#But other than that I actually really like how this drawing came out!!!

[everestgale]

You're lucky. What I would give to be able to forget—

[Drawing and design notes under the cut]

*cackles* Turns out, even putting just Hero through Moment of Clarity wasn't enough for Everest, they needed to make all of their voices suffer :]

This drawing was a very funny one because it just kept evolving until it got to what you see now! It was supposed to be a quick doodle where I send my human Hero to MoC... but then I wanted to add the other voices and give this drawing some nice lineart... and then I wanted to add flat colors to make sure each character is distinct from one another... and then I added light shading—

Despite how much it grew out of my control, and despite how much trouble it gave me composition and concept-wise, I'm quite happy with the final result. I'm glad I could at least play around and make some concepts for how my voices would change during the Moment of Clarity. Some were definitely on the simpler side, but others had quite a few neat details! If you're curious to read my thoughts on that, well, there we go!

Stubborn: definitely one of the simpler ones, though both of his Adversary-borrowed horns are snapped, almost symbolizing his usual will to fight depleting almost completely. He also has a bunch of bruise/dust marks all over him, as though he just came out of a fight.

Broken: I went with the obvious one and gave him a bunch of cracks for how shattered he is. But I also made his ears longer (which is the case for all of my voices that have "loose"/hair-like feathers - which are Hero, Smitten, and Broken)... and also he has a suspicious scar on his neck—

Cold: he is the voice that has the least "damage" on him, only really having some missing/messy bang feathers. He does, however, seem even colder than usual, insisting that all other voices are too soft, and they need to be numb and unfeeling... what's a better way to represent that than to literally have him covered in light icy texture?

Paranoid: my poor Paranoid always, always wears gloves when he can, it's a headcanon of mine that he feels extremely uncomfortable and anxious without them. And, uh, he is not wearing any in this drawing. Also just like the Hero in this and previous MoC drawings, he does not have any claws on his hands. His claws are gone :]

Skeptic: he was a difficult one for sure, I couldn't quite figure out how to represent his damage and distress. I ended up breaking a link on his neck shackle (which is barely noticeable), breaking his spiky collar feathers (which is barely noticeable), and adding a light "unraveling" texture (which is, again, barely noticeable). He does look very uncertain and confused, though, so at least I got that right!

Smitten: Smitten borrowed some of the elements from his HEA design, mainly the straightened hair and fallen-out curls. But to differentiate between the two designs, I also added a crack along the center of Smitten's face, like the one you might see on a broken heart :]

Opportunist: Opportunist actually doesn't seem to be doing too horribly during MoC (at least if you compare him to some of the other voices), which is why his design isn't as damaged as some of the other ones. He is tattered and messy, sure, but not completely destroyed like some of the other voices, though I did make sure to give him a very wide-eyed... half-scared, half-empathetic expression, I guess.

Hunted: while his quote "Kill or be killed" was taken out during one of the updates, I really wanted to include it in the drawing because I think it characterizes Hunted during this route very well. That's why his primary damage is blood splatters, from numerous and numerous and numerous deaths.

Cheated: he was fairly simple to do because his default design is already cut up and stitched together. All I needed to do was to add a few more gaping wounds and unravel his stitches. That's why his right ear is missing, too!

Contrarian: similar to Cheated, Contrarian also just got a feature of his regular design—cracks—greatly exaggerated. Contrarian really didn't seem to be doing well during MoC, which is why I went all out on his cracks. Couldn't let him open his eyes, or drop his "smiley" expression completely, but you hopefully can tell that he is barely hanging in there.

Hero: oh, Hero, my sweet, sweet boy Hero. I already talked about his MoC design in a previous post—broken visor feathers to represent his destroyed nature as a "hero" and missing claws—and his long, very unkempt feathers represent the passage of time (how long they've been stuck in there) and almost unraveling (how badly has Hero been damaged by whatever they all experienced in the lead up to Moment of Clarity).

...should be all I wanted to ramble about! Hope you all like this drawing as much as I enjoyed making it :]

[moonlitenvyillust]

Epic Telemachus HC's because i am bored and i cant post any drawings of him (yet) because i havent finished his design

|• He draws alot to pass his time. Before the suitors came, he used to draw designs for Penelope to weave. Which resulted into his scarf, the last thing she weaved for him before she had to make the shroud bluff

|• Telemachus, every year, makes a hyper realistic drawing of him, his mother, and his father while waiting. Why? Because one, he needs something to pass the time. Two, he wants to get better. But on the other hand, its never finished. Because he doesnt know how his father looks.

|• he's actually a master of sarcasm™ and Vicious mockery™ but locked in during little wolf because he knows he cant bitch tongue his way out of this one

|• he has long hair and ties it up. Fight me.

|• growing up with drunk suitors around, he does not know romantic love. But he is oh so very aware of lust. To him, because of lack of understanding and lack of anyone teaching him about it, he sees lust and love as two very similar things. And listening into his parents in WYFILWMA he is contemplimenting wether or not he should barge in and stop anything from happening

|• self esteem issues from the suitor's. Oh come on i cant be the only one that sees this???

|• you've seen Trans!Telemachus headcannons. Now i propose, genderfluid!Telemachus. Gender is a social construct. Fuck you

|• remember the scarf i mentioned in the first point? Telemachus wears that thing EVERYWHERE. and he refuses to take it off. A reminder of who he is and who he thrives to keep safe

|• he has His mother's eye shape but with Odysseus's sharpness. Does that make sense? No? Yeah ill post a drawing of their eyes later idk

|• he needs friends everyone. His only friend all his life is a fucking dog (no hate to Argos he's amazing)

|• inherted some of Penelope's naiad-like features. Really good swimmer. Fight me. (How many Times had i said fight me in this post?)

|• his Naivete is his weapon. He uses how he seems like an innocent boy as an advantage for a long time. But it kinda shattered during little wolf.

|• Peisisarus was his gay awakening. And Nausicaa was his Bi awakening. Guess what he decided on? Date both. And both decided hell to the yeah

|• when training with Athena, she realized how much and how little he resembled his father.

|• Athena suggested he used a spear, because he seems to be better at is (she meant a sword is too heavy for him!)

|• remember his Athena cosplay during Odysseus? Yeah. Thats a magical girl transformation and his "diplomatic mission" was him meeting Peisisarus and Nausicaa and also his magical girl training arc/hj

|• Telemachus never needed "the talk". Listening to whatever drunken blabbers the suitors had gave him understanding. From that he hated sex and shit. But he got the talk anyways

|• During his time with the suitors, he was almost taken advantage of. But he was lucky enough to escape.

|• also in that time period, watching those men get drunk gives him a hatred to any type of alcohol. He refuses to take more than half a cup of wine.

|• Telemachus tries, he really does. But nightmares always comes and he just feels the need to guard his mother's Doors again. And when he Heard noises from inside, he goes batshit and feels anxiety, sadness, and dissapointment in himself. Until Odysseus walks out hearing him and gives him hugs

[aries-of-spades]

Artists syle challenge lol

yeah, basically I wanted to try and draw my persona in other artists' styles because A) it's fun, and B) it might help me with my own style, y'know?

so I did 4 for now

@cherrifire's style: this was actually the reason I had this idea, I really wnated to do this style. It was actually really fun and relaxing to do the lineart and coloring, and I think it came out really cute.

@millastaria's style: today's mini fella is... me! ✨🍄 I really loved their mini fellas, so that's the version of their style I did. Again, cutesy cartoon styles are really fun, and I love how expressive you can make a character with no mouth.

@doctorsiren's style: this one was a bit more of a challenge than the first two, probably because it's less cartoon/chibi, and also a very different style of shading. But it was fun to mess around with and drawing different head shapes than I'm used to.

@kitsuneisi's style: aka, the only one i had to use a pose reference for XD I wanted it to look more dynamic, because of the DDAU comic, which was what I was thinking of a lot while drawing this. The lineart is less clean than in the others, and the proportions more life-like.

I'll likely do more of these in the future, but this is what I have for now.

[helluvagirlboss]

Love the discussions around this, and I wanted to weigh in.

The other thing to note about Octavia’s upbringing is that while it’s true she was showered with constant love and affection…she seemed to have gotten that love and affection from Stolas exclusively.

All her best memories are with him, and only him, and maybe the occasional moment with her mom. Octavia has no friends and no close family relationships with anyone else but Stolas.

Just as much as Octavia was Stolas’s whole world before Blitz came along, Stolas was also Octavia’s whole world. Then Blitz came along and that world imploded.

From what I can gather, Stolas and Octavia leaned on each other to an unhealthy degree due to their shit situation, and when you’ve been stuck in such a situation like that you’re whole life, someone trying to break out of will feel like a betrayal.

So to Octavia, a parent finding an identity outside of being a parent and disentangling himself from her is going to wreck her because to her, they were in this together and now he wants to leave her behind to deal with it alone.

Stolas’s biggest fault with Octavia is not communicating with her what was actually happening and not trusting her with the truth. He left her in the dark to draw the wrong conclusions because he thought he was protecting her.

But Octavia is almost 18, she can handle the truth, and has probably been able to handle the truth for longer than Stolas gave her credit for.

What she couldn’t handle was another lie and another broken promise, and through her eyes, Stolas broke that promise three times already and she won’t give him the chance to do it again.

So what does a sheltered teenager who has been seemingly been betrayed by the only person who ever loved her and has never learned how to see beyond her own hurt?

She self-destructs. She burns that bridge with her dad before he can do it himself (how very Blitz of you, Via).

While that scene was an incredibly sad moment for Stolas, and I feel for him greatly…I am actually way more worried for Octavia.

Because as shitty of a situation Stolas is in right now, he has a community with Blitz, with Loona, and then with Millie and Moxxie.

Octavia has no one. She has frozen herself out of his life and is trapped in a palace with an abusive mother and an equally terrible uncle, both of whom have the power to subject her to everything Stolas had tried to shield her from.

Octavia is most likely going to be thrown right into the fire next season and I hope more people can understand and feel for what is going to be a really shitty time for this girl.

Maybe this is obvious, but I feel like it's important to remember that Via is just as sheltered as Stolas has been, with regard to the outside world.

Like, it's very clear from Sinsmas that Stolas had no idea how non-royals live. If you asked him before Mastermind, I doubt he could have envisioned a life for himself outside of the palace walls.

So of course Via is having trouble envisioning herself in Stolas’s life now! She doesn't know how incredibly inhospitable Stolas’s existence in the palace was, and she doesn't understand that his only chance to truly live is outside those confines.

The palace is all she's ever known; to her, that is life, and Stolas removing himself from that sphere is synonymous with leaving her behind. Unlike Blitz, she simply can't fathom a life that looks so, so different from what she's always had.

Stolas did his utmost to provide her with stability throughout her childhood, even at the cost of his happiness and her understanding. Of course she feels like her whole world is crumbling right now, and all she can see is that Stolas, who had been that pillar of stability for her for so long, has let go.

I'm not saying Stolas never did anything wrong, or that Via’s feelings are unjustified. They're both in such difficult, painful positions right now and will have to work hard to understand each other, and that is such an exciting thing to look forward to in the rest of the show

[omagpies]

No way! Another person who has spent way too much time on apex! Who's your main? I'm guessing BH but I don't want to assume. How did you feel about the BH/Fuse engagement? Do you have any heirlooms? Sorry, not very many people play apex on here.

Also, do you have any apex art? If not that's totally cool but I would love to see it!

you have activated my trap card!! many drawings ahead

my main is indeed bloodhound. i also whip out fuse, mirage, and to a lesser degree octane, but mostly i'm a one trick bloodhound. they were what got me into the game in the first place back in season 7 when i heard their 'i'm afraid of heights :(' voicelines (a cool hunter nonbinary character voiced by none other than allegra clark? sign me tf up), and even though i am Very Bad At Shooting and don't actually like battle royale-type games apex stayed my brainrot for over two years. the brainrot is definitely over now and these days i play it as a social thing, but that's how i acquired 2k+ hours lmao

also they released a magpiehound recolor called 'frosthaven' that i gleefully snatched up and have been wearing it ever since (ft the magpie holospray and the magpie mural on their latest map. i think they are catering to me specifically)

i am. truly Not Good. i am here just to clown and gossip and make poor life choices. my impulse control is too non existent for someone whose best skill is shooting a perfect outline around the enemy and not a bullet within

i had SO MUCH bloodhound art over on twitter good god. out of the following two drawings, the first one was bought out by allegra to sell as signed prints, and the second one was reposted onto apex's IG account, and in general this was the one time i genuinely had a blast on twitter interacting with all the devs and vas before everything went downhill both in respawn and on twitter lol. also i have to say, s10 and the whole White Raven thing fed me so. so so. SO well. the existential angst was incredible.

i participated in a couple of zines/projects as well! i have many thoughts about their canonical(!) respawn system and the resulting unimportance of death. adds to the existentialism and to bloodhound's religious themes

overall it was a very, very prolific period for me, and there are many pieces i'm still very happy with to this day

(^ the second to last one is a reference to the fusehound confession scene, and the last one is related to one of my fics, wooden bones (forest deity!bh au))

shipping!!! miragehound was my initial and most prominent ship, and i will never forgive respawn for not expanding on their backstory (their mothers worked together COME ON. they might have met as children! COME ON!!!!! i have a whole series exactly about the What Could Have Been)

their backstory with boone also fascinated me for a very long time, and my friends and i spent many a yap session dissing the dude until we stopped and thought, hey, what if he really was Just Some Guy who made mistakes, what if he wasn't evil, and that's what pulled me right back into the brainrot when i was already starting to slowly recover from it. boone now has a very elaborate backstory and lore and i hope to god respawn never puts him in the games the way we did because a) they don't GET him and b) i don't trust the fandom with him lmao. i'm super down to blabber about him though just say the word. he's everything to me, my big, sad, hairy man

we also invented in-game stuff for him. he had abilities and skins etc etc (the top row of skins is his titan pilot backstory + talos era + 'default' in-game skin)

this diptych still lives rent-free in my head, i think i really won with this one

where miragehound and boonehound flourished, mirageboonehound wasn't far behind! i wrote how it came to be and all. also Рorn. so much Рorn. seriously.

also this was the first time i redrew the twelfth night as my otp. the second one was mouthwashing

fusehound was an absolute delight to watch blossom, especially since we know it wasn't planned and just Kind Of Happened. i felt that lmao. characters be like that. i'm a bit sadge they shelved the whole talos plotline in favor of romance but at this point i gave up on expecting good lore from apex, especially after they fired herr frozenfroh. i didn't draw fusehound nearly as much, BUT i do have one fic that was basically a dream i had lol

honorable mention goes to revhound!! this is the ship that went really hard with artists and writers. deeply painful, deeply compelling, absolutely incredible. mindblowing angst and just as mindblowing рorn, together or separately. best shit. the one ship i didn't write for because compared to the fandom's behemoths i never felt like i'd be able to contribute anything meaningful lol, i just got to sit back and enjoy

bonus: as one of my friends eloquently put it, bh and their bhitches :)

i was going to put in more pictures but hit the 30 images limit!!! my twitter is now abandoned but if you scroll down just a little you can see all the stuff that didn't make it into this post.

apex and bloodhound also REALLY, REALLY got me writing. i came into the fandom already relatively warmed up after a 170k fire emblem fic, but i ended up writing 200k+ for miragehound, mirageboonehound, and fusehound combined. i was unstoppable. it was insane. i've linked some already but you can peep them all here. bloodhound's pov was especially fun to write for, purple prose my beloved

also you asked me about heirlooms! i'm a lucky motherfucker who managed to get one set of shards from the 500th box and another from just the random 0.4% chance. so i have bloodhound's and fuse's as they are my most played characters :)

[lyricwritesprose]

Me versus a fanfic idea, trying to cohere

Having been watching some of "My Adventures With Superman" lately, and I have become kind of obsessed with a crack idea that came to me last night at fuck o'clock in the morning, that being: what if (in the MAWS continuity or any one in which the Kents are both alive) Jonathan and Martha got roped into briefly housing or fostering a teen after Clark was out on his own?

I mean. Like. Imagine you're this kid. You are staying with the most tragically uncool individuals on this planet, but they're honestly nice, they aren't bothered by all the stuff that got you labeled A Troubled Youth or the gender stuff you may have going on or any of that, they just seem fundamentally Able To Roll With It, and, okay, this is going to be fine. It's temporary anyway. Just keep out of trouble.

And they have an adult son who comes around sometimes? He's kind of nice too. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, he's built like a moose and you'd think he'd be imposing but he's kind of shy and awkward and somehow just fundamentally Not Like the people who beat you up before, so you're pretty chill with him. He knows all the good places on the farm to sit and think, or sit and draw. One time when he comes around he shows you the creek and you learn all about the frogs and the crawdads and the snakes. Tells you about the corn snake he rescued once. Stuff like that.

Only some things really don't add up.

Like, there's never a car in the driveway when he shows up. And it's not on weekends or anything like that, it's weird times.

And there's a note on the fridge that says, "If you drink all the milk please replace it THIS MEANS YOU," and before long you figure out it's gotta be meant for him, because he will take a gallon and finish it a glass at a time and who can even do that without throwing up? Wasn't there some kind of ghastly TikTok challenge about that?

And when you joked to his Dad and Mom that he seems to have a real superpower for figuring out whether there is going to be pie, you got such weird, almost nervous looks that you quickly dropped the subject.

And one time you swear he appeared out of absolutely nowhere to walk you back to the house because Mr. Peterson's bull broke the fence and is wandering this way. (He was the first one to realize this. How did he realize this? He's sort of guiltily evasive on the subject.)

And he reassures you one time that you don't actually need to fear the Kansas Mothman because he accidentally started that legend. How? He really doesn't want to talk about it.

What with one thing and another, you start wondering…

Maybe he's a ghost.

Maybe something awful happened and he can't move on. You don't want to suspect the Kents, they are honestly pretty top-notch for parental types (especially after some of the ones you've known) but other people in the town? You know personally how ghastly a small town can be to That Weird Kid. Maybe something really bad happened.

(Maybe it could happen to you too.)

So you've got to figure out what's going on so you can get justice for your friend. You start to investigate. Smallville does have rather more than its fair share of Weird Shit—like possibly a lot more—but you're not really getting anywhere. And it occurs to you that you don't really have the wherewithal to go and try to find—well, let's not put too fine a point on it, to find an unmarked grave—that could be anywhere.

Meanwhile the world has at this point in time started to see some Seriously Weird Shit, although at this point it's largely In Other Places because that's where everything in the world happens, there is absolutely Nothing Significant In Kansas and probably never will be, but it gives you an idea. Slightly insane and scary idea, but you've hit so many dead ends that it might be worth it.

You're going to try to contact Superman and see if he can use his rumored X-ray vision to figure out what happened to Clark.

…

Just to be clear, I have no idea what the ultimate punchline is for this piece of ridiculous meandering is, and it's the sort of thing that does require a pretty good punchline. So I don't know if it's ever actually going to get written. On the other hand, it is one of my favorite dishes, which is Canon Characters Helping Queer Kid, with a heavy helping of Following Logic-like Structures To Wrong Conclusions sauce.

So I thought I might post the idea, because I have this lovely optimistic belief that sometimes, I am in fact extremely funny, and tumblr is a place that often eggs me on.

[milder-manners]

Okay, so, I'm wondering...

Would cc!DTeam tell them?

About how in our world they are more than just their counterparts, but also characters in a story made by those counterparts?

Like, you said that the c!'s are definitely going to hear about some of the Drama and Techno's death and such from our world, but all of that is pretty easy to do without actually giving them enough context for them to find out.

So, will they?

Because I feel that if the cc!'s did, they'd be in far more trouble than if they didn't with the c!'s.

Like, a LOT of trouble. The c!'s really like to take blame off themselves.

Also, I feel like this would give c!Dream a mega panic attack.

Like, the others would too, but I feel like it'll be more intense for c!Dream more than anyone.

Also, I saw the skit you wrote for the last ask you posted, as well as what you said about c!George's initial thoughts on cc!Dream, and so I'm just also wondering how the c!'s would react to finding out cc!Dream not only played as c!Dream, but also c!DreamXD. :)

See, cc!Dteam would've initially worried that the events that took place in this world was, in fact, their fault from the roleplay.

But, then they learn that things, are different here. Dream SMP in the real world ended over two years, yet the nuke never went off in this one nor the reset. c!Tommy and c!Tubbo never confronted c!Dream in Pandora to set off those events, and additionally c!Techno managed to coax c!Dream out of the prison. Hell, c!Ranboo is alive.

Also, apparently there are more people living in far off lands? Like, actual civilization and cities? Hundreds of thousands of more souls, and centuries of history? (c!Phil told them about this.)

This was a living breathing world that existed way before the events of Dream SMP. Not to mention the people themselves making their own decisions and choices with their lives.

The conclusion to draw from this was that the roleplay had no control over these people. c!Dream leaving Pandora's Vault is proof that they're fully capable of carving their own path, separate from the story.

So cc!Dteam tells the Syndicate and c!Dream of the roleplay in their world. Yeah no, there's a lot of initial outrage, especially from c!Dream, but cc!Dream argues heavily of their own agencies. He points out everything mentioned before as proof. Who's to say that the events in this world were actually the ones to affect the ccs world? That all the choices c!s made dictated how the the roleplay happened. One of them is a story being played out after all, a mimicry of real events.

C!Dream was the hardest to convince but he eventually came around to agree along with the Syndicate.

Oh but cc!Dream is absolutely not telling c!George, C!Punz, and c!Sapnap while being held hostage. He is not that stupid.

[acourtofthought]

Something I’m really looking forward to in the Elucien book is the cat and mouse game that they will have.

I’m trying to remember when specifically, but it was either a conversation between Nesta and Feyre or Nesta’s inner monologue, but she referred to Elaine being almost ruthless when it came to the balls and courting men. She knew how to play the game and that’s how she got Graysen.

So her shy behavior in NC tells me she isn’t being her authentic self. I need Lucien to be his snarky/rake B1 self. Charm the women, completely ignore his mate and set the trap.

I need the Feyre and Rhys jealousy in summer court for an entire book for Elucien. Let the games begin.

So it's actually Elain telling the story of how Nesta knew how to play the game, that she knew how to dress the part and learned about the Duke's behavior of growing bored of anyone that chased him so she ignored him in order to lure him into asking her for a dance. However, I think there are other clues that Sarah set up in SF that hint at Elain and Lucien playing a bit of a cat and mouse game. First, we have Feyre and Rhys mention how there is probably more to Elain than anyone realizes. That maybe her behavior is a result of worrying she'll disappoint her sisters if she doesn't behave in the way that she feels they expect her to behave in. There's also the mention of her being good at secret keeping, we have her volunteering to help the court, and in FAS we have Feyre note her wisdom that has nothing to do with her Seer abilities. In SF we also have Mor mention how it's possible that any information Lucien gives them could be skewed because of his friendship with Vassa and Jurian. Not that I think Lucien would do that however if it's something the NC is now thinking and they're currently relying on Lucien as the one person to give them reports on both Spring and the human lands, it does create a possible reason for them to send "a spy" to check up on the information he's providing. And what better person to do it than his own mate under the guise of wanting to get to know him? To me, there's a reason Sarah added Elain's scent being a promise of Spring, that the Spring Court had been made for someone like Elain, that Nesta would have told Elain to visit the Spring Court if they were talking. Add that into our knowledge that Lucien is now permanently stationed there, that the NC said they need the Spring Court as an ally and that they need it's armed forces but they're worried that Tamlin isn't getting better and it sets the stage for what could be coming. But of course Lucien would be suspicious of Elain suddenly, after a year and a half, wanting to get to know him so while she is playing him for information, he remains on guard as to what she's really doing in Spring. I really would love this sort of setup for them because as you mentioned above, it would draw out Lucien's snarky self which would then set up the sassy side of Elain we've only had a few glimpses of so far. We know how much Lucien longs for Elain but that cat and mouse scenario would make it so that he never feels fully convinced that she's actually there to get to know him and that means we wouldn't see Lucien just being a simp for the first part of their book, he'd be too preoccupied with her possible ulterior motives to let himself believe that a relationship between them is a real possibility.

[hrizantemy]

If you don't mind, could you share some of your thought process on creating Taryn as a character and your favorite aspects of writing her so far? (Can you also give a physical description? I would like to draw her and nesta together and Ive been imagining her as cruel princes' Taryn; which is a little funny to think about)

This is so sweet—and so funny! I’ve read the first Cruel Prince book but didn’t even make the connection to Taryn from that series! That’s hilarious and kind of fitting in its own way, but yes, let me give you more details!

So, Taryn as a character actually came about unexpectedly. She wasn’t someone I initially planned to write; it was going to be just Nesta on her own, focusing on her healing journey. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Nesta has never really had someone wholly in her corner—a person who supports her without judgment or an agenda. That gap in her life is what inspired Taryn’s creation.

I wanted someone who could stand alongside Nesta, not to “fix” her, but to offer her unconditional support and the space to be herself. Taryn’s character grew from that idea, and I started with her name, which has so many layered meanings.

• In Irish and Gaelic, it’s tied to “the land of Eoghan” or “people’s ruler,” which felt fitting for someone who would hold her own and guide by example rather than force.

• The connection to rivers and flooding, as in “the trespasser,” reminded me of someone who defies expectations and carves out a path that may disrupt, but ultimately creates growth.

• Then there’s the Latin meaning tied to “earth” or an “elevated place,” which gave her a grounded, steady quality.

One of my favorite aspects of writing Taryn so far is how she knows when to step back and respect Nesta’s autonomy. A perfect example of this is during the Solstice and Nesta’s interactions with the IC—Taryn doesn’t try to insert herself or take over. Instead, she lets Nesta handle things in her own way, at her own pace, without any interference. That respect for boundaries is a cornerstone of who Taryn is, and it’s a deliberate contrast to how other characters have behaved.

For instance, take Rhysand. Even when Feyre explicitly tells him to leave her relationship with Nesta alone, he still tries to control it, inserting his own ideas of what should happen. Or Cassian, who has a pattern of badgering Nesta, pushing her even when it’s clear she’s uncomfortable or not ready to engage with him on his terms. These moments can feel suffocating for Nesta, and I wanted Taryn to be the opposite of that.

Taryn highlights what it truly means to give someone the space to heal and make their own choices. She supports Nesta without demanding anything in return. There’s no pressure to act a certain way, no need to meet someone else’s expectations or timelines. If Nesta decides to set boundaries or push back, Taryn respects that instead of trying to guilt or force her into compliance.

I think that dynamic is so important for Nesta because it offers her something she’s never really had: a connection where she feels safe to be herself without fear of judgment or consequence. And, more than that, it allows her to grow on her own terms. Taryn is there to back her up when needed, but she also knows when to step back and let Nesta lead.

It’s a refreshing contrast to the characters who think they’re helping but end up reinforcing unhealthy patterns instead. Writing Taryn as someone who embodies that quiet, unwavering support has been incredibly rewarding.

Now, onto Taryn’s physical description! She has dark hair—by dark, I mean black—and striking green eyes that stand out against her complexion. Her features are sharp, with high cheekbones.

Taryn’s complexion is on the darker side, with warm, rich undertones that speak to her heritage. Her skin carries a sun-kissed glow, as if she’s spent a significant amount of time under a different sun than Velaris or even the Night Court could provide. It’s a deeper shade, almost like burnished bronze, with a natural radiance that contrasts beautifully against her black hair and sharp features. I’ve hinted at it before, but Taryn isn’t from Velaris or the Night Court.

Taryn typically wears dresses that balance simplicity, emphasizing her. She prefers flowing silhouettes that allow her to move with ease, often crafted from rich fabrics like velvet, silk, or fine linen. Her dresses are usually in deep, earthy tones such as forest green, burnt orange, midnight blue, or warm gold, complementing her complexion and hair.

The designs of her dresses are practical yet stylish—long sleeves for cooler weather or sleeveless options for warmer climates, always tailored to fit her perfectly. High necklines and subtle embroidery along the hems or cuffs add an air of refinement, while the occasional slit in the skirt gives her freedom of movement without being overly revealing.

I think I’ve covered all your questions, but feel free to let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to know or dive deeper into! I’ve enjoyed answering these and exploring Taryn and Nesta’s dynamic—it’s always exciting to share more about their story and development. So if there’s anything you’re curious about, don’t hesitate to ask!

[cosmicsodaz]

[coern-art-very-cool-and-nice]

sekai au 👊😔

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

i realized they had the same birthday (dec 21st) so i was like "yoooo i should draw them together"

silly bonus:

[keeps-ache]

standing here in my star-patterned bathrobe holding a stylus while inscribing something onto my computer. it's wizard time baby

[somelazyassartist]

Ough I need to avoid my TAZ shelf when I'm tired, because reminding myself that The Adventure Zine and the graphic novels are right next to each other and how painful some of the differences between them are legitimately gives me a migraine. That and my eyes are weird so looking at comics for too long just does that anyways but I digress

[waywardsalt]

sitting huddled in my little writers hut trying to piece together what kinds of effects i want bellum’s possession to have on linebeck

[fictionismyreality3]

your fics are so yummehh. can i request ex to enemies to lovers with ghost pretty please?

Fuck you? Fuck Me! 18+

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, oh god.. it’s smut with feelings 😩mentions of cheating 😡😡

Notes: I’m actually so sorry this took so long I’m a lazy bitch 😀

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you, Simon."

Slamming the door behind you and stomping down the hall of Simon's apartment building, you bit back the tears, ignoring the looks from the doorman you'd made friends with after many late nights of Simon coaxing you into his bed

That was two years ago now.

You'd moved on, really you had. It had taken probably around 100 shots of vodka during the first few months, the sour, offending taste forcing you to focus on the burn in your throat rather than the burn in your chest. A shitty bullet vibrator, sitting offendingly in your beside drawer, the hot pink piece of plastic and motorized pleasure offering you partial relief when you missed the feeling of your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend— splitting you open on his cock.

You'd gotten over Simon, filling your days with friends, family, the dead-end receptionist job where the coffee was stale and the small-talk was frightning. The pit he left in your chest was stuffed with whatever you could find, and slowly, after many sleepless nights, you forgot it was there at all.

Slamming back the strawberry daiquiri, you let the liquid warm your throat, the sugary-sweet taste making your toes curl and your lips draw into a cheshire like grin. The music was pounding in your ears, and you were sure your head would be ringing when you stumbled your way out onto the pavement.

"Y'still drink those?"

Heart stuttering in your chest, the air suddenly buzzing with a familiar presence you recognized so well.

“Simon.” Short, curt, you offered little to the man who had taken so much of you.

When he’d left you to fend for yourself on so many quiet nights, the flat empty as he went and fought in some country that wasn’t his, there was no worry in his mind about having something to come home to.

You could handle it. You told him you could handle it.

Eyes hardened by violence, hands toughened by the hours of holding a gun and not another person. He didn’t notice. You were always there. Ready to greet him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Y’look different, luv. I.. Y’look good.” Tartness filled his mouth, his bottom lip between his teeth where it was hidden underneath his mask.

Simon didn’t know how to take care of his things, much less his girl. One night at the bar turned to to two, and his returns got later and later in the wee hours of the morning. He shouldn’t have been shocked enough to feel his stomach churn when you suggested that he was cheating on you.

But that was two years ago.

A mirthless laugh sounded from your lips. “I’m not doing this.”

Fuckin’ stubborn thing.

The crowd of the club parted as Simon stalked after you, a looming figure of anger and bitter frustration that sent lesser men scurrying in the other direction. It was a wonder the door didn’t fly off the hinges when he followed you outside. But, Simon could be careful. He could be patient. Even if the only thing he wanted to do was push you up against the alley wall and-

“Could you just leave me alone?” That was more pathetic sounding that you’d wanted, your face screwing up in displeasure at the way your voice came out warbled.

A frown pulled at his lips, hidden underneath the fabric of his black surgical mask.

“Didn’t cheat on ya, luvie.”

He just had to touch you. If he could just touch you, fuck, even get you to look at him, you would see. He would make you see. But you were all teeth, hissing and snapping at him when he tried to reach out and grab at your wrist— keep fighting, puppy— shying away from his touch like it burnt you.

“Could y’just calm down?” Shackled, arms pinned at your side, he kept you in place. “I’d never fuckin’ look a’ another bird, yeah?”

He nearly bit his tongue off when your gaze fell to the ground again, looking all dejected like a kitten abandoned out on the curb. He had left you alone too long, hadn’t he?

“Simon, I’m not-” You hated how easy it was to let your neck go lax, to let him guide your vision upwards until there was nothing in your sight but him.

Yeah, that’s it. Stop fightin’ so hard. “God, dove, look at ya.” He cooed, relishing in the way your pretty doe eyes stared up at him hesitantly, like you were waiting for him to bite. “How could I cheat on a pretty thing like you, huh?”

No, no god, it was so easy for him to get his hooks in you again, rough hands touching your skin like his palms could reach in and cradle your heart.

“Two years, Simon. Two years.” You hissed. “God, you were never around.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But I-”

“No!” Twisting your wrists out of his grip, you launched your attack, fists hitting against a chest that didn’t bow under the weight of your fury. “You were never around! Never gave me a second of your time even when you were there!”

People were staring now, hushed whispers swarming around you in a torrent. A spectacle of a girl barking up at a man twice her size. Some lady stumbling by offered her own intoxicated words of encouragement— get him, gurl!

Simon let you get it all out. He deserved it, really. He didn’t fight as you pounded your fists down on his chest, beating your anger over his heart. You were talking, hell, you were touching him, and that was more than he’d expected given how he’d driven you away. Darker eyes stared down at your flushed cheeks, rosy from the alcohol and the anger.

“You didn’t want me. You d-didn’t give a shit and you know it!”

But his heart clenched when his saw the tears flowing down them, moving more than it had in two years.

What was that thing Price told him?

You don’t take care of your things, Simon, they’re gonna break eventually.

That’s what it was, the heaviness in your eyes, the way your voice seemed hollow even as you screamed loud enough for the next street over to hear. It clawed at him, guilt twisting deeper and deeper with every curse you threw. This wasn’t the girl he drove away. But then again, he wasn’t the same man, purposely blind to anything good around him.

Simon had tried to replace you at first. Hours spent at the range, hours spent sparring and earning new scars, his knuckles cracked from over use. Time should’ve fixed it, but even as he gave the punching bags a break the blood on his hands didn’t stop. A scab he couldn’t stop picking at, the sting of his self-injury the only thing he could do to remind him that his bed wasn’t empty once.

“I never meant ta hurt ya, luv.” His own regret was threatening to spill over his waterline. “Should’a taken better care o’ya, yeah?” You shook your head vehemently at his coos, as if you could will everything that was happening to disappear.

“Could never leave ya, pretty girl.” In any other moment, Simon would’ve been appalled at the teary tone to his voice, but right now he was more concerned with how the love of his life had gone quiet, eyes glued to the pavement.

“I love ya, sweetheart.”

If you would just look at him to see how he meant it. Just look at him, dovie, just look.

“M’in love with ya. Could never ‘ave anyone else.” He was pleading now, just about ready to get down on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk. “Didn’t know how to.. to show it, yeah? Never done this before. Never loved anyone before.”

“Simon, if you’re lying to me..” You began, breath hitching when he took your eye contact as invitation you hold your face in his hands.

There she is.

“Never.” He swore fiercely. “Never cheated on ya, baby. Haven’t touched a girl since y’left.”

The confession made you falter. The Simon shaped hole in your chest searing with need. The desperation in his eyes, it didn’t even compare to how you felt, and you realized that everything you filled it with was only temporary. You needed permanence. You needed Simon.

It didn’t matter how you fell back into bed with him, stumbling through his apartment while he pawed all over you, keeping a hand on you like he was afraid you’d disappear. In the few seconds you had before he corralled you into his bedroom, you got a chance to see how little he’d changed. The apartment was bare, the spaces on the shelves where your things once sat had been left empty, like some sort of twisted altar he was afraid to fill.

You’d missed him. And he knew it.

There was no time wasted in the moments it took Simon to get you bare, his own clothes discarded in a pathetically short amount of time before his was diving into your pussy.

“S-Simon!”

He couldn’t slow down. After so many nights spent fucking into his own hand, the pair of panties he’d secretly kept pressed to his nose, he needed the real thing.

Like a man starved, he lapped at your cunt, the flat of his tongue lapping against your clit in just the way you liked— because of course he remembered— getting you to soak his face. The taste of you made his eyes flutter shut and groan obscenely into your pussy, the vibration making your thighs start to close.

Digging his fingers into your soft flesh, he parted your legs open so he could get nose deep, trying to bury himself in you. The slick seemed to drip out of you, making it easy to curl two of his fingers into your leaking cunt. The sudden intrusion had you keening, blindly reaching out to grasp at Simon’s hair. It had been so long since someone touched you right.

“S’that how ya need it, mama?” He crooned, voice garbled as he swirled his tongue in fast circles, your clit pulsing in his mouth. “Didn’t ’ave anyone ta fuck her like she needs, huh?” The taunt held no real heat as he curved his fingers inside of you, searching for that spot that got you to make the most delicious noises.

“Uh-huh!” You could almost feel the way he was grinning into your cunt. “Needed you, Si.”

Humming in approval, Simon pumped his fingers in you with a speed you had tried, and failed, to replicate alone in your bed late at night. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to start bubbling to an overwhelming point, leaving you teetering on the edge, like a pot left unattended on a stove.

Sucking hard on your clit was all it took, and suddenly you were gushing all over Simon’s face, back arching with a broken cry. He took it all, lapping it up like it was the sweetest nectar all while crooning praises at you, making your head fuzzy.

There was a sense of urgency in the sex-scented air, his once steady hands shaking as he sat up on his heels, eyes half lidded and drunk with desire.

“You can touch me, Simon.”

Parched, he licked his lips, savouring the taste of you lingering on his tongue while he lined his heavy cock up to your pussy. He could’ve cum just by running his head up and down your folds, but he resisted the temptation.

He had to take care of his girl first.

The stretch was intense, your body trying to cope with acclimating to the girth of Simon after having so many lovers who couldn’t give you what you needed. Your limbs tensed, hands threading themselves into Simon’s hair, trying to pull him closer, closer.

“Just relax, sweethear’. You can- fuck, you can take me.” His hips met yours and he slotted himself where he should’ve been this whole time. Home. Your body cradling him exactly how it was supposed to. “Just need someone ta fuck ya proper, huh?”

He was dangerously close to coming, rutting into you with uneven, eager strokes that left you gasping, heels digging into his ass as you wrapped your legs around him. You were no better, eyes rolling back in your head every time the head of his throbbing cock kissed your cervix, little punched out moans being torn from your throat.

“M’sorry-”

He managed a garbled moan. “Shh, none o’ that, ya hear me?” You were so good, apologizing for the mess he’d made.

Barely hanging on by a thread, Simon rested his forehead on yours.

“Love of my life, dovie.” His hands were brushing the hair out of your face, and the sheer reverence in his eyes knocked the wind out of you. Mewling, you kissed messily at his jaw, hungry, trying to show him how much you felt for him when you were too fucked out to talk.

“Si-” Heat seared in your belly. “M’gonna- oh, god, m’cumming, I-”

Toes curling, you watched the world explode from behind your eyelids, barely registering the choked words Simon was babbling in your ear as he spilled himself inside you with a drawn out groan.

“I love ya. Love ya, love ya, love ya.”

In the quiet of his bedroom, both of you panting and emotionally spent, you knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

“I love you too.”