasn't quite. It had long sleeves despite the warm summer, because she had been afraid that her arm would clash with the colouring.

You took Tony's hand and he led you out onto the dance floor. Both hands on your waist, and you put both of your arms around his neck. You were so glad you'd worn heels for this.

"I can't dance." You said after stepping around for a bit, cheeks fiery red. Tony was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're adorable."

"Shut up."

"What?" Tony asked, "You know bunnies are very graceful animals. Clearly, it's come over to you as a human."

You snorted, "You thought I was graceful as a rabbit?"

"Naturally."

"Okay you did see me on your paneled wood floors right? Every time I tried running on that surface I'd crash face first into your kitchen cabinets. And don't even get me started on the marble. You just didn't see it."

Tony grinned, "You know, I think I'm going to marry you again."

You raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you now?"

"Yep." Tony said. "There's people who get remarried for anniversary's, right? Nah, who cares, I'm doing it even if others don't."

You shook your head in amusement. "Ah, so you like what you see so much you'd marry it a second time."

Tony scoffed, "Is that even an actual question?"

"Also, for like, people's fiftieth anniversary." You laughed.

"We're getting close to that amount of time, right?" Tony asked, peering at you. "I think I can see some wrinkles."

You smacked his arm playfully. "Better than you, Mr. I got gray hair now."

"And I look dashing." He said in a pompous, almost British way of speaking.

"Well, hard to argue with that." You smiled.

After a few dances, the two of you grabbed some cake, sitting with Bucky and Sam who were playfully arguing. You watched as Steve and Elizabeth danced in their own world, their foreheads pressed against each other, both of them with their eyes closed. Some old song was playing, echoing around the venue.

[Play Song]

*Cue Steve and Peggy endgame scene but replace Peggy with Elizabeth obviously*

You smiled a little as Steve opened his eyes, looking down at her, before kissing her. But the spell was broken- for you at least- as Sam roared with laughter and you turned your attention back to the table.

Eventually, it went from being a large venue with people that Steve, Bucky, and Elizabeth knew, to mostly being just some of the Avengers.

Rhodey, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Bucky, Tony, Sam, yourself, Elizabeth, and Thor- who was looking a hell of a lot better.

You were all chatting sort've off handedly before Clint asked, "So um, has anyone heard from Wanda?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "No she's off radar."

You noticed Elizabeth was fiddling with her napkin. She probably knew and wasn't saying a word.

"Maybe she went home. . . or the closest she could get to home." Rhodey shrugged.

"Elizabeth?" You asked.

Elizabeth sighed, "She uh, she's in New Jersey."

Everyone looked at her, "Doing what?" Clint asked.

"Vision um was looking for houses and gave her an address there for where they were going to move and possibly have a family." Elizabeth muttered. "I think she really just wants to start over."

"Okay hold up, how do you know all of this. I couldn't even find her." Tony frowned.

"There is um, this Government-"

"Here we go." Steve muttered.

"-organization called S.W.O.R.D." Elizabeth finished, playing with her fingers. You immediately felt bad for putting the attention on her, on her wedding night. "I went with her to the building because apparently they took Visions' body after the snap."

"Wait, they did?" Tony asked sharply, angrily. "He's my property!"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Anyways, Wanda was a mess and when the two of us left, she said she was going to a house Vision left her."

It was silent for a moment and you saw Tony tapping on his tablet. "Tony." You groaned.

"Well that's interesting." Tony muttered.

"What?" Natasha asked.

Tony flicked the screen to show the video that he had pulled up. It showed Wanda going all Scarlet Witch style, stealing Visions body. Then Elizabeth- though it didn't show her face- running after her as though helping her.

"Oh hell no." Bucky growled.

"Well, this looks like a lot of fun." Rhodey said.

"Hey." Steve said, putting an arm around Elizabeth's shoulder, looking at the rest of them, "At least with this new problem, all of the Avengers will be together to solve it."

"Oh yeah." Tony smirked, "I did tell you guys the Accords are gone, right? No one wants them anymore. We're all free to be a team."

"Oh for sure." A new voice said, making you all jump. You turned to see Nick Fury there, with Carol on one side of him and Maria on the other.

"Hey Nick." Elizabeth called over casually.

"Congratulations Mrs. Barnes-Rogers." Fury greeted her, then looked around at the others. "So, you still want to be the Avengers?"

"Don't need your permission." Tony laughed, flipping the video off the table, tucking his tablet into his pocket.

"True." Fury smirked, "But it's given to you anyways. I trust you know what to do with that. And you don't have to worry about Maximoff. Although, Y/N, I'm actually here to talk to you."

"Yeah, sure." You said, getting up and heading outside of the venue with the Director. It felt like you'd known him forever. You'd met him as a rabbit, he'd given you somewhere to have your kids. He'd protected all of you, had even died for all of you. He was like the father of the Avengers in a weird way.

"So," Fury said, pulling out a small folder, giving it to you. "Your parents are out. You want me to put some injunctions against them seeing you?"

You were silent for a moment. You looked at him. "Fury. I have faced Obadiah Stane, Justin Hammer, a guy who had liquid fire in his veins, Chitauri, Loki, HYDRA, being on the run, an Avengers Civil War, being on the run again, almost being raped by a guy who looked like burnt chicken, Thanos, and Thanos again. I don't think two measly little sixty year olds who just got out of jail scare me anymore."

Fury nodded, looking like he was almost smiling. "Glad to hear it Agent Stark. For a moment, I almost thought you might've lost your training."

You punched his shoulder lightly. "Are you staying for dessert?"

"Nah. Carol is heading back to space tomorrow so Maria and I are going to be spending as much time with her as possible." Fury said with another small smile. "Or who knows. . . maybe I'll go to space too. You've all been after all."

You laughed at that and nodded, "Alright then. See you around Fury."

You headed back inside and sat down next to Tony. "There's something I want to do."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

You knocked on the door of the house that your parents lived in now. Tony and you had flown back to Nevada for a quick visit. There were some things you needed to say and do. Tony waited in the car on the street anxiously. The door was opened and you saw that it was your mother.

"Y/N." She said softly.

"Mom." You said sharply.

The two of you stared at each other, then you walked through the door. Your father was in the living room, watching TV and you snapped it off.

Your father looked up at you and then scowled. "So, you have the nerve to return here after I was so kind to let you-"

"Well," You interrupted him, "I'm glad you think you were kind. Because you weren't. And I'm not back here to stay. This is the last time I will be seeing you. But there are things I never got to say, and I'm going to say them now."

You looked at both of them, "Firstly, you were shit parents. I may never know why you hated me, why you favored my brother over me, but you were shit parents. And not even just from the beatings." You glared at your father, "Or the attempted rape."

Your mother looked at your father and you wondered if she hadn't known.

"You were just shit parents in general. Not a single crumb of love was ever given to me unless it was for show and that damaged me growing up. Made me insecure, made me pathetic. But I got what I was looking for and now I'm better than you ever thought I was going to be, aren't I? I'm married to Tony Stark now, I'm an Avenger, and guess what: I'm no longer scared of you."

"I'm no longer the little girl that cowered under the two of you. Hell, I even have a pretty cordial relationship with my brother." You looked at the both of them again. "I hope you two change. I hope you two stop being the terrible, horrible people that you are and maybe live out your last days in some semblance of happiness."

You headed for the door when your mother said, "I couldn't. . . I couldn't love you."

You stopped, looking at her.

She looked down at the ground, "You weren't mine. Aren't. . . mine." She glanced over, "Your father slept with one of the women down the street. Got her pregnant. Her husband agreed not to divorce her if she gave the baby away so we were landed with you."

You grew cold at that, realizing that someone had watched you grow up here, knowing you were actually theirs. "Who?"

You mother looked up and you looked at them, "Which mother?"

"Don't." Your father growled.

"No, it's fine." You said suddenly. "Tony can just run DNA tests."

Your mother sighed, "Sherry Lightwood."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

"Bleh." Elizabeth groaned as the two of you sat in the park, watching all of your kids running around. Well, most of your kids. Steve, Bucky, Sam, Stephen, and Tony sat off to the side, holding the little two year olds. "Yuck. My mother and your father? No wonder you're so ugly."

You punched her shoulder. Hard. She didn't wince and you cradled your fingers, forgetting her arm was now Vibranium. She flicked her fingers as you and your own fingers stopped hurting as turquoise swirled around them. "Stupid."

This time you tased her in the side with two fingers. And this time she yelped, falling over, clutching her side. "I've been stabbed! Stabbed I say." She cried out dramatically, the two of you starting to wrestle.

"Don't hurt her Y/N." Tony called out lazily.

Steve just snorted.

"Bucky save me." Elizabeth cried dramatically and the metal armed super soldier picked her up in his arms, sitting down with her in his lap. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at you. You narrowed her eyes at her, flipping her off.

"Children," Stephen chastised, which made Sam and Tony laugh.

Elizabeth just curled up into Bucky, eventually falling asleep. Steve took her from Bucky so he could hold her while she slept.

"How is she really doing?" Tony asked.

"She's good, really." Steve nodded a little. "Still getting used to the arm a little bit, but other than that, she's good."

Bucky chuckled about something that he didn't elaborate on and Sam shot him a glance with narrowed eyes, "What?"

"Oh. . ." Bucky said. "Steve just really-"

Steve clapped a hand over Bucky's mouth, glaring at him, "There are kids around. And Stark doesn't need that sort of fuel."

"Oh yes." Tony waggled his eyebrows, "Details please. What's the sex life like?"

You slapped a hand to your face, "Tony!"

You all continued to talk before you yourself was laying your head in Tony's lap, watching Everleigh and Astrid run across the green grass, flying kites together. It was such a peaceful day. Sure, there would be problems along the way.

They'd have to solve this new S.W.O.R.D. vs. Wanda problem. There would be problems all over the place with new super soldiers and other kinds of missions.

But this sort of peaceful life would continue as well to be navigated.

Because life goes on, no matter what.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Short Prompt # 8

TW: Blood, violence, knife, threats, death mention, bruises

Hero's fist collides harshly with Villain's cheekbone, lining it with deep purple bruises. They slam them into the building behind them, the force of the impact enough to draw a sharp gasp out of the villain's throat and to let a smirk dance across the hero's visage.

The criminal doesn't relent; however, aiming a kick to the crime-fighter's shins that missed only very narrowly. A hissed curse escapes their lips as the crime-stopper punches their nose, drawing blood.

They press the glinting blade of a knife to Villain's neck, kicking their legs back so that they are flush against the wall, still trying their hardest to escape, movement incredibly limited by their adversary's weapon against their carotid artery.

"Look at you still fighting. You're beautiful," the hero croons, voice soft enough, but with a promise of danger lacing it, sending a shiver up the villain's spine.

"I'm covered in blood and dirt. All your doing," they snap, trying to keep their composure, still refusing to cave in.

"Mhm, and yet you still shine like the stars." They tilt their enemy's chin up with a gloved hand, staring straight into their eyes, leaning with their weight against the wall, posture relaxed enough to be downright lazy. It makes them look like a damned fool, though they are anything but.

"What do you want?" Villain hisses, trying to keep the breathlessness out of their voice. They're terrified of whatever the hero's answer might be, if they were casually threatening to slit their throat like it was nothing.

"Two things, dove. A bit of information only you can find, and I want you to be my partner at an event that requires one to avoid suspicion. A fake date, if you will."

The villain arches a questioning brow. "The information, I can understand. But why do you want me to be your supposed 'date'?"

"Well," the hero replies listlessly, "for one thing, you look the part. You're striking enough covered in grime and bruises. I think you'd clean up nicely, doll."

Their tone was offhand, maybe even a little flippant, like they didn't care much if Villain was flattered or not. Like stating a fact. And the criminal doesn't know why that leaves an irritating tightness in their chest, why it makes them bite their lip till it drew blood.

"That's not the only reason."

At that, Hero gives them a soft chuckle. "Correct. Clever. It's because you're oh so good at playing make-believe. You've hidden your fear of me so efficiently, wrapped it up beautifully. I'd eat it up, you know, if I couldn't feel your pulse hammering like that. My targets are not so astute, thankfully. So, they'd buy into your pretences pretty easily."

"Right. And what makes you think I'd stay loyal? I have to agree with a bloody knife pressed to my neck, anyway," they counter, meeting the hero's eyes, gaze sharp and ablaze with an eternally raging fire.

"I was just trying to catch you off-guard. Killing you would be such a waste. And you're right, I want you to be loyal. So, I'm not forcing you to do this, but if you do agree, you'll do it well. Though, I'm not willing to take a giant leap of faith. You should know not to even think about betraying me, sweetness." They press the knife just a little deeper, letting a thin stripe of crimson snake down their nemesis's neck. Featherlight. Teasing.

"You're a hero. You wouldn't," they choke out, breath growing shallower.

Hero laughs. Genuine and musical, ringing against Villain's eardrums. "I didn't think it was in a villain's attitude to depend on a hero's better nature. You don't believe in such 'fantasies'. That's what you told me, dear," they purr lazily, letting the gloved fingers of their free hand tuck a stray curl of the villain's ruddy locks behind their ear.

"And besides," the crime-fighter continues, "you're not doing this for free. I can be a little distracted from your criminal activities, and I'll keep the other villains out of your way."

"Isn't that illegal?" Villain's eyes widen, and the muscles of their face work to form a somewhat disbelieving expression.

"It's for the greater good. A worthy sacrifice," Hero shrugs.

"Alright. I accept."

The hero flashes them a radiant grin, lowering their weapon. "Perfect."

"Let's get you fixed up." Hero wraps an arm around Villain's waist, pressing them close against their side.

At the startled expression on the criminal's face, the crime-stopper smirks almost cruelly. "If we're going to sell this lie to other people, you're going to have to get used to this, love."

The evil-doer nods sharply.

It is almost like jumping into a garden of roses set ablaze by ruthless flames. Where the sweet, intoxicating scent of the nectar mixes in with the dark smoke, to produce something as wondrously alluring as magic but as deadly as a merciless poison.

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[abbeyofcyn]

when do you work on your comics, and how? i want to start making ones based on my fics, but i either cant find time or just cant draw what im thinking of. does the pro have any tips? thanks!

Since I have time off from work right now I draw my comics whenever during the day or even late at night.

When I do work I draw while on the train or after work in the evening or on my days off.

So... every waking hour? 😅 it's how I cope.

I didn't draw for over 2 years and what helped me was to force myself to plan in 30 minutes every day to draw. It was difficult for weeks on end and I often skipped or only drew a sketchy face but now it feels almost unnatural to not draw daily.

I draw on my Samsung tablet using medibang paint. I definitely prefer to draw on my pc with my tablet and clip studio but I don't like my chair and want to be horizontal as much as possible in bed or on the couch.

If I can't draw what I'm thinking of because I lack the skills I usually go on Google or Pinterest to find some references or inspiration and frankenstein them together in a sketch so I end up with something that I'm okay with. Sometimes I simply accept that I'm not skilled enough yet and just draw something that's close enough to the image in my head.

If I don't know what to draw but want to draw I give myself a challenge (like the plushies one or expression and palette one) or think of a theme (like dancing)

For some odd reason tumblr has helped me deal with perfectionism because as soon as you post something with a mistake and someone reblogs it, it won't change if I edit my post. It was painful at first, but now I'm kind of strangely okay with it and will only squint my eyes and shake my head at any language or art mistakes.

Personally I believe that feedback is the best way to help you achieve your goals so if you can find a buddy to give you some new insights I'd highly recommend that.

Ok I'm not sure if you can follow my ramblings, but I hope it helped!