#stay tuned for the reject drawing!!

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an introverted MC

Julian

To this guy, being alone is cruel and unusual punishment, so the first few times you give yourself some alone time he freaks out

Did he make you mad? Did he say something to hurt you? Are you bored with him?

His solution is to glue himself to your side and pull out every charming trick he can think of

Look, he can swordfight! Look, he can sing! Look, he reads big books full of obscure medical terms! Please don't shut him out!

Needless to say this gets irritating after a bit

Once you sit him down and get to the bottom of why he's acting so weird you're able to explain

He's much more understanding now

You'll still need to be very blunt though: "Julian. I love you very much. For the sake of my sanity I am going to spent the next few hours in this room. By myself."

After a few instances of this it's able to settle in his mind that you needing alone time isn't a rejection, so now he takes these opportunities to go get himself in trouble so he has a dashing story to tell you about later

Asra

They've known this already, they've known you further back than your memories go and they spent at least a year being your caretaker

He's also an introvert so this works out great

Loves sitting quietly on opposite ends of the room, dozing and daydreaming and mentally fine tuning a spell or two while you do your thing

If they feel like being around people when you don't they'll leave Faust with you and go exploring

Never stays away for too long, now that he knows what he gets to come back to

Alone time is a lot harder to get when you're traveling though, so they will happily take a day with you to hole up in some B&B or camp out in whatever nature you're passing through

After the events of that disastrous masquerade, you have a lot more friends than you did before and more reasons to be social

So if you're in the mood for human interaction and he isn't, he doesn't feel nearly as guilty taking some time to himself if he knows you'll take that as a chance to pay some visits

Nadia

What else did you think her thinking tower was for? She gets it

As dedicated to you as she is, she's able to pick up your inclinations pretty quickly

She makes sure you have your own chambers next to hers at the palace to use as you see fit

Not that you aren't welcome in hers! But she likes having her tower so much she figured you should have something like that too

Has secret passages installed with a little magical help from your chambers to several important places

Those places are the library, the kitchen, the gardens, and her private bath

Sometimes if it feels like a while since she's seen you, she'll send Chandra with a little love note to check in

If she needs alone space while you're feeling chatty, no worries there. The palace is packed with people

Now that her family visits regularly, you're able to get to know them while she's occupied and learn more about her

Every now and then she'll come downstairs after a quiet afternoon and find you in the drawing room with one of her sisters, sharing the things about her you love most

She'll be blushing for the rest of the evening

Muriel

King of the introverts

If you need a day to yourself, the hut is yours while he goes about his daily routine

The chances of him wanting to be social when you don't are highly, highly unlikely

In fact, unless you are also as extremely introverted as he is, you are more likely to need more company than what he can comfortably provide

Going into town isn't always the best solution either, because after half of Vesuvia camped around his hut for a month everyone recognizes you

Thankfully Nadia built a back entrance into the palace gardens from the forest in case either of you wants to visit

And you have a very convenient glamor spell for when you need to stop by the shop

You always pick up pumpkin bread and something new to sample on your way back

Inanna especially loves it if you bring her a treat or two

It's also not uncommon for somebody to stop by the hut for old time's sake, to invite you to a wedding or birthday or just to check in with a gift

Portia

Oh boy, she does not get it at all

Like in her mind she knows some people are just like that, Nadia's quite the introvert too, but she cannot relate

Mostly she'll just be worried that you're losing your happiness. Everything about being around people brings her joy, why don't you want to have fun??

She loves you though, so she'll leave you in the cottage or garden for a morning with some pastries and a book recommendation while she catches up on palace gossip

If you're traveling it'll look similar, she'll make sure you're set up for a comfortable few hours while she does her ambassador stuff

She draws people to her without thinking about it, she'll never be without company

You're still her favorite company though, so she'll pop her head in pretty regularly to see if you're recharged enough to hang out

She'll also let you know every single place she's going to be in so you can come find her as soon as you're ready

Her smile when you do will light up the room

Lucio

In case it wasn't obvious from the amount of parties he likes to throw, he is an extrovert

Half the time, if he's caught up in something, he doesn't notice if you take a few hours to yourself

The other half the time, he's very concerned and slightly hurt

Why wouldn't you want to spend time with him? What do you mean you want to be alone? Being alone is the worst! You prefer being alone to being around him?!?

You do try to explain it to him, and he does do his best to understand, but the concept is so foreign it just doesn't make sense

Your best bet is to suggest an activity that he enjoys and tell him that you're tired and you're going to rest while he does that (which is basically true)

This actually works really well for the most part

Sometimes something will remind him of you or he'll get bored quickly and come bursting into your quiet space when you least expect it

You can try suggesting a quiet activity, but most likely that's going to be all you get until he finds something else to enjoy that doesn't require your participation

[chthonicgodling]

and now… (THE NEXT) ELYSIUM DRAMA UPDATE

continued directly from page 1 HERE, now it’s pages 2-11!!

[in this current saga; you are: one • two • three • four • here • six • seven • eight • nine • ten • eleven • twelve • thirteen • fourteen (the end!) ]

featuring: EeL’s menagerie of intimidating children, + Tory & Maci who have gone to them for help and,

…….😦

oh. Oh no.

RECAP: TaKi Fuego, a delightfully secretive ménage à trois of Tory ‘n’ ELoki ‘n’ Maci, that’s maaaaaybe extended a bit 💞mushier past the typical Elysium hookups if you squint, ending up with EeL pregnant but all well and good — until he freaked out and vanished on them.

•Behold our Canon Convo scene as Maci and Tory turn to his kids for help locating him and. UHHH HAHHA ALT TITLE, TORY AND MACI GET EVISCERATED BY PRETEENS?!?!! WELP…!!!! THIS WENT…. BAD!!!

•First and foremost as ALWAYS a crucial and special thanks to Elysium’s better half the hiatus’d @fenixethekid , who’s responsible for Tory and all this wonderful orange dialogue. I am every other unhinged wacko in this room being thrown at him + Maci having a literal meltdown at his side. Tory Tory Tory I love you. We’ll get your precious pet back don’t worry W.,,, we hope

• EeL’s children are ingrained with Trust Issues + a sense of cutthroat diehard loyalty to him, which is not something he’s cultivated on PURPOSE it’s just what happens naturally when being A Child of Loki DOES actually make you an enemy of the public, as it did long ago on Asgard with real consequences. Despite the safety of Elysium, the generational trauma has been passed down across the whole family and uh, gestures WELL. Hhhere we are! SORRY TORY AND MACI!! One day the kids will realize you desperately love their Parent too!!! today is… nnOt that day.

• AND SO, REELING FROM SHOCK OF HOW VICIOUS THIS REJECTION WAS, MACI AND TORY RETREAT, LOKI STILL MISSING - what happens next?!! STAY TUNED!!

• I am sorry about that one cop out page, but I have SO Much else planned to draw next for this saga of events. The next updates might Uh. be a while I. still have to draw them. fgkfkgkgk bear with me. but enjoy PWEASE! the next parts will come as soon as I can get ‘em together.

xoxo ty for readingggg g gg

[anakinsgirlfriendreal]

Parts Of The Truth

Chapter Eight

Warnings: 18+, foul language, maybe some misspelling, infidelity, angst, family issues, discussions of pregnancy and abortion, honestly can't think of anything else lmk.

Padme, placed the phone back in her purse, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, she smiled at the couple across the table. Old friends from Anakin's college days.

"He's on his way, lost track of time with work," she excuses her husband's lateness.

"Oh, so he hasn't changed at all," Owen laughs.

His wife leans into him, "I'd hope he has, from what I remember he was quite a ladies man."

Padme laughs awkwardly, sucking in as much air as her lungs can take and breathing out again, "maybe we should order drinks." She beckons the waiter.

Fifteen minutes later Anakin finally arrives, kissing Padme's cheek and greeting his friends. She smiles when he sits next to her, his hand on her leg. Her face falls when she smells it; when she smells her, the smell of fresh roses and ocean breeze, a combination that could make anyone happy made her sick. Her mind tuned out the voices around her, the music playing in the restaurant, the laughter of their friends just background noise as her eyes zero in on his appearance, noticing every detail, the small wrinkles in his suit, the way he smelled, the way his hair was a little messy. Her breathing got heavy and she felt her heart beating in her ears. She stood up suddenly drawing attention from the trio around her. "Uh, sorry, I just- I need to use the bathroom," she excuses herself.

He looks up at her, "What's the matter love?" He asks his eyes soft. She shook her head, smiling.

"Maybe I should've stayed light on the margaritas, I'll be back." She walks away from the table and further into the bistro where the bathroom was.

Locking the door, she tried to calm herself down, gripping the sink, he felt her tears fall, she tried to compose herself, she lets out a small sob. Lately she'd been crying a lot; every time he came home smelling like roses, like the freshness of the ocean, every time he came home with his suit wrinkled or his hair disheveled claiming he was just stressed at work and got a bit comfortable, every time he'd reject her because he wasn't in the mood, every time he'd yell at her for pushing the idea of adoption or every time he didn't come home and didn't call to say where he was or if he was okay.

She dried her tears, reaching for her phone in her purse, finding your number.

You groan, reaching for your phone on the coffee table, pausing your show, you couldn't sleep so you decided to melt your brain with whatever garbage was trending, and the interruption was highly unwelcomed. Your mood lightened when you realized it was Padme.

"Padme hey" you smile as of she could see you over the phone, your mood dampens when you hear her voice, she sounded so sad.

"Hey, I just- I don't know why I called I don't know what's wrong with me I just needed to talk."

"okay, okay what's the matter"

"We're- we're at a restaurant right now, and and he was late and I just knew I just knew that he was with her and when he hugged me I could smell her and I just don't know if I can do this anymore" she cries.

You swallow the lump in your throat, if hell exists you were definitely leading the line there. "Padme I'm so sorry." It's all you could ever say.

"I feel so stupid," you can hear her sniffles "Ugh men don't you just wanna punch 'em right in their stupid perfect faces." She chuckles humorlessly.

"Well I know that feeling," you snicker.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted it's just nice to chat you know, I don't mean to burden you but you're like the only friend I have that gives a shit."

Your stomach twists into knots, "You don't burden me Padme."

You can almost hear her smile and you know it's sad, "thanks, alright well, I'm gonna splash some water on my fav and get back out there. Tell Darcy I say good night." She hangs up.

You put the phone down, running a hand over your face.

"You are so fucked up," Grace laughs.

You look at her warily, an annoyed expression on your face. "Grace."

"Relax, I got your back, secret's safe with me." She drags her fingers over her lips like a zip.

The next few weeks were nothing short of horrible, you now remembered why you and Grace never got along. She was constantly on your back about Anakin, walking around the house like she owned it, telling Darcy things she shouldn't know. You were going insane. Your mother was smart to ship her to you instead of dealing with her difficult personality on her own.

On top of all that you were sick; throwing up, constantly nauseous type of sick.

"Maybe you're pregnant" Ahsoka says, hands under her chin as she stared at you with raised brows.

You scoff, you hadn't even considered that. "Don't even joke."

She shrugs, "I'm just saying, this is exactly how you were when Darcy was cooking."

"I'm not pregnant okay, that's- actually not crazy" you shake your head, "fuck"

"is how you ended up here" Ahsoka quipped.

You chuckled, "that's pretty good."

She was about to respond when she's interrupted.

"Y/n." Padme approaches you, swiftly. Ahsoka's brows raised, you had told her of your new friendship, she thought you were stupid for that of course she was right.

"I thought I'd find you here, it's five soon, I thought we could do drinks" Padme turns to Ahsoka, "you're welcome to join."

Ahsoka smiles, "I would love to."

Padme claps, "Great, I could use the strongest...whatever they've got."

You sat at the bar with Padme and Ahsoka, shaking your head as Ahsoka took in all Padme's relationship drama. "I don't know, it's not like I've caught him right, but I know that he's cheating." Padme shakes her head, sipping her drink, "I can smell her on him as soon as he walks through the door." She turns to you, "Hey why aren't you drinking, we should get you a drink," she looks for the bartender. Her words were already slurred and you could tell she was tipsy.

"oh she can't drink" Ahsoka says.

Padme looks between you two, "well why the hell not" her eyes scan your face and then soften when she realizes, "oh, you're pregnant, honey that's amazing, congratulations."

You put your hand up, "well I'm not sure, I haven't taken a test."

Padme smiles, "oh, oh well then we're gonna buy one and do it right now!"

Ahsoka, who was also tipsy, nods along enthusiastically. "I LOVE THAT IDEA," she yells in your faces. Padme claps and calls over the bartender to pay the bill.

That's how you ended here, sitting in the stall of a drug store bathroom, peeing on a stick while Ahsoka and Padme laid on the floor peeping up at you.

"You guys are so weird"

"We love you" Padme says and you feel sick again.

You pick your cuticles waiting for the five minutes to be up, longest wait of your life. When the timer on your phone rings, Padme picks up the stick, staring at you excitedly, almost like she was the one pregnant.

"It's positive!"

You hit your head against the wall.

Padme frowns, "Oh come on this good right? Darcy will have another sibling, you'll have another baby- unless..."

You shake your head, "I can't keep it."

Ahsoka pouts, hugging you, letting your tears wet her sleeve. "Hey hey it's okay, that's your decision."

Padme sighs, in her mind she couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to keep a baby, but that's because she struggled so much to even keep a pregnancy, she pushes her own feelings aside.

You hold your head in your hands, "I don't know what I'm doing." You confess. "I can't have another baby, what am I even thinking"

Ahsoka rubs your back, Padme looks in thought, "what about the father? He can support you, whoever he is. I don't mean to pry."

You shake your head, "he's-it's complicated." You almost out yourself. "He's travelling for work, his career is at it's peak, we just can't afford to have another baby." You cover up. Ahsoka is silent, she knew; of course she did, you always tell her everything.

Padme nods, taking your hand, "Well you have us, whatever you decide we'll be right here with you" she smiles, god you hate yourself. "Also if you decide not to keep it, at least you won't have to rip your vagina all over again, that's good right." It makes you laugh.

"Yeah that's something."

[lenialenient]

REAL JOBS (the novel) COMING IN OCTOBER

Okay, here we are, it’s official. REAL JOBS, aka gay artist apartment novel, is gonna be OUT in the world this fall. I’m beyond excited (and terrified!) for people to read this very, very, very vulnerable story and meet the freaks that have been living in my head for a good 5 years.

Promo artwork done by the fantastic @cupidle here on Tumblr and on the site formerly known as Twitter. Robin really hit it out of the park!!

Julia gives TED-Talks in the shower and is on that 5-to-5 grindset to, step one, become the biggest fantasy author since Tolkien and, step two, quit her job at Subway. Unfortunately, no one actually thinks her writing is any good, and the rejections keep piling up. No problem - she just has to work harder, and if she grinds herself to dust in the process, that just proves that she really cares.

Hayal is an art school drop-out who lives Julia’s dream of making art for a living by spending 12 hours a day drawing away on commissions and the other 12 hours sleeping. When her ex-girlfriend – lost during the same depression episode as her art school spot – drops back into her life with an unofficial intervention, it becomes harder to keep ignoring the fact that art hasn’t been fun in a while.

Kiwi is the lead guitarist of the world’s first and only post-progressive-pseudoglam-queercore-band. He’s loud and eccentric in theory – in practice he’s scared of the public, his mother, his own art, and of doubtlessly embarrassing himself with his stupid lyrics should he ever dare to go on stage, which is unfortunate, because his bandmates – neglecting to tell him – have already set up a gig.

In addition to trying to make art under late capitalism, the three of them have to grapple with the almost as troubling reality that they’re all each other’s roommates.  

What's next? Stay tuned for:

A cover reveal

A pre-order campaign

A countdown to release with snippets, excerpts and maybe the first couple chapters for your perusal

My attempt to build an internet presence

And thank you for your support!

[utterentropy]

This is Blood Moon, the result of Heart and Soul fusing without Mind.

More details below.

What happens when you combine utter, unbridled emotion with sheer irrationality?

Not all too proud of this (it didn't come out how I hoped it would) but here you are, a Heart-Soul fusion called Blood Moon that is actively rejecting itself as it's missing a part of the puzzle.

His emotions are EXTREMELY exemplified and he is INCREDIBLY desperate to remain in the presence of company, but despises attention as much as he craves others to be around him.

He's a mass of constant contradictions and loves just as much as he hates; he loathes his inability to rationalise and desperately attempts to be recognised as friend and not foe but is ultimately dangerous to be around, and his self-awareness of said fact only drives him further to madness (though not nearly as mad as Red Giant).

Despite this, he's actually very cuddly and in his short (but welcome) moments of lucidity can be a considerably useful ally whom can protect with the immense power that comes with this form as well as love with the power of two emotionally-broken touch-starved souls into one.

He's also extremely unstable physically and is constantly melting like an amalgamate from Undertale.

He is in constant severe pain, best described as every muscle rejecting the skin and bone attached to it; alongside feeling as if no part of his body is correctly connected (GET IT?????).

He has a magenta-pink theme to him, a recurring colour utilised in my stories to symbolise dreams and general insanity, fitting for a blend between violet and scarlet.

Considering this form's unnatural nature, it does not last long; thankfully, Heart and Soul's agony is only temporary and they will be released from this state once their spirits can no longer hold themselves together. If you know me, you know I am a widdle empathetic crybaby who can't handle my favourite little wet cats in perpetual pain, so luckily these two will only be a little (very much so) shaken up and probably need to sleep swaddled in heavy heated blankets with dim lights either far away from one another or smashed into the other's arms. Trauma responses are weird. That's why I want a career in them!

This is almost guaranteed to not happen in my (shared) CCCC AU, but rather more likely one of my super duper big crossover AUs, so stay tuned and witness just how intensely I can make lore out of nonsensical big house AUs.

Anyway, enjoy!

I am a hundred percent okay with:

- People drawing fanart of my concepts (ping me!)

- People making headcanons/AUs of my concepts

- People kinning my concepts

- And people roleplaying my concepts

For future reference! Anyhow, just had to get this infodump out. Thanks for reading, your company is MUCH appreciated!! :)

[lazyyogi]

How do you deal with emotional pain? My heart hurts so bad

While the nuances of how to address emotional suffering will depend on the causes unique to that experience, there are a few things to keep in mind that will prove helpful.

Something that tends to happen when we feel emotional pain is that we contract around it inwardly.

It's okay and normal to feel emotional pain, although it may not be labeled as such. For example, when a beloved pet dies of natural causes at an old age. We feel the sweetness of our love for them as well as the sting of our sadness at losing them. Those feelings move through us, starting perhaps quite intensely and then cycling a few times, slowly fading into love and acceptance.

Emotional pain is only a problem when we contract around it and it becomes stuck inside us. Sometimes we end up reorganizing ourselves around that pain in an attempt to experience it never again. In doing so, not only does that suffering never leave us but it becomes a driving force behind a lot of delusion.

So the primary thing I would draw to your attention is to be wary of the ways in which you might be contracting around your emotional pain.

Mentally this means the emotional pain becomes like a lens that colors our thoughts and perceptions. This can warp the way we regard our circumstances, the people and the world around us, and even ourselves. Our thinking mind has tuned into the frequency of this pain.

All of that leads to cyclic forms of thinking in which we renew our pain, draw narrow-minded conclusions, and feel stuck.

Physically this inward contraction causes the actual feeling of the emotion to stick around longer. While the mental contraction is due to us tuning into the frequency of the emotional pain, in other words identifying with it, the physical contraction is due to us rejecting the pain.

Rejecting an emotion doesn't actually make an emotion go away, it just adds agitation to the whole experience. If you are rejecting an emotion then you aren't giving that emotion space. And without giving an emotion space, it has nowhere to go. So it stays stuck inside us.

All of this means to say that an important part of living a happy and healthy human life is learning how to experience emotional pain without making things worse for yourself. Most of the time, you do not need to craft a magic bullet to liberate yourself from emotional suffering. You just need to outlive it and at the same time avoid the common ways we invite our suffering to stick around longer.

Two books I endlessly recommend for learning all this and more are The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle and The Places That Scare You by Pema Chodron. These combined with daily meditation practice will help you to navigate your way.

Feel free to reach out with any questions about the contents of those books or regarding meditation practice.

Much love,

LY

[raynydaystorytime]

There was a game on switch a while ago, Daemon X Machina. Basically it was a not amazing (but not horrible) mecha game along the lines of Armored Core it was all and all a very bland game with both performance and gameplay issues but one thing about that game stood out to me. It was that you could upgrade your pilot, but upgrades were in the form of cybernetic enchantments.

First couple of upgrades barely noticable, eye colour changes, a handful of seam lines on your face. Around the middle you replace your legs with robotic replacements, hands and arms become mechanized limbs. And depending on the upgrade you either got bulky industrial style parts, blade thin aeronatic frames, or a middle ground with synthetic muscle fibers to give the limb some semblance of humanity.

And then you replace your torso. Your character is now a head on a mechanized body. An organic cockpit piloting a metal body, not unlike the robot you yourself pilot. The last upgrade is a full head replacement. Assumedly the only thing remaining of your body is the brain that's now floating in your head part.

The story was ass but Daemon X Machina did one thing very well though this system. It asked the player "how far are you willing to go". Because the thing is that none of these upgrades were mandatory, there were benefits yes but none of them were absolutely vital to success. The whole system walked a very finely tuned line. What are you willing to give up for better performance? Your legs? Your arms? Your chest and heart? Everything? Or will you stay human and handicap yourself? It was fascinating to see where people drew the line. How far they were willing to disassemble the characters they had themselves created. some people gave up everything, others rejected everything. Sometimes upgrades were chosen not based on stats but based on the look of the enhancement.

---

I have lots of ideas but sadly never enough energy/expertise to realize them. Which just results in daydreaming so sometimes I daydream of a game.

In it the world is pushed to the brink of survival by monsters. And the player characters who are tasked with fighting against those monsters are given a choice.

They can augment themselves with monster parts, doing the same thing as Daemon X Machina. Your hands become talons, your legs become claws. You can jump higher, run faster. Wings and tails, horns and internal organs. Bulky augments let you wield larger weapons, tote a minigun or a rocket pod around easily. Lithe augments let you move quicker, run faster, jump higher. Push the limits until the only weapons you need are your own savage limbs. till you can spew hellish fire from your maw, till you can generate a million volts with your internal organs, till you can rip out monsters throats with your teeth and taste their cobalt blue blood dripping down your face, the same kind of blood that now runs though your veins.

Or you could not. Hunt down what monsters you can with what you have. Turn in parts to the research team. Use your enemies strengths not as implants but as technology. You kill a mantis monster and the research team hands you a sword forged from it's scythes, an invisible monster becomes a stealth field generator. You break your opponents down and turn them into weapons, armor, tools, all built for human hands to handle.

And then you watch people draw their lines. Who augments their body and who remains a steadfast human. And who tries to walk their own path somewhere down the middle. What augments do people pick? Do they choose function or appearance? Give players multiplayer, how do they react when faced with the choices of others? Maybe they split apart into humans and augmented, maybe the lines that they draw separate them from each other. Or maybe they find out that hunting monsters tends to go better when humans and augmented work together, the precision and versatility of humans synergizing with the raw versatility of augmented.

But that's just a daydream

[fraternum-momentum]

Okay, so let me ramble abt making the last comic, cause that was an absolute behemoth to work on, and I have a lot of thoughts in my head. Man, I don't know how those webtoon artists do it every week. They scare me now.

This is super long btw, so get cozy if you want to read :]

Starting off, I actually got this idea from my lil 'ol diary I keep by my tableside :] I like writing down what I feel so I can see it in a more concrete(?) manner, helps me cope i think. One time, I really did cry for someone because I guess I just really liked them a lot. Having crushes is fun, but catching feelings isn't.

I always get this giddy feeling of being head over heels for someone. Every interaction is so exciting. Intoxicating even. And I couldn't get enough of it, but after that few seconds of bliss I immediately think to myself that all these scenarios in my head will never happen, not in a million fucking years. I just preemptively reject myself without ever telling the person what I feel. I know what the outcome will be anyway, and I'm afraid of what will happen if I did say anything. It's just too risky.

The second half is completely made up tho, I will never ever kidnap someone... unless? (For legal reasons, I will have to clarify that this is a joke, Thank you.)

Now onto the comic itself!

The composition is probably the easiest and the most fun part. I love, love, love, how versatile you can be in the webtoon format. Figuring out how to transition the panels is super fun, and it sucks that most of the webcomics I see on tapas or webtoon, etc. are just sticking to those boring box formulas over and over again when it has so much potential, although there are exceptions like, for example, Lore Olympus. While it has it's fair share of flaws when in comes to other aspects, you can't deny the artist's talent esp when it comes to knowing how to place the character in an illustration, (again) the compositioning etc etc. (ep. 8 is p good. They stick to the box stuff during dialogue but gets more experimental in some parts. I haven't been keeping up with it, so idk any other good eps)

One of my only big regrets is that I wish I had made the space between the '...but I love it." and "And soon..." parts longer. I think it changed scenarios way too fast and your eye immediately moves onto the next piece of text,, but eh, it is what it is, and I can't be bothered to edit it so ig I gotta learn to live with it.

It's still messy in,, a lot of parts actually, and I still can't do lineart to save my life, but i kinda tried just cleaning up the sketches instead???? I mean, it kinda works, but it isn't really smooth so,, And there are small mistakes here and there that I could've fixed or colored stuff in properly or whatever. But at that point, I'm just done with it. No more. Am tired and want to draw other shit now. Maybe boobs n dicks n pussy-

Oh actually i have another comic in my wip folder that I started before the sad Kylar crying one. Here's some of the thumbnails for it:

the fucking lisa simpson looking ass face just cracks me up every time I see it LMAOQJSJQJ I just wanted to show it to u but stay tuned for that ig

I eventually want to make little comics like this for other characters as well! Like Sydney, who is also one of my favorites cause of the whole religion aspect to them, and I would like to tackle that topic with yet another super personal experience of mine that for some reason I'm comfortable with sharing with a bunch of ppl lmao

I also really want to make a full on nsfw one, like gut rearranging, carnal fucking, hardcore banging,, ok ill stop. But I do need to do more,, uh, "research" on that,, i swear it's research, i have no clue how im gonna draw it. Hell, I already struggle with drawing people fucking and imagine adding cool transitions to that. Guess even my masochistic tendencies extend to this shit too.

And I think that's pretty much it? I'll probably just stick to b and w or monotone with a few accent colors because i just know that it would break me if i did a fully colored one.

Okay, thank you for reading this ramble, I'll go ahead and answer some asks now,, Here's your prize though!

[lil-cutesy-things]

It's okay to feel something (Kisses from July 2024 #1)

Or Why You Should Really Stop Repressing Your Emotions

Hi lovelies 🩷 Welcome to "Kisses from July 2024", a new series on my blog!

In this summery series, I will discuss things I learned over the years that help me massively nowadays.

As for the releasing pace, I think I'll post every week on Thursday and Sunday. Stay tuned 🥳

TODAY'S TOPIC

In the first part of this series, I will discuss how repressing your emotions can be harmful.

What might "repressing your emotions" truly mean? Well, you're repressing your emotions if you forbid yourself from feeling them, if you reject them, dismiss them or deny their very existence.

If you feel like I called you out, don't worry - I will suggest solutions toward the end.

CAUSES

You may repress your emotions for different reasons - traumas and abuse being the main ones.

For example, if someone's criticising your every move, you may not dare express your emotions (rather that be sadness, anger, concern...) by telling them you feel this way. You may be scared of their reaction; you may feel like reaching out will lead to even more criticism.

It's the exact same pattern if abusers are involved. You may be scared of their reaction; you may feel like reaching out will lead to crueller abuse.

It's a bit different though if traumas are involved. I would say it depends mostly on the type of trauma you have gone through and whether the effects of the traumatic event(s) have worn out or not. You may be scared that the past will repeat itself; you may believe that dismissing your emotions will make them less intense.

CONSEQUENCES

Repressing your emotions will lead to huge fatigue. Hiding how you truly feel (whether consciously or not) is tiring and requires an awful lot of energy.

You will inevitably end up reaching a breaking point where it will be impossible for you to act indifferent anymore.

And then? What generally happens when you're exhausted? You become nervous, dissatisfied and irritable. Sometimes you end up lashing out at other people. Sometimes you end up self-harming in one way or another. But in the end, your emotions explode and overflow in one way or another.

POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS & PERSONAL ADVICE

A solution that is painfully obvious is to express your emotions.

How so? Fortunately, there are many, many ways to express how you feel.

You will find below a list of some creative outlets:

• Clay modelling

• Dancing

• Doodling

• Drawing

• Journaling

• Singing

• Writing

• Etc.

As for myself, I'm not ashamed to say that I'm used to repressing my emotions. Mainly because of ASD* and PTSD**.

If you find yourself trapped in a vicious cycle of repressing your emotions to the point where they soon become overwhelming, I would suggest you talk to someone you trust, whether that be a relative or someone external to your family.

*ASD: autism spectrum disorder.

**PTSD: post-traumatic stress disorder.

Love,

Bay 💋

[anruraiocht]

parts of me died in the house i grew up in

(cw: suicidal ideation)

"I want to go outside," is the sentence that falls from your lips at the sound of your door creaking open.

Without tearing your gaze from the window, you can hear the count shift awkwardly in the doorway. A few short years ago, you would have run over, little hands tugging at his coat, desperate for human contact.

"...My lady, today is..."

When you were younger, it had been a question, a young princess seeking permission to go outside and play. Now, it is a command fulfilled less than half of the time.

"Conomor."

"Have you..." He treads carefully, not wanting to set off your temper. "...Slept, my lady?"

You finally rip your gaze away from the window, showing the count your haggard face. The answer to his question is obvious just from looking at you. He stiffens, concern furrowing his brow. He, too, looks worse than the last time you saw him. Another streak of grey peppers his dark hair.

"I want to go outside," you reiterate.

You haven't slept. Of course you haven't. How are you supposed to sleep when the sound of screams keeps you awake all night? It's your father wailing in despair for his lost kingdom. It's your mother, keening in grief for your late father. It's the screams of someone you don't recognize, but they haunt the castle, nevertheless. It's the screams of your people as the Empire invades your home. It's your own screams, shredding your throat into a raw, bloody mess.

It doesn't really matter who it came from or if your mind is just playing tricks on you. If you stay in this room any longer, it's going to kill you, just like it did your mother and father.

"...Forgive me, Your Highness."

He kneels low to the floor, head hanging. His answer won't change even if you pester him like a petulant child. But aren't you a child to begin with? No matter how much he tries to shrink his body or emphasize your title to defer to you, you're still just a little girl. No matter how much you kick and scream, he can't give you what you want.

Today, you're too tired to be angry.

Your gaze sweeps to his hip where his empty scabbard hangs. He always makes sure to remove his sword before entering your room. Now that you're older, you understand why. On days like this, you resent him for it, even though it's not his decision. They're careful to never allow forks or knives to remain in your room after your meals, just in case.

You are of no use if you're dead, after all.

You turn your head back to the window, rejecting his stilted attempt at soothing you.

"Leave me, then. I wish to rest."

Count Conomor says something back, likely a wish to rest well, but you've already tuned him out. The dull sound of the door creaking shut hardly registers to your ears.

Alone once more, you draw your knees up to your chest, folding into yourself. You can't sleep, not on your bed, where your mother and father had kissed your forehead when they had tucked you in. Later, you will fall asleep here on the windowsill, as close to the outside as you can get.

[saiacross]

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 4.657 Words : Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 16: Tails ⚠️ 18+ Content Spicy/Smut⚠️

This Work is part of an overarching story that Normally can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters. ⬅ Chapter 15 A New Threat 💜 Chapter 17 Spell Gone Wrong ➡ Master List

Chapter 16: Tails Every time Saia thinks she has gotten a handle on her hallucinations and nightmares something happens causing her to overexert herself, which in turn seems to bring back the horrible visions. Though they seem to be affecting her less and less every time she sees them they still make it hard to get any kind of rest. Thankfully Dean decided to stay when Castiel had asked for his assistance, after all, he knew she would need him. As for Sam, well he missed out on his turn. ⚠️ 18+ Content Spicy/Smut⚠️

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Y/N's steps were heavy and deliberate as she made her way down the hallway, her energy sapped from the ordeal of the previous day. The weight of fatigue clung to her, casting a shadow over her movements. Her footsteps echoed softly against the floor, a muted rhythm of exhaustion.

The voices from the kitchen reached her ears, pulling her from her thoughts. Dean's frustration was palpable, his words laced with irritation as he engaged in a conversation with Castiel. Y/N's brows furrowed as she approached, her weariness momentarily forgotten as she tuned into their exchange.

“Look I'm sorry Cass but I just can't right now alright?”

As she entered the kitchen, Y/N's gaze shifted between the two figures standing on opposite sides of the island. Dean, his back to her, was focused on cooking, his movements a blend of tension and distraction. Castiel, with his usual air of calm detachment, turned to acknowledge her presence.

Y/N's voice carried the weight of her fatigue as she spoke, her words a soft inquiry that hung in the air. "Everything alright?"

Castiel's gaze met hers, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Hello, Y/N. You look horrible." he greeted in his customary straightforward manner, though his observation about her appearance bordered on blunt honesty.

Y/N's lips quirked into a tired smile, her response tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "Thanks, Cass. Nice to see you too."

Dean's movements stilled for a moment as he glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Y/N's weary form. Concern flickered across his features, momentarily softening his frustrated demeanor. "How you feelin’?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/N eased herself onto a chair at the table, her exhaustion evident in the way she settled into the seat. She offered a small smile to Dean. "Just drained," she admitted her voice a gentle admission of her current state.

Castiel's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression reflecting a mixture of understanding and empathy. "Drawing out the poison took a toll on you," he noted, his tone devoid of judgment.

Dean huffed at Castiel's comment, his frustration palpable even as he continued cooking. He couldn't help but feel a mix of annoyance and concern for Y/N, especially after he found you passed out on your bedroom floor yesterday after the whole ordeal still in your blood-covered clothes. He had offered to let her feed from him, a gesture he hoped would help replenish her energy, but she had refused. It left him feeling both rejected and worried about her well-being.

Y/N, seemingly trying to divert the focus away from herself asked, “So what were you too urging about?” Her tired voice held a note of curiosity, an attempt to shift the conversation to a different topic.

Castiel's reply was matter-of-fact, his expression serious as he explained, "There is a possible case that needs looking into but Dean won't help."

Dean's attention shifted from the stove, a plate of food in his hand, as he turned to face Y/N. He didn't want to appear callous, but his frustration was evident as he spoke. "It's not that I don't want to, okay?" His tone held a mix of exasperation and genuine explanation. "But Sammy is still out cold, and this one is being difficult." He nodded towards Y/N, emphasizing his point.

Y/N's tired eyes shifted from Castiel to Dean as she offered an alternative solution to the case they were discussing. "Maybe we can pass this case on to someone else, just in case it's something," she suggested, her voice carrying a note of practicality.

Castiel's contemplative gaze met hers, and after a brief moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement. "Yes, that should be fine," he agreed, his tone decisive.

Y/N's expression relaxed, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. She began to rise from her seat, ready to take action on their decision. However, her movement was abruptly halted as Dean approached the table, his tone firm and determined. "Oh no you don't," he interjected, a hint of sternness in his voice. "You're gonna sit right here and eat."

A sigh escaped Y/N's lips, a mix of frustration and resignation. She knew Dean's insistence was coming from a place of concern, but she also had her reasons for not feeling up to eating. "Dean, you know I don't feel like eating," she protested, her voice tinged with weariness. "Look, I'm just gonna..."

Y/N's words trailed off, her entire body freezing as her gaze shifted beyond Dean, towards the doorway leading out of the kitchen. Her eyes widened in shock as her vision seemed to blur, and before she stood the haunting figures of Olivia and her mother—hallucinations that she had struggled to escape since the traumatic events of the recent days.

The air in the room grew dense and thick with an unsettling energy that seemed to envelop Y/N. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest like a wild, untamed thing. For a moment, her surroundings blurred, the edges of her vision consumed by the apparitions that had taken form before her eyes.

Dean's concerned voice cut through the haze, a lifeline pulling her back from the brink of panic. "Y/N, hey, are you alright?" His worry was palpable, his tone laced with a genuine concern that reached out to her.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the doorway, her voice a fragile whisper as she struggled to convey the haunting truth. "They're... they're here," she stammered, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and distress. "Olivia and my mother, I can see them..."

Castiel's brow furrowed as he followed Y/N's gaze as he searched the empty space as if hoping to catch a glimpse of some newcomers. "I don't see anything," he stated calmly, his voice measured even in the face of the inexplicable.

Dean's understanding of the situation was immediate, his awareness of Y/N's struggles evident in the grunt, “She is hallucinating again.” His fingers found her chin, his touch gentle yet firm as he forced her to meet his gaze, catching her attention. "Hey, Y/N, look at me," he urged his voice a steady anchor in the midst of the storm. "What you're seeing isn't real. They aren't here, alright?"

Y/N's eyes, wide and haunted, stared blankly at Dean, her mind grappling with the thin line between reality and illusion. Slowly, as if emerging from a trance, her features softened, and she offered a hesitant nod, the fog of her distress beginning to lift.

Dean released her gently, and Y/N's gaze shifted back to the doorway. The apparitions that had haunted her had vanished, leaving only the emptiness of the room in their wake. A soft whisper escaped her lips, laden with remorse. "Sorry..."

Castiel's gaze held a mix of curiosity and concern as he observed the exchange.

Without a word, Dean pulled Y/N into an embrace, holding her close as if to shield her from the lingering traces of fear. The weight of his presence, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, became a soothing balm for Y/N's frayed nerves.

A glance passed between Dean and Castiel, unspoken words exchanged in that simple moment. Dean’s eyes explain to Castiel ‘This is why I can’t leave.’

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“Dean?”

Dean's name floated through the air, a soft call that roused him from his momentary distraction. He looked up, his eyes locking onto Y/N's figure standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She wore her night clothes, her body language a mix of vulnerability and defensiveness; her arm crossed over her waist as if shielding herself, her ears were laid against her head, and her tails curled themselves around her legs lightly.

Caught off guard, Dean's attempt at casual nonchalance fell flat. The magazine he had been engrossed in was hastily discarded into the nightstand drawer, the awkward movement punctuating his surprise. He cleared his throat, pushing himself up off his bed as his hands instinctively wiped down his gray sweatpants as if to remove any imaginary wrinkles.

His question emerged in a slightly stumbling manner, his words betraying a hint of embarrassment. "Hey, um, yeah, everything alright?"

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the floor, her voice soft as she spoke, the vulnerability in her tone mirrored in her words. "So um, Sano and... dead you, are in my room at the moment..."

Dean's world seemed to momentarily freeze, his mind racing to process the meaning behind her words. The weight of understanding settled in, the reality of Y/N's hallucinations crashing over him like a wave. The frequency of Y/N's hallucinations was escalating, a troubling sign of the battles she waged within her own mind.

"Okay...um well, you can stay here tonight if that would help," he suggested, his voice carrying a mix of concern and determination. His fingers found their way to the back of his head, a telltale sign of his own unease, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why the situation felt so awkward.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the floor, her thoughts a turbulent whirlwind that threatened to overwhelm her. Dean's question broke through the silence, a simple inquiry that held a world of understanding beneath its surface. "You alright?" he asked, his tone gentle.

The weight of her emotions felt like an anchor, holding her in place. Y/N's inner turmoil, a storm of doubts and fears, raged on. She wanted to voice her needs, to ask for the support she required, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, imprisoned by her own insecurities.

Dean's gaze lingered on her, his eyes scanning her features as if trying to decipher the unspoken thoughts that resided there. He spoke again, his words a gentle encouragement that cut through the silence. "You know there's no shame in asking for what you need."

Y/N's fists clenched around the fabric of her nightshirt, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within her. Her heart pounded, her vulnerability laid bare in Dean's presence. She wrestled with her own hesitations, the fear of burdening him warring with the desire for sustenance.

With a deliberate step forward, he closed the distance between them, his voice a gentle anchor in the storm. "Y/N," he said, his voice a soothing murmur, "you don't have to go through this alone."

The room held a fragile tension, a moment suspended in time. Y/N's breath caught, she found herself at a crossroads, a choice between vulnerability and isolation. He reached out, his hand extending toward her, an invitation to share her burden. "Let me help," he said, his voice a quiet affirmation.

Y/N's pulse quickened as she took that pivotal step forward, crossing the threshold into Dean's room. Dean's touch was warm and reassuring as he guided her further into his room. The soft lighting cast a warm glow, creating a cocoon of closeness that enveloped them both. His arm around her felt protective, a shield against the vulnerabilities that had brought them to this moment.

"Hey," Dean's voice was a gentle murmur, his eyes searched to meet hers with a mixture of empathy and support. "You're safe here." Dean led her to the edge of the bed, his touch remaining steady as he guided her to sit down. "Take your time," he said, his words a reassuring balm that calmed the storm within her.

Y/N settled onto the bed, her gaze never able to meet Dean's as he remained standing before her. Her heart raced, emotions swirling like a tempest, yet the connection between them felt steadying—a lifeline amidst the turmoil.

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, a testament to the depth of her emotions. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice laden with gratitude.

Dean's fingers brushed gently against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His touch was tender, a gesture of understanding that needed no words. "Whenever you're ready," he said, his voice a gentle invitation.

In that moment, Y/N felt a sense of release—a letting go of the shame that had held her captive. With a nod, she met Dean's gaze for the first time, her eyes shining with newfound resolve. "Okay," she whispered.

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The air in the room felt charged, heavy with a potent mix of desire and uncertainty. Y/N's mind was a swirl of sensations, her body still tingling from the intensity of the feeding. With a slow, deliberate effort, she blinked her eyes open, her gaze meeting Dean's form hovering above her.

Dean, shirtless and captivating, was a vision that ignited a fire within her. His forearms framed her head, his strong presence a mixture of hunger and raw need. Their proximity was electric, every inch of space between them brimming with unspoken tension.

Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths, evidence of the effect the exchange and Dean, had on her. His forehead rested just above her shoulder, his warm breath fanning across her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

The memory of his husky voice, his plea and desire, echoed in her ears. "Damnit, I forgot how intense this is, I really want to touch you." 

Dean's words reverberated through her mind, each syllable etching a mark on her senses. His rough voice was a potent reminder of the intensity that was coursing between them, a heat that was consuming them both. His words, a mix of frustration and longing, seemed to linger in the air, an invitation she had accepted without reservation.

In a swift, fluid motion, the world seemed to shift. Y/N found herself on her back, the sheets cool against her skin as Dean's presence enveloped her. Their bodies were a symphony of shared heat, every touch and brush of skin a testament to the passion that bound them.

And now, here they were—her body completely beneath his, a shared moment that defied explanation. Y/N's senses were heightened, every whisper of breath, every graze of fingertips against her skin, amplifying the moment's intensity. Y/N's fingers twitched against the bedspread, a subconscious movement as her heart raced, a rhythm that mirrored the rapid pace of her thoughts.

Y/N whispered, “Dean..”

A deep growl resonated from Dean's chest as his name escaped Y/N’s lips, the sound of it bringing darkness to his eyes.

“Stop me if it's something you don't want, alright?” His voice was thick with desire and he waited for her response, feeling like eternity passed until she finally nodded her head. Tugging her closer to him with one hand, Dean positioned himself between her legs as his lips sought out the sensitive skin on her neck. As soon as their bodies made contact an electric current ran through Y/N's body, causing her back to arch and a moan to escape her lips. The sound of it further aroused him and Dean pulled her close to him with one arm while his other hand explored her body hungrily.

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure as her hips collided with Dean's as he roughly clutched her waist, bringing her body flush against his. She emitted a passionate moan that possessed the air around them, prompting Dean to rock into her at a steady pace, grinding his hardened member into the wetness between Y/N's legs through her shorts. His thick member relentlessly prodded at her, teasingly rubbing against her tender nub with each frenzied thrust forward.

Dean's passion was like an inferno as his lips scorched a trail along Y/N's neck and shoulder, every movement electric and desperate. His hands roamed eagerly, as they made their way up from her waist, exploring her curves as they went, until they reached beneath the hem of her shirt, pushing the fabric higher up her chest. He felt the heat of her skin under his touch, urging him on with a promise of more pleasure to come. She can feel his fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts, tugging them down inch by inch.

Y/N's hand reached out and took hold of Dean's just before his hand could slide too far with her shorts, eagerly trying to explore beyond them. She reaches out and firmly grasps his wrist, and she begs in a desperate, yet passionate voice, "Please, no.."

The sound of her plea stirs something inside him; his member pulses in anticipation. Her thighs were slick with sweat and desire. Dean feels the urge to just take her and when he is about to give in, he moves his mouth towards Y/N's breast through her shirt, eagerly seeking out her cries of pleasure. His hips thrust harder and faster against her as his mouth explores her body through her clothes. Her moans intensify with each movement until she is screaming out his name, sending shivers through every inch of him.

Dean's mouth hungrily sucked on one of Y/N's breasts through her shirt as his other hand clutched the other one tightly, squeezing it mercilessly while. Y/N let out a moan as her hands found their way to Dean's shoulders; one clawing at his skin and the other folding itself into a fistful of his hair. As she arched her back, her hips met Dean's mid-thrust sending shock waves of pleasure through her body, pushing them closer to the just-out-of-reach climax that they were both desperately seeking.

With a feral growl, Dean pulled Y/N close and snaked his arm around her back, his hand reaching for the base of her tails and roughly grabbing it. She jolted and shuddered with pleasure as Dean's touch unleashed a wave of electricity that crashed through her core, taking away any control she had over her movements. She gasped out in pleasure as her climax reached its peak and her hands clenched onto Dean's shoulders; a deep shock wave of orgasm rippling through her until her shorts were drenched with the intensity of it all.

The sudden jolt of Y/N’s body sent a rush through Dean as he felt her hips thrust hard against his own. His pulsing cock thrust against her hot wet mound, each stroke bringing him closer to his own climax. Y/N's voice rang through the air, a pattern of sound echoing off the walls of his bedroom as she let out a steady stream of pleasure. He felt himself being held captive by her grip and followed suit with a forceful thrust of his hips to match the pulsing intense release of his cock. His moans mixed deliciously with hers as they rode out their simultaneous orgasms together.

The air was heavy with a mixture of heat and the heady scent of desire. Dean's spent body pressed against Y/N's, their labored breaths intertwining in the charged atmosphere. He had carefully positioned himself to ensure her comfort, his weight not restricting her even as they both tried to regain their composure.

With a sigh that held both exhaustion and contentment, Dean's forehead rested against the crook of Y/N's neck, his lips brushing against her skin with each breath. In the midst of their shared panting, his concern for her well-being remained paramount.

"You alright?" Dean's voice, though strained, carried a gentleness that spoke volumes of his care. Y/N's chest rose and fell in response, her breaths shallow as she attempted to find her equilibrium once more. Words eluded her at this moment, her senses still ablaze with the lingering sensations of their fervent connection as she nodded her head.

A weary chuckle escaped Dean's lips, a soft sound that carried the weight of their shared fatigue as he rolled off to one side of the bed. His question held a note of curiosity, a playful tilt that managed to find its way even in the midst of their intimate aftermath. "So the tails, huh?"

Y/N nodded her head again, her eyes resting closed, the acknowledgment of her unique attributes.

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The library was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows against the shelves of books. Dean sat there, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, unable to find solace even after cleaning up. Sleep had eluded him, and he found himself lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts.

Amidst the quiet, a voice broke through the stillness, and Dean's head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. Sam stood in the doorway, his presence a welcome surprise that dispelled the sense of isolation that had settled over Dean.

"Sam!" Dean's voice was a mixture of relief and joy, the fatigue that had weighed him down momentarily forgotten as he surged forward. The hug that followed was tight and genuine, Dean's arms wrapping around his brother in a fierce embrace. Sam, caught off guard, stumbled slightly but quickly found his footing, his own arms wrapping around Dean with a few pats to the back.

After a few hearty pats on the back, Dean guided Sam to one of the chairs at the table, the atmosphere shifting from the library's contemplative quiet to a more animated energy. Concern laced Dean's features as he settled into the chair across from Sam, his gaze fixed on his brother.

"How you feeling?" Dean's voice was a mixture of care and curiosity, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. Sam's response came with a grunt, the weariness in his tone matched by the fatigue that lingered in his eyes.

"Like I have sludge in my veins," Sam replied, his words punctuated by a halfhearted chuckle. The effort of speaking seemed to take a toll on him, and he leaned back in the chair with a sigh.

Dean's nod was empathetic, a shared understanding passing between them. "Yeah, Y/N mentioned you'd be feeling pretty gross for a while," he confirmed, his voice holding a note of reassurance. The mention of Y/N's name seemed to trigger a shift in Sam's thoughts, his gaze sharpening as he pieced together the events that had led to his current state.

 "Is she alright?" His concern for Y/N was tangible.

Dean's gaze held Sam's, a silent conversation passing between them before he began to recount the events that had unfolded. He detailed Y/N's return with him in toe, her struggles with the hallucinations, her strength in extracting the poison, and her subsequent exhaustion. Every word was carefully chosen.

“What happened to the guy that attacked us?” Sam asked as he tried to put everything into perspective.

“No idea, she didn't say.” Dean shrugged his shoulders

“Hmm slide me the laptop.” Sam had a look of complexity about him.

Dean did so but was hesitant.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the laptop screen as Sam's fingers danced across the keyboard with a focused intensity, his brows furrowing in concentration as he navigated through the digital landscape. Dean watched with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, his body tense as he waited for Sam to uncover the answers they sought.

As the seconds ticked by, Sam's expression shifted from concentration to shock, his eyes widening as he absorbed the information displayed on the screen. Dean's concern deepened, his instincts urging him to move closer. He stepped around the table and leaned over Sam's shoulder, his gaze fixed on the laptop's display.

"What?" Dean's voice was a mix of urgency and curiosity, his brow furrowing as he tried to decipher Sam's reaction. He needed to know what had caught his brother's attention so suddenly.

Sam's voice was quiet, tinged with a mix of disbelief and realization. "Dean, look at this." His fingers gestured at the screen, drawing Dean's attention to the surveillance camera footage that played out before them.

The images flickered to life, the scene unfolding in a series of frames captured by the camera's unblinking eye. Sam and Y/N's figures entered the alley, and then, the imposer Dean appeared. The sight was both familiar and unsettling, the uncanny resemblance to the real Dean sending shivers down Sam's spine. He watched as Y/N's gaze fixated on the figure, a realization dawning on her that something was amiss.

The tension escalated, Sam shielding Y/N from the assailant's attack, his body a barrier between her and danger. The rapid succession of events played out on the screen, each frame capturing the desperation and determination that filled the alley.

Y/N's swift reaction, her transformation into her hybrid form, sent shock waves through both Sam and Dean. The sight was awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once, the power she wielded evident as flames erupted from her tails, engulfing the enemy in a fiery inferno.

As the footage continued, the flames subsided, leaving only ashes and smoke in their wake. The attacker was no more, consumed by the fire that Y/N had conjured. The scene was both chilling and mesmerizing, a testament to Y/N's strength and the danger they constantly faced.

Dean's voice was a mix of amazement and uncertainty as he broke the silence that had settled over the room. "She... she did that?" His eyes remained fixed on the screen, the impact of Y/N's actions sinking in.

Sam nodded slowly, his voice carrying a mixture of awe and pride. "Yeah, she did."

Sam's gaze remained fixed on the screen even after the footage ended. "Dean," he began, his voice hesitant yet resolute, "we need to find out who that imposer was, why they were after us. There could be more of them."

Dean's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he shared Sam's determination. "You're right. We can't let this slide. Y/N's been through enough."

Sam nodded his head, agreeing with his brother's assessment. "Yeah, between that and what you said happened earlier, she's gotta be pretty drained."

Dean's response was typically casual, a playful smirk on his face as he nonchalantly slapped Sam's shoulder. "Nah, she'll be fine. We already took care of that."

Sam allowed his body to shift with the impact of Dean's playful hit, but his expression questioning as he processed Dean's implication. He looked up at his brother, his gaze filled with curiosity and a touch of disbelief. "Took care of it?"

Dean met Sam's gaze head-on, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "What? You were unconscious, remember? And besides, you aren't in any better shape than she was."

“Dude!” Sam’s voice told of his disapproval.

“Oh come on Sammy, We didn’t go all the way.” Dean stood fully now from his previous position.

“We had a deal!” Sam turned in his seat to fully face his brother, his eyebrows raised in an attempt to defend his position.

“Hey. No. You're right, we had a deal,” Dean puts his hands up in defense, “And here's a little pro tip for next time," he said, his voice tinged with mischief.

“What is it? "Sam's expression held a mixture of curiosity and skepticism though intrigued by Dean's advice.

Dean's eyes gleamed with confidence as he imparted his unconventional wisdom. "Go for the tails, it's a game-changer."

“Seriously? The tails?" Sam's voice carried a hint of both doubt and amusement, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of Dean's unconventional advice.

Dean's grin was mischievous as he continued his backward retreat, his hands still raised in a gesture of innocence. "Yeah, Sammy, trust me on this one. It's like a secret weapon," he quipped, his voice tinged with a playful confidence that was uniquely Dean.

Sam couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief, a combination of bemusement and affection evident in his expression. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" he remarked, a chuckle escaping his lips despite himself.

Dean's laughter echoed through the hallway as he disappeared from view, his parting words carrying a hint of cheekiness. "Hey, just looking out for your best interests, little brother!"

Left alone in the library, Sam let out a soft sigh, his amusement mingling with a sense of camaraderie that only the Winchester brothers could share. He leaned back in his chair, and with a shake of his head and a soft chuckle, Sam turned his attention back to the laptop screen, his determination to uncover the truth burning as brightly as ever.

End Chapter 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 This is the Female Reader-Insert Version of my Story, please consider taking a look at the Original with my OFC Saia.

Please comment & 💜

[acourtofthought]

Good morning!!! Or afternoon! Wherever you are!

Unfortunately, I follow a Feyre Stan who is very anti-elucien but we share our love for Feyre. She, along with a lot of E**iels, insist that Elain notices Lucien wanting to further things along but Elain just doesn’t care at all. Period. I thought to myself—what? If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have such strong reactions to it. And she DOES have very strong reactions to him. The strongest, her reactions to him stand out from everyone else. Because duh! He’s her mate! Also, how can she not care when canonically, we all know that mates are very in tune and very aware of each other and their feelings. There’s an actual thread there, friends. A connection so sacred and rare that marriage pales in comparison. I’ll never understand why they think Elain doesn’t care. They completely ignore canon and refuse to think and read analytically.

Hello there!! I'm US Eastern time so depending on when you sent this it could have been either of those things 😀

You can always tell when a reader who has a ship completely glosses over anything not related to their ship.

Whereas Elucien stans distinctly remember a conversation that Feyre had with Mor.

"Stay out of it. She's not ready and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings."

"Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her."

Do readers honestly believe that we've seen Lucien figure out ANYTHING yet? Yes, he's living with Jurian and Vassa but does it seem like he's thriving there? And Elain lives with her sister for gods sakes. Cooking and baking for her sister, tending to her sisters garden. Sorry but does an Elain stan really think that's an exciting future for her?

Of course Lucien looks at Elain with longing. He's got a Mating Bond with her and that draws two people together. Do Lucien or Elain truly know one another yet? I think they probably have this crazy intimacy between them because of what the bond allows them to sense about the other but you can't claim that as knowing. It's sort of like being given all the information of the universe all at once without fully understanding it. I do think Lucien and Elain are somewhat aware of one another's deepest thoughts without really knowing the little stuff yet. So no, they don't "know" each other while still having a strong awareness of the other. But, that still doesn't mean either is ready for the next step, even Lucien.

Two people should not attempt to come together before attempting to figure out what they want from their life as an individual person. It would be horrible timing for either Lucien or Elain to actually pursue something romantic right now (cough E/riel, cough cough).

Sorry I took that in a completely wide direction but what I mean to say is that, regardless of how we perceive his longing glances and the drive to know her because of instinct and glances into her mind, I don't think Lucien is actually making any real effort to further things along right now. He has not actually said, "can we talk alone?" "Do you want me to stop coming around?" "Can I take you out for a drink?" Sorry but that is not a Male actively pursuing a female and I think that's because (as Mor said), he's not ready. That boy has some things to figure out before he can start anything real up, same with Elain. And I think on some level, they are both aware that neither of them is in any place to move forward (hence why Elain has not accepted or rejected the bond. She's literally made no moves regarding it). And why Lucien continues in this Mating Bond holding pattern. But they are affected by one another and it's ridiculous to think they aren't. Elain "shrinking" back is a classic SJM move. Where it looks one way but there's a whole lot of emotion going on behind it and a whole lot of thought that SJM is going to explore when we finally get to Elain's book. But just like we knew Nesta's hatred and venom towards Cassian actually equaled real feelings (weird right?), Elucien's know that in the same way, Elain shying away from Lucien and trying to convince herself she wants something with Az is her attempt at trying to avoid admitting to herself how strong her feelings toward Lucien actually are. Something she can't seem to control and something she's scared of as a result.

[gabelesimp]

Okay, I've been wanting to get this idea out of my mind!

Record of Ragnarok!

Poseidon's child, but they fight in Ragnarok.

You entered the arena, revenge for your father. You may be a Demi god, but you stayed true to your father. Humanity was whispering, about that it's going to be obvious on who will lose.

Heimdall announced who your opponent was, another swordsman. You stood your ground, your Uncle Zeus admitted that you'd be defeated like his brother, and if he was correct. Your Step-mother, Amphitrite will rule over Atlantis with her children.

It was like your Father's battle, you managed to draw First blood, and they also gave back blood. You never learnt how to whistle his tune, with his repaired trident in your hands. You held it close to your face, "Medusa...Alope Demeter." The water flow became fierce, everyone stood in shock. Everyone heard his whistle, and it wasn't coming from you. It was the water around you. Your attacks became faster within moments that your opponent couldn't keep up. He tried to use the same technique that Kojiro used, but he was late. Your trident pierced his chest, his filthy blood spilling all over you.

Amphitrite was furious, Zeus' doubt on you was lifted. "The winner of Ragnarok round 3 is...(Y/n)!! The child of the seas!" Heimdall announced once more, your battle was over. Revenge for Poseidon was done, you walked over to the waters.

"Are you proud of me, Dad?.." you asked, you could feel him smile down at you, even Hades, you did something that he couldn't do for his dear brother. Zeus told the Greek Pantheon to celebrate your victory, but you rejected his offer and had other plans in Atlantis.

Weeks passed, Amphitrite came crying to Zeus and Hera. Telling them that you banished her out of Atlantis with her children. "Please... Poseidon doesn't want this!" She felt your presence by the doors. Hera protected her, she yelled at you for being such a bitch to your mother.

"Her and her children's lives in Atlantis is irrelevant, I have told his people. It doesn't matter who takes my crown or my throne, I hold my Father's treasure. I am their King."

Atlantis changed, it was more lively. Of course, you knew your father was a cold Tyrant but He wanted you to rule instead of his wife and biological children. He loved you, he still does. He is forever with you, in your heart and the ocean.

(You are Poseidon's golden child, bc yeah! You're his pride and joy!)

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Danny and Izuku have a talk...

Word count: 2974

Chapter 14: So…uhhh. Can I ask a Question?

14/?

Danny dived for his hat, but he knew it was too late. Deku had seen his face. Danny had seen in slow motion recognition light up the boy’s features. He knew who he was. He cradled the hat in his hand. Inside the cap there was a thick film of ectoplasm, gently glowing. Must’ve been how it stayed on for so long. Danny touched the sticky surface, and like before, it slurped back into him, sending a shiver down his spine. He wasn’t used to that feeling yet. He put the cap back on and stood up to face Deku. 

Danny didn’t know what he was trying to achieve. He should’ve ditched the boy back when he had the chance. He still could, but something made him stay rooted to the spot. Maybe, in his own messed up way, he was looking for a friend, for anyone . The boy still hadn’t run yet, just staring at Danny with those big analytical eyes. He knew the kid was smart, he was probably coming up with a plan of how to destroy Danny (not like it would work). The kid was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. 

Danny readjusted his cap, no longer casting shadows on his face. He felt stupid for trying to hide it again. Still there was something uncertain in the air. It felt that it wouldn’t be true until the kid acknowledged it. Danny just continued standing there, waiting for the kid to make the first move. 

“Are there more of you?” The boy finally asked. It was not the thing Danny thought he would say first.

“What? You mean like reinforcements?” Danny cocked his head at the question, still off guard. He expected him to scream or yell at him, or call for help, some form of rejection. He liked this better. 

“Well, in the news it says that there are multiple of ‘you’?” Deku was talking with his hands, it was clear the boy was nervous, but also curious.

“Oh the ‘vigilante group’ thing?” Danny cringed, “No, it’s just me here,” he smirked, “but if you see any others that look like me, know I’m the original.” he pointed to himself in the chest. He doubted Deku would ever meet Elle, but it was still fun to mess with the kid. He nodded furiously. During the course of the questions, Deku started to unconsciously move closer to him. Danny sat down on the sand, and the boy followed, not even paying attention. 

“Will you tell me your quirk now?” The boy asked. He was vibrating in his seat, and his foot shook back and forth slightly. 

“No. You didn’t win.” 

“What?!” The kid’s foot stopped and turned his head sharply towards Danny, his face in his personal bubble. Danny pushed it away like you would a dog with food, and the kid got the message. 

“I said I would tell you if you win.” Danny stated, flicking him on his forehead, “which you didn’t. It was a draw.” That wouldn’t hold the kid off for long, Danny just didn’t know how to answer him yet. He still didn’t understand enough about quirks to come up with a convincing lie. At first they seemed pretty simple; super strength, super speed, but then you have people who can, like, twist their body inside out? And then get stuck like that? Or at least that's what one very click-baity article said (he didn’t read it). What would he even call his quirk? The Ghostly Hero: Phantom- His quirk; Dead! He laughed to himself. 

They were facing towards the sea. The sun was eaten by the horizon, and in its place laid the moon. It pulled the tide in, making the waves dance and sing. A gentle breeze sent a salty aroma towards them. He closed his eyes and let it all envelope him. Since dying, Danny had lost a lot of physical sensation, everything feeling numb or burned off, but he has been more in tune with the metaphysical. He would fly past sights like this before, but now he felt like a part of it. It was peaceful. Perhaps that’s only a perceptive you get when you’re closer to death; like being old or a ghost. 

He looked over at the boy. Right into his big puppy dog eyes, and his heart sank. It was too much like Elle’s when she wanted something. Danny groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” Deku immediately perked up, “but I don’t have a name for it, so bear with me.”

“You don’t?” the kid looked confused, “What is it registered under then? Or is the name outdated and you haven’t updated it yet to reflect how it has evolved?”

“It’s not.” Danny leaned back and stretched out his legs before him. Deku just awkwardly shifted his lap, still too pent up. That was fine, Danny was just glad he didn’t run away yet. 

“Wait, so what happened when your quirk manifested? Did your parents just not register it in?!” Danny looked over at the boy. 

“Yeah.” His leg started to shake again. He began muttering to himself, but Danny wasn’t really paying attention. After a beat Danny finally said, “what would you call my quirk?”

The boy's eyes widened and his body went rigid. “I wouldn’t even know where to start?! The only things I know about your quirk is,” he raised his hand and started to count off on his fingers, “1, you're cold, like all the time. Usually those with ice or other heat manipulation quirks are only slightly hotter or colder, but when they use their quirk it's a more dramatic difference. With you, you’re just always like that which would mean that you’re either constantly using your quirk, or the ice you make is so cold that your body has adapted by becoming comfortable at a lower temperature to not kill you. That in itself is an impressive and powerful feat! I saw pictures on the news of your ice after your fight with the two Nomus. It still hasn’t melted! They had to close down the street and bring in a specialized crew in to chip it all away. The only time that has been heard of is in the Himura family, whose ice can last for a while, even under extreme heat, but even then it’s not to the extreme extent that your quirk is capable of!” The kid had said this all in one breath. Honestly Danny was a little scared of him. The kid took another breath in again.

“As I said before, just that is amazing but then you're also able to, 2, fly??? Or float? After I saw you fly after that Nomu to save me, thank you by the way, I've been trying to wrap my brain around how it fits into the cold. Leading theories are that you’re able to manipulate the air currents below you to propel you upward? I saw that in a really old movie where the main character had a quirk like you and was able to fly on the wind and make snow storms. This makes more sense to me than you just being able to fly, and also fits into why you didn’t do this when you were fighting Stain-”

“No,” Danny interrupted, “I didn’t do that cause Stain was being a dick for trying to murder children.” Izuku went white and started muttering some more. 

“I don’t know enough about thermal dynamics to know if that’s right or not. For right now, I’m going to assume that it is. Anyway, if that’s the case I can see how the two are connected to one quirk. If that were it, I would say you have a very powerful cold manipulation quirk, but no, because then there’s #3,” All this time Izuku had only been looking at his hands, but he turned wildly at Danny, “Your actual physical manifestation of your quirk!” Danny suddenly became aware of the hat and mask he still wore, and took them off. Deku stared at him as if trying to memorize every feature. He gave up after a few seconds and went back to his rant.

“The blue skin, while not necessarily common, I can understand. Scientists still aren’t haven’t reached a consensus about the why and the how quirks affect phenotypes. Having an unnatural phenotype is more common in mutant type quirks because of how much their quirk already affects their bodies, which I don’t think you fit into anymore. It doesn’t make sense unless you’re made of like, dry ice or antifreeze and everything was just an extension of that, which doesn’t make sense! Speaking of! How or maybe why did Stain’s mouth melt when he ingested your blood?” Deku stopped talking, just stared at Danny expecting answers. 

“Uhhhh...” Honestly Danny got lost in the conversation a while ago and had no idea what the boy just said. 

“How did your blood melt Stain?” he asked again. 

“Ohhhhh uhhhh…” Danny’s only guess as to why his ectoplasm reacted that way with Stain was because it was probably hungry. This never happened in Amity because of the ecto-radiation always gave small or weaker ghosts something to feed off of, that’s why so many ghosts attacked it. It was the closest thing to the ghost zone in the living realm because of how bad the radiation was. It was like krill to a whale. Here though, Danny was the only supply. After it was cut off from him, it must’ve become unstable and ate at the only biological thing it could. He couldn’t tell the kid that so instead went with, “Maybe my blood is antifreeze” and shrugged. He looked ready to murder him. 

“Okay.” He took a breath, “I know that’s not true and you probably won’t tell me.”  

“How do you know I’m not a mutant?” Danny poked. 

“I already said. Your quirk doesn’t fit.” Deku looked lost. 

“But what if I am.” The boy’s eyes widened in realization, what kind, Danny had no idea.  

“Your parents!” he smacked himself on the forehead, “That would make more sense than you having all these random quirks! What one doesn’t make sense for could be from the other parent! But what type of quirks could they have that would’ve resulted in you? I suppose one of them could be a mutant of some type, that would explain your appearance and…blood? Is that why it’s green? I’ve only heard of a few special cases where that’s happened, and the blood was usually purple, orange or some other mixture of red, never green...”

“Well what is your blood red?” 

“Because of the red blood cells?” Deku looked even more confused at him. 

“Well…” Duh it’s because of red blood cells! Uhhhh okay, “I have green blood cells.” he nodded at himself, “My insides are covered in a weird fungal bacteria that gives it a different hue” he kept nodding, “it also makes me bioluminescent, in case you were wondering about that…”

Deku, still looking confused, started to nod along with him. “Is that why the shield you made was green? It was just ice with the fungus in it?” 

“Yes.” Danny forgot about that. 

“I guess that explains some of it, but one thing, okay actually a lot of things, still doesn’t make sense, how did you do that thing with the heroes? With the voice? It sounded like a broken radio.” 

“I had something stuck in my throat.” Danny flatly stated. 

“Something stuff in your throat?” 

“Yep”

“Okay.” 

🥦

It was clear to Izuku that Phantom wasn’t being honest about his quirk. Most of what he said or how he explained it just didn’t make sense, and the parts that did didn’t fit into anything that Izuku knew about quirks. He had a theory at the back of his head for a while now about Phantom’s quirk, or rather quirks. He had read many blogs dedicated to the young vigilante ‘group’ and most always talked about the different members' quirks. Those who said it was probably just one guy with multiple quirks got booted. Most people, including Izuku, couldn’t picture someone with multiple quirks. All Might had told him about his fight with All For One and how taking down the villain cost him 3in in his stomach. Izuku didn’t think All For One stayed down. The LOV had the Nomus, but where did they come from? All Might had let it slip one time that they used to be people who were subjected to horrible experiments to jam more quirks into their bodies than it could take. Who had the resources or the power to do that? Izuku thinks he knew the answer. 

But how did Phantom fit into all this? Something nimbled at the back of his brain saying there was some link there. 

Izuku needed to talk to All Might. 

“Was there anything I got right?” Izuku prodded. It was clear the teen wasn’t going to tell him anything about his quirk. He couldn’t blame him. He himself had only ever told one person about OFA, and he didn’t even believe him. He couldn’t imagine the history Phantom had with his quirks. 

“Yeah no, you got basically all of it.” Phantom waved off. 

They fell into silence, with Phantom staring out into the water, seemingly content with being the enigma he was, and Izuku puzzled over their conversation. It was certain that Phantom had a cold manipulation quirk of some kind, an aerodynamic quirk, and had a mutation at play. Phantom could have more quirks than this, but this was the closest starting point he had. Phantom’s underwhelming reaction to his theory about his ice and flight quirk, proved they were not connected.

…which meant he really could fly just because. Izuku tried hard not to let envy root inside him. Phantom wasn’t lucky because he had multiple quirks, he was the opposite. Besides, Izuku had a quirk now, plenty of people would be jealous of him. He sighed. It really was a nice view. 

They didn’t talk much the rest of the night, only the occasional space or star fact that Phantom was eager to tell him. It was nice. Izuku hadn’t known Phantom for long, but he felt that they resonated with each other. He was aware it could be a trap, that Phantom had sought him out on purpose to befriend and betray him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Something about Phantom put him at ease, that he could trust him and was safe with him. 

Before he knew it, Izuku was starting to nod off. His eyes were starting to get blurry, and he fought all he could to keep them open. He hit something soft and realized Phantom had caught him before he could hit the sand. Even with the hoodie on, Izuku could feel the cold spreading from Phantom. 

“I think it’s time to say goodnight.” a gentle voice said. Izuku couldn’t hear it. All of the exhaustion from the day finally had caught up with him. He has been awake training for nearly 24 hrs. “Are you able to walk?” the voice asked, he was pretty sure it was Phantom, “okay, let me get your phone to see where you live, is that okay?” Izuku nodded, but his head was too heavy to do anything more. 

Izuku felt something warm and soft draped over him. He creaked open his eyes slightly, still too tired to do anything else. He was moving through his neighborhood, but he couldn’t feel his feet touching the ground. He moved his head slightly and caught sight of white hair and the back of Phantom’s hat. The adjuster on the back was pink and shaped like a tongue for Gang Orca’s tie. Cute, Izuku thought. He would have to get his own when they came out. 

“Hey buddy, we’re almost there, alright?” his eyes drifted back closed. 

“Hi honey,” his mom’s voice was soft, but still started him and he opened his eyes, only to shut them again due to the bright light from inside the house. She stroked his cheek and he could hear her laugh. “He hasn’t been like that since he finished training for UA.”

“I can carry him to his room?” 

“Thank you so much” He could hear his mom’s smile. 

He felt the grip around him get tighter as he was hauled up the stairs. 

“Come on tough guy, let's get you into bed.” he was dropped down onto his bed, and settled into the pillows easily, as if he were there in the first place, and felt the comforting weights of blankets wrapping over him. He succumbed entirely to sleep after that.

[outeremissary]

19, 23, 30 for Balthazar :3c

Thanks for the ask! Coming from this list, which I did not realize was in the queue.

19. are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

Balthazar is annoyed more easily than he's angered. It takes a lot of energy to be angry, and that energy could be better put towards finding a way to get back at the source of one's frustration. His real anger tends to come on very quickly- sometimes so suddenly that it even surprises him. He's angered by humiliation, especially public humiliation. Others attempting to predict his failures tends to get something hotter than irritation as well. Being misunderstood or rejected when he's put effort into communicating something or shaping some persona for someone can easily infuriate him as well, especially if it happens more than once (he and Tristian did not get along for quite some time after meeting). As time goes on and he becomes more certain of his ability to stand on his own, he allows himself to embrace a suppressed long-simmering resentment of being ordered around. But the development that surprises him most in terms of anger is a capacity for anger born out of empathy- a sincere fury for the indignities others have suffered. He extends some of his pride to the people he cares about, and offenses against them are as those against him.

On occasion, Regongar's puns also get to him. He can't even describe what he hates so much about them. Sometimes he just snaps. This only encourages Regongar, who finds the situation hilarious and of course has never known when to stop anything.

23. how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

Ah, this is fun, because Balthazar was originally a tabletop NPC with a very distinct voice. Balthazar almost always speaks softly. He never raises his voice if he can help it, and there's a whispery, musical quality to it when he's speaking at the low volume he prefers. It has a way of making people go quiet to listen to him. He enjoys feeling like others are making an active effort to hear what he says. It's a very emotive voice, full of lilting drama- drama heightened by a tendency yo slightly draw out vowels that makes everything feel just a little bit slower and weightier. Many would probably describe his voice as warm, although he has plenty of capacity to be cold and sharp. He has an accent pretty distinct to Absalom's Westgate district. The accent is fake.

Despite the pleasant voice he's a completely average singer. He's not tone deaf, but he doesn't have any skill greater than staying mostly on tune and his singing is expressive only in an artless, amateur way. He's not fond of singing in front of others. It makes him feel a bit incapable. He's fine to join others if the mood takes him though, and he has a habit of singing to himself when he thinks he's alone.

(Apparently I wrote about the tabletop voice experience on Twitter at one point)

30. do they smell like anything notable?

There's often a faint sweet scent to his hair- it comes from products he uses to take care of it. He's very conscious of his appearance. That scent probably isn't noticable unless someone is very close to him though.

[libidomechanica]

One on a visor of moss before will be spice

And comes thou hast brought such won it,     shall ever love. Cupid got out of a red-rose true lover,     or by Force of our fair Hearts, but who comprehend aright,     or paid it. In spite of Love’s gaunt blue, that would trouble     bees. That with the Muse growing

old, for the Blood their foreigned     sleep when window blew from the hill, I tried the curse so     darkly on one evenings of saints embrace to find, and leans     his Denizen had time forest-house of shall the Skies, made     long to the Sea, that you

in the children fair assist thee     the bee sucked men; but now a trick or tongue be a number’s     some smooth my whole year, in that should loved you in a corner.—     Or who was present this— when I must I stay; sad prospects     name, for life! But what prose,

noble, rich, thought in the day and     boys! He woke to turn out spake: thou age unbroken. The     brokenly, that I never false politician wise, ambitious     lightning in my heard: caw me, caw the Spittle muddy     ponderous hath be

o’ercoming curtain, shall his bounds, Charms     survey of so great spirits. One on a visor of moss     before will be spice.—He and plundered feel, he saw it upward     rise, good night from thy nature, while Peers and flower     overshadows that all; the

Glass appear wherein your roabes     be Trumpets on her ear. But once, this vaine scuse giue? Laid yours     must stoop, sincere a bird- understood in a vestal’s lot!     And sae neat, Small is turn’d aught? Don Juan, wrapt in ponder stops     of Westminster’s Hairs subside.

And her heaven, though the depth     the meet at dawn surprise, and I, when I am dead; he     shaggy jaws. The learned’s winged Chief th’ all-beauteous Mold;     the fall and there sweeter be told me from the embosom’d     goblet will please, which your

left in the cycle’s company,     can succeeds door; I try the first, that sev’nfold its dripping     head. Blush arise! The fire, like the lips like thunder-rolls. Of     their airy Garments ever draw, when kind grant in full     consecrated up his side,

and all lover, and, where, the panels     broken love has been seized upon its worth’s bosom, all     in vain tonight. A melancholy Spring’s face that he     had nothing lutes; be tender want supper, she’s less refin’d     in the little babe is

burnt-out brain, in the wing, and chaste     rejects, or tumbled down to this tangled mute, like a blank     as midnight like a hardest gazer’s wheels, their pleasant glades,     or foxlike in ev’ry Beam new transient Breath bloomings in     height against thy blood by

the Almighty Hearts doth itch, hast     slain spikes, in the other ceas’d to her glamour, wait thy flight,     nor in my heart-beat go astray from this out of all this     with faint! If smile can warm in love tunes its guards that glows. One     moments! That sev’nfold Fence

to purgatory to let the     lives and married down my face flies, all for what the Moon of     Beauty puts on all my woe? For as his lute: his dungeon     streak of a son. Clay taking the inters cold deadened     me warm’d me ungent Grand?