#I drew them by memory so I might get their design wrong

[lukochi]

The juice bar regular & dark choco

[vaultlinkvt]

This is the first proper thing I've drawn in ages (and first are I think I've posted in over 5 years?) I just needed to draw the opening to Act 5 and my reaction to it.

Nothing has gripped me in such a way and forced me to finish an art piece like this in so fucking long. I see far too much of myself in him. I just want them to be ok after this is all over. STARS, this is just Asriel all over again isn't it. But WORSE!/pos

…I guess that could make this vent adjacent? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I also made a shitpost edit that I posted separately here.

There are so many things covered by each other and I just need to share and talk about them. Bonus details and rambles under the cut.

Siffrin's expression was like the first thing I drew and if it didn't turn out as good as it did I probably wouldn't have spent almost 10 days slowly adding to this and I just need to show it because his hands/arms end up covering most of their face.

Nothing much else to say about him, I'm just super happy with how everything about him turned out (I did have to go back and redraw some of his hair towards the end because the line thickness wasn't consistent with everything I drew after.

Next is ME yippeeeee. I have no idea why I spent so long adding details even tho I knew alot of it would get covered by Sif 'cause of how I was posing this.

I even designed a little button based on the Change Ornament + Star (the Change Belief and Lost Belief in The Universe really spoke to me in so many ways)

The gloves are an Archery Glove on the right hand and a Drawing/Writing Glove on the left.

The cloak is based on the style of cloak my mom made for my family for SCA events when I was young. It's just a simple hooded cloak but it has a slit in each side so you can stick your hands threw without needing to open up the cloak. I imagine it being stylized like, the opening doesn't exist until you stick your hands threw and then it can just freely glide around the face of the cloak to wherever it's needed, stopping at the elbow only letting threw the forearm, below the slit beginning to hang off the elbow with gravity while the part above begins to move with the upper arm.

I didn't even try to draw the outfit under the cloak because dealing with the folds of a thick wool cloak was enough for me (you can see how I gave up at the knees because I KNEW Sif was gonna cover them up). What I imagine the outfit being is this big baggy tunic and pants that are tied down at the forearms/calves to keep from getting in the way, it's also supposed to have a big baggy turtleneck thing that can be pulled up as a(nother) hood (iirc, this sorta thing was used so someone could wear a chainmail hood without it grabbing your hair(there ware also like stand alone cloth hoods that did the same thing too but eh, my memory is bad I might just be misremembering this)) but I couldn't figure out the folds and ended up just doing a simple button up thing (which then got covered by Sif's big head anyway.)

I spent soooo long trying to draw my eyes, trying to figure out the shape, and ended up just doing a bunch of small tests to the side before finding one that actually looked right. Drag it over the face and see that it fit EXACTLY, didn't even need to redraw it or anything.... unless you're talking about the other eye in which case I just duplicated it, flipped, and did some perspective warping until it looked ok because I could NOT draw that again especially at a different perspective (can I just say I have no idea how I drew that creepy eye but I love it, it was the first eye I drew and I just threw 4 lines down what the fuck how. Also the Mira-ish one looks cute too but didn't fit the expression.) I also needed to figure out what the hell was wrong with the expression I had before so you get 2 faces from me figuring that out (turns out I had the eyebrows facing the wrong way.)

I ALMOST FUCKING FORGOT MY FRECKLES TOO AAAAAAAAA (they're actually missing from the version I posted in the official ISaT server.) It was super weird trying to add them at the obscenely low resolution I was drawing at and they're probably gonna get compressed to hell and back but I think they're cute.

final thing.

Why is my hair so similar to Sif's but longer? Like, you can see I was sketching over my drawing of him to make sure I'd keep the proportions right when I started working on myself but in the process I realized that I was basically drawing over his hair but longer for mine (drawing I was using as ref here made by @leemak)

Add that to the uncomfortably long list of things I have in common with Siffrin I guess.

[rockybloo]

hello!! (love your art btw it scratches a part of my brain in a good way) apologies if it's already been asked or something else but who are your oldest oc's? I'm just curious

THANK YOU

And I don't think I've really answered this before (or at least not in a good long while) so excuse this essay dump here...

If we are talking "Who out of the lineup you actively use now are the oldest", it'd be my Beanstalked cast. But I never truly get rid of an OC. They all live on forever and occasionally get reinvented into a newer being. So if we are talking about my OLDEST OCs in general, they are actually none of the ones you guys have been seeing me post on this blog frequently.

Before Glitter and Guilt, Bondwidth, Beanstalked, literally EVERYONE you see as part of my main story lineup, I had a entirely different cast of Rockstars.

Off the top of my head, I recall one story being called Mythical Mayhem and the other being called Zodiac Fighterz. Both of which were made during my middle school days (though Zodiac Fighterz might have been near the end of elementary as I recall one of my first days of middle school was me drawing the main character on the whiteboard for class...the memory still haunts me)

Mythical Mayhem was about a friendly demon named Spike (who was basically the Jack of my old OCs: a very good boy who could do no wrong and made friends with everyone) who wanted to become a guardian angel...but as a demon. A guardian demon basically. But he kept running into folks that didn't trust him due to being a demon-so it was basically a never ending journey of him winning people over by being wholesome and collecting pals.

The cast was filled with OCs based off mythical creatures. I had a whole map of the world and regions and flags and EVERYTHING before I just dipped out mentally from it.

Zodiac Fighterz was basically my magical girl series before Glitter and Guilt. It was made when I learned about the 12 Chinese Zodiac animals as a wee kid. The story was about a random group of teens who had been marked with one of the 12 zodiac animals fighting crime under the guidance of a talking cat and having to use their animal abilities to fight against a group of evil cat people and the corrupted animals they'd make using blood magic...let it be known this is what little baby me was writing and drawing after getting home from elementary school.

I do not have the original designs from baby me's times of drawing them as those were literally on paper with colored pencils and are currently buried in my notebooks as, just like with my OCs, I rarely ever throw out my own physical art. That sounds so deep but...it's just bc I live in a constant state of "but what if I need this for reference later".

HOWEVER I do have this 2017 pic I drew of some redesigns for everyone.

Both of these stories are retired but I do plan to recycle some of these characters into my new stories. All my OCs live in the same storyverse so no one is truly gone anyways.

[mars-ipan]

let’s be honest it was only a matter of time before i babygirlified an old man

closeups and (many) design notes under the cut :)

ok design notes time (these r mainly for the narrator bc. well. stanley has an actual physical appearance):

- while thinking of how to design the narrator i got the idea that he took one of the models in the audience for the ending where stanley gives a speech and edited it to make his “human” form

- because of this i wanted to include a bunch of little things that he “got wrong” during the process of mimicking a human. most of them get ironed out when stanley points out how weird they are but some of them stay

- to name a couple, his teeth are all flat- no canines or molars. also his little headset + glasses have nothing that actually attach them to his head. they just Are There. not to mention his interesting fashion sense of tie + turtleneck + blazer (he defends this choice no matter how much stanley laughs at him). he’s just weird enough to be slightly uncanny- it’s an imitation, not the real thing

- since i’m indecisive as hell he’s a bit of a shapeshifter. he actually doesn’t use his physical model in-game a lot and tends to just show up in things. shadows, reflective surfaces, screens, etc. even more often than that he’s just his voice

- bc he plays the guitar in the out of bounds ending i am now convinced that he can play many instruments. that little piano in the memory zone before the first review? yeah he’s there playing that in-game he’s just not visible to you

- designing his hair was SO DIFFICULT i literally went searching thru the tag for inspo and i liked so many different things. after a struggle (you can see a slicked-back attempt in the shadow idea doodle) i eventually decided on the style shown in his main drawing. every time i draw it i fight so hard to make it distinct from miles edgeworth. to make this easier the cowlicks aren’t too pronounced and the larger bang is more of a fringe. it still sometimes looks like miles edgeworth whoops

- some of my favorite fanon design things are the Line™ tie the square glasses and the little gay ass highlight so i knew i had to include them. those were my only definite choices going into this

- once again bc i’m indecisive the narrator can scale his model up or down as he pleases. he prefers to be bigger than stanley but stanley complains that it “makes his proportions weird” because he’s “short-coded” so sometimes he goes to a more human size.

- the narrator being stout just makes sense to me it’s correct in my soul (i actually think i drew him too skinny in most of these. i just didn’t wanna redraw shit bc i am tired but if/when i draw him again he will be less skinny)

- i wanted to work with shape language a lot because the narrator’s whole character is a voice- i wanted to make sure i captured the vibe of some stuffy old writer who has an undeniable silly streak. so he is squares and circles (his tie is the only triangle save for maybe the hair)

- for similar reasons stanley is squares and triangles. felt right

- speaking of stanley his soul patch is a goatee now bc i hate soul patches with a boiling passion. so now it’s a goatee

- i also gave him a little beauty mark by his right eye. i don’t know why i just knew in my heart that it was correct

- stanley uses asl and not bsl because i want to learn asl sososososo bad and this just might be the thing to get me to actually do it. he can project his thoughts to the narrator but he doesn’t like it so he almost always signs

[dreams-of-cerulean]

> You walk over the smoldering remnants of what used to be demons and devils, supposed evils conjured from the Husk’s memory. It was the Husk of a Templar after all. Your Burn Deck made quick work of them; they hadn’t survived past a couple rounds of being ignited.

> The Head Asshole was wrong. You’re a lot stronger now than you were before. Sure, might not be able to fight a dozen Templars who can negate magic just based on the sheer intensity of their Faith, but you wouldn’t have been able to do that with the Dream either.  

> You frown as you look at the fleshy hallways, spotting the same mundane half-absorbed into the wall. You’re pretty sure if his mouth hadn’t been covered in the pink masses, he would’ve been screaming. Same goes for the other mundanes stuck in the ceiling and floor.

> No Sato though. You don’t expect to find her though. She’s likely a Sensitive - probably slowly getting assimilated as you try to find her. 

> Fuck. You hate People Dungeons. The only good thing you’ve learned about this place was that your Faith regeneration has increased absurdly to the point you could freely use Blink here - and that trick you used to not get zapped by Sasha’s lightning bolt a while back, the one derived from < Last Word >, you might be able to use that too. 

> But that’s the only thing that was good here.  

> Screw body horror. And screw non-Euclidian geometry.

> You’ve just been walking straight, and you already passed that same man four times. Clearly, feeling rather than logic was going to win the day here. 

> And you’re really not going to like that. You can already feel the pain mired in the very walls - whatever the Absolute Radiance group did to this Templar, they made sure to break their Psyche in the most painful way possible. It honestly feels like they metaphysically blew this person’s brains out, brains that were now painting the walls. 

> You sigh as you sit cross-legged onto the floor. The sound of the wind slowly hums around you. 

“Keep me safe, Sylph.”

> You take a deep breath and Link to the area around you. 

---

“Still so blind. Your god is dead. He’s not coming to save you.”

“If you’re going to continue ignoring the truth in front of you, perhaps you don’t need your eyes after all.”

----

“Which hand today? Left or right. Don’t got a lot of digits left on your left, so let’s make it right today.”

----

“Not willing to say anything? Well, I guess the Radiance can have your tongue.”

-----

“Such a fool. Everything is the Radiance’s design. The past, the present, the future - all hers. You are just a stepping stone.”

----

> You come out of the Link convulsing. The half-absorbed memories rattle in your head like they were in an echo chamber. The phantom pain of losing limbs and your very self - as they dehumanized and humiliated you - no not you, the Templar whose memories you drew out - burns through your limbs.  

“Fuck.”

> That was a bad idea. And the Templars trying to explore this place was just as equally a bad idea. You could literally feel this person’s Faith collapsing as they were tortured for weeks, hoping that someone would notice their absence.

> But nobody did.

> Couldn’t even kill themselves in the end as they became a human stick. And when their mind finally gave out through the repeated torture, it was a release. The fact you didn’t believe in the Templar god helped you out here, but...the Templars - you wouldn’t want them here. 

> Good. Keep focusing on the present. You can sort out the bullshit later. 

> Focus, Levant. Sato’s depending on you.

> Looks like you burnt a hole into your surroundings. The overgrown flesh is gone, and the mundanes around you are on the floor, knocked out. Your visible surroundings look okay again, but you could feel something wrong higher above.

“412″

> The numbers escape your lips before you can process it. It’s the apartment number of the Templar that died. That’s your destination.

> If you can kill the Husk, you can save Sato. You just need to get there.

> You’re her only chance now.  

[200dayjourneykamo]

Day Four

August 27th, 2024 The giving in

I woke up with the memory of a feeling of a woman cuddling her back very intensely against the front of me, like a male Angler fish attempting to become one with his female of choosing. It was sweet. This dream was one for the books, one for a shaving scene. I had come across a couple of people who had warned me of a Boogey man of sorts that was near and they were covered in make up, ready and determined to deceive the boogey man. I learned that there was only two ways about it; I could come face to face with this Boogey man or I could deceive it. The idea of him catching on to my deceit was enough to know I was amongst the wrong crowd and quickly found my way away from these folk. I knew I must face him. The time came that I was in a room amongst many other people and he arrived, a bald middle aged white man, angrily barged through the open door, shooting his hand guns in the air. Then he pointed his hand guns at 2 or 3 different people and shot them dead where they stood. As he came across other people, he met them with peace and gave them a moment of divine peaceful energy and left them with something at their feet. When he came to me, I was nervous, but he stood at me, all knowing, his arms on my shoulders and for a moment, I felt peace. He carried on swiftly and I looked down. At my feet was a rectangular piece of plastic, the shape and size of a dollar bill. Bulging within the plastic was a design in red gel. It appeared to be the outline of a mountain, which then made a smaller, less jagged mountain within it. I knew immediately that this was the Devil who had come to tell us what would be the death of us. I make mountains out of mole hills.

I found him alone and went to talk to him about it, as he sat there, he was just a man. Approachable, no longer angry. I told him what I thought about my message and asked him if that was what he meant. He asked me what the symbol was and I drew it for him. He said, "ah." I responded by saying, "I can get it for you…" and I darted across the room. When I got back he was dissipating into the air and the message in my hand was nothing but plastic, not enough an outline to guide me.

The messages come in so clear and loud. Then the ego comes back, kindly asking for the wheel back, and we look out the window wondering why those mountains felt so familiar.

I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. There at the trampoline park with my two kids, I had two daquiris over the course of two hours, thinking if I stayed 3 hours that would be plenty of time. As I had often calculated this logic before and it worked plenty well enough in the past. I was hot, I felt out of myself, I felt dizzy, I certainly could have drank more water today, if any… and I, for the first time in my life, thought I might actually be having a heart attack. I breathed deeply and continued to casually chase my kids through the trampoline park. If I died there… what would come of me, my children, my belongings… it was not my time and I didn't believe it was my time, but with Ken Crimmins' death lingering in my heart and the tear soaked cheeks of his wife in my mind, I was certain that life was not promised. Not for Ken, not for Bryan, not for Mumzee, not for my Aunt Tamy, my step dad Boots, my brother Ricky and certainly, not for a 34 year old me. A human on this planet with the same fate as the rest of us. We don't make it out alive.

Later, after watching Damsel, a pleasure to my husband who had been waiting at least a week for me to cave into a movie, I came back into the RV from the house, the baby crying and the two men in a standstill. Both of them staring intensely at one another, unwilling to budge from the hypothetical 3 foot hole they were both standing in. Eventually Banjo apologized to a silent Jethro and climbed out of the hole he helped dig and disappeared for what felt like an hour. Jethro finally popped his head out from his bed space that lay under ours and I casually, sweetly and calmly told him that one day he would understand that the possession of material items will one day no longer be a concern and that his relationship with his little sister will be the biggest treasure of them all. That "his" necklace around her neck will be something he loves… that I strive to have much less and look forward to just that, because it is all so much a burden now. One day that necklace might belong to someone because we have all left this world, we can only hope that we lived our lives fully, instead of fighting over such things as these possessions. He stared like a deer in headlights. For the first time I didn't judge. I didn't assume I knew what he was thinking. I didn't feel as though he wasn't listening or doing something wrong. I noticed he was still in his day clothes and I didn't tell him to get out of them before going to sleep. I just went to hug him and for the first time in a long time, I let him hug me until he went slack, letting me know he was done with his hug. I shut off the lights and lay down. Not a minute later, 7 fingers popped up and I could barely see them in the glow of Jazzlyn's GlowWorm's guts, Guts we call it. As I come upon the 7 fingers I recognize he is wanting me to wake him up at 7 so he doesn't miss his cartoons. I greet his 2 with the tips of my peace sign and say, "I'll wake you up at 7." His hand stays up and I meet it with mine.

While Jazzlyn nursed and caressed my torso under the glow of guts, her fairy lights from her nook twinkle in the distance enough for me to fully take in my surroundings, and Jethro's hand falls for the 2nd of 3 times before he finally had enough weight about him to take him to another world, I am reminded of something Uncle David said in an interview with Staeci Whitehouse. "We live in this practice life, preparing for real life, then we are living in real life, and we realize there was never really a transition between the two lives, and it was all just the same life." I think I'm ready to live in real life now and stop trying to create some life of fantasy, I'm already living a fantasy. I can be happy now.

Tomorrow, I will drink more water and take more deep breaths.

[periru3]

Part 2 of my commentary on my derpy pokémon drawn from memory.

Original Post - Part 1 - Part 3

1F-1I - Eevee & Co.: these may be the most iconic pokémon I did the worst jobs on. Trash across the board. C- for effort. 

1J - Psyduck: I think I’m gonna give myself one verbal deployment of the Pam-Beesly-they’re-the-same-picture meme per post and this one is it for post number 2. This is what photorealism looks like. 

2F - Golduck: I think where I went wrong here is that I went for sort of a simmering, seething fury as opposed to the more external explosive rage that should characterize Golduck. 

2G - Jigglypuff: Stunning. A model.

2H-2I - Clefairy and Clefable: I think these guys would do fairly well in some sort of clefairy-and-clefable impersonation contest, like they could pull these characters off for Snatch Games on Drag Race for sure, but there is no denying that that is not clefairy or clefable.

2J - Farfetch’d: Turns out I'm almost as bad at drawing leeks as I am at drawing birds. Who knew. Also I’m very sorry for the blatant unibrow erasure in this image. 

3F-3H - Abra, Kedabra, and Alakazam: Sooo... none of these guys are...... great.... (Abra gets points for cuteness but not for accuracy)

3I-4F - Machop, Machoke, and Machamp: Ok, I got off to a rocky start on this one, I’ll admit it. But I think my hideous machop grew into his looks with each evolution. I’d go so far as to call my machamp “pretty ok”

4G-5G - lady nidos and then dude nidos: on the one hand, yes, they’re hideous. But on the other hand, I am SHOCKED at how recognizable most of them turned out. I will admit, however, that I totally forgot what nidorino looked like, specifically that he is not bipedal. 

5H - Venonat: genuinely nailed it. 

5I - Venomoth: nailed it, but like how they say it on the show “Nailed It!” every time they reveal the ugliest fucking cake you have ever seen in your life. 

5J-6G - Geodude, Graveler and Golem: admittedly there isn’t much to remember for these guys, design-wise, but I’m still proud of them. Might be my most consistantly successful evolutionary group of three other than starters. 

6H-6I - Growlithe and Arcanine: they may be derpy boys, but they’re still good boys. 

6J - Electabuzz: Frankly way way better than I expected. Might in fact take the prize for biggest positive discrepancy between expectations and reality.

7F-7G - Voltorb and Electrode: Yeah, so.... the fact that I remembered a) which of these came first and b) which had white/red on bottom vs. top was pure dumb luck. I absolutely did not remember which name goes with which, that I had to look up. Sue me for being a fake nerd, I dare you. 

7H-7I - Sandshrew and Sandslash: my perfect lil guys. (I am bummed I forgot the giant claws on sandslash though, given that... you know... “slash” is in the name.)

7J - Zubat: *sigh* I mean, not bad per se, but I know I could have done better. 

8F - Golbat: objectively worse than zubat, but something about her delights me

8G-8H - Koffing and Weezing: I probably should be less proud of these two considering how simple they are, but aside from flipping weezing around and forgetting that koffing is smiling, I think I absolutely nailed them both in accuracy and in....... I don’t know... gestalt?

8I - Lapras: I truly, deeply expected better on this one. How did she end up so fucking long????

8J-9F - Mankey and Primape: I’m pretty happy with these, especially with remembering primape’s jewelry and lil popped vein. Unfortunately I remembered that they don’t have mouths only after looking at the mouth I drew on mankey and thinking “wait, fuck, no”

9G-9H - Krabby and Kingler: I’ll be the first to admit that I suck at drawing claws, but otherwise I honestly think these lil dudes came out perfect?

9I - Tauros: Perfect, no notes. 

9J - Magmar: up there with electabuzz in the “shocked at how well I did actually” crew. I was definitely drawing a blank for a minute before my mind spontaneously supplied the words “duck face butt head” and it came together pretty well after that. 

10F-10H - Dratini, Dragonair and Dragonite: proportions are far from perfect, but I’m mostly happy with these three. Dratini is adorable, as well he should be. 

10I-10J - Staryu and Starmie: okay so it was probably a little fair that when I showed this to my friend and said I was happy with these two, his response was basically “yeah, congratu-fucking-lations, you know how to draw a star” but....... I’m happy with these two, fuck you. 

[indigo-ghost-girl]

Assimilated Sonic

Everyone else is doing it so I couldn’t help it.

I wanted it to give a very marionette vibe.

His personality would just be “another part of the system” simple and mostly to the point. This wouldn’t be permanent, there would be cracks, his cocky nature flares up sometimes. This can be comforting and creepy. Sometimes his cocky nature will manifest like a flamboyant silly snake like personality. Slow moving like a predator sneaking up on prey. Like speed can go from 1mph to 200mph in a second and it almost looks like he’s teleporting.

Whats creepier is he can go from calm and controlled to snakelike with no warning at all so you can never predict his movements.

Scary to fight, he will own you if it comes down to fist fighting. Ruthless when fighting.

His eyes look permanently wide open, and he does blink, he just does it so fast a normal eye can’t really see it unless they get lucky.

He can also hover like sage can. Just because he can doesn’t mean he does, he likes walking around on the ground, it makes him happy because of his love of running shining through.

The form on the first few images is a stable contained form, hence the glitching is only on his eyes hands shoes and those tear tracks. If he were to fight back against it enough/ his memories flare up it would start to spread again until he is “neutralized” once more. Sonic is always subconsciously fighting the system even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Assimilated Sonic has near full access to the machines and stuff on the island. Not all of it because Sage is playing it safe. The chaos emeralds would be very memory triggering to Sonic, so Sage keeps Sonic away from them.

I imagine his battle theme being a really slowed down techno cover of his world, like how Undertale took “your best friend” and slowed it to make “but nobody came”

Like this: https://youtu.be/dhj9K6Si4lk but slow it down to 0.5x speed, and you’ll get a good idea of what I mean. It would be familiar but distorted and wrong, but you would still hear the original positive notes of the song to show a kind of hope.

Also, an emotional moment would follow the same logic, a song like my dear friend might be played.

I was going to make the irises of his eyes red, but I found it was difficult to see amongst the glitch effect so that’s why they’re white. The same was briefly considered for the buckles but it drew attention away from the eyes so that was a no no. Believe it or not the tear tracks thing was not inspired by Sonic.exe but Error!Sans. Most of the original concept idea was directly inspired by everyone else’s (@smallpwbbles , @weirdozjunkary, @doodlebless, @misscloudiedays) designs too so I have to give credit. This isn’t my idea after all.

Edit: Now that Sonic frontiers is out i just want to say this was made based on the very little and vague information we had before the game came out. Most of which is now wildly outdated.

So is my comic:

I will be redesigning my assimilated Sonic to fit in more with the games rules:

Redesign:

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

ASOIAF House Fashion Headcanons : Part 1

So idk if I'm gonna get in trouble for this bc I'm not like, super deep into ASOIAF lore as some people are and might get things wrong, and I'm not very prominent in the fandom, but I'm big obsessed with costume/clothing design so hey, I'll give this a shot.

Basically I've recently been inspired by the art and words of wonderful people such as @persephones-plantpot, @inky-duchess, and @shebsart who have talked about the cultural clothing differences between the 7 kingdoms and I...wanted to do my own? I haven't been brave enough to draw them yet (one day! I'll update when that day comes!), but I do have ~ideas~ for my personal takes on the fashion of Westeros and I'd humbly like to bring them out. Based more on the books (as much as I love the show's costuming!) as sort of an alternative take - not necessarily 100% consistent with what they say about the clothing, but I try to stick to it occasionally. I love hearing different people's ideas on the clothes so I've thrown my own little opinion into the mix.

Warning: I'm wordy. Very.

The Targaryens: So here I'm less talking about Dany and Viserys, because while I'm sure they will have retained some of their cultural heritage through clothing (especially Viserys), they're detached from their homeland and family customs, and therefore have to adapt to whatever clothes they come across in their exile. Daenerys especially I think would adapt quickly, being younger and having virtually no memory of Westeros, and be wearing pretty much only Pentosi clothing at the beginning of the series.

ANYWAY onto the old Targaryen dynasty, pre-rebellion.

In terms of historical inspiration, I actually came up with a weird combination of traditional Russian/Slavic clothing and classical Roman/Greek dress

(Also, @persephones-plantpot drew her version as Byzantine inspired and THAT stuck in my head so, now there's Byzantine touches in my headcanon too *shrugs*).

Lots of Roman-style drapery, but with big yoke/collar situations going on, metal belts, torcs, arm bands and cuffs, hair jewelry and headdresses (similar in shape to the kokoshnik), and of course tons of dragon imagery in a variety of ways.

Big shoulders. Long coats with funky split sleeves for the men and long trains on the womens' gowns, all of it in expensive fabrics like velvet, silk, satin, and intricate brocades - they were the royal house after all.

For all the houses I want to stay away from sticking ONLY to the house colours, but did use them as a base to jump off from. So the Targaryens would obviously have red and black, but instead of a bright ruby red it's a whole swath of darker, more subdued tones. Maroon, burgundy, blood red - they're an old dynasty with a lot of weight behind them, so the shades in my mind would be "older"

Grey and white would also come up, with light draped outer garments in warmer weather

Also - purple. Dany wears it several times in the books, and as it's the traditional colour of royalty I can see them wearing it.

I even wondered if - in true Medieval fashion - they were the only ones allowed to wear purple, or certain shades of it, during their reign (or perhaps only during the reign of certain rulers)

Likewise, I see amethysts being a big part of their jewelry - they can be so polished and soft looking but also raw and spiky and dangerous.

Black stones too; onyx and (possibly raw) obsidian in all it's dragony goodness, and garnets that are such a dark red they're close to black. Diamonds as well. Elaborate jewels and beadwork would be worked into the clothing in a variety of ways.

I also have a headcanon that the majority of their jewelry would be mounted on silver or white gold, but never yellow gold to distinguish them from the Lannisters.

The Starks/North

Like many others, I headcanon a Scandinavian look - somewhere between Viking and traditional Saami clothing

Warm materials of course - mostly a variety of wools, linens, and even some kind of flannel - though I want to honour that velvet and silk are both mentioned as part of the Starks' wardrobe. The northerners tend to value comfort and practicality over aesthetic but the ~fancier~ Starks + allies would wear them for sure

Colour scheme would be fairly limited, mostly grey, white, and shades of blue and brown, but I don't want to ignore the fact that Sansa wears a lot of green in the first few books as well, so I'd like to think there's green in their palette

Not much in the way of jewelry, but a lot of heavy and complex embroidery

I can also see them being masters at pleating and smocking details

What jewelry there is would mostly consist of simple necklaces, brooches, pins and cloak clasps of etched iron and bronze, though I can see amber being used for beads, carved wooden beads as well.

Viking-style tortoiseshell brooches

Possibly walrus ivory used in both jewelry and craftwork along the coasts and in the far north.

Amber is fossilized sap, right? So it wouldn't be implausible to think that ancient Weirwood sap could form a rich, blood-red amber that's considered a Northern specialty and highly valued.

High collars to stave off the wind. Lots of fur.

I feel the common folk (and the nobility to some extent) have mastered the art of visible mending - using patching and stitching on worn clothes as a form of decoration. Northern clothing is durable and made to last, but I feel like the people would also push their clothes past the wearable limit and repurpose them for other uses (i.e. an old dress being cut up into fabric for a shawl or gloves, shirts into skirts, cloaks into dresses, etc.), so you'd see a lot of that

Hats! Hats! Hats! It's cold up there you guys!

Lannister/Westerlands:

Ok here I headcanon an early Renaissance/late Medieval sort of vibe, so like late 14th-early 15th centuries but sort of fantasy-ified

Especially the classic Burgundian dress

The Lannisters are very wealthy, so I'd expect the most expensive fabrics for them and other surrounding nobility - silks, velvets, satin, and lots of damask and brocade

Fancy headdresses, slight variations on those tall pointed hats

Also long veils, not so much covering the face but artistically and elaborately draped over the hair

They're all about house pride, so I feel like their house colours would be reflected more obviously in their clothing, so mostly bright, rich reds and gold/yellow shades, though I can also see some vivid greens and warm coppery browns mixed in

Cloth of gold and even metal-infused fabrics could be a thing

ALL about jewelry. Most of it's gold, but they won't say no to silver, copper, or bronze. Heavy and intricate necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings, or jewels just sewn right into the clothes themselves

All kinds of rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emeralds , pearls, opals, any precious stone they can get their hands on really

While they like to show off and make a statement with their clothing, I feel like they'd still have a sense of classiness about it - they're just vain enough to toe the line of gaudiness, but still snooty enough to judge those who cross it

Idk I just picture Cersei having bright red fingernails so. Nail polish.

Greyjoy/Iron Islands:

Someone made a post (that I unfortunately can't find) that described the Iron Island culture as being like a cross between Vikings and golden-age-of-piracy-era pirates, and...yeah that's pretty much my headcanon too

I'm going mostly Viking with this one but I can see some flowy shirts and long 18th century-style coats thrown into the mix

They wouldn't be that colourful though; mostly black, grey, brown, some dull greens, blues, and dark gold

Mostly wool and leather, often waxed to make it water-repellent (yes I stole that from the show's costume designer but you know what, it works That Much)

Also, I can weirdly see knitwear being popular. I know it doesn't match with their vibes, but hey, it's warm, and you can't tell me there isn't at LEAST one Iron Islands granny out there insisting her grandson wears the sweater she made for him before going out raiding so he doesn't get cold

Also also: shawls, fingerless mitts, scarves etc

Also also also, complex cable patterns are a big thing in both Irish and Scandinavian cultures, so I love the idea of them as well as having house sigils having like, family knitting patterns that they wear to identify them (or etched into a leather jerkin, that works too)

On that note - the sailor tradition of wearing a gold earring so if they die at sea their funeral can be paid for totally applies here, though I can see wealthier people wearing other ear piercings just for The Look as well

(Part of Theon's Full Hardcore Ironborn initiation in ACOK involved him getting his ear pierced and you CAN'T convince me otherwise)

I've recently seen a lot of people drawing/headcanoning the Ironborn with tattoos and I gotta say I agree

Possibly facepaint too? Like a war paint situation? Eyeliner??? Yes.

I think much of their jewelry/decoration would come from plundering, so there's stuff from a lot of other cultures

However; amber, iron, bronze, mother of pearl, and pearls (I love the idea of them using primarily black pearls) would be their home specialties

I love the idea of some of the more experienced raiders (like Euron and Victarion who have gone all over the place) wearing foreign/ Essosi coins as ornamentation on their clothes or as jewelry

Temple rings? They were more of a Slavic thing but they were a Viking thing too so *shrugs*

I think the women's clothing would have a hint of rural 18th century dress, though less structured, and they'd often cover their hair, more for practicality's sake than modesty though

Like the Starks they're practical, but I think Fancier Islanders would wear sealskin coats and wraps

THat's it for now, there'll be a part 2 soon and I feel really inspired to draw these so you might even get that at some point if I've got time. Feel free to debate or add your own ideas !

[theomnicode]

Chapter 170 inconsistencies and weirdness:

Garou and his absolute evil preaching hypocricy

Garou, I didn't take you for such a massive hypocrite. You're left off the hook here completely while you beat up heroes, cut off a guys's arm, caused massive property damage and almost destroyed the earth with Gamma ray but you also caused entire tectonic shifts. Who knows what that kind of stuff causes to Earth.

This dude needs a prosthetic arm because of you Garou and you're only being investigated for dine and dash? Man. One would think Garou did a whole lot more serious deeds than just dine and dash that he can't exactly apologize for. This cognitive dissonance is unbecoming.

The whole deal is also a reference to when he was in school and getting detention and his parents being called and conveniently word play in japanese kanji reads detention. But Garou's parents apparently did arrive when he was in school but here they do not.

2. Why in the world is there a pentagram?

It's not a sfx or an effect of any kind. It's just a reverse pentagram.

A reversed pentagram, with two points projecting upwards, is a symbol of evil and attracts sinister forces because it overturns the proper order of things and demonstrates the triumph of matter over spirit. It is the goat of lust attacking the heavens with its horns, a sign execrated by initiates."

Why is there a random reverse pentagram? :D

3. Misattribution of memory

Garou remembers nothing about the guy who decked him (does not even assume the identity), nothing about the powers he gained before and after monsterization and nothing about events that happened after Saitama came back in time to stop ominous future but then lists Blast as an opponent that he had fought after turning into a monster and lists them in the wrong order and being sure the guy could give him a good spar. Meanwhile, the does not remember Saitama, who he actually fought for a long duration. He also remembers fighting Bang and Bomb, despite being unconscious the whole time.

4. Bang's secret Informant

Bang should not have knowledge that Tareo was even a hostage in the first place, because Garou rescued him, then had to get him to fend on his own and then King found him.

The only hostage he would know would be Waganma. Even if Garou had told him, it seems strange to refer to Tareo as "hostage kid".

4. Tareo's new shirt

Tareo has had this same shirt for the entirety of the arc. Kiddo wore same shirt for 7 years straight.

Now the shirt design has the same letters, but it's just slightly bit differently designed. Seems extremely redundant when he still wears the same pants and same shoes.

Or a mistake in memory again. Might be a funny reference to that one time Murata drew the letters in wrong order. But that just makes it even more noticeable that it's different now.

5. Vaccineman kids

So why are these kids making a reference to vaccineman? Lord knows this guy ain't anime villain. He's mother earth's apostle. Fact that might be important.

6. Bang's miraculous de-aging

Metal knight was able to de-age you so your back no longer bothers you? While you got radiated so badly you collapsed mere moments later in the worse future? Dang. I want me some of that. He also never promised full-body maintenance, he was only going to provide a de-radiation for all the heroes.

Apparently he couldn't somehow make your facial wounds vanish in a week either huh? But he had a magic cure for age.

Wounds that are also inconsistent with the actual head wounds you got.

I think that head bandage should go on the top right instead of bottom left.

7. Sekingar in general

A very nice prosthetic hand that is doing fine motor functions in a week? That's insane. Human body would require extreme physiotherapy to operate any kind of prosthetics.

Also, you're far too eager to get Garou into the roster of heroes, the known hero hunter and someone who almost destroyed the planet with Gamma ray that you yourself saw. Saitama was dumped to C-rank because he needed to be evaluated on his heroism since he tested so poorly. You were not searching for strong heroes, but heroes with integrity to get the job done and Garou as you know him does not fit the bill, he's practically a villain to your knowledge.

Especially if you think he's as good as Bang.

8. Giant craters littering the ground.

For absolutely no reason. That we've never seen before. Metal Knight is thorough and efficient and he cleaned up after Boros well and he would not leave infastructure on the verge of collapsing when it was built atop giant craters that would destroy the roads.

Thoughts on the why here.

9. Bang does not have a television

Bang immediately knows who Garou is refering to, the body type and even what kind of food the actress apparently enjoys in the show and that it's different from what Garou knows her to be, while never having watched said show in it's newest format, something that gets confirmed by Garou on the next sentence. He doesn't even own a tv, his dojo is empty.

Garou also knows a lot about the Sentai rangers and is ready to go into an explanation to share his hobby, but does not remember the name of his favourite ranger.

10. Identity-less people milling about

Garou only sees faceless shadows when concerning his bullies. Other people walking around him are normal in Garou's view.

Closeup on people walking around them but only having a blank slate does not make sense when Garou's vision about other people is concerned.

11. Saitama's weird shirt design

Those pineapples look just a bit too much like a mix of octopuss and pineapple.

And a Mindbender from WoW. Honestly might be a video game reference because the first thought of mine was Ilios map from Overwatch lol.

Also something we saw in God's mural. Octopuss and pineapple. And a pot too.

12. Santorini island

The island was the site of one of the largest volcanic eruptions in recorded history: the Minoan eruption (sometimes called the Thera eruption), which occurred about 3,600 years ago at the height of the Minoan civilization.[4] The eruption left a large caldera surrounded by volcanic ash deposits hundreds of metres deep.

Feels like a reference to Gaia cannon and the fact that Garou made volcanoes spawn.

13. Saitama wears a hat

I've legit never seen Saitama wear a hat in any official source that is not random side artwork. Especially to protect his bald head from the sun.

He does not need protection from the sun. He IS the sun personified. He thrives in the sun and the more his bald head gleams in the sun, the better.

It's like someone affixed him with a hat, thinking his bald head would need protection from getting sunburnt, who does not actually know Saitama all that well.

Also, where did he get the money to buy new clothes, new gardening tools and why would he use those instead of actual clam rakes if they are looking for clams?

Are they looking for clams or for their apartment stuff or are they gardening in the sand? It seems extremely inefficient to use a small gardening tool to look for random stuff after a week from the sand. Genos can detect all sorts of things from underground like massive life forms, I see no reason why he wouldn't get a metal detector too and other stuff to help out.

That concludes the episode on chapter 170 discovery channel.

[asher-the-diaster]

the sister planets part 6

tiredness

as always here are the part index so you can find other installments https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DYMuKK5CIgJgDapNbu5sBqr_b5uT1Yz4pJoJ2fuAk4w/edit?usp=sharing

The conseil meeting just went on and on for hours after we discovered that the humans were saphians.

The captain started to droop in her chair, she made a weird noise as things went on.

Soon the area behind her eyes was getting darker, she was having trouble keeping her head up.

I noticed and I could see that titi-ta did too but there was nothing that we could do.

Time went on and she got irritable.

Until finally she made a gutral call from deep in her throat.

“Ok!” she screamed, “that’s it!”

Everyone turned to her and froze, the way she was talking raditaed danger, we were transfixed.

The captain stood on her good leg, somehow managing to stay blanched.

“I don’t know aot, but I don't know that we are not getting anywhere, and this has to stop. I am aware that you are scared, and I am too, but we have been at this for like 12 hours so it's clear we aren’t going to get anywhere! I also know that I am a soldier not a member of the government, i am not a diplomat, whatever comes of this won’t be my decision. Finally I can get you into contact with someone who can, or at very least help you try, but not right now!”

“Why not?” asked simany, he was the military representative and seemed to be the only person not scared out of her wits at the humans behaviour.

“Because I haven't slept, or eaten in a good 48 hours, and am dangerously close to passing out or going on a murderous rampage.”

“What is sleep? it’s not translating?” I asked.

“It's a human survival function, a form of rest we need daily to function. It's been 2 days since i got any.”

“What does it require?”

“A safe place to lie down, dark and fucking quite!”

“Ok, ok, we will let you go back to the contact room.”

We ajured the conseil until the captain could get this sleep, in order to function again.

I escorted her back to the room as I was supposed to check on the other human's injuries.

As soon as we left the conseil chambers the captain stumbled.

She leaned heavily on her crutch, eyes barely open, she kept putting her hand in front of her air mask.

“Captain you don’t look well do you need assistance?”

“Just try, I'll be fine, come on.”

By the time we made it to the airlock she was only standing because of her crutch, which hadn’t been designed to take the humans full weight.

“While the airlock was changing from neutral air to earth air, she started to undo her skin.

I looked at her terrified, “relax my species developed to wear extra layers to protect us from the elements.

Well that would explain how they conquered a death planet.

As soon as the air exchange was complete we stepped through the contact chamber, only to find that the light had been turned off. The captain seemed to have slightly better night vision than me and went over to her stretcher in the room, taking off the breathing apparatus.

I noticed that the human glowed, very faintly in the dark, probably less than they could see.

I was threw that and the strong heat waves the humans give off that i saw the dead humans.

I gave off a high pitched squeal, the captain turned to look at me, “what's wrong?”

“Your companions are dead!” I screamed.

“What? No!” the captain said, “they're just sleeping!”

I pulled the emergency alarm, and the room filled with red light.

“Twee-ake, stop their fine.”

The humans bloated upright.

“What's going on?” one of them asked.

Doctors rushed through the airlock into the room.

“Nothing!” Penner yelled, “nothing is happening, they just saw you sleeping and assumed you were dead!”

“Nothey were dying!” i yelled, “their body temperature was low, their hearts were breathing too slowly, they were breathing too little! I swear they were dead or dying!”

The captain drew a strangely heavy breath, “no that was normal, and i can explain latter but for now,” she raised a frist by her head with three of her fingers and thumb together with only the finger in the middle sticking out, i did not understand the gesture, but i had a suspicion it wasn't very polite, “and goodnight.”

She flopped back onto the medical stretcher and closed her eyes.

“I second that sentiment,” the human with the broken arm said.

Soon all the humans were in the same pre-death state, we left the room disturbed.

*+*+*+*

The next day the human medic explained what exactly sleep was: a survival function in which the saphin mind shut down their consciousness and awareness of their environment in order to achieve other important survival functions, such as converting short term memory into long term, healing wounds, and the brain getting rid of toxic waste.

“Humans and other animals on earth need sleep,” Olivera explained, “it's essential for our survival, if it wasn’t every species that required it would have been killed off long ago by the ones that don’t, but that didn’t happen. There are creatures that need to keep moving to breathe that still sleep. To you sleeping might look like death, but for us it keeps us alive.”

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji 

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ  DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching. 

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people  within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now. 

A caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted. 

His little caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were. 

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did. 

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart. 

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[martuzzio]

Love your drawings how do you make them?

Thank you for the compliment! I haven't done a digital drawing tech/process update in a while so this is going to be so long, sorry in advance! HUGE disclaimer: I have a steady income and like buying art supplies so my setup is NOT broke art kid friendly. However, I do have worthwhile and sometimes free suggestions!

Software: Adobe fresco and photoshop (I get them for free through my job as a graphic designer, don't come for me). More affordable options I like are CSP (one time purchase), Procreate (I've never used it, but I can't leave it out), and Krita (free!). All of these are awesome and let you do a LOT, including animation!

Hardware: Huion Kamvas 24in on an articulated monitor arm (college graduation gift to myself). In the past I've used a Wacom 13in (bought secondhand from a friend for super cheap), a surface book laptop/tablet (very generous Christmas gift from parents), and my iphone. Finding affordable options for hardware is more difficult than software, but if you have the money for it, looking for a drawing tablet on a secondhand site like ebay or facebook marketplace is worth your time.

Other drawing supplies: a random drawing stylus for my phone, a scanner, a sketchbook, pinterest, colorhunt, unsplash, dafont, and my gigantic 4gb folder of textures on my laptop. I also signed up for this freebie thing from creativemarket (and haven't been charged any money yet so that's cool) which will send me stuff like new digital brushes and cool textures to download. It's definitely more graphic design focused than illustration, but I'd still check it out if you're interested. :D

My art process in bullet points, for pieces I actually spend time on:

Sketch my idea in my sketchbook or phone, sleep on it, then actually start drawing the idea the next day

Make a tighter sketch from the loose sketch I drew the night before while using a million references from pinterest (for really funky poses) or unsplash (for scenery and background ideas) so I'm not drawing completely from my mind/memory (this is important because your mind is prone to remembering things wrong. Always always always use references)

Completely skip over actually lining my art and instead clean up my tight sketch until it looks okay enough

Fill in flat colors using a textured brush (gasp) while sometimes using color palettes as inspiration

Render colors with more textured brushes (plain hard edge circle brush users fight me /j)

Shade in a cel style on top of the rendered colors with a bright mid tone purple/blue/pink set on multiply at 50%

Clip a layer on top of my "lineart," color all of it a dark blue or brown, then start coloring different parts of it with various colors (ex: for a diamond sword, I'd color the edge hitting the light with a bright blue/green/pink. For the edge in shadow, a purple/dark blue/brown)

Forget to sign my name, close the drawing program, then have to reopen it

This is SO LONG, but I hope this gives some insight! If anyone has more questions, let me know. :)

P.S: I have so many art resources saved in my browser that I kind of want to make a whole separate post for it. Let me know if that's something you'd like to see! I might just make it lol

[archesa]

don’t take this the wrong way,  but you don’t quite look well. // oh,  i’m going to enjoy making my first impression with you.  how am i doing so far? :3

Thanks a lot for this prompt!! The scenes took a while to come out but here's a little midnight treat, for your patience!

Incidentally, the two sentences gave me vibes for the same character so, here's the first of two little scenes featuring everyone's favorite cactus!

"Don’t take this the wrong way,  but you don’t quite look well."

Trahearne looked up, a bitter laugh breaking past his lips as the secondborn sat next to him.

"She died. We saw her die. And whatever people think about necromancy, death is not a revolving door."

"Says the nec— right... But you say this as if the southern parts of Elona were not held in firm grasp under the iron fist of a Lich, as if some risen with a slither of consciousness did not roam Orr — she told me you had lost a botanist recently... And she's not one to bend her will to the odds. If anyone could be offered a way back...", he trailed off... "So how can you be so certain?"

"Apatia."

Canach frowned, feeling the weight of regret in the firstborn's voice. A life lost to the Pact, certainly.

"Crusader Apatia was a recruit of the Pact", Trahearne confirmed. "A decisive asset in the retaking of Claw Island — and she requested a chance to work with Anwen on a field mission. The two of them did get along well and their aptitudes complimented each others so I sent them on an artefact hunt. The mission was successful but Apatia went missing in action. Anwen gathered a rescue team, but we were too late. Apatia had been tortured to death, corrupted and risen. And all Anwen could offer her was a mercy kill...", he explained, the memory too vivid, too familiar, safe for its fateful end. "I knew it had taken a toll on her, but... When we reached Elona, when we discovered what the Forged really were... Anwen was terrified of being killed and used beyond death to harm those she loved. So she asked me to ensure she never could. I designed the seal — runes from an Orrian ritual and a protokrytian protection spell — and a tattoo artist in Amnoon inked it. The design was perfect — I checked. She could never be risen. That's why I know... That's not her. Not really. An imposter. A mesmer trick at best. A midnight wraith at worst..."

A pensive silent drew, only troubled by the whimpering wind singing their broken aria in between the pillars of stone, beyond the cove.

"Say you're wrong and she really found a way back."

"Then I trust she will understand and forgive me."

"Worse then, assume you're right,and she's a spectre, conjured by our collective grief, clinging to this world until the sun rises. These might be the very last moment you have with her... What are you doing here, sulking, when you could have till dawn?"

[hes-writer]

To You (4)

Summary: harry dates y/n to get closer to her best friend

Warnings: mild angst (what else lol), not a lot of dialogue for this one, and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 2775 words

A/N: I've had the worst writer's block for this series but then inspiration struck me at 2 am and I had the chance to write a lil sumthin sumthin for the next part :D

Read the full series in my masterlist (bio)

As I mentioned before, this story kind of goes backwards.

____

As self-deprecating as it is, Y/N couldn’t help but feel her guard lower with each fleeting glance at her phone. She didn’t mean to, really. It wasn’t as if she was bored out of her mind because she was the opposite of that. 

Going on her phone and tapping on Instagram was more of a distraction from studying if anything. She was hounded by piles of homework and pages of readings to do by the end of next week. It seemed that her brain was working in constant overdrive to try to remember the endless concepts and theories that were catapulted at her with no signs of stopping. Her eyes were straining from the constant stimulation from her laptop screen, and from trying to read the small letters plastered on the computer. 

Y/N was studying on her designated studying days, as usual. She was quite proud of sticking to the schedule, except for the few weeks that she opted to coddle herself in the confines of her warm blanket because that was around the time that she found out her boyfriend, Harry, was only using her to get close to her best friend, Louise. 

——

In retrospect, Y/N should have seen all the signs blaring right in front of her face all along. She gave herself facepalms more than she could count by the way she was—quite literally—blinded by love to realize that Harry’s feelings were nothing but a façade. That Y/N was nothing but a pawn in his game; a character to manipulate, disposable in order for him to get the woman he actually wanted. And Y/N had no doubts that her ex-boyfriend was treating Louise like a queen. 

Y/N wore red-tinted glasses while she was with Harry and she didn’t see the red flags rising every time he shaped their evening around Louise’s schedule. She thought that Harry was making such a good effort in getting to know the people close to Y/N’s life that he insisted on having Louise around whenever they hung out with her friends. 

Harry asked endless questions about Louise; from where she worked to what she was interested in—to which Y/N had foolishly answered, believing that she had found the perfect man to share her life with. But she should have known when he didn’t do the same for her other friends. Hell, he didn’t even do the same to her!

___

When Harry and Y/N were just friends, he didn’t bother getting to know her as thoroughly and comprehensively as he did with Louise. In fact, it could be argued that Harry hated Y/N when they were first introduced by—and this was ironic—Louise! 

Louise spoked highly and excitedly of ‘my friend, Y/N’ and with Harry being the loved-up simp that he was—wanted to please Louise by appearing interested in her friend. He guessed that he was probably too good of an actor (not to toot his own horn) because that meet up turned into a set-up. 

Louise had planned a date for her friends, Y/N was indifferent to it; she was even a little excited because she thought that Harry was sort of nice. Despite the fact that he was indirectly rude to her in their first meeting, Y/N didn’t hold grudges on people for their first impressions. She believed that anybody could have a bad day and that might just be the time when Harry was dragged by the arm to be introduced to her. 

Y/N understood if that was the case. She was not too keen on acting nice and friendly after a stressful day at work, or a hard study session at the library. So even if Harry was practically snarling at every word she said from his seat around the rounded booth table of the bar—she agreed to go on a first date with him. 

——

Harry was in shambles.

He got himself into quite an intricate mess trying to attain the woman of his dreams. He was such a pleaser that he was now contemplating inside his car, outside of Y/N’s address. Was this all worth it? Of course, it was. As much as Harry would like to say that this was part of his plan to make Louise his girlfriend, it really wasn’t. 

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use it to his advantage. 

It was a good thing that he was early—about twenty minutes or so. That was only because he was huffing the whole time Harry was buttoning the clutches of his dress shirt, shaking his head at the bathroom mirror and reprimanding himself for letting his lovesickness to get him deeper than he would like. But hey, the sooner Harry got to Y/N’s place, the sooner this ‘date’ would be over. 

So here he was, hidden in the shadows of the night sky and shielded by the heavy tint of his Range Rover. Palms were pressed on the lush leather steering wheel as Harry formulated how he could turn this around in his favour. He was already in Louise’s good books for even agreeing to this in the first place—why not make Y/N his own personal wingman?

Granted, that she didn’t actually know Harry well enough but maybe this date could reach Louise’s ears about how much of a romantic, perfect, and chivalrous gentleman Harry could be. That would surely make Louise like him, right?

Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

It was safe to say that Harry was feeling guilty the moment he decided to use Y/N in order to get to her best friend, but that ship sailed long ago when anger and frustration took over. Why in the hell was he so perfect to Y/N’s eyes that she had gushed about him to her best friend minutes after he had dropped her off?

Why did Harry have to knock on her door with a single-stemmed rose clutched in his fingers, doing a little bow to add humour when she opened the door? And what in God’s name possessed him to say that she looked beautiful that night in her pretty, deep green dress that he thought was absolutely gorgeous on her—but his heart was with another woman—fully knowing that it would look better on Louise?

“Why. . . just why,” Harry asked himself as he sat at a table with Y/N, Louise and her boyfriend, Dylan. 

That was what being romantic got him. That was where declaring Y/N as his unofficial wingman ended him upon. A double date with the woman he wanted with Y/N looking at him as if they’ve been together for years, when in fact, they had only known each other for a few weeks. 

Harry’s pride was too big to admit that this time; he couldn’t get the girl. And so, his bruised ego declared that this date was just another unplanned situation that would benefit him—somehow, someway—in the future. 

Wrong again. 

Because a month later,  Y/N was running off to her lecture with a bag strapped over her shoulder, leaving Harry a passionate kiss on the lips. He was quite ashamed to say that he enjoyed the affection, but not enough to ignore the throbbing of his heart

Harry wasn’t all in with his relationship with Y/N and he knew exactly why. For months, he had been pining for Louise and well, he ended up with her best friend, Y/N. Now that was just super unlucky for him. And he wasn’t usually a mean person, but Harry was very annoyed with fate (or destiny) for leaving with an ultimatum. 

First, leaving Y/N risking her tattling to Louise about him breaking her heart was a no-no. Second, staying with Y/N until she realizes that both of them were no good together. The latter was a much more pleasant choice, except the fact that it could take months for Y/N to acknowledge that she and Harry were both too different for each other. 

—— 

It was another four months later when Harry drew upon an epiphany very similar yet completely different from the ultimatum he had presided. 

Y/N was sure of her feelings more than ever, even dropping the ‘L’ word during a drunken stupor of wine and bubbly champagne. Harry was sure that she hadn’t remembered her confession the next morning because she never brought it up. However, those words that escaped her lips were enough for Harry to overthink each night one or the other slept over. 

Sometimes Y/N’s snores would serve as background noise to his serene imagination, wondering why the images of Louise and him doing couple-y stuff were now replaced with Y/N’s figure instead. 

He also pondered if his memory was so impeccable that he could hear Y/N’s laugh fluttering in his ears while she was sound asleep beside him or was it just because she released a chuckle every time he made a horrible joke?

(It was true. Y/N never left Harry hanging in the air with a questionable punchline of a head-scratching joke. Both of them knew that her giggles were pity laughs. Harry was thankful for it and Y/N just couldn’t resist painting a genuine smile on Harry’s face, looking so proud that he had made her laugh.) 

Harry was certain that his feelings for Y/N wouldn’t quite reach the threshold that he held her for now. But it seemed that he was getting a lot of his sworn predictions wrong lately. Sure, their first encounter (and the second, and the third. . .) were purely for satisfaction’s sake. A mere plot for Harry to build his boyfriend resumé for Louise. 

Harry wasn’t sure when his feelings shifted from civil and friendly to an ever-evoking, lovesick puppy. 

Maybe it was the way Y/N walked, straight into his heart and stole it, keeping it safe in her tender hands when she pressed a lingering kiss on his lip while she ran off to catch the bus. The way Harry would pout when Y/N forgot the routine she had set, resulting in him whining her name and sometimes chasing after her to get his much-needed kiss. He even started calling it his ‘good-luck charm’ because it seemed like without it; Harry came home more drained and tired than usual because nothing went right that day. 

Or maybe it was the way she giggled while reading something on her phone, laptop, or a book—even if it was for school purposes. How absolutely pleased he was to hear her melody of giggles, straining his ear to listen more closely and wanting to do nothing more than to hear it again because it was music to Harry. It usually ends with Y/N’s heaving breaths, begging him to stop tickling her. 

Was it because she was the most adorable little thing while she was asleep? No, it couldn’t be, Harry thought, even though the admiration in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than glazed over with love and affection with the way he stared at Y/N’s sleeping face. 

But why can’t he stop thinking about her when she wasn’t around? Harry felt like he was missing a part of himself as soon as he shut the door to his house because Y/N had to go to her own place. 

Why did a smile splinter his lips visualizing Y/N studying at her kitchen table with a topknot wobbling on her head and a pair of her thick-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose? Harry still remembers the first time she asked him to redo the bun on her head, complaining that it was loosening and that she couldn’t focus when strands were haywire. 

Harry made sure to be extra careful as to not accidentally pull on her scalp, stretching the hairband around his fingers. 

Now, he only had a minute experience in hair styling, reminiscing to his long-haired days were he slipped his hair into a neat ball in a few seconds or less. But this was Y/N, his girlfriend, who had an adorable pout on her face. The finch between her brows deepening when she tried to understand the concepts written on the screen yet she would giggle when Harry would ask her, ‘Am I hurting you?’ and shake her head ‘no’. 

——-

So it was a bit questionable when Harry jumped at the chance to kiss Louise when the time came. 

She had just broken up with her boyfriend and called Y/N for comfort. However, Y/N was about to leave for an exam worth half of her grade and she couldn’t just not attend it. She may love her best friend with all of her heart, but not enough to waste thousands of dollars to redo a course because she missed the final exam. 

Hence, why Harry was sent in place of Y/N instead. And that was also how his plump lips managed to lock itself with Louise’s’ glossy ones. He should’ve felt guilt stab him right away when he tasted wet, salty tears on his tongue when he battled for dominance with Louise. 

Harry should have pulled away when his phone buzzed in his pocket; a message from girlfriend that she had just finished her exam and was ready to be picked up now so that she could give love and comfort to her best friend. 

Harry’s subconscious must have reminded him that this was the woman whom he had spent months pining on; desperately trying to make her his yet failing. And now that he had the chance to, he couldn’t stop. 

Instead of doing everything his conscience had practically yelled at him to do, Harry’s brain had buffered—his body numbed every nerve except the ones controlling his mouth because their persisting kiss was captured by a photographer hidden amongst barricades that Harry had failed to take notice of. 

Harry was sure that his presence was hidden to the best of his abilities, but he guessed that Louise’s hands had pulled his hoodie off in the midst of their make-out session, revealing his side profile and the unruly curls on his head. 

And that was how Y/N identified the image on her phone the time she felt her heart being ripped out and crushed into pieces. That, and the fact that Harry wore the same clothes she had seen him in before she left. 

____ 

And now, as Y/N paused her thumb from scrolling away from the image on her screen, the same pain and heartbreak still throbbed in her chest. 

She couldn’t seem to forget, as a lot of people say, what Harry did to her. Despite the fact that he was spotted outside her door, leaving boxed gifts of chocolate and flower bouquets a few minutes ago—Y/N simply didn’t have the capacity to sweep everything under the rug. 

The wound was still fresh—feeling air was enough to have her hissing, aiming to cover the cut in fear that it would become too painful to even ignore. For weeks, Y/N had to wallow in agonizing self-pity to remind herself that Harry didn’t deserve her or her love for him and now she was somehow ready to run back into his arms? 

She absolutely despised the way her hands twitched to send him a text. To leave him a voicemail or to simply tap his contact just to hear him speak to her again. Y/N was ashamed to admit that he thought about knocking on his front door just for another chance at seeing him again. An opportunity to ask him if he was happier with her (ex) best-friend—if Harry loved Louise more than he did with her. Or—and most of all—if Harry ever did love Y/N during their short relationship. Was everything just a game to him? 

She was doing good so far; she was strong enough to withhold from the urges of communicating with an ex. However, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before Harry took extreme measures to speak to her, unlocking her door with the spare key she had given him. One day she would be met with his figure in the hallway with a sad smile on his face and three long-stemmed sunflowers in his hand and Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

Y/N hated herself for being so weak whenever Harry was involved. He was her Kryptonite; getting too close to him was what ripped her to shreds. 

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