#the textures this brush i used left in her hair are Interesting

[shierak-inavva]

watched phantom of the opera again last night and look all i'm saying is there's similarities, all right ? and if u saw me post that first one earlier then oh well i didn't tag it

plus if there was an elowen-coded scene in this whole thing it was 100% the 'pitiful creature of darkness' scene and thats a fact

[shubblelive]

— HOW IT WORKS

summary : you have never liked wilbur soot. the two of you just always seemed to butt heads. you’re civil, though, especially because you have mutual friends. one of whom seems to have an ulterior motive.

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing, alcohol/drinking (not to excess) protective!best friend! niki is pissed at wilbur the ENTIRE time, reader has hair that reaches at least their shoulder (type, texture and colour aren’t described), tommy being a shithead

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers

pronouns : she/her

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, cc!nihachu, cc!tommyinnit (mentioned)

word count : 1.4k

note : ty for 300, can’t even begin to explain how much i appreciate it tagging @starsyoubreaklikesugardust because of how lovely she is. title stolen from one of my favourite taylor songs ofc

“please, niki,”

he’d been begging for nearly 15 minutes at this point, but niki was stone faced. she was one of his best friends, he knew all the tricks to make her give in. he’d complimented her, talking about her new hair colour and how it suited her. he’d made himself seem as pathetic as possible so she’d be more likely to help. he’d given her begging eyes, trying as hard as he could to convince her.

he only had one more trick left, and after that it would be pure brute force: asking over and over again until she got pissed off enough to either yell at him to fuck off or she’d agree.

“but, niki, please,” she huffed as wilbur started talking again. “imagine,” he pulled his face up beside hers to guide her on his journey of persuasion. “events in which you can hang out with me and not feel guilty. events in which you can hang out with her and not feel guilty. picture not having to be weird and squirmy around me when you say you can’t film with me because you’re filming with her. not having-”

“enough!” niki put her phone down, looking at wilbur, unimpressed. “you know she’d kill me, right?”

“pretty sure she’d thank you if it works out the way i want it to,” wilbur said innocently, and niki picked up a pillow, ready to hit him with it. “come on! for me? for your best friend?”

“the answer is no wilbur,”

“but-”

“no, i already have to listen to you whine about how much she doesn’t like you, i don’t want to have to listen you talk about how much she does.” niki shook her head. “i’m sorry. i can’t help you.”

lo and behold, thanks to brute force it was less than twenty minutes before she finally agreed, and wilbur walked out of her flat armed with his new knowledge.

there was only another 2 weeks before he had to use it. tommy had finally moved out of his shithole apartment, and he had a small get together with a few other brighton streamers. including you.

your cardigan had slipped off your shoulder, and he resisted the urge to pull it back up. not in a predatory “no one should see your shoulders” sort of way, but more in a protective, wanting you to be warm way.

you’d first met wilbur six months ago, and he’d declare it was love at first sight. niki had actually been the one to introduce you, and he’d never be able to thank her enough for all the help she’d given regarding you. the first night, you’d were lovely. all soft smiles and laughing too hard at his shit jokes. he’d brushed a lock of hair off your shoulder and it had given you both goosebumps. wilbur had decided right then and there that before the night was over, he was going to kiss you. or at least attempt to, unless you weren’t interested.

he’d left you alone for fifteen minutes to go get a drink and to use the bathroom, and on his way back he’d been apprehended by tommy. the bastard had made fun of him for how whipped he looked the entire night, and wilbur had been too self conscious to admit he wanted to go back to talk to you. when he’d finally lost tommy’s interest, he’d also apparently lost yours.

you avoided him for the rest of the night, sending short replies whenever he messaged you until finally, he stopped.

he hadn’t dated anyone since, putting it down to it simply not being something important right now. he pointedly ignored the fact that he still really wanted to kiss you.

now, he watched you sip your drink while you chatted with tommy. someone new showed up and tommy had to excuse himself to say hi, and that was when wilbur approached. "fancy seeing you here."

you smiled politely, trying to mask your evident distaste for him. "hi,"

"you look really nice," he tugged gently on the sleeve of your cardigan. "'s this new?"

you pulled back. "thank you. and no, i've had it for a while. i think i see niki, i should go talk to her. have a nice night, wilbur."

perfectly polite, if a little brusque. you floated off, pulling the cardigan back up over your shoulder as you reached your best friend. "what did he want?" niki asked curiously.

"just trying to talk to me," you didn't wanna start a fight, so you waved him off. niki, however, kept pushing.

"yeah? about what?"

"doesn't matter, nik-"

"why do you hate him?"

you shut your mouth. "i don't-"

"yes, you do. and i love you both, and i just want to fix it but i don't know how!" she sounded upset, and you frowned. she took a gulp of the rest of the water in her glass. "i'm going to get enother drink. i'll be back."

so you were left alone in tommy's crowded living room, having pissed off the one person you'd really want to talk to. the only other person who wasn't speaking to someone else was wilbur.

there was no point in staying at this point. you finished your drink and grabbed your bag, stepping out into the hallway to call a taxi. it was raining outside, and you were huddled under the awning as best you could, pulling your cardigan back over your shoulder.

the metal door to the building buzzed as it was open. it was wilbur, black coat pulled tight around him. he shrugged it off, shoving it towards you. rain had started trickling down your back, and you were shaking uncontrollably.

"are you insane?" he had to yell for you to hear him. when you didn’t take the coat, he tossed it at you. you caught it instinctively. "what are you doing?"

"going home." you replied, throwing it over your shoulders, leaving your arms out. "what are you doing here?"

"i came to check on you!"

"we're not friends, wilbur!" you rolled your eyes, rain pounding the top of your head and soaking you to the bone. "what do you want?"

"why do you hate me?"

your voice went up an octave. "why does everyone keep asking me that? i don't hate you! ok, we're fine. just go back inside, my cab's coming." you looked at your phone and your face fell. they'd cancelled on you. "fuck.”

"let me drive you home," he begged. "please."

"we are not friends!" you emphasised. "wilbur, come on-"

"you know i'm in love with you, right?" you stopped in your tracks, mouth left open. "i have been since i first met you! i thought you were the prettiest girl i've ever seen, and i was going to kiss you. the very first night we met."

tears had welled up in your eyes, blending with the rain. he wanted to wipe them away, but he kept talking. "and i had just worked up the courage to, when suddenly you decided you hated me! why? what did i do? please, just tell me!"

"you're being cruel, wilbur," you sobbed. he was taunting you. telling you what you wanted to hear, making you admit to how you felt only to shove it in your face. you were being pathetic.

"i love you," he said quietly. "and if you don't feel the same, then that's fine. but this has been the longest six months of my entire life. and it's because i was a coward. i was too afraid to tell you how i felt."

"you talked to tommy that night," your voice was low, so soft he almost couldn't hear you over the rain. "kid was making fun of you, said you were being a simp, or something." you wiped a tear away furiously. "and you said. "her?" as if the idea was so terrible. "sure." you said. you laughed, and then came right back to my side and tried to flirt with me."

he faltered. he did say that. it had been loud that night. he was a little drunk, and irritated with his younger brother figure, and all he had wanted was to get back to you. tommy wouldn’t stop making fun of him and he wanted to kiss you so bad his mind went blank. he was an asshole.

“believe me, darling,” he pleaded. “i know i was a dick, and i hurt you. but that was a lie. i wanted tommy off my back, so i said it to shut him up. but trust me, it’s not true at all. i love you, really. and i’ll wait forever and ever, if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.” there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “please, let me drive you home.”

so, you ended up in the front seat of wilbur soot’s car on your way back to your place. you’d noticed that he’d nearly died of shock when you’d let him hold your hand with his free one. you could only imagine how he’d react when you let him kiss you on the sidewalk in front of your house.

he’d have to thank niki later.

[hoejosatoru]

Stress Reliever

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Chishiya (Alice in Borderland)

Summary: When y/n first meets Chishiya, she does not like him. However, when they are forced to become roommates at the beach, her opinion slowly starts to change. When Chishiya has a suggestion on how to manage stress, y/n can’t help but be intrigued. Ignore the boring ass title I could not think of anything better

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Readers skin and hair color/texture not specified, not proof read, teasing, eye contact, fingering, p in v sex, cream pie. Tried to keep Chishiya in character (bc I think he would be such a tease and lil shit but in a sexy way) but if he’s ooc oopsies MDNI

“What are you doing here?” You huffed, standing in the doorway of your new room. Or what was supposed to be your room. So why the hell was Chishiya of all people already there.

“I knew you’d find your way here eventually,” he replied, ignoring your question. The ‘here’ was the beach compound. You’d heard whispers of the place since you started playing and finally found it. It was exactly what you expected - though you weren’t sure what you expected in the first place - but you agreed to join. Not that you really had much of a choice once the caught you lurking around the place.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you pressed.

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “Seemed too obvious a question to answer. I live here.”

You scowled. “But I was assigned to this room.” You doubled checked the room number you were given and the one on the door. You were in the right place.

“Guess that makes us roommates then,” Chishiya replied, stretching lazily. His indifference grated your nerves.

“But you’re a guy.”

Chishiya snorted with laughter. “We’re in a lawless land playing life or death games and you think people care about rooms being coed?” You didn’t want to admit that it was pretty stupid to care about that, so you just grumbled a ‘whatever’ and shut the door behind you. 

You truly could not believe the odds that you would end up with him as a roommate. You met Chishiya in one of your first games, which happened to be a game of wits. Unfortunately, most of your competitors were lacking in that department, which led to their demise. You, however, figured it out quickly, which Chishiya took note of.

He made some comment about being surprised someone was able to get it, which you took as a condescending crack. You’d been watching him since the start of the game, noting how calm he was. Almost to the point of smugness. The comment, you felt, confirmed your initial impression. 

Little did you know that Chishiya was also watching you, (though he does watch everybody) taking an interest in you. You were much more calm than anyone else in the calm, save for him. He was also impressed with your cleverness, seeing through the trick of the game almost as quickly as he did. Almost.

You’d played only one other game with him after that, which you left you feeling the same way: he was a smug know it all. He had tried to engage in casual conversation with you, but you brushed him off. You weren’t looking to get close to people in these games. You’d seem first hand how they would pit people together and tear them apart. You didn’t need anymore emotional turmoil. Besides, you could definitely see the two of you clashing, what with his attitude.

Chishiya, however, was draw to your attitude. He appreciated your intelligence of course, since far too many people seemed to lack it around here. But he liked that you challenged him, he even liked when you rolled your eyes or scowled at him. The more you tried to push him away, the more he felt the desire to get close to you. To break down those walls and get to know more about you.

“You better not be a shitty roommate,” you stated, sitting down on the bed adjacent to his. It was the comfiest thing you sat on in weeks.

“Oh don't worry,” he smiled, “I’m an angel.” 

You wouldn’t go as far as to call him an angel, but you couldn’t deny that Chishiya was a good roommate. He didn’t go out partying and drinking like everyone else here, nor did he ever leave a mess. You still found him to be a bit smug at times, but your stance on him softened a bit as yo got to know him. Though your pride was preventing you from showing it that much.

Your visas often expired at similar times, leading you two to playing a lot more games together. You couldn’t deny that you felt safe with Chishiya being there. Well at least as safe as one could be in these games. The two of you silently formed an alliance and looked out for each other. You never let yourself get complacent, but having Chishiya around always made you feel that, no matter the odds, you would clear the game. 

Something that you couldn’t understand, though, was just how calm was. You prided yourself on being able to keep yourself calm during the games, but you still very much felt the stress. Chishiya, however, was on another level. He seemed bored, as if you were just playing for fun and not your lives. It was almost unnerving.

After a particularly difficult game, you couldn't resist asking him about when you got back to your room. “How do you do it?”

“Hmm? Do what?” Chishiya asked from his bed.

“Stay so calm. It’s... spooky,” you replied. You laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling. 

Chishiya let out a huff of laughter. “You look pretty calm yourself.”

“Yeah I look calm, but it takes a lot of work to stay that way. It doesn’t seem to bother you at all,” you replied. 

Chishiya smirked. “I didn’t know you were watching me so closely.” Actually he did, but he’d keep that to himself for now.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you deflect instead of just answering.”

Chishiya made a noise of amusement. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t really have an answer. I can’t change my circumstances, I don't see the point of freaking out about it.”

You sighed. As if it was that simple. “If I wasn’t your roommate, I’d be convinced you were an alien or a robot or something. I’m not fully convinced you don’t have to plug yourself in to charge up while I’m sleeping.”

Chishiya laughed, but said in earnest. “I am human, I can promise you that.” A silence fell between the two of you after that. You were often quiet together; it was one of the things you did appreciate about him. This silence, however, felt charged in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

After some time, Chishiya spoke again. “You knew, there is a pretty effective way to destress.”

“What’s that?”

“Sex.”

Your head whipped around to him. You couldn’t have heard that right. “Sex?”

Chishiya smirked at your astonishment. “Yeah, sex. You know what that is right? Don’t tell me you’re a virgin,” he teased.

Your cheeks burned. “I am not a virgin,” you replied and immediately regretted it. It was true, but that absolutely sounded like something a virgin would say. It only made Chishiya laugh harder. “Oh shut up,” you grumbled, tossing a pillow at him. 

“Someone’s testy.” 

“So what? That’s your secret?” you questioned, “You just go around fucking people?” You couldn’t imagine how he had time for that. He never brought anyone to your room, thank god, and was never out for long.

“No,” Chishiya snorted, “I haven’t slept with anyone since coming here. I was just pointing out a fact. Sex helps with stress.”

Talking about sex with Chishiya was naturally making your brain think about having sex with Chishiya and that made your body react in a way you weren't expecting. You were flushed, feeling a prickle of desire. God were you really so stressed that you were lusting after him?

Sensing your hesitation, Chishiya continued. “I didn’t think I would have to spell it out for you, but it was almost an invitation.” You looked bewildered, which amused him. “Come here.”

Despite your hesitations, you followed his instruction. Chishiya sat at the edge of his bed and you stood between his legs. He looked up and down your body with a lopsided grin. You had grown accustomed to having to wear a bikini at all times at the beach; it was nothing new for him to see you like this. Yet, you felt so exposed under his gaze. You almost moved to cover yourself, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Chishiya’s hands found the back of your thighs, ghosting across your skin. “You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” His voice was just above a whisper. One hand started to toy with your bikini bottom string. You held your breath as his eyes flicked up to yours. “Thought about me fucking you? You want it, don’t you?”

Your heard was quickened the longer his hands were on you. It felt so good to be touched by someone else in such a gentle way. That combined with his words was making you almost dizzy. “Seems like you’ve thought about,” you replied.

Chishiya yanked you forward by the back of your legs, making you fall into his lap. You legs landed on either side of his hips, leaving you straddling him. His face was closer yours now, the eye contact making your insides curl. “You’re that thing,” he teased, calling back to the comment you made. His hand was on the back of your neck now and you found yourself drifting impossibly closer to him. “But I’m not afraid to admit when I want someone thing.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip, making you let out a shaky breath. “So tell me, y/n, do you want me, too?”

You let go of the breath you were holding. “Yes.” Chishiya smirked triumphantly. He started to lean and you followed. Your lips were just a millimeter apart when he pulled back just to laugh at the frustrated look on your face.

You scowled. “Assho-”

His lips connected to yours before you could finish. God he was a good kisser. His lips moved against yours perfectly, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. Your body reacted so quickly to him, aching with desire. The need for more.

Chishiya sensed it, smirking into the kiss. His hands trailed up your back, finding the string of your bikini top. He undid the knot, tossing it to the side. He squeezed your tits as your kissed, pinching your nipples to make you gasp. You pushed his sweatshirt off his body, before yanking his shirt off.

“Mmm, someone’s eager, huh?” He commented.

“Shut up.”

In a flash you were flipped over and caged in by Chishiya’s body. “You’re not in the position to be telling me to shut up.” You narrowed your eyes at him, which made the corner of his lip curl up. You had to admit, him on top of you was a nice view.

You threaded your fingers through his blond locks, pulling him back in. His chest was pressed completely against yours. The weight of him and the warmth of his skin on yours soothed a nagging deep inside you. You wanted him closer. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him in. You rolled your hips up to meet his, grinding against him. A soft moan slipped from his slips, giving you a sense of satisfaction.

Chishiya’s hand came down, pressing your hips back into the mattress. You were about to huff in protest, but stopped when he started toying with the strings on the side of your bikini. He kept his lips on yours as he worked. Your pussy throbbed with anticipation while slowly, so slowly, pulled the knot undone. Instead of taking it off right away, he traced the line of where your bikini met your lower stomach to your other hip. His feather light touch gave you goosebumps.

He repeated his actions on the other side. You were buzzing with anticipation for him to pull the bottoms off you. Of course, he didn't right away. He just continued to kiss you, his fingers ghosting of your lower stomach, inner thighs.

“Stop being a fuck tease,” you grumbled.

“Oh? And what would you like me to do, y/n?” Chishiya mused. His eyes were locked on yours as he continued to let his fingers dance over your skin. You lost a bit of your nerve under his stare.

“You know what I want.”

Chishiya smirked. “I’m not a mind reader.”

You groaned. “Touch me! Finger me- fuck do something!”

He chuckled, hooking his finger into the fabric, but not pulling it down. “A please would be nice.”

You were too desperate to fight. He was so close, yet so far from touching you. You couldn’t stand it. “Please.”

“Good girl.” He pulled the bikini off of you completely. His eyes scanned your naked body, making you feel shy under his critical stare. Still, you refused to show it and let him have his look. “Pretty.” His finger slid through your wetness, making you gasp. “And soaked. Didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

“Are you gonna do something or just talk all day?” you snapped. Chishiya didn’t challenged your remark, instead he slid a finger inside you. You let out a content sigh as he curled it, easily finding that spot inside you that made you weak. He licked and sucked at your breasts as he worked his fingers over you. He was more skilled than you cared to admit, easily making the curl of pleasure in your lower stomach. 

Chishiya played with your clit, rolling and pinching it, noting how each different move made you react. He slid a second finger inside you, stretching you and pumping faster. He loved how squirmed, how your chest heaved with ragged, pleasured breaths. He kept a neutrally smug look on his face, but internally his composure wavered. He wanted to know how your pussy would feel squeezing his cock instead of his fingers.

“Fuck, Chishiya, don’t stop,” you moaned. It had been so long since you felt this good. Chishiya rolled your clit just as you liked, sending you over the edge. He sat up so he could watch as you cum. He loved how your head fell back with pleasure, the sweet sounds that escaped you, the way your body fully submitted to his touch. 

“You look good like that,” he teased as you caught your breath. He got himself out of his shorts, your cheeks flushing at the sight of his naked body. He was bigger than you thought he would be, thicker too. “You realize you’re staring, right?”

You went red and mumbled, “Sorry.”

Chishiya laughed at you. “That's alright, I like when you watch me.” He grabbed the back of your thighs and yanked you closer to him. “I see you doing it all the time, you know.” He let his tip slide through your slick pussy lips. If you were so distracted by that, you may have been more embarrassed by his words. “I like it a lot. So I want you to watch while I fuck you.” He pressed his tip into your throbbing hole, but didn’t go any further. He leaned over, getting his face closer to yours. His voice dropped to a whisper.“You’re gonna look me in the eye when  I make you cum, got it?” 

You were barely audible when your replied, “Yes.” You liked him like this. Suddenly his smugness wasn’t annoying, rather it was an aphrodisiac. His demeanor, his voice, his stare, all of it just made you want him more.

Chishiya kept his eyes on yours as he slowly pushed into you, allowing you both to enjoy every inch. You sighed at the sweet stretch he have you, loving the feeling of being so full. Chishiya gripped your hips as he thrust into you. He was right, you felt even better wrapped around him like this. “Feels fucking amazing.”

He fucked into you with ease, each long, deep thrust making your head spin. You couldn’t believe how good he was, it almost wasn't fair. His cock hit that sweet spot inside you, making you gasp. “Please Chishiya,” you begged, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Feels good, huh?” he questioned, his thumb finding your clit. He rubbed circles over the sensitive bud. Your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure almost went over to overstimulation. “Look at me, y/n. Let me see you cum.” You forced your eyes open upon his demand. Making eye contact with him made everything feel more intense. Within moments that knot of pleasure inside you snapped, spreading a warm surge of pleasure all over your body.

“Fuc-nngh ‘Shiya!”

Chishiya couldn’t hold on with your pussy squeezing him like a vice while you moaned his name like that. His hips stuttered as he let out a low groan of your name mixed with curses. He fucked you slow and deep, letting you both savor it.

When you both finally finished, he laid himself down next you. You felt compelled to curl into him, not wanting to be without his warmth. For a second you were afraid you made a mistake, but then his arm wrapped around you and pulled you on to his chest. It was the first time you felt soothed since entering the games.

“I hate to admit it, but you were right. I feel less stressed,” you said.

“I love when you admit I’m right,” Chishiya mused, running his fingers along your spine. “While you’re in a good mood, I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

“I arranged for us to share a room here.”

If he had told you that a week ago, you may have been annoyed. But now? “I have a confession, too. I’m glad you did.” 

[randominji]

𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟐: 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐄

: please read the previous chapters before this one if you have yet to have done so!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: None... (maybe spelling mistakes)

You awake, a dull pain underlying the numbness of your bolt locked joints, and the comforting stench of the breezy nature fills your nose. Even before opening your eyes, you already know you're not home. The air around you is free roaming, curling up against you with careless sways of their grown drunken ways.

Groggily, you open your eyes. Your vision is heavily sleep-blurred and misleading, like the shapes of many shades dancing across your vision, colours of both dark and deep play the part perfectly, like the missing picture to the jigsaw base. Bringing your hands up, you gradually rub away that drowsy state of mind and vision with an intense itch at the back of your throat. You let out a tremendous yawn, jaw dropping to the hilt as a gust of warm air escapes past your lips, brushing and caressing the sensitive skin as it does so, tingling your stiffened spine ever so slightly before buckling back up again.

Eventually, the sleep dazed feeling washes back a tide, and the infrastructure of a wooden ceiling greets you with a glare, supporting beams almost cursing at you in the moment. You blink before sitting up. Upon the rise of your body comes the drape of a thin fabric. It was strung from your left shoulder as it stretched beyond your feet, the soft cotton texture of it makes your skin itch slightly, a faint restraint to your relaxation.

You mumble something to yourself as you drag your body to the edge of the large bed, letting your legs plant themselves into the planked flooring below.

Your eyes skim over the exposed vines that reap along the walls and swaddle around the span of the bed frame. How parts of a tree protrude through the walls and twirl around each other. The room you're in is a mess of nature's child. Though, no real identification of life had yet to have been found present.

Dragging the rest of your body off the mattress, you wobble a tad, finding a lack of balance within your knees as you stabilise yourself on a set of drawers. It takes a moment before you find your balance once again, just spending a moment composing yourself when a jiggling sound captures your attention.

Hesitantly, you look up and direct your attention to the sound- your eyes greeting a door as it dauntinly pushes open.

You weren't quite sure what you expected to see, a demon perhaps, maybe even a goblin given the strangeness of your situation, but to see a girl that looked not too different from yourself wasn’t it. Her hair was a silk kissed blend of blonde streaks, soft bangs hanging delicately just over her darker eyebrows. Her face and body were that of clear, pale skin that seemed to shine so delicately under the only source of light. The moon’s faint beams descend through the space behind her- exposed by the open door- and it only makes her look more… ethereal. You didn’t want to be seen as creepy, afterall, you would’ve been punished for doing so at home, but she truly was something out of an old tale your parents used to tell you about. Though, despite your clear interest in the girl's physical appearance, there was something else beyond the small of her nose and the white scraps of her clothing. There was something set dead within the depths of her dark eyes, an uncertain annoyance? Hatred? Fear?

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You quickly straighten yourself, pulling away from the drawers as you pull on the bottom of your shirt slightly, feeling almost intimidated by the deeper of her voice. “Home? I mean, i’m not supposed to be here anyway-”

“No… no, you’re not supposed to be here, and yet you are. Why?” She remains almost statue-like, standing still, arms by her sides as she just stares… and stares… and stares.

“I’m looking for someone” She scoffs, eyes rolling drastically at your words. “What?”

The girl blinks, her face going stale again,”if you’re looking for someone, there’s a good chance they’re gone. Shouldn’t you know that already?”

“Shouldn’t I know that?” You furrow your eyebrows together- forming somewhat of a line “I do know that, yes. But he won’t be dead yet!”

“How can you be so sure?” You could feel a certain heat bubble within you, a feeling of irritation with how she’s remaining so calm and rude at the same time. She was almost cocky with her words, like she’s better than you, like you’re nothing compared to her.

“I can feel it. He’s smart. He’ll be alright… So if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find him.” You had begun to move towards her, taking no notice of the way her eyes narrow slightly as you approach. Though, you had noticed the sudden grasp upon your sleeved arm when you had gone to squeeze past the blonde girl.

“Your friend can wait. I mean, if you're so sure he’ll be alright, then you should trust that thought” She turns her head to look at you, eyes almost burning through yours. “Stay here”

“Stay… here?” You shake your head, tugging your arm away from her grasp, letting the loose fabric of your shirt uncrumple itself. “Why the heck would I do that? You clearly don’t want me here. We both have better things to do”

“You're right, I don’t want you here, but unfortunately for the both of us, I have no say in the matter. If you want to see him again, you will be staying”

“Is that a threat?” You half mumble, looking outside the door, eyes trying to catch a glimpse of something- anything. However, it grows apparent that there is no clear escape, especially since beyond the door appears to just be a balcony of some sort.

“I’m not the threat here”

Slowly, your eyes draw back to the girl, confusion evident within your voice as you open your mouth to speak again “...what do you mean?”

She averts her gaze, eyes searching beyond the door before she steps back outside, residing to her new position by the railing that consists mostly of wooden beams, held together by worn rope and some type of rusted screws. “You’re safe for the moment, but they’ll be back” she states as you step outside of the hut- only now noticing how it was more of a treehouse than a single room.

You join her, looking over the edge of your elevated stance, your sight connecting to the lowly lit ground beneath. A few lanterns light the area around, mostly outlining the base of trees and more noticeably any hazardous items left around- like larger rocks or areas of randomly grown flowers. The placements of these lanterns made it easy to identify the layout of the area- as you’d suspect was their purpose. “For the moment?”

“God, do you always ask so many questions?” She glares at you momentarily.

“I think I have a right to ask questions, especially as you kidnapped me” You glare back, mind wandering to the questioning if that’s why your knees hurt so much. Maybe they had done something to your knees while getting you to such a high place, even more so since the only way up here- from what you can see- is a ladder not too far away.

“It’s not kidnapping if we’re saving you from certain death”

“As if” you sigh, letting your arms rest on the small railing separating you from a twenty foot fall. “And even if that was true, what would cause me such harm? My parents have only ever warned me of getting lost and a few obviously fake monsters. You make it sound like there’s a murderer out here”

“Fake monsters?” She furrows her brows, looking at you curiously,”what fake monsters?”

“Oh… you know, giant wolves, flesh hungry bats, acid spitting worms… that kind of stuff” you nod, looking to the sky. A half moon.

The girl lets out a small sigh of air, one of her hands moving to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You humans are certainly dim-witted. And no, there are none of those here, but there are other things that prevent certain life forms from entering this place”

You drag your eyes away from the star-lit sky as you look back at her “For instance…?”

The girl could only stare at you. Not a single muscle in her body comes close to even being tempted to share what she meant. Her eyes remain stoic, and her posture tall. The moment had somehow grown creepier as you remained awaiting a response from the stranger.

“Minji?” A new voice breaks the thickly grown atmosphere, soft and quiet, making it quite the opposite from who can now identify as Minji's rather assertive one.

“Haerin?” Minji responds quickly as the newer girl shuffles to the side a bit and, in turn, allows you both to gain sights on one another. She’s arguably smaller than Minji and had a more feline-like look to her. Though, what made her stand out was the tranquil look on her face. She didn’t look annoyed or irritated by your existence, but more so welcoming in an odd way. “What are you doing up?”

Haerin balances the lantern she's carrying upon the railing, allowing it to light up the space around you more, and in addition to that, it enchanted her face with warm hues “I couldn’t sleep” Haerin glances between you and Minji before continuing to fill the silence once again,"The human is awake?”

“Human-”

“Annoyingly so” Minji cuts you off, not even sparing you a glance. In retrospect to the girl’s actions, you clench your jaw “She’s giving me quite a headache”

“I offered to have her rest in my room” Haerin smiles, showing off her cat-like grin, her eyes creasing slightly as her pale cheeks raise. She was definitely a contrast to the taller girl in front of you.

“And I said no, it’s best to have the human stay with me”

“I have a name” You’re tempted to cross your arms, a huff having to expand within your throat to prevent it from leaving your lips. You don’t don’t want to come off as rude anyway, especially since these people clearly aren’t humans.

Despite your small surge of confidence, you almost cower into a ball of twisted joints when they both look at you, each with different inquiries and reasons. While Haerin looked at you, her head tilted slightly to her left and eyes reflecting the light of her lantern, Minji had glared at you with a small scowl, and what made it worse was that the lantern was placed at an angle that didn’t reach her face when stood like this, causing her to look menacing. “What?” Minji begins, “What is your name then?”

“Y/n” You smile slightly, ignoring the way Minji’s nose scrunches up at your answer as you focus your attention on the cat-like girl instead. Haerin looked somewhat relieved that she had a name to call you by now- calling you ‘human’ felt oddly disrespectful to her.

“I’m Haerin” she smiles lightly at you “And I doubt Minji would be willing to share her name with you herself”

“Strangely, I doubt so too” you mirror her smile with a small laugh.

Minji rolls her eyes for the second time this hour as she turns back to Haerin,”I’m the oldest, and therefore the most responsible over us. What if the human was to lash out? You know humans aren't to be trusted” of course she’d ignore your name…

“Yeah, but I don’t think y/n would do that. And even if she did, it’s five against one” You almost catch yourself gulping at the revelation of the unknown statistics. If there were two girls here, then surely there would be other people here too "what are you doing out here anyway?”

“The human was acting up,” Minji complains.

“Nuh-uh, that’s it. I am my own organism with my own life, my own rights, my own freedom and name. If you think you can restrict me from those, i’m leaving” You scoff, turning to leave in the direction of the ladder of which you had seen earlier. Although, a familiar grasp on your arm prevents you from moving much further than a step or two away. “What the heck?” You turn back around to see Minji, her arm outstretched as she grasps onto your sleeve once again.

“My hut. Now.”

You barely get a chance to respond before you're thrown back into Minji’s “hut” with a forceful budge. Stumbling forward, any opportunities of being able to say goodnight to Haerin were thrown out of the window, even more so when Minji closes the door behind her, her expression flat with furry.

“Look” Minji huffs,”I’ve told you that I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here, okay? But you being here, is down to the others”

“Who? What others?” You frown slightly, rubbing your reddening arm soothingly, her grip was a bit harsh…

“There are five of us here. You’ve already met me and Haerin. Fortunately for you, when we all met back up after doing our individual rounds, the others were already surrounding your unconscious body. They basically forced me to help you”

“And you said you wanted to take care of me?”

Minji's face morphs slightly, her eyes slightly widening and nostrils flaring,”want and being the most able is a huge difference. I did this for the sake of everyone else. Who knows how much trouble a human could cause? They could lose sleep because of you, or even go insane-”

“Do you really doubt me that much?” You almost spit out, feeling half offended with the repetitive diss against your kind. Humans aren’t all that bad. You wouldn’t say your family are bad… though, not much else can be said for everyone else you've met.

“I’m coming from a place of concern over my friends. They’re what matter to me, not some lost puppy like yourself”

You take your turn to roll your eyes as you lay back down on the stiff of her bed, letting out a heavy sigh as a light dosage of tension flees from your body. You felt the most at peace in that moment than you had done all day. “I hate it here…”

Minji’s ears had almost perked upon the small of your mumblings, her eyes drifting away from you as she moves around her room. “I hate having you here”

All you could do was listen as the girl shifted around her room, your eyes closed and hearing heightened by the noise she created. You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed before the light fall of fabric fell upon your skin. Your hands move to hold the item.. Or rather items. Half confused, you open your eyes and hold the things up. “What are these?” You ask, looking at the span of it all.

“Clothes”

You stop yourself from cursing her out at such a bland response as you finally get a grip on the top half of what you believe to be a sweater. You weren’t quite sure how to react in all honesty. First of all, they had clothes other than the strange white- almost cultist- outfits? And secondly, was Minji really handing you one of her sweatshirts? “Why?”

“The others would curse me out if I don’t take some level of care over you” Of course, this was for the others and not actually for your sake. “I’m going out to do something, stay here, and don’t snoop in my stuff. You’d be surprised at how well i can identify moved objects”

“What if I get bored?”

Minji opens the door once again, only turning to close it after her, a faint “Not my problem” being muffled by the blockage between you and her. Seconds later, you see her figure walk past a window.

You’ve been left alone. In a stranger's house. With nothing to do… so the question is, what now?

New page unlocked!

: Minji and Haerin!

Additional:

: next chapter is a reader voted chapter. This vote will begin on Monday and will last a week. Therefore meaning the next chapter won't be out for 2 weeks. Sorry for any inconvenience.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍] [NEW]

@wintersgff @hyein-hyeout

[y0imiy9]

What would your art taste like?

Inspired by @solisflowersblog because she asked what her art would taste like and I got to cooking >:)

Explanation under the cut!

Sweet explanation:

Solisflower's art would taste like a raspberry compote custard tart with a dark chocolate crumble on top (couldn't find an image of just a crumble topping so imagine the crumble on the right is on top of the tart on the left)

(raspberry tart, chocolate crumble)

Her choice in brush colour influenced the reason why i chose raspberries. It's both sweet and sour, and has a gritty texture from the seeds. Personally, i actually don't like raspberries (texture issues), but i can appreciate the flavour when combined with other fruits or ingredients. Dark chocolate pairs extremely well with raspberries. Its rich and smooth texture beautifully balances out the tart flavours of raspberries, giving the perfect blend of flavours. Dark chocolate also represents Mizu in her artworks. Mizu has rich lore that goes deep, we've barely scratched the surface about her origin story so it felt fitting to include chocolate to describe Mizu.

A custard based tart perfectly describes Solisflower's art with the way she intentionally blocks out certain areas of her pieces with minimal details and colour. The smooth and silky texture of custard best represents this. Though you're not drawn to the custard due to it's simplicity, it holds a lot of weight as it helps deliver the other striking ingredients. This is best shown in the Akemi artwork where she intentionally uses minimal details on the hair and clothes to better direct your attention to her face and hands.

The dark chocolate crumble i mentioned best describes the crosshatching shading style she uses in majority of her art. The sketchy look adds a lot of texture and variation while also making her pieces look visually interesting and crumchy (been snacking on crackers lately and i imagine eating victorian era mizu, as seen above). I really enjoy her use of insane details and basic blocking of shapes to best enhance the subject (mizu) in her pieces.

In conclusion, Solisflower's artworks has a perfect balance of striking and rich flavours, the sourness of raspberries and richness of dark chocolate. The added texture of silky custard and gritty dark chocolate crumble greatly enhances her pieces, with the consistent use of shading and blocking that gives an interesting variation in all her artworks.

Savoury explanation:

On the other hand, her art would taste like a nut (pecan, walnut or pistachios) and herb panko crusted salmon with a creamy lemon sauce. It took me a while to think about what kind of protein best fit Mizu since she's the main subject matter in almost all of Solisflower's artwork. Her art doesn't give off beef vibes, and chicken didn't feel right either. Her art is more delicate, though you could argue that with her style of shading it gives poultry energy, a quail maybe, but i personally think fish best describes the delicate nature of each brushstroke that is laid onto the canvas.

(pecan panko crusted salmon, panko crusted salmon)

Her use of crosshatching for shading greatly reminded me of the flaky layers of fish. The layers and delicate nature of fish represents each singular brushstroke that makes up majority of her pieces which adds lots of texture and variation in her art. The addition of a panko crust is because of the type of brush she uses which adds a lot of grain and a sketchy, almost rustic look. Fish dishes aren't complete without a sauce and a creamy lemon sauce best describes the solid areas of her pieces. It gives the perfect balance and enhances her art in a way that uplifts the important details of her artworks.

I chose simple flavours to represent Solisflower's artwork. This is because i'm more drawn to her use of texture and minimal colour that she uses in her pieces. Herb and lemon flavour combinations are a good pair that best describes her art as it enhances the flavour of fish (MIzu). In the example of the art above, her subtle use of blue adds a small but striking variation in her piece but it doesn't draw away from the subject itself, but enhances it.

In conclusion, Solisflower's art has the perfect balance of texture that i love so much. I'm such a sucker for sketchy, clean lineart art styles because the variation of line thickness and the grain of the brushes used tickles the right part of my brain. I'd eat her art up like i've been starved for several days. If her art were a restaurant i'd give her 3 Michelin stars <3.

If any artist would like me to compare their art to food, please let me know! I need to do something with my culinary degree once i get it lmfao.

[flaretheidiot]

Y’know what? Screw it, I’mma finally post art here.

Here’s a line up of all my RTC + Legoland kid designs!!

I love them all dearly. Tall Penny/Jane, my beloved.

Headcanons under the cut!

Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg

-She/her

-Demisexual Omniromantic (female preference)

-Undiagnosed Autism + ADHD

-Constantly stims (her lil dances)

-Picks at skin or chews on nails when anxious

-Sleeps over at Constance’s so often that she has her own toothbrush there

-Learned social cues from reality TV

-Love-hate besties with Noel

-Sibling dynamic with Mischa

-Her parents legitimately suck I’m sorry

-Started eating lunch in the choir room with Constance and Ricky after almost biting Tammy in the cafeteria close to the events of Legoland

-No filter, says everything she thinks without realising if it might be rude

-(If all brought back) Is genuinely trying to be a better person, with the choirs’ help

-Love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

-Infodumps

Noel Gruber

-He/him

-Gay (canon)

-Autistic

-New Wave Cinema is his special interest

-Food problems (texture, taste, ect) make him rather picky

-Despises the smell of taco meat, but Taco Bell was the only place that hired him

-High metabolism

-Dad left Uranium after divorcing his mom when he was 5

-HARD pining for Mischa

-Writes nihilistic love poems in his free time (shows them to Mischa, Ezra and very occasionally Constance)

-Great at reading and using body language, but can exaggerate his facial expressions

-Has one very pampered ragdoll cat named Lola, whom Penny has practically fallen in love with

-Had a gut feeling/desire for Talia to be a catfish, and was low-key terrified for his life when he actually met her

-Started eating in the choir room soon after Ocean and Constance when a bully shoved his face into a plate of gooey mashed potatoes and triggered a meltdown

-Love language is quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch

-Loves physical pressure, owns a weighted blanket (sometimes uses Mischa tho)

Mischa Bachinski

-He/him (Trans man)

-Bisexual

-Dyscalculia

-Physically strongest of the kids (Jane/Penny is, surprisingly, a close second)

-Struggles with keeping his weight consistent

-His foster parents are pretty rich since their family owned the mines before they shut down, but they don’t share the wealth with him

-Will wear his binder for way too long if left unchecked

-Stealth, only Constance knew he was trans pre-accident

-Can get VERY dysphoric on his period

-Never brushes his hair

-Security guard at the mall’s movie theatre

-Regular at Blackwood Café

-The only choir member with his own car, carpools with Noel to the mall

-Is a lovesick puppy for Talia, but developing a thing for Noel (my man has two hands)

-He and Talia are a T4T couple

-Began eating in the choir room as soon as he found out that the others were

-Unspoken kinship with Ricky pre-accident, and low-key besties with Constance

-Does his own filming/editing for his YT music videos, though Talia sometimes helps polish things up

-(If they’re all brought back) he and the rest of the choir make music videos for all of their songs and post them to his YT channel, and they get pretty popular though a lot of people hate on Ocean for her song and Penny had to keep her face hidden because of her reputation

-Love language is words of affirmation and gift giving

Constance Eleanor Blackwood

-She/they (Trans Demigirl)

-Pansexual

-Autistic

-Gets very caught up in what others think of her

-Almost photographic memory

-Is the mom friend

-Has had to physically hold Ocean back from clawing Tammy’s hair out multiple times

-Transitioned at so young that almost everyone forgets that she’s trans, even Ocean or her own parents (the carney was okay with it, to her relief, but still a dick)

-The best baker of the kids, sometimes works as a waitress at the Blackwood Café in her free time

-They and her family live in an apartment above the café

-Has three younger brothers, two being twins at 6, and her baby brother being 2

-Sometimes babies Ezra out of habit

-Allowed to drive their parents’ minivan

-Played soccer as a kid, but quit

-Love language is gift giving and acts of service

-Penguin pebbles

Ricky Potts

-He/she/they (Transmasc Genderfluid)

-Bisexual

-ADHD + Autism

-Uses a Text-To-Speech app on his phone to communicate

-Mental echolalia

-Still needs crutches in the afterlife, but can move around more without getting worn out and has more strength to lift themself up

-He and Jane/Penny are platonic soulmates

-Read Warrior Cats as a kid

-Has seen CATS the Musical

-Savannah was her deadname, but he still liked it as a name and decided to save it for a character

-Has made characters based on all the other kids, usually with permission with the exception of Tammy, who he made into a villain

-Bonds with Ezra over their love for wrestling and shared creativity, occasionally joins in with his puppet shows

-Was the first to start eating in the choir room since she kept getting unintentionally pushed around in the cafeteria

-Love language is quality time and acts of service

-Infodumps and parallel plays

Jane Doe

-She/they/it/doll (Nonbinary)

-Lesbian

-Bipolar Disorder + Autism

-Struggles with tone, body language and forming connections

-Once asked if she could call Karnak “Dad” (he didn’t respond)

-Very similar to Penny, but more doll like in mannerisms

-Has brief memory sparks of important things in her life, but can’t recall details (remembered that they had a brother in TBOJD, its love for animals during her catchphrase, ect)

-Love language is physical touch, quality time and acts of service

-Penguin pebbles and parallel plays

Penny Lamb

-She/they/it (Nonbinary)

-Lesbian (in denial, Johnny was comphet x100)

-Bipolar Disorder (canon) + Autistic

-Also struggles with tone, body language and connections

-Easily overwhelmed by loud noises and flashing lights

-Semi-verbal, Ricky taught her how to use TTS on them and Ezra’s shared cellphone

-Writes 7UP what-ifs with Tammy

-(If all brought back) stole Virgil from the fair and keeps him in a nice big cage in their dorm after thoroughly researching rat care

-Ezra bought the doll (Dolly) for her with leftover drug money after they finished community service and it became a comfort item

-Likes to count Ocean, Ricky, Constance and/or Tammy’s freckles

-Was the first to die in the accident, having stood up in a panic while the rollercoaster was flying through the air because Dolly flew out of their hands and getting her head caught on some overhead track

-Had a HUGE growth spurt during puberty, was 6’0 during the events of Legoland

-(If all brought back) the others invited her to eat in the choir room with them after seeing it getting bullied on her way to the cafeteria

-Love language is physical touch, quality time and acts of service

-Penguin pebbles, parallel plays and infodumps

Ezra Lamb

-He/they (Nonbinary)

-Aroace

-ADHD (canon)

-Late puberty

-St. Cassian sent the Lamb siblings two girl uniforms for whatever reason, and they used Ezra’s to custom make what he wears now

-Noel, Mischa and Ricky are like older brothers to him

-Verbal echolalia

-If Penny’s there, they are never far away

-Their monkey puppet is his comfort item

-Jumpscares

-No personal space

-Forced to hang out with Tammy due to her being Penny’s “best friend” and plays some twisted-ass pranks on her (he also briefly stole her car once, but didn’t get very far)

-Has given Ocean death threats

-Gets piggybacks from Penny all the time

-(If all brought back) eats with Penny and the others in the choir room, no one could stop him even if they tried

-Annoying little shit/aff

-Love language is acts of service and gift giving

Tammy Edwards

-She/her

-Lesbian (very much in denial, a lot of Catholic Guilt™️)

-Undiagnosed Autism, but is unaware (Penny and Constance have their suspicions)

-Wears braces

-Deeply in love with Penny, but even deeper in comphet

-Lowkey scared of Ezra, but tolerates him because they’re her best friend’s little brother

-Academic rivals with Ocean, will most likely throw hands if left in a room together for too long

-Cringe/aff

-Father is a pastor, mother is absent

-Was gifted her dad’s old convertible for her sixteenth birthday, but she doesn’t know how to drive yet (she has failed her driver’s test many-a-times)

-Her dad is close with Mischa’s foster parents, but she generally tries to avoid Mischa

-Doesn’t have cable TV, watched low-quality niche religious cartoons growing up

-Hates velcro with all of her being

-Stims with her hands

-Was babysitting Ezra at the fair while Penny hung with the choir, and witnessed the accident

-(If all brought back) Penny invited her to eat in the choir room with her and the others, and she accepted, much to Ocean’s dismay (they glared at each other the entire time, and the only reason they didn’t lunge at one another is because Penny was there)

-Love language is gift giving, quality time and words of affirmation

-Penguin pebbles

[sunburstkisser]

How do you make your mlp screenshot edits? They always look so good!

Hi Scribbly :3

This is gonna be really long so I'm putting it under a readmore 😭😭 Apologies in advanced, I hope it doesn't sound convoluted skhjdg

I use Procreate and my own brushes, but you can use whatever program and brushes you feel fit :3 I used to use Ibis Paint for my screenshot edits before I concocted my perfect edit brushes on Procreate khdjg

SO! I start by picking a screenshot that I like that has two ponies in the shot. One of which is my FO of choice, and a mare-shaped pony beside him (I like using a mare-shape for my sonas as opposed to a stallion shape 😭 Anyone can pick whatever body shape they'd like, though, you can always take pony shapes that you like out of other screenshots and edit them to your liking to trace over, too! @/cosmiccherri has a uniquely shaped ponysona so they use screenshots taken from other episodes for theirs and they always look so good!!)

If I can, I find a couple more screenshots that show more background! So I can cut the background out and paste it to cover the other pony. It's okay if it doesn't completely cover, though, I go over it with brush lines and additional textures so it's as seamless as I can get it. I'm kind of a stickler for having my edits and art be perfect, so I always look for ways to use brushes to my advantage especially with trickier backgrounds.

Personally I erase as much of the other pony as I can, so I can reuse the piece bc I know I never stick with one ponysona for longer than a month 😭 /lh It's just handy for me if I ever wanna see each ponysona I go through with my FOs :3

After I get the pony erased as much as I can, I lower the opacity on the background layer so the previous pony is showing a little bit so I can trace over their body, sketch in my mane + tail style, and tweak his expression to one that I like. I also make my ponysona chubbier than the standard mare shape bc I'm not a Skinny Minnie 😭 Once I've got my sketch out, I turn the opacity back up on my background layer and lower the opacity on my sketch layer. I trace a line on the FO pony to check my line thickness, edit it to my liking, and then start lining my sketch with black. You can use whatever color you'd like, I just use black bc it's the easiest for me to see my lines- I like to separate parts on different layers, especially the eyes and hair. MLP eyes are always lined in black! Once the pony is lined, I go through and start erasing lines that end in open spaces, like the chin, shoulders and flank, ear, mouth, etc. so they end in tapers. I also erase a little bit on overlapping lines in the mane and tail, I think it makes them look sharper and more streamlined :3

Once my lineart is completely finished, I color in the pony however I'd like. MLP:FIM always has at least one leg shaded, if not two, and they're always the legs furthest from the viewer. That's one of my favorite parts to shade, and I always use a grey-ish purple

Around this area, but you can use whatever you feel is good :3! I turn the shading layer into a multiply layer, and the opacity is also turned down to 25%

After coloring in my ponysona, I color in the lineart! MLP's colored lineart is one of my favorite things in the show, and I LOVE picking the colors to use. They're always slightly darker than your pony's coat colors, and manes tend to use one or two colors for lineart despite some manes having lots of colors. Rainbow Dash's mane even uses the blue in her colors as the lineart color! It's super interesting tbh, I love the colored lineart- Don't forget to shade the lining on the shaded parts, too! Same grey-purple shading color you used on the legs, turned down to 25% on a multiply layer

That should be everything! I like to make a copy of the original screenshot, merge the background layer onto the copy, copy that so I can merge my ponysona onto it, and at the very end there should be three images left, as well as the sketch layer :3 You don't have to copy everything I do to a T, that's all just my process of editing screenshots 😭

[grimalkinmessor]

Near from Death Note for the character headcanon ask game

I love Near he's my baby ^.^

Fluffy-

As an adult his favorite toys are actually rubix cubes; not because they're hard for him to do, but because he can switch around the colors and push them together to make pictures. It's like forming his own, more complicated puzzles, and he often tries to build them so they have different pictures on each side. Roger hates it because he'll walk in and there's just a huge WALL of rubix cubes in the middle of the room and he can't risk knocking them over on pain of death disappointment.

He learned how to braid hair from Mello when they were young, and it becomes a bit of a stim as his hair gets longer. It stays almost perpetually tangled and he has to get someone to help him brush it after a bath. He gets a bag of ribbons once and spends the rest of the day making a whole rainbow of braids in his hair.

Mello used to give him pieces of his chocolate, but because Mello freezes his chocolate bars and Near has sensory issues, he usually just likes to let the square sit in his mouth and melt instead of eating it normally. You can give him a square of chocolate and come back an hour later and he'll still be holding it in his mouth.

Near is a bit like a cat in that he likes to hide in invisible spaces. He'll disappear for several hours and all of his agents go nuts trying to find him, thinking his been kidnapped, only to find him playing solitaire on top of the fridge, and the only reason they saw him is because he scared the hell out of Giovanni by asking him to grab a card that he'd dropped. The people at Wammy's quickly got used to it—it takes his agents far longer lmao.

While Near hates actually being outside, he really enjoys laying out in the sun. He will move his toys across the floor to follow the patches of sunlight throughout the day. There was a sun room at Wammy's, and if he wasn't curled up in one of the library window seats, he was down there sprawled out on one of the couches. In the winter he builds himself a blanket nest near one of the radiators and refuses to move. You will have forcibly pry him away from his chosen spot unless you give him a very good reason to vacate it.

Angsty-

Near's mother gave him up voluntarily. He was the product of an abusive relationship and she just couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she left him in a bundle on the doorstep of an orphanage with his birth certificate and never looked back. Near looked her up once as an adult out of curiosity—she's living happily with her wife somewhere down in France. Near leaves her alone.

He only knows four (4) languages fluently—even though he picks them up very quickly—and it's through conscious choice. Given that he already struggles with verbal nuances in his home tongue, he only learns new languages when he has to. He much prefers to communicate either through text or sign language because he's gotten in trouble a few too many times with his 'monotonous' tone of voice.

Near never actually gave a shit about becoming the next L. He didn't care about upholding his legacy or carrying out L's justice—he just was so much like L in his mannerisms that Wammy's pushed him far harder towards that path than the others. He's been told he should be a detective for so long that he just accepted that he would be one instead of actually examining what he wanted to do with his life. Detective work is fun to an extent, but Near doesn't really enjoy it. At least, not without something to make it interesting.

Near fucking hates food. He hates it. The act of eating makes him queasy a lot of the time simply because he dislikes the texture of a lot of foods in his mouth. It is a struggle to get him to eat literally anything. The human function of having a digestive tract and needing to consume food annoys him deeply. What he can handle varies from day to day too, so Roger can't easily work around his dietary restrictions like Watari did for L. Some days he can eat two whole meals with minimal struggle, and other days it's a fight to get him to eat literally anything.

Despite telling Mello that he gave him the only remaining photo of him, that was a lie. Near kept a copy of it in a lockbox back in America in one of his safe houses, and he went back for it after the Kira case was over. He keeps it in his shirt, close to his heart, and he keeps meaning to make a necklace out of it but always bails before he has to hand over the picture. Every year on Mello's birthday, he'll go to the spot he died and curl up against his gravestone and whisper little apologies for lying to him about it. Most years he falls asleep out there and Giovanni has to come fetch him in the morning.

[vampemoqueen]

Emily Work Progress!

Because I feel proud of this particular piece, I felt like writing a play by play of how I did my drafts. I hope it's of interest to anyone who's ever been curious about my work progress.

Top Left: Starting lines. I'm not very good at drawing, nor do I like spending time cleaning lines. Shout out to those who do amazing line art because I struggle. I followed a reference pretty closely for the body and dress while taking my own liberties with the face and hair. Top Right: Started blocking out the skin and hair. I start with one base shade and then fill in light and dark shades with the line layer on top. I eyeball and pick each of my colors instead of picking from an existing color palette, which is a bad move I keep making. 😅 The skin is all one layer that I paint over and same with the hair. I did the background/foreground in about two paint strokes with a textured brush. Bottom Left: Rendered out the face, bust, and hair more. I was jumping between references to decide on what lighting to use and ended up with making it up as I went. I struggle with hair since I kinda see it as micro shading, but I think I'm learning more each time I try. It was at this point where I realized the perspective of her head was off given the angle of her chest. Ngl, I really liked how I did her boobs, so I wasn't about to give them up lol. Bottom Right: I used the liquidfy tool and selection tools with click and drag to get the proportions more in line with the bust. I then created a new layer for the dress and rendered it out with paint strokes and blending brushes. I finished it off by adding adjustment layers for hue to get rid of the green tint I always seem to pick my colors in, and one to bump up contrast. And voila! We have Emily in all her sad Ventrue glory!

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Just A Baby

Prev.

“Oh my gods, she’s so cuuuute!”

“Look at those little pointy ears. So this is Visom’s kid?”

“Yeah, her mom’s that one human at Fit For King’s that’s super tall and buff. Explains why he never had the time for you, Tiath, haha!”

“Oh sure, make height jokes about the gnome, that’s super clever. What’s her name?”

“Saballa. Look at all those dark curls, she looks just like her momma!”

“I could just eat her up!”

A gaggle of female adventurers had all surrounded the cradle that had currently been placed in the corner of the adventurer’s guild, cooing and aww’ing and just being so stupid that Odra was about two minutes away from barfing.

“It’s just a half elf, what’s the big deal?” She mumbled to herself- not quietly enough, since Tiath spun around to give the goblin a dirty look.

“I know your people eat them, but most people love babies,” Tiath explained, setting her hands on her hips.

Odra wrinkled her nose and shuddered. “Shows what you know, Tiath- babies taste too fishy. Bitchy gnomes with pink hair though,” Odra leaned in and licked her lips, “those sound real delicious about now.”

Vunno, the human woman with leaf shaped beads in her locs, had to grab Tiath to prevent a full out rogue brawl in the guild. “Tiath, she’s trying to wind you up, knock it off,” she said.

“Well, it’s working!” Tiath snapped, shaking her fist at Odra. “Wanna take this outside?”

Odra chuckled and leaned back in her seat. “I would, but I have so much to do today- count my gold, sweep my room, clean crud out from under my fingernails… really, my schedule’s full. No time to brawl with lil pinkie.” She tutted her tongue. “What a shame. I could use a quick work out.”

Tiath lunged for Odra again, but Vunno scooped the gnome up and tucked her under her arm to stop her from going anywhere. “Odra, I know Tiath starts it, but you really don’t have to continue it,” she said.

“Awwww, but it’s fun!”

Vunno sighed before she looked at the other adventurers. “Well, looks like Saballa’s asleep. Let’s go see what jobs are on the board.” She looked back at Odra. “Let the baby sleep, Odra. If I hear crying…”

“I have literally so many other things I’d rather do than be anywhere near that thing,” Odra scoffed, rolling her eyes and waving the ladies away. “Go, I’m waiting for Garl to sleep off his hangover before we look for jobs. Least he’ll be relieved that the kid’s clearly not his.”

Finally, the ladies left. Good riddance. Odra sipped at her breakfast beer and focused on a hole in the wall across from her. Yup. Interesting wall hole. Nothing else in this bar could be anywhere near interesting. Nothing at all. Especially not the drooling, snotty, smelly baby.

Odra gritted her teeth before she looked around to be sure that those adventurers weren’t lurking around. They did say they were going to check out the job listings at the board… which was all the way on the other side of the tavern. Nowhere near the baby.

She hopped off the chair and slunk over to the cradle, not even looking at it until she was close enough to peer through its bars.

Huh.

This close, Odra could see the subtle point to the infant’s ears, mostly hidden by the mass of dark curly hair on her head. Human babies didn’t usually have this much hair, did they? Maybe elven babies did, Odra had never really seen any elf babies, so she didn’t know if they had more hair.

Odra didn’t even realize she was reaching forward to touch the baby’s hair until her fingertips brushed the curls. Her hand jerked back like she’d stuck her hand on the hot end of a torch.

So… soft.

Luckily, the baby didn’t stir, so after making sure she was still alone Odra reached into the crib again to stroke those round cheeks. All smooth. Definitely not like goblin children- they got their bumps and leathery skin texture within a day or so. Little human babies though. Soft. Weak. Much easier to kill than a goblin baby. Basically useless for years.

But they didn’t have to be useful yet, Odra supposed. Human babies were born in cozy homes, with crackling fireplaces and gentle mothers, rocking them in their cradles. They had the time to be soft. Little.

… Cute. Very, very cute.

Odra smiled softly as she gently rocked the crib back and forth, humming something she remembered one of the parent goblins singing as he stopped by to make sure there was a healthy amount of bugs in the pen. Odra couldn’t remember the words, but she could remember the sound. The baby didn’t seem to mind at least. In fact, she even seemed happy. How long did it take these babies to smile consciously?

“Odra?”

Odra yelped and dove away from the crib to hide under the table. “I was just looking! Get off my cock!” she yelped. She peered out to see a woman with fancy make up and three gold rings on her middle finger looking down at her. Ah, that was definitely one of the employees of Fit For Kings, and since she had familiar thick dark curls on her head…

“You’re Odra, right?” The woman laughed quietly as she knelt down to get a better look at the hiding goblin. “Odra Manyboots? Garl’s talked about you a few times. And I don’t think there’s many other goblins employed by this guild.”

“There’s a few hobgoblins but they’re all dicks,” Odra grumbled as she scooted out from her hiding place. “You’re… I don’t know who you are. Garl doesn’t tell me who he bones.”

“I figured.” The woman ruffled Odra’s ears. “I’m Dalda. I’m Saballa’s mother.”

Right. Of course. Odra stared at her feet. “Right, I guessed, she looks like you. Listen, Visom’s currently out on a job, Garl’s hungover, I think your babysitters are busy getting work that pays, whadya want?”

Dalda cocked her head to the side before her gaze softened. “They didn’t want you close to lil’ Balla, did they?” she guessed.

Odra chewed on the inside of her cheek. “They didn’t, but that doesn’t matter, I didn’t want to be close to her anyway,” she grumbled.

“… Would you like to hold her?”

Odra gaped and sputtered as Dalda went to the cradle and gently scooped the sleeping Saballa up. “Hold on- who says I want to hold her!?”

“Sit down, come on, just for a few minutes. If she starts to cry, I’ll take her, don’t worry.”

Odra shook her head as she clambered up on the chair. “This isn’t a good idea. I’m just saying, I’m a goblin, Garl hasn’t made me bathe in like a month so there’s probably like plague all over me along with a thousand other diseases, when she opens her eyes she’s gonna scream, I’m- why are you still handing me a baby!?”

Odra shut her eyes as the baby was rested in her arms. Oh fuck oh fuck this wasn’t going to go well this was so going to blow up in her face-

“There! That’s not so bad, is it? Oh, this is so cute. If I could paint a portrait of you two, I would.”

Odra slowly reopened her eyes and gasped quietly.

She wasn’t sure how, but Saballa got even cuter when she was out of the crib and now in her arms. She was much bigger than a goblin infant, that was for sure. Odra carefully bounced her up and down in her arms, completely speechless as she stared down at this helpless little thing. “Am… am I doing it right?” Odra asked.

“You’re doing just fine.” Dalda pulled up a chair from the other side of the table and looked at Odra with her baby with a lot of… well, it was a nice look in her eyes, even if Odra couldn’t put words to it. “You’re even supporting her neck right. Do you have children?”

Odra snorted. “Oh fuuuck no, that requires getting it on with a guy and… ew.” She shook her head at the thought. “I’d barf. But um, when… when I was with the other Manyboots, I’d make sure to check in on the babies. They’re not nearly as stupid as your babies are, a goblin babe’s ready to be placed with the others in the pen after a few hours. They still need watching though, make sure they get enough to eat.”

Dalda laughed. “I’ve never really thought of how goblin children grow. I bet you were a natural when it came to taking care of the babies, huh?”

Suddenly Odra’s chest felt tight and a lump formed in her throat. “… Eh, I sucked pretty bad at it, honestly,” she said with a nervous laugh. She swallowed and offered Saballa back to her mother. “You better take Balla back, my arm’s cramping like a bitch and I’ll drop her.”

Dalda did take the baby back. “Hello, baby… oh, you’re awake! How long have you been awake, sweet baby?” She pressed a kiss to Saballa’s head before turning the baby towards Odra. “Look, Balla, it’s your Auntie Odra!”

If goblins could visibly blush, Odra would be crimson. Even now her face was burning hot as that baby looked stupidly at her. No thoughts in that brain at all. Clearly.

Then Saballa smiled and waved one of her hands around. Without even thinking about it Odra offered her finger and the half elf child grabbed onto it. Saballa cooed and gripped on as tightly as she could. Much to Odra’s surprise the little one was stronger than she would’ve guessed.

Odra slowly took her finger back and turned away, pushing away that painful feeling inside. “Yeah, um, better wash her hand before she sticks it in her mouth. Definite poison damage. I gotta go make sure Garl’s not choking on his own vomit,” she grumbled as she hurried away.

“See you later, Odra! Say bye bye, Saballa! Bye bye!”

Odra turned to see that Dalda was actually waving lil Saballa’s hand, who was still smiling. Odra jumped the stairs two at a time, but she was smiling the whole way up.

Next

[nothinghereisworking]

Alright I hadn’t actually intended to post this yet but watching @lesbianhaleth talking about it with the Anons has me thinking to just go ahead: 

It’s not even titled yet.

Rated: T Pairing: Finduilas/Nellas (who both deserve better!) Wordcount: 1,200 ______________________________________________________________

Doriath felt like a world apart.  Its forests - wild but without threat of danger - enticed her out of the impressive caverns to slip through the mottled shadows, hands caressing over the texture of bark and moss.  She followed the birdsongs, followed the cricket calls, and the croak of little frogs in their ponds.  Her footfalls, long divested of shoes, were silent and left no mark of her passing upon the rich soils.

A fallen tree had her crouched down, tracing the curve of the mushrooms and lichen growing over it.  Every breath carried the gentle scent of flowers amidst decomposing leaves, of thick resins and rich loams, life from death, the cycles of Arda so plainly evident.

In the distance she could just hear the gentle rushing of Esgalduin where it passed close to Menegroth, but her feet carried her rather deeper into the forests.  She wanted to see, wanted to hear the forest, and so she remained silent, enraptured by every new sight and sound.  It was all so different from Tol Sirion.

Before long she had emerged into a small meadow awash in wild flowers and little insects that flitted here and buzzed there.  In the midst was a lazy pool, wide enough to be almost still though fed by a small stream.  She ran toward it, eager to wade into the waters and explore the reedy banks for ever more interesting sights.

Her intent was brought to a sudden halt when she spied another sitting by the waterside, hidden by the grass until she had come close enough.  The other turned and smiled, dark freckled cheeks glowing with joy, a slim face framed by rich brown locks crowned with wildflowers.

“Forgive my intrusion,” Finduilas said, giving a quick curtsy.

“It is no intrusion,” the other replied, standing up to brush stray leaves and petals from her skirt.  “I would begrudge none to share the beauty of this place with me.  And it would not be mine to hoard, in any case.”

Finduilas smiled and stepped closer.  “My name is Finduilas.  I am a guest of your King, for I have accompanied my father’s uncle, Finrod.”

The other’s face brightened further at that.  “Galadriel’s brother!  I should have guessed it even if you had not said so, for the relation is plain.”

Finduilas touched her hair and blushed slightly.  “We do share some traits,” she agreed.

“Come, Finduilas, and join me a while, if you will.  My name is Nellas, and I would be happy for the company.”

Finduilas crossed the short distance left between them and joined Nellas in the midst of a patch of wild flowers, settling in on the soft spring grasses.

“I often come here,” Nellas said.  “The birds lure me with their songs, and the flowers with their sweet fragrance, and the refreshing waters of the pool.”

“It is beautiful,” Finduilas agreed, finding that she could follow Nellas’s speech despite the differences from her own.  Her mother sometimes used the older speech in songs or reciting tales from deep in her memory.  “I was drawn here myself; so different from the lands around my home.”

They continued on thus, speaking softly of their homes and their lives, of families and memories.  Nellas wove a circlet of flowers to match her own, and placed it upon Finduilas’s head.

As the morning gave way to noon, the sun overhead was become a warmth that they could not evade.  Nellas took Finduilas’s hand and stood.  

“When Anor has chased away all the clouds, the only relief must be the woods or the water.”  

Without waiting for any kind of response, Nellas pulled her dress over her head and let it fall to the grass, giggling as she danced down to the shore and slipped into the pond.  Surprised by her boldness, Finduilas could not help but follow, discarding her own gown and joining Nellas in the sun-warmed pool.

It was shallow enough to stand at any point, but deep enough to swim or float unhindered.  Little bugs buzzed across the surface, and birds perched upon the tall reeds sang from the banks.  But Finduilas found her attention captured by the slim, sparkling body of her companion, as if draped in diamonds.  Each drop of water was a jewel upon her brown skin, and Finduilas found herself quite enamored.

She pulled her eyes away, skimming her palms over the surface with a soft hum to distract herself from the thoughts that had arisen in her mind.  “My father often told me stories of swimming in the bay,” she said.  “Far across the sea, in Elbardh*.”

“Are you not from there also?” Nellas asked.

“I was born here,” Finduilas said, turning back with a smile.  “My mother is from Mithrim, they met soon after my father arrived.”

A broad smile spread on Nellas’s face, lighting up her eyes like stars.  “That explains why you speak so differently from your great-aunt,” she said.

“Do I?” Finduilas said, then slowly nodded.  “Yes I suppose I do. I had not noticed before.”  To Finduilas, everyone around her spoke just a little differently from one another, so much so that it seemed the most natural thing for each to have their own way.

As they spoke, they carefully made their way back to where they had been sitting before, and spread themselves out on the grass to let the sun dry them, unashamed to lay bare beside one another.

“Of course, she speaks after the manner of Doriath now,” Nellas mused softly.  “And rarely strays beyond Menegroth, so I still know little of her.  But at times she accompanies Melian and then we speak.”

“I see her rarely myself,” Finduilas admitted.  “Though she did stay at Nargothrond for a time after its completion, I was still young.  And much of my life has been at Minas Tirith.”

Nellas had come up on her side, quite close to where Finduilas lay, though she had not quite noticed until Nellas twisted a bit of her golden hair around her finger.  “I have not met many from your family, but you all seem so kind.”

Their gazes met, and Finduilas felt the growing warmth of her chest as she looked into the other’s eyes.  “Is kindness not common here?”

“Oh, it is common enough,” Nellas admitted.  “Perhaps that is the wrong word; but your family seems different to me.  I am glad that your father came and met your mother, for elsewise you would not be here now.”

Finduilas found she very much no longer wished to speak of her family, only to know the better the shining beauty before her.

“I am glad I am here, also,” she whispered, tracing Nellas’s hair behind her ear, fingers lingering down her cheek.

The forest and meadow, which Finduilas had been so infatuated with that morning, was now entirely forgotten.  The songs of the birds faded away, the flit of the butterfly did not draw her attention.  As Nellas leaned in gently and their lips brushed together, Finduilas felt her every sense entirely consumed.

As they lay, bodies pressed together and wrapped in each other’s arms, Finduilas felt so fortunate to have been invited on this visit.

----

*My simple attempt to render Eldamar into Sindarin.

[e-wills-afterhours]

Affairs Of the Heart, Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

---------

"So, you told him?" Stefnir asked, studying Astrid over folded hands. 

She frowned at him, a bite of porridge hovering at her lips. As she straightened up, she returned the spoon to her bowl with a clatter. 

"Yes, I told him." She kept her eyes on her future husband, finding it only slightly less painful that shifting her gaze to the tall, slim figure a couple of tables away. "Why does he matter to you, specifically?" 

Stefnir rubbed his chin, casting a conspicuous glance over her shoulder in Hiccup's direction. Astrid's skin prickled to think Hiccup could be staring back at them, green eyes roaming over her with the same torturous gentleness of warm blacksmith's hands: a caress that had been haunting her from the moment she had left the Dragon Island. She had not slept very well, tossing and turning and wrestling with the urge to leave the comfort of her bed for his. 

She wrestled with titillating memories, only hours old: touch, and leather, and tongue. As Stefnir glanced back at her, she stuffed her spoon in her mouth to interrupt the daydream that might hang on her face. 

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Stefnir said. 

Astrid gaped at him, spoon wobbling between her lips. Her appetite evaporated. She returned her spoon to her bowl and pushed both away. Her eyes narrowed. "How does he look at me?" 

"Like you owe him something." 

She scoffed. "I don't owe him anything." 

"That's right, you don't." Stefnir reached across the table for her, his fingertips brushing over her knuckles. She curled her hand into a tight fist and withdrew it. He recoiled. "Astrid, what's—?" 

"I have to meet my mother," she blurted out, springing to her feet. "Wedding stuff," she added in the same breath. 

Stefnir leaned back, considering her with a small nod. His expression was searching in a way that made her tense, so she flashed him a loving smile that was as empty as her stomach. 

She laid her hands against the table top, bending far over to place a kiss on his lips, trying to inject some warmth into it in spite of her trembling fingers and the nauseous roll of her stomach. His mouth was the only one she had known for two years, memorizing its taste, its texture, and its width; but there was an internal protestation: a shriek of wrongness to the kiss that she could not ignore. 

"Mmn," Stefnir hummed, smirking as she pulled back. 

Astrid tried to reciprocate; she was confident she only looked pained. She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears and said, "I'll meet up with you later." 

He appeared satisfied, and she made a quick escape, striding toward the doors as fast as she could without appearing to flee. She was not a routine liar, so she decided to head for home to maintain a sliver of honesty. Still, listening to her mother fuss over wedding details was not a particularly interesting use of her time; but it was less of a hassle than later feeding Stefnir another excuse why she never did spend the afternoon doing as she said she would. 

She pried open one of the ornate doors, glancing back over her shoulder, not the least bit surprised to see Stefnir watching her leave. His gaze always followed her, and it felt like a short tether some days. She had come to suspect his scrutiny; but a warm, vibrant green flashed in her direction from two tables over. The moment was over in an instant. Hiccup was engaged in deep conversation with Fishlegs, laughing like she had not seen him do for quite some time. But she was sure those eyes had rested on her, for even a fraction of a second. 

Her heart stumbled for a beat and she whipped around, driving the wedge between the sagacious and reckless halves of herself. Those two warring bits of conscience were melding dangerously in the Great Hall, filling her head with terrible thoughts of sliding into Hiccup's lap while her Stefnir watched with burning jealousy. Her hands roaming over Hiccup's clothes, stroking the lissome muscle underneath, would undoubtedly incite Stefnir to violence. No absolution could be found while flaunting infidelity, nor would it free her from her arranged marriage. If anything, Stefnir would only tighten his grip, lash out at Hiccup; and it would be disastrous for everyone. 

She hurried down the stone steps, trying to bury everything else for a time. The charade became that much harder. She needed to focus on acting thrilled at the prospect of marriage; of being the giddy bride she was expected to be. She would tell her mother they should officially announce the engagement to the village, then start planning the whole thing like the anticipation had her fit to burst. 

That would not be completely false; she was fit to burst—with misery. 

The dreary morning clouds reflected her mood with their stark grey shades heavy like her mind. She sighed up at them, wishing she could pour out her soul like the impending rainstorm. Thunder rolled las if it admonished her for all her misdeeds.

At the first cool raindrops, her pace quickened. She jogged home, taking a steadying breath as she stepped inside. 

Her mother smiled, glancing up from her sewing. Rich blue material rested across her lap in sumptuous waves. Undoubtedly expensive, even for their family, Astrid had an inkling it was meant for her. 

"This is nice," she said, rubbing the delicate fabric between her fingers, appreciating the fine threads and their vibrancy. The quality was reminiscent of Haddock family clothing—they had the best of everything. "Where'd it come from?" 

"It was a gift from the Svensons, for you. For the wedding. They told me you and Stefnir were ready to move things along, and I wanted to get an early start on your gown. Best not to rush it," her mother answered, smoothing out the luxurious fibers almost covetously. "So generous of them..." 

"Yeah, no kidding. I'm surprised Fura didn't keep it for herself. She usually takes a bit of her husband's best wares before the rest of us can even glimpse them," Astrid muttered, sauntering into the kitchen space. She rummaged around in baskets for something to soothe her rumbling stomach, settling on an apple. 

"She probably just thought you would look better in it, dear. I happen to agree." 

"Mm. Better to display me in, you mean." Astrid leaned back against the dinner table, watching her mother stitch tiny beads along the silk trim. "Can't have anything 'Svenson' that's less than perfectly polished, right?" 

"That's a very cynical attitude to have about your in-laws. They are to be family, Astrid." 

"All the more right I have to complain." 

Her mother's arms fell to her lap. Her brow was a heavy line. "I thought things were going well between you and Stefnir. Don't tell me you've done something to chase him off like you used to threaten to do?" 

Astrid snorted, taking a bite of her apple. She swallowed and answered, "I couldn't shake him if I tried. When he wants something, he's beastly about it. No, I've got a firm hold on him, Mom. You needn't worry about that. I've done my part, as promised." 

"Oh, don't act like it's the end of your life. Without arranged marriages, you never would've come into this world. Good things can come of such...unions." 

"Like wealth. Pretty things?" Astrid shook a corner of the blue fabric for emphasis. She took another bite of her apple. 

"And love; if you'd stop being so damn obstinate!" Her mother chided. Astrid rolled her eyes and paced the room. He mother continued, "Stefnir cares for you, but you're so determined to sulk behind these closed doors. In marriage, you can be happy, or you can be unhappy. It's your choice; but either way, this wedding will happen. The agreement has long been set. You know that. It's a smart match. Both our clans will only prosper. Isn't that worth something to you?" 

"Of course, it's worth something! I'm going along with it, aren't I?" Astrid snapped. She threw her arm out in the general direction of the Great Hall. "I've got them all convinced I want it! I think I've done a damn good job." 

Her mother nodded, pulling her needle through the precious material. "You have. You'll be set for life. There's nothing a parent wants more than to ensure their children are taken care of." 

Astrid stared at the floor, clenching her teeth. The rain pelted the house in a steady rhythm, muffling the thoughts she worried her mother might hear otherwise. She was furious and resentful, wanting to screech her displeasure at the top of her lungs until someone truly heard her. Every attempt to protest her marriage hit the same wall. She suddenly hated that beautiful fabric her mother sewed as if it were a banner of her entrapment, as if it were the thing keeping her parents staunchly against her freedom. 

"What if there was another clan out there more suitable than the Svensons?" she asked, turning her apple slowly in her hand. She brought it to her mouth, studying her mother as her teeth sank through the skin. 

Her mother scoffed, shaking her head. She did not look up as she secured beads with fastidious little jerks of her needle. "Oh? Which clan did you have in mind? The Jorgensons? As I recall, Snotlout repulses you now. You should be thanking us for sparing you, in that case. Spitelout came 'round asking about you and Snotlout years ago." 

Astrid suppressed the ill shiver as the thought of having Snotlout as her intended. She inhaled sharply, not daring to meet her mother's gaze as she mumbled, "If it's security you want for me, I mean…there's the Haddocks…" 

She glanced up, holding her breath, only to lock eyes with her mother's piercing scrutiny. 

"I thought we nipped that in the bud, love." The endearment was meant to cut the acidity of her tone, but accusation still dripped from every syllable. 

Astrid felt her face burn, there was no way to play it off casually, but that would not stop her from trying. "I'm—yes. I didn't mean anything by it! I was just saying the chief might—" 

Her mother flipped her hair back with a toss of her head in a manner Astrid knew all too well: it was, apparently, one of those inheritable traits. "The chief will not dissolve a fair, binding contract between families," she explained. "Stoick will not get involved just because you are uncomfortable with the idea of marriage, unless the Svensons feel wronged somehow, or they cross us—neither which I foresee happening." 

"Fine. What about divorce?" 

"Astrid!" Her mother's eyes widened and her nostrils flared. The muscles in her neck tightened at the very hint of scandal. 

"It's the best situation!" Astrid held up her hands, placating. "I can marry Stefnir and, that way, no one's word is broken. Then, if I go on to be with Hiccup—" 

"You wouldn't."

There was such a finality in her mother's tone that Astrid was taken aback, lips parting in silent bewilderment.

Her mother explained, "His first marriage must be to a maiden to ensure the legitimacy of an heir. He can't have someone that's been touched by another man—especially not right after you divorced Stefnir, for the sake of the gods, child! You will marry Stefnir, and Hiccup will marry someone outside of Berk. It will be a political marriage, most like—just as his father before him, and so on." 

Astrid's chest heaved at the very thought of Hiccup pledging his devotion to another woman. He would be kind to some stranger, of course, compelled to make her feel welcome among his people. His warmth would undoubtedly earn her affections in a short time; and the mental image of him wrapped around a different set of curves was enough to make Astrid's stomach churn with revulsion. She had a seething hatred for this person—nameless, faceless, and just an idea that would someday be realized. 

"But suppose he didn't love—?" 

"Love isn't a necessity, but stability is fundamental. If you happen to fall in love along the way, then you're one of the lucky ones, like your father and me." Her mother went back to her sewing, sharp eyes flickering up for just a moment. "I am surprised you wish to fixate on such things." 

"I don't! I was just speculating." Astrid took a seat at the table, swiveling on the bench to face her mother. "I guess we can make the engagement official tonight at dinner—announce it, I mean." 

"Think you're ready for that?" her mother wondered, but it was not as much a genuine question as a demand—a call to get her mind right on the issue. 

"Do I really have a choice?" she mumbled. 

"Of course you do, but you might as well make the right one. It will make this whole experience less painful." 

Astrid laughed, hollow and beaten down. "Somehow, mom, I don't think that's possible." 

"Then at least distract yourself. You'll need a headdress for the wedding. Start thinking about the flowers you want in it." 

"Because that's what really matters…"

Her mother stated, "Well, until you say those vows, it had better be." 

Hiccup ducked as a hammer swung haphazardly at his head. Years of dodging irritated blows from his mentor had made him plenty agile. Gobber sneered, hobbling back to his anvil to shape malleable iron that glowed a fiery orange. 

"I should take your head off for abandoning the forge!" he snapped, pounding away at the heated metal. His false tooth was jutted out of his bottom lip in annoyance. He gripped his pair tongs, sparks flying as if they were manifestations of his ire. It used to be intimidating, back when Hiccup was only ten and first sent to study blacksmithing with the colossal man. As he flourished his hammer-prosthesis, Gobber added, "Do we need to review the basics again?" 

"Well, if you need the refresher. I'm good, though," Hiccup teased, removing his apron from the wall. 

Gobber's face fell, glaring at him from under bushy eyebrows. "You can be such a little shit, do you know that?" 

Hiccup gave a small shrug, tying his apron behind his back with nimble fingers. "A matter of opinion." 

"A matter of fact!"Gobber retorted. "Now get on that crucible. I need two dozen studs." 

"I completed all of the orders you set for me to finish yesterday. Really, I make your job substantially easier." Hiccup slipped another set of tongs from the wall. 

"Oh, aye—but you make my headaches substantially worse." 

Hiccup divided up the appropriate amount of ore to be placed in the crucible. "Eh, you take the good with the bad, right?" 

The older Viking grunted, returning to his work. The sound of his hammer tempering the hot ore rang through in the shop, overpowering the howling wind and incessant rainfall. Close bolts of lightning flashed out on the sea, and cracks of thunder reverberated through the ground—but inclement weather was not a sufficient excuse for shirking work for the day. Hiccup secured the crucible with his long and heavy tongs, moving it into the forge and compressing the bellows to rouse the flames into a frenzy. 

"Where did you run off to, anyway?" Gobber asked between strikes of his hammer and rolls of thunder. 

"Why does it matter?" Hiccup replied, bristling at the rather honest question. Images assaulted him of black sand and soft hair, luminous in silver moonbeam. 

"I think I deserve to know what's more pressing than my smithy!" 

Hiccup wished the roaring fire was solely to blame for fine sheen of perspiration breaking out along his upper lip and hairline. If he closed his eyes and reflected on things, he could still recall the weight of Astrid in his lap, feel the tantalizing pressure of her hips grinding against his. "I went to Dragon Island." 

Gobber was paused. "Why would you—?" 

"Never mind why!" Hiccup's ears were burning and he hoped the light of the forge masked it. 

He could not admit he fled the village to brood over unrequited love. Gobber would undoubtedly think him pathetic for it. A Viking would not admit to such things. His mentor would only care to hear the more ribald details: the dance of tongues and passionate rubbing, especially if any awkward and uncomfortable feelings arose in the process. Acceptable details included eager groping and inconvenient erections: bawdy things worth laughing about. 

That was, of course, disregarding the fact that what happened on Dragon Island should never have occurred in the first place. In all actuality, Gobber would have a wealth of criticism and advice Hiccup had no need for. Astrid's lips had been a remedy, a cure for the anguish coursing through him like a poison, killing him with an inescapable despondency. She brought him back from that pit and obliterated all of his self-control. His initial reluctance to kiss her had been the dying breath of his common sense. Then everything was desire without thought and touching on instinct. That long-suppressed need for her had driven the conservative exploration of her body, and every movement of his lips against hers. 

He did not know what would become of them. Prudency had returned on that beach, and their affections had come to a jarring stop. They parted suddenly and without resolution. Astrid had not spoken to him since, but he sensed a fundamental change. The tide of their strained relationship had shifted, though he could not imagine where they would wash up. There was only one thing of which he was truly certain: no one else could know. The fallout would be catastrophic for both of them; a firestorm of consequence and shame, reputations irreparably tarnished. Hiccup cared less about such things for himself. He was no stranger to rebuke and scorn, even if it had been a while since he deserved any; but Astrid was a different kind of soul, with an insatiable drive to please those that counted, along with her severe perfectionism. He did not wish to throw her into scandal, least of all before they were anything scandalous worth being flustered about. 

"You can't be running off whenever you feel like it!" Gobber scolded, plunging the blazing iron into a bucket of water. It hissed in a way that matched the older man's scowl, as if everything in the forge was a reflection of his mood. "The Selection is around the corner, and we'll be drowning in orders for the kiddie saddles." 

"I know that," Hiccup replied. 

How could he not? He had been present at every Selection since its inception—granted, there had only been two of them. He would attend even if his father did not insist on it. Any member of the academy could do the job, but he did not think it egotistical to say, when it came to forging lasting bonds with dragons, he was the expert. 

He compressed the bellows again, the coals burning hotter, and the ore inside the forge melting to the proper consistency. 

"You'll be attending the ceremony with Stoick, no doubt." Gobber removed his work piece from the water and limped over to the forge. "Which'll leave me on my own here for a couple of days—so don't think I won't run you ragged before then!" He returned the metal to the flames. 

Hiccup's lips twitched into a sardonic half-smirk. 

"Please do. I'd rather be in here than out among everyone else. If it's not talk about the Selection, it's talk of upcoming marriage season." He grasped the end of his tongs, walking the crucible to the workbench where the molds lay, taking deliberate steps. 

"Ach, don't I know it? I've heard whispers this morning that one's to be set for the end of the month, already. A little early, if you ask me. Who would be that eager to—?" 

There was a moment's hesitation, where Hiccup could not seem to form the words. Then he interjected, "Stefnir and Astrid." 

Such a palpable uneasiness settled in the air that he did not need to look at Gobber to feel it. Hiccup could hear the older Viking clear his throat; and there was a rattling of metal in the forge as the man shifted his tongs around idly. 

Hiccup could imagine the pitying glance as Gobber replied, "Oh. I, eh…I see." 

But Hiccup could not care less that the older man saw him as a wounded animal. There would be time to lament the wedding. All of it was still a distant glimmer, too far off to truly appreciate its enormity. He and Astrid were going to have to face it: what they were, what they could never be, and what they had so foolishly done. But he would not take for granted that she wanted him. Briefly, she could have him. She was his until Stefnir was her husband. Until Hiccup could process the futility of a relationship with Astrid, he would enjoy curling up with her in the hole they dug for themselves. For so long, he had ached for her. He was so thankful that, for a moment, he was no longer hurting. Not like he used to, and not anything like he knew he would soon experience.

So, as he poured liquid iron into molds, it was not quite as insincere as it once was when he said, "Good for them." 

Astrid felt uncomfortable in her own skin, hanging on Stefnir's arm and smiling amid all of the claps and back-slapping. She looked so thrilled at the announcement of their engagement in the mead hall, but it was not her. She had been rehearsing. Always rehearsing. The moment was something akin to an out-of-body experience. She played a character: the girl she had tried to believe she was for the past two years. She had been so convincing to everyone else that she had almost bought into the lie. 

Dragon Island had awoken her from her trance. The little moments stolen with Hiccup leading up to it, though he had never reciprocated, had kept her somewhat in touch with her real self. She had not given into the illusion completely because Hiccup was her anchor to reality, as harsh as the truth of "them" had been, and still was to an extent. 

She wondered how long she would last in marriage. How long would she maintain her spirit before she was crushed under the farce; before she gave up and stopped fighting altogether; before all the passion in her fizzled out? 

She gladly accepted a congratulatory tankard of ale when it was offered. As the drink sloshed over her tongue, it was the only thing about the entire scene that felt normal. Stefnir kept pulling her close, kissing her head, and she had to will herself not to tense up. 

Stefnir quickly led her elsewhere. She was no longer an integral part of the academy's social circle and so he wanted her to pour more energy into his friends and the loose bonds she had with them. Lying was easier when she was not emotionally invested. It was a great deal harder to act pleased when Stefnir paraded her in front of the chief. She felt transparent under the examination of Stoick the Vast. She wondered if Hiccup often felt the same; and she flashed her chief a genial smile before drowning it in her mug of ale. 

"Congratulations, to the both of you," Stoick said, and it was such a genuine air that Astrid's guilt intensified about tenfold. 

She wanted to blurt out apology, seek forgiveness for the undue pain she had caused his son. She wanted to beg for him to dissolve the arrangement between her clan and the Svensons; but Stoick was lawful and fair. He would not do such a thing unless it was warranted by more than personal bias alone. Her mother had made that clear enough. 

"I hope it's not asking too much to be married so soon after the Selection," Stefnir said. 

"To go from the Selection to a wedding between two prominent clans means prolonged festivities and high spirits for our people. I wouldn't say I'm too displeased," Stoick replied. "We do need to discuss the building of your new home, however. I suggest you speak with Thorston when you have the chance." 

"I'll get right on that." 

The two men began discussing matters in which Astrid had little interest: talk of construction and the Svenson family merchant trade. As Stefnir droned on, she scanned the Great Hall for the only person she wanted to see. 

Hiccup had been absent from the chattering throngs of well-wishers surrounding her, but she spotted him among the other academy members in the back of the hall. She expected him to keep his back turned, speaking to the twins about whatever they found pressing. When he glanced over his shoulder, their eyes met with disarming suddenness. 

Heat surged through her and her stomach fluttered. She felt an urgency to flee her future husband for the evening; to escape the crowded Great Hall for somewhere quieter, somewhere intimate. Sneaking off would be worth it just to be alone with her thoughts, but she fully intended to have company. 

With the tiniest jerk of her head toward the double doors, she hoped Hiccup got the message. 

"I think I'm going to take Stormfly out," Astrid said, gazing up at Stefnir with as much innocence as she could muster. 

He stopped mid-sentence, quirking an eyebrow as he turned from the chief to consider her. "This late? In the middle of all this?" he gestured around at the rest of the room, still buzzing with anticipation of their impending nuptials. 

"It's been storming all day. She's been cooped up in the stables. I think she needs to stretch her wings." 

Stefnir did not look convinced. "We should both stay here," he insisted, "for everyone." 

"Getting married doesn't mean my dragon comes second." She shrugged off his arm. 

"Ah, let her go. This isn't the end of the celebration," Stoick interjected, and she could have hugged him.

Stefnir glanced between the chief and Astrid, and she could see him struggling for a suitable rebuttal. He leaned in to kiss her when he fell short, and she quickly raised her mug, tipping back the last drops of her ale. He settled for her cheek, frowning. 

"I pray, my love, do not weep for me," she told him, gently grasping his chin between her thumb and index finger. Stoick chuckled softly but Stefnir only furrowed his brow, missing the poetic reference. She had forgotten her intended was not the most well-read man on Berk. 

She smiled then turned on her heel, weaving through the sea of Vikings toward the doors. She cast a sidelong glance toward the other academy members, face falling when she saw Hiccup standing there, still talking with the Twins, flanked by his dragon. Perhaps he had not picked up on her little cue? She felt a welling disappointment, but Stormfly was plenty worth the escape. 

She set her empty mug on a table as she fled the Great Hall, finding comfort in the silence of the village. There was no clanging metal from the forge, and only the cry of Terrible Terrors disrupted the still and quiet of Berk at night. The lingering smell of rain permeated everything, and puddles reflected the stars above, almost to suggest the ground had opened up to reveal another expanse of sky beneath her. No one would bother her as she jogged toward the stables, mud squelching underfoot; for nearly everyone was drinking themselves into an evening stupor. 

The stifling heat of hundreds of dragons nestled in their stalls was strangely welcoming. Though the air was thick and humid with their collective body heat, Astrid could breathe much easier than she had in the past couple of hours. A few dragons growled she passed, and it might have been intimidating to any non-Hooligans. Astrid simply ran her hand over their various snouts, earning appreciative rumblings as she ambled over to Stormfly's stall. 

Her Nadder perked up at the sight of her, leaning into Astrid's touch. 

"Hey girl! Want to fly?" Astrid stroked along her dragon's jaw, grinning at the way Stormfly luxuriated in it. "I'll take that as a yes." 

She sidled into the stall, taking her saddle down from it peg. It was a beautiful work of leather from a much happier time. Stormfly held still as Astrid fitted it to her, but thoughts of Stefnir intruded in on the moment: his possessiveness, suspicion, and the way he had been puzzled by a line of well-known poetry to those who bothered to learn such things. He did not seem to have much interest in the arts, but there was a prominent side of Astrid that found beauty and meaning in life beyond wealth, influence, and muscle. 

She sighed, patting her dragon. "How am I going to make this marriage work, Stormfly?" The Nadder squawked and Astrid smirked, shaking her head. "I wish I understood you. Maybe Hiccup could translate?"

Her heart felt heavy as she led Stormfly out of her stall, wishing she had been clearer with her intentions, then Hiccup might be there with her. A dismal thought swirled in her mind that, maybe, he had come to his senses and had the foresight to end whatever emotional affair they had started before it got out of hand. That was the right thing to do.

Stanzas came together in her mind, giving voice to her dull mood. She would have to enjoy more intellectual pursuits in private, for it appeared she was to be bound to a man who could not relate. 

"Battle worn and weary, I welcome unrelenting night," she said, reciting her favorite poem as she readjusted and tightened the saddle. "I pray, my love, do not weep for me, for no longer must I fight. No sails seen in the distance to herald my return. I join the fallen in Valhalla, as my body now must burn. I lay upon this pyre, and the stars glint overhead—" 

"I pray, waste not the time to search for me, for verily I am dead." 

Astrid nearly yelped, and she whipped around to meet the curious gaze of a Night Fury. Stormfly was thrilled, bounding over to greet Toothless with all of her enthusiasm. But Astrid was unconcerned with the dragons. Hiccup was there, every bit as imprudent, shortsighted, bullheaded as she was. The smallest tether of dignity kept her from launching herself into his arms with relief. 

At least she was not alone in her impetuousness. 

"I was feeling smothered back there," she told him, blood rushing louder in her ears with every step he took closer to him. "I thought taking our dragons out might be nice. After that storm, I bet they're just dying to…" 

Hiccup just smiled and she realized he did not care about her reason. He did not need an explanation like Stefnir so often did. There was no doubting her word or following it up with a series of probing questions. She had wanted to see him and he had complied; and there was no need to defend herself to him. 

"Truth is, I was beginning to think you decided to sensible," she said, grinning as she found his smile infectious. 

Hiccup smirked, glancing down at the floor as he replied, "Common sense and I are not often on good terms." His eyes flickered back to her face as Toothless appeared at his shoulder, nudging his rider with impatience. "Okay, okay bud." He climbed into his saddle. 

Astrid pulled herself up onto Stormfly's back and waited for Hiccup and Toothless to take the lead, but he just gestured out into the night and said, "Milady." 

She beamed at him, delighted to hear that endearment again after so long. 

They flirted with a rather solid line, whether it was flying side by side on their dragons or just holding friendly conversation; they had definitely stepped a toe over it on Dragon Island. Astrid wanted to cross that last boundary. She knew it was unwise, and their relationship was doomed to spiral downward as soon as it got off the ground. But there was an ease to being with Hiccup, as if the past two years had never happened; and they were only continuing where they had left off. She laughed as Toothless cut her off, bit her lip as Stormfly dove toward the shoreline to entice the Night Fury into more daring competition. 

The sea rippled as Toothless skimmed along it, cutting the surface with the tip of his wing. The salty air tugged at Astrid's braid, loosening a few strands of it. Her hair became tangled and briny, but it was invigorating. Though she should have been in the Great Hall with her Stefnir, basking in the glow of her engagement, it could not feel better than flying with Hiccup. She was getting a taste of what her life needed to be, chasing after that Night Fury without care. All guilt was left behind in the stables. 

"Hiccup!" she called over the rushing wind. He twisted in his saddle, gazing back at her. "Race you to the cove!" 

Toothless veered sharply and Astrid grinned, urging Stormfly after him. Her dragon's wings beat behind her legs. She could feel Stormfly's power in her own body. Waves turned into rocky cliffs, which then became fir trees; but all was blurred mass in the darkness. The forests of Berk were long black fingers, reaching up to snag them. Toothless glided low over the trees in defiance, making branches rustle violently. Stormfly would not catch him unless the Night Fury wanted to be caught. Hiccup used to let her win on occasion, but it had been years since there had been an honest race between them. He wanted to win, and Astrid was alright with losing for once. She soared into the cove after him, cheeks hurting from the wind's assault and her broad smile. They were both breathless, dismounting their dragons with soft laughter. 

"That was amazing," Astrid said, flattening the fly-away strands of her hair. "I needed that." 

"I almost forgot what a real race felt like," Hiccup remarked. He did not bother to fight with his own hair. 

Then, they were standing too close, and that line of propriety was somewhere between them again. Astrid could sense it even stronger than the night before. She was thinking straighter, more aware of her close proximity to Hiccup. Dragon Island had been a flurry of pent-up frustration finally set loose. Sensation had taken over everything, but the cove was different. She was less desperate now. She could look at Hiccup—really look at him—and she grasped him by the elbow; an innocuous place to touch, to feel him truly there with her, as solid and real as she was. He reached up and traced her braid with his fingers, cradling the end of it loosely in his palm. He stared at her, and that accursed line was dissolving with her inhibitions. 

"Are you alright?" she asked. 

He raised an eyebrow. "I think I should be the one asking you that. I'm not about to marry someone I don't like." He tugged at her braid, similar to Stefnir's habit, but decidedly different: he was sweeter, with concern rather than condescension. 

"Like?" Astrid scoffed. "I 'like' him just fine. That doesn't get me very far in our relationship, though." 

There was a sadness in Hiccup—an aching plain on his face, on her behalf. "And still, you'll marry him?"

"What choice do I have, Hiccup? If I don't marry him, I'm disgracing my family. If I do marry him, I can't just divorce him and…" 

"Be with me?" he suggested, so calm that it hardly seemed scandalous at all. "Is that what you want?" There was something intense about him, deep in his gaze, which made her feel like the center of the universe. 

She tossed her head back with a hollow laugh. "I'm beginning to think it hardly matters what I want." 

"It matters to me. Until you're his wife, it matters to me and…and afterwards, probably." 

"Hiccup, I don't know what I'm doing, here," she confessed, more helpless than she had ever felt. "This? Us? I know it's far better than where we were yesterday afternoon before Dragon Island, but...You know as well as I do that this is wrong." 

"Yes, it is—only because a few people decided we can't be together. It's isn't right or fair—" 

"No, but neither is this. This isn't fair to our families. To Stefnir. We don't even know where this is headed. It can't be any place good—but I don't want to stop it, either." 

Ah, yes. So, she was still woefully selfish.

"Then, we won't stop. For however long we've got, we keep going." He gripped her by the arms and she leaned into him. 

"Isn't that just reckless?" she asked, bringing her arms around his neck. 

"Of course it is, but when has that stopped us before? I think we do 'reckless' pretty well." 

Her lips brushed his, hesitating. She felt she at least owed him an apology, like she owed his father, her parents, and the whole Svenson clan. Before lucidity died in the shadow of lust, she wanted him to know she understood the weight of what they were doing, that it was her fault, and that she had dragged him needlessly into it. She did not know which was worse: causing him two years of heartache by pretending she was giddy in love with Stefnir or putting him in the position of loving her illicitly. He was the heir to Berk, and he was caught in a disgraceful affair. 

She murmured, "I'm…I'm sorry, I—" 

His hands dropped to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He was warm and it made her entire body ache for him. 

"Don't be," he said. "I'm not." 

His complacency would not last. So, Astrid took advantage of it while she could and kissed him, not nearly as fervent as she had been the night before. This kiss was slower, deeper; and strangely, more arousing. They were committed, buried deep in the muck together. 

[sarambcreates]

Hybrid Forms: Illustrating and designing the cover

Before starting to illustrate the final product, I made a rough plan of what I will include. This was not necessarily the final design, just a rough idea of what I need to have in each page, such as a publisher logo on one of the flaps and quotations, the kind of thing you expect to find on a book.

I decided to start off with the front cover, so that after that I can organically design and make decisions based on what I created for the first page. I started by drawing a meditating lady, and used the stock image below as my guideline. 

While I followed the reference I used the symmetry tool in order to make her perfectly symmetrical with the exception of the crossed legs, so that it looks very visually harmonical. I made her green to emphasize the mother nature look and added hard shadows to make it a modern sleek look but there is texture since she is supposed to come from nature which has a lot of texture. My intent was to achieve a polished, upgraded version of the illustration I made in the workshop.

I changed the colours as I felt the background was too green leaning, and I wanted a strong but soft blue in order to transmit calm. I used a textured brush to moss to her as I felt it would make her more visually interesting than just vines. 

I added her hair by making it out of leaves just like the original drawing I did in the workshop. I drew a bundle of leaves and duplicated them until it was a halo of leafy hair.

I added a hill under her and roots to show her grounding through meditation. I added more texture to the sky to make it look painterly and soothing. Continuing to pull from the drawings in class, I added blooming pink flowers as it again communicates her emotion, as well as being reflective of her giving life to things - a mother. It also adds a nice contrast and a third accent colour that makes the whole piece more eye catching.

I played with what I had and drew a tree silhouette as it is part of the drawing but should not take the focus from the lady. This give a nice framing to her and adds interest to the piece without taking from her. The paler colour fo the tree silhouette also allows the text of title that I inserted to pop out more against the background and be more legible. Overall, I liked the ideas I was playing with but there was something about it that felt off -  it was not giving me book cover vibes. It was looking more like a poste that stands by itself, and feels a bit flat too overall, partly due to the tree silhouette removing some of the 3 dimensionality from the figure. I could not figure out what was missing so I left it to rest and returned to it the next day.

The next day I came to the conclusion that what was bothering me is that it was not giving the polish and refinement that I intended with this cover, as it should want to attract a side of the public that would want to purchase it just to display it on a shelf. I realised that part of this refinement was not coming due to the overuse fo textures, from the one on her skin, to the moss and the one in the background and hill. I scrapped all of them, moss included, and substituted the moss for vines that still insinuate she is one with the nature, but it looks less overwhelming to the eye. I made the blue a slighter deeper more saturated in order to catch the eye better, and also changed her tone of green to be in balance with this new colour.

I added back the tree, this time the shape more flowy and less detailed, and with a much fainted contrast with the background in order to distance it from the  figure. I also added tree branches to make her seem like she is the tree itself. Because of the business of the branches I added a light shadow to the title to try to make it stand out more.

From this last addition of making her into a tree, I also realised the trunk did not need to be there at all, as she is the trunk, the stability of that tree. This imagery also alludes to the mother’s role in a family and how she is many times what gives stability to the family. By erasing the trunk it draws the focus again to her. Even though I just removed all of the texture, I realised now that it was lacking too much now, so instead of adding too much texture like before I should pick one spot only. I decided to add it to the main background colour and it added the relaxing painterly texture I wanted it to have initially, without taking from the piece’s polish.

The title was still a bit lost against the branches, so I added an outline to it. It however made it look cheap and unharmonious with the rest of the piece. I also realised here that the font is part of the issue here and I had to change it to something more mature that reflects the adult themes of this book. Choosing a serif font could also make it more professional, academic looking (a doctor is supposed to be the author of this book) and make the book feel more reliable.

Changing the font gave it a sense of maturity that was lacking from the cover, and I was a lot more content with this result. I went ahead and added a subtitle and the author’s name, making sure to include Dr in it to add authority and reliability to the book. The title was still getting a bit lost in the branches so I added a slight light pink shadow to it by duplicating the title and putting it behind the main title. To make the title less lost I also toned down the saturation of the branches to make it bleed more into the background.

With the front cover mainly complete, I brought it into photoshop where I would be able to edit it more thoroughly using the healing tool. I started by making the front flap, and used the content aware fill for a base of what it woill look like. I want the whole cover to flow, and there to not be any illustration interrupted suddenly. The fill however predicted the shapes a bit off and non geometric. I also felt like the title was not standing out quite enough yet, so I further faded the branches behind it and got it to finally stand out enough. I also included the new york time bestselling author in a circle that looks like a sticker, just like many books have it as a sticker.

I used a simple brush tool with the right colours to make the shapes inside the front flap continue the ones on the cover. I used high streamlining so that the shapes would come out nice and smooth. If I look at the front flap by itself, the shapes that bleed into it look very gaphric aand pattern like, which I liked, so I decided to add one more shape on the right side in order to make it look intentional.

I replicated the shape of the tree, which made it look like there are more trees outside what the dust jacket covers. I also realised that the shapes gave me dynamic negative spaces perfect to insert the quotes, which I created using very flaterring lanugauge. I made them come from several sources, from media outlets to other authors and other doctors, which would give credibility to the book.

For the Back cover I knew there would be a significant amount of empty space as the description of the book won’t take over the whole page, so I decided to add another tree. I went back on procreate and I edited the same flowers I put on the lady on the tree to make it more interesting.

I added the text in a bok in a very geometric, flowy shape that is in the3 style of the other blobs of colour, however made it geometric. I chose this shape as it slightly resembles a flower, adding to the whole nature theme. The spine was still empty, so I decided to make the tree spill over onto the spine as it adds a nice feminine accent that will make the spine stand out against other books. This created these two nice negative spaces that perfectly fit the title and the author. However when I looked at everything as a whole, the tree was not balanced anymore as it ended before the back flap, so I made it completely symmetrical and allowed the branches to also adorn the backflap. This again would add a nice feminine touch to the back flap. I just had to add the text about the doctor and pick out a stock image of a professional lady, as well as a publisher and bar code. 

[elriell]

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.  

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck  someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."  Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option  of leaving if it became too much.  Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

&

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid.  Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."  

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

VS

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.  Offer and permission.  He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

[bloodycassian]

anon asked:

ok hear me out, azriel x reader where reader can hear thoughts or something along those lines and she doesn’t know how to control it so she’s constantly hearing or feeling thoughts/emotions and it’s heats super overwhelming and az helps her through it <3

The headaches hadn't stopped for weeks. Rhys had even called over a medwitch from the continent to help, but there was nothing she could see that was wrong. They were all worried, but their worries just somehow made your head hurt even more. The whispers you could hear from them down the stairs of the townhouse were the worst part. 'Do they need a cleansing?' 'What happened to cause it?' 'Their body is doing this for a reason.' they went on and on and on, never answering each other. Each voice different through the muffling of the walls.  You were ready to scream. Pillow over your head wouldnt even block them out. You rocked in bed, hands over your ears. Nothing, no more silence ever. Just the ringing in your head of all the voices. Mor had tried asking her father if he knew anything about such subjects. Anything for help. Azriel swooped into the city streets, nodding at a few shopkeeps as he went. After being gone for the last few weeks, the welcome faces of his home were a sight for sore eyes. He held the bag of various salts and salves gently, just as he had his whole trip back. He landed with precision at the front gate of the town home. The familiar wrought iron fence squeaking slightly when he opened it. You felt his presence before he even opened the front door. The coolness of his essence seeping through the walls. The curling shadows that darkened everything ever so slightly. "Your condition seems to have...developed since I left." He set the tote down on the chair by the door, then closed it softly. The whispering became more intense, a pounding in your head that drowned out almost everything else.  "Oh-" He breathed as he walked in. A shocked look then he was grinning. "Leave us." He dismissed Rhys, who gave him a look before obeying. He took off his jacket, leaving him in a dark tunic that made his eyes look brighter. He cocked his head when staring at you, then took a breath. The shadows seemed to summon around him, making him look even more intimidating than normal. They slunk around his ankles like a fog. Then they covered the walls of the room, blocking off the light from the window entirely. The relief in your mind was overwhelming.  You choked out a sob, looking at him with wide eyes. The silence, the weight taken from your brain was like breathing for the first time. "H-how?" You panted, getting up from the bed. Sickness did not weigh you down any longer. The pounding ceased completely, alleviating your too warm temples. He came close to you, only too close because of the thin nightgown you wore. Really it was one of Cassian's old shirts that just fitted you like a dress. When you had taken his room due to your apparent illness you had found a few 'interesting' items of his that were left. "It seems your condition has...evolved since I saw you last." He reached a hand out to you, the siphons atop thrumming with a warm dark blue. You took it tentatively, your eyes slid shut -then there he was. His scent, his thoughts, his everything was in your mind. You scrambled away from it mentally, your heart slamming in your chest. He stroked a thumb over your hand. His mental voice was warm, yet rough and commanding. "Slow. Think, but slowly. I'm here, you're okay." The voice said.  His darkness seemed to follow him to your mind, coating it in a coolness that was much appreciated. "What do I do? What am I?" You took a breath, trying to center yourself. Your entire being was roaring at you to fight back against the intrusion, but he shushed you into not trying it. "You...are new. You're like me, in a way." He whispered softly, his essence drifting over you comfortingly. Like a soft blanket, cold but still comforting.  "How do I get it ito stop?" You sighed, wanting to bury your head in your hands again. He touched you then, slowly at first. Dragging a soft, textured hand up to your wrist, then pulling you in for a hug. His warmth was the opposite of everything else about him, those shadows did nothing against the core of him, his heat.  "You dont, you learn how to make it work with you." He said aloud, his presence rolling out of your mind like a thundercloud. He pulled out of the embrace, "You need to make the thoughts blend like street noise- like a crowd. Learn to select what you want to hear. "  "You make it sound so easy." You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Azriel may or may not have glanced at how it hitched up the oversized t shirt. Hunger opened up in the pit of his stomach at the filthy thoughts. He knew it was Cassian's shirt, recognized and scented it. It made him want to put his own scent on you in several different, creative ways. He cracked a grin and shrugged slightly, "It'll be like reading a new language. But you need to learn to speak it first." He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lead you to the balcony, the shadows following you in a close bubble the whole way.  "All these people have their thoughts, their words and actions. My shadows tell me all about their outfits, their scents, their hair. Unnecessary unless they have a weapon." He gestured to a few fae males outside a townhome a few houses down. One threw their arms up in the air and stormed back inside." I can't keep them from giving me this information, but I do let it go. I dont even listen unless I detect a threat."  You let out a long breath, feeling the anxiety of him leaving already. "Please stay." His stomach dropped at the words. You grabbed for his hand. As if the open sky was demanding he take off that second. " I cant-" You kept your voice from trembling. "It's too much. Why me? Why now?" Tears threatened and you looked away. He couldnt bear to see you in such pain. He wanted - he needed to give you relief from it. He squared his shoulders and squeezed your hand back. "Are you afraid to fly?" he asked, flexing his wings. The shadows answered with their own wave. "I'm not the biggest fan-" Before you could give your list of excused you'd rather not fly, he was shooting into the air, the backs of your thighs rubbing over his deliciously warm skin. Your yelp of surprise was left behind you. You held on to his shoulders for dear life. "If you would open your eyes you might not be so scared." He laughed, his siphons glaring a bright shield around you that protected you from the wind. He flew fast, and far. His presence was the only one you felt, like a cool rain on your still reeling mind. He had sent Rhys an advisory thought before he took you, letting him know you needed some 'fun'. "If I open my eyes I'm going to vomit all over you." You said, squeezing your eyes tighter. You felt the laugh through his chest. His thumb circled the back of your knee, giving you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the slight chill running through the shield. The shirt was not nearly enough for an outing, and you doubted he was taking you anywhere with anyone who would mind. The thought sent a thrill through you. Alone. He wanted to be alone with you.  As if in approval, his essence drifted happily into your mind, caressing you as his thumb did. He flew lower slowly, enjoying your scent mixed with the cool smell of the lake below. The way the sun at this angle made your hair shine. He landed softly, setting you down only after you'd made him promise you were no longer flying.  "We're done...for now." He winked when you opened, marveling at his wind tosseld hair for a second before collecting yourself and brushing your shirt absently. He grinned wider, and the coolness you'd felt since he showed up in the town home receded. You felt...like you. Normal again, weightless in comparison after the weeks of buzzing in your head. And the view beyond his goofy grin was marvelous. A snowcapped mountain towered above, sloping to create the lake. Mixes of different rock lay everywhere. The scattered pines seemed like giants whispering in the breeze. "Listen to the birds, enjoy the silence for a while." He said, then began walking to the bank of the bright blue water. You stood in shock for a while, letting the sound of the wind and nothing else seep into you. You reveled in it, joying in the simplicity of it. Everything seemed so much louder than you remembered.  You sat on a boulder and watched him skip rocks, the short splats of them echoing off the mountainside. He skipped one after another, occasionally picking up smaller ones and pocketing them. You let your mind wander, trying to regain the feeling he had shrouded you with in the townhome. The solid wall he had put up around your mind for you. But he had said you needed to learn to let it blend in, to deal with it and not shut it out. It was an asset, not a hinderance. You shuddered at using the gift for much. You didnt care to know peoples ins and outs in normal conversation, let alone without them knowing. You attempted to summon that wall. It was like grasping at water, thick and heavy and impossible. The lingering remnants of control slipped away like sand through your fingers. You buried your face in your hands, letting the tears fall.  When he approached, you didn't bother hiding. He had been in your head, he knew what it was like. He said nothing, just wrapped an arm around you and let you cry into his shoulder. Holding you tighter on the bigger sobs that ripped out of you. 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hi🥰 Congrats on 2k!!! For your blurb night, can I request the reader taking sleeping pills while her and Tom were waiting for their flight and Tom decides to mess with her when they already landed, telling the reader that they missed their flight and stuff like that?

Resting up for the flight

Pairing | Tom Holland x reader

Summary | Based on the request

Warnings | use of sleeping tablets, cheeky Tom, references to sex

2K blurb masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“Don’t be one of those whities who claps when the plane lands, or as of right now, arrives.” You sighed, watching at Tom huffed at your reference, and glared with false betrayal towards you. The line that creased in the margin between his brows amused you, it showed the affect that you were having on him, to which was purposeful.

“Some days, i really hate that you were a fan before this arrangement.” He moved his finger in the space between the pair of you, hinting heavily at the secluded relationship that you were vouched in. It was true, you had been a supporting human within the base of his career audience, but you had no regrets throughout that phase, it had gotten you to where you were now; with Thomas Stanley Holland, the man that had once been a crush, and now, the infatuation was reciprocated, and more realistic.

“How are other days of this arrangement?” You sat up higher in your waiting area seat, looking him directly in the face with executing and wide eyes. “I mean, I’m sure there are a few benefits that I could easily take away, and forbid you from, with a simple word that has you aching to apologise for being so high and mighty about being a celebrity that I used to enjoy watching on a screen.”

“Used to?” He scoffs, shaking his head as he adjusts the cap on his head, leaning back further into the functional furniture of the aircraft. “So, if I believe that I am hearing you correct darling, no longer do you clench your thighs together when you see me through our television in that Spider-Man suit, nor do you take pleasure from seeing me when I get out of it either.”

“Nope.” A smirk covered your face, albeit accompanying your clear lies, that he saw through clearer than he could a window. But you saw this, as an opportunity. It would be easy to rile him up, and frustrate him for the rest of the three hour plane wait, leaving him lonely, and craving to irritate you in return, although, it would be impossible.

He watched your hands with laser eyes as you rifled through your hand bag, locating your pills that you had been permitted to have aboard the flight. To be more specific, they were sleeping pills, that would knock you out into a deep slumber, during the entirety of the time whilst the vehicle was in flight. “Night babe.”

The smirk remained, mocking him as you spilled a couple pills out into the palm of your hand, rolling them under your thumb as you sent him a wink, tossing the small medical pebbles into your mouth, as you reached for his water bottle, which aided in swallowing the tablets.

“Night dear.” Tom replied, as he watched you return the plastic and recyclable container that was filled with water, before your lashes fluttered inaudibly, resting on the beneath of your eyes, as you softly shook your head, before resting the side of it upon his shoulder, nuzzling into him, and inhaling his scent before sleep kidnapped you from consciousness.

A sigh left your lips, as you rubbed your cheek alongside the woollen texture of his black hoodie, feeling how his fingers toyed with the frontal strands of your hair. You could still smell his deodorant, it made you hum at the familiarity, and so the actor realised, that you must’ve forgotten of your attempts of burdening him with coupling annoyance.

“You awake baby?” His accent rendered through your ears, making your nod against him, alongside a small, and meek ‘yes’, that brought an adoring smile onto Tom’s face. “Good. I have to tell you something...”

His silence afterwards had you awakening from your deviant sluggishness, your lids peeling up as tucked into the crook of his elbow, glancing up at him with curious and crusty cornered eyes that had collected dust from your tiredness.

“Wait, what is it Tommy?” You licked your lips expectedly, the corners of your lips tugging up as he pressed a gentle and sweet kiss upon your forehead, retracting slightly, as his hand brushed upon the side of your face. “Tell me sweetie.”

“We um, you looked so pretty sleeping, and - we missed our flight...” instantly you tugged back to get a whole gaze over his face, a gasp pulling from your throat as you stared at him with utmost terror. You had to get home, if you did not, then your boss would be on your ass, and keeping hours of your pay check for your late arrival home.

“No.” You spoke, your lips rubbing together as your mind spiralled in a tornado of overthinking. “You should have woke me up Tom! We’re gonna have to buy new tickets, and who knows when they’ll be for. Next week probably, because they were booked for the holidays. I’m screwed, Waldorf is gonna fire me, and I need that damned promotion!”

Your hands raged in the air, grasping your head from shock as they shook frustratedly, your fingers pulling at your hair, as you glanced away from him, and towards the ground. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken those tablets.” Tom muttered, his remark causing you to fill yourself up with rage, just as he wanted.

“So it’s my fault, because I was asleep? You were awake Tom, and -“ you stopped yourself from saying any more as your boyfriend began to cackle amusedly, covering his noir with his hand as you managed to hold up your glare on him. “And what are you laughing at Thomas?”

“Our flight is in twenty minutes.” He stated, smirking as you lightly kicked him and crossed your arms over the other. “Don’t pout, it’s hot, like really hot, but you’re not doing it for the reasons i want. And now, you aren’t even speaking to me, so that’s fun.”

“I can’t believe you made me feel bad.” You threw your hands up, exasperated by the situation, as you felt washed over with relief, knowing that the pair of you would return home on time, as expected.

“You felt bad? You sounded more like you were angry at me. I think you need to space out your emotions babe, it’s kinda difficult to decipher just how you are feeling.” In a sudden, you turned to him, sucking your cheeks in to compose an expression towards him, as your pupils focused harshly upon him.

“I think I’m going to take those benefits away...” Tom realised that he had messed up, and he was about to try and convince you that his joke was harmless, more so since you were going home, the place where he was eager to reap particular benefits of being with you.