#I feel like people will be able to tell that I usually draw characters from the waist up

[juanjoltaire]

hallooooo!! just finished sobbing over drink to forget, looked at the art- nd noticed enjolras looks VERY familiar. if that makes sense. do you follow a reference for either of the characters? he looks a lot like my family friend (played enjolras professionally) so im just curious to see if theres an enjolras archetype or anything thats recognisable in the face of both or if you do follow a reference of sort. Youre so inspiring btw ♡

Hello! First of all I think it's really cool you know someone that looks like my Enjolras design and also played Enjolras, that's amazing! :o My designs, even if you can't tell anymore, were originally based off of Tveit and Blagden. I think certain times you can see it...

(Original Post)

And a few times back in the day I used their images to redraw screencaps to mix in with my style.

(Original Post)

But now I just have a specific essence of them in my head that doesn't look like the actors anymore and just is them. I've been drawing them for 12 years so I don't need anything but what's in my head when it comes to drawing their faces. Sometimes it's hard for me to translate exactly what I see in my mind but I think these examples do a good job of it.

(Original Post)

(Original Post)

Enjolras I imagine to have this more feminine face on top of a strong bone structure but it's hard for me to get across sometimes because my style is often...goofy? I feel? For example you mentioned the Drink to Forget and I feel like those are a bit off from what I imagine. But I think these above are nice in terms of trying to show how he feels in my head. And my Grantaire is just my Grantaire I think I can usually hit the mark with him because for me he's like goofy and cute at the same time and that works fine in my style.

I do use references from time to time, but it's usually on a very loose basis. For example with this one I used one just to get the angle of the face right. But he looks nothing like the model from the pic I was looking at.

(Original Post)

But most times lately I don't use anything and tbh it feels nice to be able to have them come pretty naturally to me at this point. Anyway I hope that answers your question. The main point I think I'm saying is at some point you draw characters so many times they become their own people in your head and I enjoy that :) Thank you so much! I'm very happy you enjoyed Drink to Forget!

[cyberphuck]

Hey guys professional Jaydee here So the thing about depicting human (or human-like) subjects in art is that no matter what you do, every portrait is going to look a little bit "off," even the most photorealistic ones, because humans are not still-life. The way your eyeball sees images and then transmits them to your brain, and the way your brain processes them, is very different from how a static (or "still/not moving") image will look. Think of the "composite sketch" of a wanted criminal versus what their mugshot ends up looking like. Even then, what people say when they see a perfect photorealistic drawing isn't "wow it looks just like an alive person," it's "wow it looks just like a photo." What I'm trying to say here is that when you draw a portrait of someone, it's more important to capture the general feeling of that person then exactly how that person looks. For instance...

Here's famous artist Al Hirschfeld's drawing of the main characters in Star Trek TOS. Hirschfeld is famous for his style that uses very few lines, and usually one big, swooping line for the torso/body. You can tell which person is which in this drawing pretty easily. But if you were to look at an actual photo of the cast members...

.... hey, they don't look the way Hirschfeld drew them at all! But you did recognize them, because Hirschfeld captured the feeling of the characters, rather than exactly how they looked. And even though Al Hirschfeld's caricatures are an extreme example of this, you'll find that every artist does this to some degree. (Even photographers play around with focal length and lights and dark room magic to change the way their photos look, but this isn't an overly long post about photography.) What does this mean for you and Data? It means you're doing fine. Q recognized Data right away! I tend to look at pictures before I read the text, and I knew who he was too from the second I saw him. Could someone say your art looks bad and make rude comparisons? Sure, people do that with every artist, even famously "good" ones, and you'd know it if you ever heard me talk about Gustav Klimt. But, as we all know, it isn't kind to do that to someone who isn't Gustav Klimt. But, let me use my art powers to bring your drawings up to "standard." There we go, and we'll make sure everybody else is up to the same standard. Good, now we have a whole bunch of identical pictures of Brent Spiner. Alright I'm putting everything back the way it was. I think your drawings are fine. This sounds really corny, but the most important part of making art is how you feel when making it. You'll never be able to control how other people feel when looking at it, but you can experiment by looking at a whole bunch of different kinds of art and then trying all of it. Show it off with pride, and if someone says something rude about it, tell them to sit on a cactus.

Well, I just got dealt a swift kick in the guts 😳

I put a compliment on someone's Instagram art as they were asking for feedback on their Data portraits. I then asked if they'd like to see mine and they agreed. So I pm'd the sketches below. However I was (very) taken aback when they told me they looked more like some Belgian actor called Louis Thysson than Data and said I needed to practice a lot more to get to a good standard (?) This person is actually a mutual, so I did think it was a bit 'off'. Besides, I am trying to console myself that they only aspire to that very lifelike photo style - which I don't - and they only do faces while I do lots of styles, subjects and full body poses. Anyway, I thought I'd let you see and judge for yourselves... 😔

[a-page-full]

I need to rant about Kalego's character progression from Welcome to Demon School Iruma-Kun! And I have no one to talk to about it.

Spoilers ahead (specifically manga spoilers)

Okay. We all know how at the start of it all, Kalego despises Iruma. The second Kalego becomes Iruma's familiar he is furious and tries to rebel and even get Sullivan to break the contract. (All within episode 2).

The next time we see Kalego interact with Iruma is in front of Camu-Camu's store where he clearly tells Iruma that he will never act as his familiar. To never call on him in any circumstance. Right?

That's why, when we get to the Heartbreaker exam, I want to cry. Before the exam, the only time Kalego is ever called as his familiar is when other people make Iruma summon Kalego. We never see Iruma ever actually use Kalego as his familiar. This also takes place after the first year contract was broken (so that Kalego would not be Iruma's familiar anymore which horribly backfires for Kalego).

During the Heartbreaker, Iruma is the one to summon Kalego. He basically begs Kalego not to harm anyone, to which Kalego looks at him and asks if it was a command (as demon and their familiar).

But then we get the part that makes me want to cry. In one moment, Iruma's danger sense goes off, and he feels immense bloodlust. Without thinking, Iruma calls on Kalego, for the first time actually making use of his familiar, and Kalego, who swore that first time to never do Iruma's bidding, immediately goes to Iruma's side to fight off a threat that he hadn't even known about. There was no hesitation or complaining. Kalego knew that whatever made Iruma actually call on his familiar was a danger to be taken seriously.

Sometimes I think about the fact that if the familiar contract had not been renewed, Iruma would have been taken. Kalego would not have been there to protect Iruma in that moment.

Then we get the 13th of Betrayal! Keeping in mind that at this point Kalego has already talked to Narnia who hinted that Iruma was a human, and we learn that the Naberious klan finds humans to be utterly repulsive and dispicable creatures. So Kalego should and probably did have those beliefs (maybe Balam's interests in humans helped him unconsciously curb that bias he was raised in).

The thing is, though, that with that conversation very fresh in his mind, Kalego enters the building again, turns a corner, sees Iruma laying on the ground in the middle of the hallway with Asmodeus kneeling beside him, and SPRINTS to Iruma's side to make sure he was okay. Like I want to cry. This man who hated Iruma at first, sees Iruma in a position that makes him instantly think that he was hurt, and ran to check on him. The fact that Nishi draws genuine worry on Kalego's face in that moment is so beautiful.

Then I can't end this rant without mentioning the conversation between Kalego and Balam. The fact that Kalego wanted confirmation that Iruma was a human while still being able to hold onto plausible deniability so he can continue to protect Iruma fully? Absolutely amazing. His character has changed so much while maintaining his usual personality and demeanor.

Iruma has so much impact on every single demon around him including Kalego. It's just so beautifully done! I love this series a normal amount.

[animusbell]

ghost trick rules, man.

i could tell you a billion funny lines or moments from the game out of context. i could tell you about the charmingly strange cast and stellar character design. i could tell you about the only buttons being "ghost" and "trick." i could tell you about twists that'd make your jaw drop to the floor, though that wouldn't be very fun to have spoiled.

but you know the realest draw that i rarely see people actually talk about? ghost trick has an incredible mystery!

the game starts with a question that isn't answered until the very end. but along the way, you do learn every single piece of information you'd need to figure it out yourself. the same is true of the smaller mysteries that pop up throughout the game, each of them presenting questions and then solutions that add more clues to your central mystery.

all of the game's logic is self-contained. all the information you need is said right to you - and yet, most often, people playing blind don't realize the answers until a few seconds before they're explained. the game presents you the same scenes over and over, but each time, you learn something new that completely recontextualizes what you've seen. the game will never make fun of you for not getting it, and on the other end of things, it's pretty rare (even on a replay where you know everything!) to feel like "what the hell, why aren't they realizing [x]?!" because generally, if you're able to piece something together, so are the characters, and they'll usually ask for relevant information the first chance they get.

the mystery is absurd, but as i said, perfectly self-contained. probably every single chapter gives you at least one key piece of information about the central mystery, even if you won't always realize it right away. funny throw-away lines have meaning. characters will do things that make you go "huh, i guess that was just for plot convenience" that turn out to have legitimate and relevant reasons of their own. ghost trick is a "don't look anything up before you play" game for many reasons.

play ghost trick!!!

[sporesgalaxy]

I HEARD WE WERE SHARING DANNY PHANTOM OCS FOR @dpocparadeevent AND I CAME RUNNING AS FAST AS I COULD!!!!!! BEHOLD, FAN FAVORITE CANON CHARACTER (lying),

SILENCE ALEXANDER

Silence is a ghost librarian who roams the Ghost Zone and the living world in order to learn everything there is to know about ghosts!

Age: ~150yrs

Height: short

Sexuality: Bisexual

Gender: Bisexual*

Powers: pyromancy, smoke-mancy, book summoning, encyclopedic knowledge of ectobiology and ghost history, and also literally possesses multiple encyclopedias about those things. She wrote most of them.

Weaknesses: water, her own hubris, emotional constipation, Vlad Masters who said that? must've been the wind...

•••

Silence keeps a massive hoarde of unique books and strange artifacts in her library inside the Ghost Zone. She will even lend these books and artifacts...in exchange for information of equal value! Plus, whatever info you offer isn't safe from being traded with others just as readily, should someone have a worthwhile offer for it! If someone uses that information to hurt you, then that isn't Silence's problem.

She uses one such artifact to disguise herself and traverse the human world. She is completely unable to use any ghost powers while disguised, but she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she can almost forget she's a ghost at all...except that she can't taste or feel things the same way a human could.

She's very knowledgeable, but sometimes her pessemistic biases lead her to draw questionable conclusions. She assumes that all ghosts are fundamentally self-serving-- which means there's nothing wrong with her being selfish too!

PLOT INVOLVEMENT:

Silence met Vlad in the 90s, and was beyond thrilled that an unprecedented creature like a Halfa could exist. They got along like a house on fire and made it everyone else's problem for a year or so.

Then Silence suddenly disappeared, leaving Vlad with unfettered access to her many, many resources. How strange...

Silence reappeared 10 years later (during the events of the show) and wasted no time getting petty revenge by setting Vlad's mansion on fire.

She's not satisfied with just destroying his belongings, though. Silence also makes a point to befriend the Fenton family in disguise, using them to catch up on the years of research she missed.

Danny catches on almost immediately, but Silence is able to win him over with promises of Ghost Zone knowledge and dirt on Vlad. She seems to know a little more about Vlad than a "former business partner" should, but hey, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? And Danny doesn't have a lot of friends in the Ghost Zone.

Unfortunately, Danny will go on to learn that Silence is actually friends with most of his OTHER enemies, because Silence firmly believes that the ends justify the means when it comes to getting her hands on valuable information.

Even her and Vlad's mutual hatred seems a little, um...layered. Not that either of them will ever admit it.

Silence does not consider herself evil or underhanded, just...driven to succeed. She firmly believes that everything she does is necessary, and serves the greater good of scientific advancement.

Silence lived a very lonely human life and died feeling irrelevant and replaceable. She sees a kindred spirit in Vlad, which is both attractive and infuriating. She was deeply in love with Vlad during their time together in the 90s, but she refused to tell him and he was blinded by his focus on Maddie as usual. Vlad's betrayal reinforced Silence's pessemistic worldview and her unwillingness to be honest or vulnerable with others. Somehow, though, it didn't completely get rid of her crush on him...much to her continued chagrin.

---

BET YOU FORGOT ABOUT THAT ASTERISK. BUT I DIDN'T.

*Gender: Bisexual -- Antiquated version of the term that she still likes & identifies as. Similar to being bigender or genderfluid. Most people default to she/her and Silence doesn't really care.

---

Blorbo!

[ziorre]

✨Commission info✨

New year, new art pieces! I'm ready, I'm rested, I'm refreshed! And I'm completely charged to take care of your new ideas and characters!! I truly believe that every character is awesome and original and deserves to be shown with their own story! And I'll try to help you with this in a way that is more convenient for you! You just pick one below ;)

✨ PRICES:

- SEMI-REALISTIC STYLE (for the cases, when you want it looks more real without much stylizing)

- USUAL STYLE (for the cases, when you don’t mind it looks more stylized and a lil sketchy)

- CONCEPT SHEET (for the cases, when you want to present your character, their outfit and props)

* you can find more examples on my page by the commission tag ** a helpful post describing a right order for your refs

✨ DEADLINES: After you DM me with a brief description of your idea, I’ll tell you the approximate date when I’ll be able to proceed with your commission

!!!!Always warn me in advance if I need to draw art by a certain deadline!!!

✨ PAYMENT:  What: USD or RUB When: full pre-payment (when you sent me the email and we approved the art idea) Where: Hypolink/Lava.top (russian platforms, support payment via PayPal)

✨ PROCESS: You write to me in private messages on Tumblr, briefly tell me your idea of our future art, what style and what slot you want (full body / half body / bust). Then I give you my email address and you send me an email (with your Tumblr name as the topic please) with all necessary references (your character's face claim, their pose, clothes, background etc.). You describe the idea of the art in details, where it takes place, and other things that I need to know so that I can base the sketch on all that info, because after you approve the sketch, I don’t change art much in the further stages of the work, just some details. I send you the payment link on my Boosty page. Send you the sketch. After you confirm that you like the sketch, I finish the work and send it on your email😊

✨ OTHER: - I don’t correct the art after you approved the finished version. - I don’t copy other artist’s work. - I publish every commission on my social media, if you don’t want it to be published, just let me know. - If you’re not sure about the art idea, I can suggest you 4 sketches with different poses/concepts/angles for extra $20 and you pick the one you like the most. - For significant corrections or a lot of small ones at any stage of work, an additional fee may be charged (this doesn’t apply to some small adjustments or details witch I missed). There are 3 free changes at the each stages of the work (sketch, finished version), further - $2-$5.

___________________________________

And of course I can't skip to say a huge thank you to those who commissioned and continue commissioning art from me! It means a lot! For real! This is not only material support, but also moral one, saying that I’m not wasting my time and energy in vain, that I’m moving in the right direction, that people like what I do! I can't tell how inspiring it is!! 350 commissions! I’ve never imagined that one day I would draw so many art for others! Just.. wow!! Thank you again so much for trusting me bringing to life your ideas! I truly appreciate it!😌

____________________________________

I think this is it, right? If you have any questions, feel free to DM me ;)  

I’ll be VERY grateful for your reblogs!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤ (and thank you very much for this in advance, it helps me A LOOOOOOOOOT, you are the ones who keep me alive literally! I see each and every one of you doing that! You’re the best!!!) Thanks for your attention! Have a good day =)

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | S E V E N

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Everything Wren thought she knew is unraveling and the only thing more dangerous than the enemy are those with life altering secrets.

Notes: Updates are going to be slower after this! I will still try to put at least one out a week but no guarantees! Thank you so much for the support on this series!

Warnings: panic attack/dissociation, betrayal, threats of death, terrible descriptions of battle, major character death

Word Count: 8.4k

previous part

“No. This isn’t real. This has to be some sick dream.”

The cry of a dragon echoed through my mind, shattering the silence of the night as the familiar figure of a red daggetail plummeted to the earth. My heart raced, a visceral fear clawing at my chest. 

“He’s gone,” Desa’s gentle voice brushed against our bond, a soothing balm that only deepened my desperation. I begged her to dive, to reach Liam before it was too late.

“Wrennie?” The sound of my name pulled me from the abyss. I met Liam’s concerned gaze, his dark eyes searching mine. “You okay?”

I must have looked pale, a specter of my usual self. This was my second vision in a month, a haunting pattern that left me feeling more vulnerable than ever. Twice now, I had watched Liam die—twice too many for a marked one like me. A cold dread settled in my stomach, and I struggled to mask my unease. 

“Fine.” My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears. “Just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Okay.” Liam's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. “Xaden wants to talk to you.”

I nodded, my gaze drifting past him to where Xaden stood, shrouded by the shadows of the rocks, his presence commanding and intense. 

“Something bad is going to happen.” His voice pierced through my mind, sending a chill down my spine as I made my way to him. 

“I know.” I sighed aloud, dread pooling in my gut as I reached his side. 

“What’d you see?” Xaden's instinctive question hung in the air, and I fought to keep the tears at bay, the weight of my visions pressing heavily upon me.

“Something we might not be able to stop, but I’m going to try.” The words spilled out before I could second-guess myself, and to my surprise, Xaden nodded, acceptance mingling with worry in his gaze.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, the gravity of his tone pulling me closer. “But I need you to understand that I made a lot of promises to a lot of people. That’s why I never told you before.”

“What are you talking about?” I searched his eyes, desperate to read the unspoken fears lurking beneath the surface.

“I—” He hesitated, and I could see the moment his bond with Sgaeyl tightened, urgency radiating off him. “Fuck, I thought I had more time.” The frustration in his voice was palpable. “Trust me, please.” 

“What’s going on?” 

The air was thick with tension, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as the reality of the situation settled over me like a heavy cloak. 

“General Sorrengail’s youngest? This is a treat.” The voice was both startling and oddly familiar, echoing around the rocky outcropping as I strained to place it. My pulse quickened, and I exchanged a worried glance with Xaden, who had stepped closer.

As we rounded the jagged rocks, a breathtaking sight unfolded before us: a pair of gryphon flyers stood a few yards away, their majestic forms adorned with gleaming feathers that caught the light of the fading sun. I instinctively reached for one of my blades, the cool steel a reassuring presence against my palm, but before I could draw it, Xaden's hand clamped down around my wrist, grounding me with urgency.

“You’re fucking early.” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes locked on the flyers with a fierce intensity that made my heart plummet. The calmness in his tone clashed with the tension radiating from his body. “What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment.”

“The shipment isn’t the issue,” the woman replied, shaking her head, her features illuminated by the dimming light.

“Syrena?” The name slipped from my lips in shock as I finally caught a clear glimpse of the female flyer, her face a mix of relief and confusion. 

“Holy shit, Wren, you’re actually alive?” Syrena exclaimed, pulling me into an unexpected hug. I froze, every fiber of my being alert and uncertain as the warmth of her embrace enveloped me.

“What are you doing here? What shipment are you talking about?” I managed to stammer as she pulled back, bewilderment clouding her features.

“You don’t know?” Her question hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and looming, as she looked to Xaden.

“Xay?” I turned to look at him, seeking answers, but he avoided my gaze, his expression unreadable, as if bracing himself for the worst.

“I wanted to tell you,” he murmured, desperation creeping into his tone.

“Tell me what?” I stepped back from his outstretched hand, the distance between us suddenly feeling larger than ever.

“We’ve been supplying the drifts with alloy daggers to fight venin,” Xaden replied, his words hanging heavy in the space between us. “From Basgiath’s forge.”

“You what?” Confusion swirled within me, battling with a surge of emotions I couldn’t fully articulate. Am I angry? Am I upset? Impressed?

“I told you she’d react like this.” Garrick’s soft laughter broke the tension, but it only served to ignite the fire within me as I snapped my gaze towards him.

“You knew!” I accused, the realization crashing down around me like a tidal wave. “You’ve been helping? Do you realize how dangerous this is? What if you got caught?”

Xaden stepped closer, his expression earnest, almost pleading. “Wren—”

“How long have you been lying to me?” My voice was laced with betrayal, a bitter edge sharpening my words as I returned my glare to him. “How long have all of you been lying to me?” I turned, surveying my friends as they shifted uncomfortably, shame flickering in their eyes, leaving me feeling more isolated than ever.

“Since I turned 18,” Xaden's voice broke through the turmoil, and I could hear the tremor in his words, a fragile thread of sincerity struggling to pull through the weight of my disbelief. I gaped at him, the truth washing over me in waves, each one crashing against the shore of my understanding. 

“The whole time?” I echoed, my voice rising in pitch, incredulity spilling from my lips like water from a cracked dam. As if in slow motion, I turned my gaze to Garrick and Bodhi, who had shifted closer to Xaden, their faces painted with concern, yet tinged with guilt. “The whole time!” The words came out like a wounded animal's cry, raw and desperate.

In the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of Violet standing beside Liam, her expression mirroring my own shock, the two of us bound by the same tangled web of betrayal. She had trusted them just as I had, and now, as our eyes met, I saw the flicker of hurt reflected back at me. We were both casualties of their silence.

“Wren—” Xaden began, his tone softening as if trying to breach the chasm that had opened between us, but I couldn’t bear to hear him out.

“Fuck you!” I spat and turned on my heel, storming past, the ground seeming to tremble beneath my fury. 

“Did you know?” I demanded, my voice steady as I faced Desa, the massive blue dragon who had watched over me for years. Her eyes held a depth of wisdom that made my heart ache even more. 

“Youngling.” Her voice was low, like the rumble of distant thunder, and the single word hung in the air between us, answer enough but I need the truth.

“Did you know what they were doing?” I pressed, my frustration bubbling over, refusing to let the question slide. I needed answers, but the intensity of my glare was met with an unwavering calm. 

“Yes.” Her admission struck me like a physical blow, leaving me reeling as I took a step back. I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter as I turned away, retreating toward Athebyne.

With each stride, I felt the air around me grow thick with the weight of my emotions—betrayal, anger, confusion—melding into a storm brewing within my chest. Flying to Athebyne would take about thirty minutes from the lake, but with the way my breathing was already uneven, I knew it would take me over an hour. I could feel the jagged edges of my shields rising around me, fortifying my mind against the chaos. Xaden’s door was locked tightly in my thoughts, a silent promise that I wouldn’t let anyone inside—because right now, no one on this team had ever told me the truth, and I couldn’t bear to be near them. 

I can see the front gates of the familiar outpost looming ahead, their weathered stone and iron frame a bastion of memories, both comforting and painful. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the landscape, but its beauty feels hollow as I hear the unmistakable sound of powerful wing beats from behind me.

“Wrenley, just stop for a minute!” Xaden’s voice pierces the air, filled with urgency as I know he’s sliding down Sgaeyl’s side. My heart quickens at the sound, a wild mixture of anger and betrayal surging within me.

“I’ll leave for Eltuval in the morning!” I shout back, the determination in my voice echoing off the stone walls as I push myself to walk faster, the ground beneath me blurring into a streak of dirt and grass. 

“You’re not leaving!” His voice grows louder, a mix of desperation and frustration, and the moment I sense him close behind, I break off into a sprint. “Damnit, Wren! Just stop!”

“Why? So you can lie to me some more?” I snap, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension hanging in the air. I turn abruptly, my eyes locking onto his, the intensity of my gaze brimming with accusation. “So I can continuously be shown that I shouldn’t trust you?”

“You can trust me.” His response is soft, but the weight of the moment feels anything but gentle.

“Can I?” I challenge, my heart thundering as I reel off the questions that claw at my insides, desperate for answers that may never come. “Where were you for the two years before you went to Basgiath?”

“I was…” He trails off, his words hanging in the air like smoke from a dying fire, leaving an emptiness that chills me to the bone.

I scoff, turning back around with a heavy heart, the outpost now beckoning like a siren, its familiarity a cruel reminder of the trust I once held. 

“Wren?” Garrick’s voice calls out, an attempt to halt my retreat as I push through the gates, the sound of creaking wood punctuating my resolve. 

I don’t dare give him a response, my gaze fixed firmly on the floor, each step weighted with the burden of betrayal as I walk straight for the briefing room. 

“Look at me.” Bodhi’s voice cuts through the haze, his grip on my arm pulling me into the shadows of an alcove, sheltering us from the chaos outside. “You can be mad. You can cry, scream, I’ll even let you hit me. But you cannot shut us out.”

“You’ve all been risking your lives, keeping secrets for years.” The adrenaline from the confrontation begins to fade, replaced by a heavy sorrow that sinks deep into my chest. “I was still believing venin was a myth, a way to get us to behave as kids, but you all knew. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” A tear escapes, a silent testament to my shattered trust. “You were my best friend, Bodhi. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Xaden has to explain that, Princess.” The playful nickname slips off Bodhi’s tongue, and I huff a laugh, my voice echoing off the cold, stone walls of the hall. It’s been almost a year since either he or Garrick dared to use that term, a remnant of our childhood that now feels achingly distant. The corners of my mouth twitch into a smile, but it quickly fades as I remember the weight of the present. “I promise, if it was my story to tell I would.”

“They’re actually real?” The words escape my lips in a breathy gasp, the desperate hope that this is all just a misunderstanding clinging to my heart like a fragile thread. I look to Bodhi, pleading silently for him to dismiss my fears.

“They are. All of the attacks we studied in Battle Brief were the drifts getting alloy daggers, and the classified ones were possibly venin attacks.” His words cut through my apprehension, a stark confirmation that sends a shiver down my spine. The truth hangs heavy in the air, filling the silence with an uncomfortable tension. “We can only go off what the flyers tell us during drops, which is never enough.”

I nod, my mind racing, and glance around the hall, its emptiness suddenly suffocating. “Where is everyone?” I ask, anxiety creeping into my tone.

“I’m sure Xaden and them found the commander and are getting room assignments.” Bodhi shrugs, but the casualness of his tone feels misplaced.

“No,” I interject sharply, the instinctual unease prickling my skin. I move swiftly through the hall, turning to scan the shadows that loom in the corners. “Athebyne, on average, has two riots of twelve riders each, six healers, and four scribes, plus infantry. How have we not seen a single person besides each other?” 

I turn back to Bodhi, watching as the realization dawns on him. 

“They emptied it,” he murmurs, his brow furrowing.

“It’s a trap,” I conclude, urgency propelling me forward as I rush back out to the main courtyard, the chill of dread settling deep within my bones.

“Wren, can we please talk?” Xaden’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of my thoughts, and I halt, a mix of anger and disbelief flooding my senses.

“No, Xay—”

“I know you're mad, and I’m sorry, but I promised.”

“Xaden!” I cut him off, forcing him to meet my gaze, the gravity of my words hanging heavy between us. “Athebyne’s been emptied. We’re the only ones here.” 

“Everyone stop!” His command slices through the air, and I can feel the tension coiling in the courtyard as all eyes turn to him, the realization of danger palpable in the stillness. “Divide and search.” He pivots to me and Violet. “Do not leave my side. I don’t think this is a War Game.”

“Awesome.” Violet mutters, her voice dripping with skepticism as she crosses her arms defensively. We trail behind Xaden, the air growing increasingly tense, with Liam not far behind us. “This is one of the most strategic garrisons we man. There’s no way they’d abandon it for War Games.” Her eyes dart around, scanning the ancient stone walls that have withstood countless storms and conflicts.

“That’s the problem, Violet.” I groan, frustration weighing heavy on my chest. Memories flood my mind, vivid as the hues of dusk settling over the horizon. “My parents were stationed here for 10 years; they never cleaned this place out.” The dust-laden corners and the eerie silence seem to whisper secrets of the past, unsettling in their implications.

“What did Dain say to you before we left?” Xaden’s voice breaks through my reverie as we ascend the spiral staircase leading to the top of the Southwest tower. His tone carries an undercurrent of urgency, forcing Violet to focus. “He leaned in and whispered something.”

“He said something like… I’ll miss you, Violet.” Her reply is hesitant, yet laced with lingering affection. 

“And he said I was going to get you killed.” The weight of those words hangs in the air, and my stomach churns at the thought.

“Yes, but he always says that.” Violet rolls her eyes, trying to brush off the dread that looms in the shadows. 

“Liam, can you see the trading post?” I pivot, the urgency within me spurring me to act. I turn my back on the uncomfortable conversation, seeking clarity.

“On it.” Liam’s voice is steady as he strides to the battlement, his silhouette framed by the twilight sky. He leans over, eyes narrowing as he activates his farsight, searching for answers.

“What would Dain have to do with emptying an entire outpost?” Violet’s question pulls me back, the uncertainty churning within me anew. I glance between them, desperation clawing at my insides.

“Did you do most of your drops here?” I ask Xaden, watching as he nods, concern etched across his features. 

“Who knew you were coming out here?” My heart races, the implications too chilling to consider. 

“Bodhi, Garrick, myself and…” He trails off, his gaze drifting to Violet, and a heavy silence circles us. 

“Violet?” I probe, sensing something amiss, but he doesn’t respond. “Did you tell Dain about the trips?” My voice trembles with urgency.

“No!” She retorts defiantly, then turns to Xaden, the tension simmering. “Unlike some people, I never hid anything from you.”

“Violet,” he says softly, the weight of his words pressing down on us, “did Aetos touch you after I told you about Athebyne?” 

“What?” The confusion in her voice mirrors the anxiety that’s spiraled within me. 

“Like this.” Xaden lifts a hand to her cheek, a gesture both tender and alarming. “His power requires touching someone’s face. Did he touch you like this?” 

“I thought it had to be both hands?” My heart races, a foreboding instinct flaring to life as I watch their exchange. 

“Just the one.” Xaden’s gaze remains locked on Violet, the intensity of his stare pulling the tension taut in the air between them. It’s as if an unseen current courses through the courtyard, charged with unspoken fears that threaten to spill over. The shadows cast by the setting sun lengthen, darkening the stone walls around us, amplifying the weight of the moment.

“Violet?” His voice is edged with concern, a thread of desperation weaving through his words.

“Yes, but that’s how he always touches me. He would n-never…” Her response falters, laced with uncertainty as she instinctively steps out of his hold, the warmth of his palm lingering on her skin like a ghost. “I would know if he read my memories.” Her eyes glisten with defiance, yet a flicker of doubt dances behind them.

Xaden’s expression crumbles, the flicker of hope extinguished as his hand falls away from her cheek. “No, trust me, you wouldn’t.” The finality in his voice sends a chill down my spine, echoing the deeper truth that coils around us like a serpent.

You wouldn’t know if he read your memories. The thought gnaws at me, unsettling and invasive. My mind races back to moments shared with Dain, his hand pressing against my cheek with an intimacy that now feels tainted. How many times did he linger in that manner after my training? Oh gods.

“He knows.” My voice trembles as I take a step back, retreating until my back meets the cold, unyielding stone of the battlement. The air feels thick, suffocating, and the reality of our predicament weighs heavily on my chest. “Oh gods, he knows.”

Xaden locks eyes with me, but before he can even voice his concern, Garrick shoves a missive into Xaden’s hands, breaking the moment's intensity. 

“It’s addressed to you,” Garrick says, urgency etched on his features.

I watch as Xaden breaks the seal, the crisp crack of parchment slicing through the tension. A second letter falls from within, fluttering like a wounded bird. Garrick quickly scoops it up while Xaden reads, his complexion paling with each line that dances before his eyes.

“It’s for you, Wren.” Garrick’s hand extends toward me, and I barely manage to grasp the paper, the world narrowing into a singular focus.

Cadet Wrenley Tavis, Executive Officer of Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.

As I break the seal and unfold the letter, the ground beneath me seems to quake, the words within threatening to pull me into an abyss from which there may be no return.

Cadet Tavis,

You can imagine my shock upon learning that you’ve been keeping not one but two signets secret for almost 2 years. An intinnsic and a precog, a dangerous pair. 

Should you live through the task assigned to your Wingleader, you are to report to my office immediately. Should you not, well, that's one less problem to worry about.

May Malek condemn your soul.

Colonel Aetos

The world around me fades into a muted blur, the edges of my reality softening as I stare at the letter clutched in my trembling hands. The parchment crinkles under the pressure of my grip, the inked words dancing before my eyes like phantoms in a fever dream. I can hear the murmur of voices rising and falling around me, but they seem distant, swallowed by the weight of the revelation that settles like a stone in my gut. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

The mantra echoes in my mind, a desperate chant against the inevitable tide that threatens to engulf me. Each repetition is a plea, a refusal to accept the stark reality laid out before me. 

“Oh shit.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the haze, laced with a tension that coils tighter around my chest. The sound of paper crumpling reaches my ears, grounding me momentarily, but it only serves to amplify the fear coursing through me. “It says our mission is to survive if we can.”

A shadow of disbelief flits across the courtyard, mingling with the fading light of day. “That’s not…” Garrick begins, his voice trailing off as if the words themselves are too heavy to bear.

“Guys, this is bad,” Liam shouts, urgency cracking through the air like thunder, and I hear the shuffling of feet as someone moves closer. Yet, I remain rooted in place, my gaze fixated on the letter, my mind racing as it grapples with the implications. 

“We’ve been sent here to die.” Xaden’s tone is grave, and the gravity of his words sinks like a stone into the depths of my heart. The breath catches in my throat, a jagged gasp that feels like an echo of my despair. 

I’m drowning in the suffocating realization; no matter how I twist and turn the situation in my mind, the conclusion remains the same. Leadership knows the truth, and with it comes the certainty of my death. Panic unfurls within me, clawing at the edges of my sanity as the world tilts dangerously off its axis.

“Wrenley?” Bodhi’s voice breaks through the fog, and I blink, trying to pull myself from the depths of my thoughts. His face looms in front of me, concern etching deep lines across his brow, but I am paralyzed. The words of the letter echo relentlessly, drowning out everything else, leaving me voiceless and trapped in a cage of my own making.

I can’t move. I can’t talk. The air feels thick, constricting around my lungs, each shallow breath a reminder of the looming threat that now hangs over us like a dark cloud. The chill of reality seeps into my bones, and for a moment, I wish for nothing more than to slip away, to escape the impending storm.

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“Xaden!”

“Deep breaths, Little Bird.” 

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“What is she saying?” 

“What happened, Love?”

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“No harm will come to you.”

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

“Wren?” 

“Garrick, get her to Desa.” 

“Love, you need to go with him.” The urgency in Xaden's voice resonates through the suffocating air, but my head shakes instinctively, a reflex against the tumultuous reality that encircles us. The world around me seems to warp and sway, as if I’m caught in the eye of a storm, the chaos pulling at my very essence.

Xaden stands before me, yet he feels altered, a shadow of the man I hold dear. His once-striking gold-flecked onyx eyes—those warm orbs that always spoke of comfort and unwavering strength—now seem to smolder with a darker hue, rimmed in crimson. Red veins snake across his temples, pulsing ominously as if they are alive, echoing the frantic beating of my heart.

“Xay?” My voice trembles, feeling foreign as it escapes my lips. I stretch a hesitant hand toward his cheek, craving the familiar warmth that once anchored me, but now I am met with an unsettling chill that sends shivers racing down my spine.

“You should’ve listened, my life.” The words twist out of him, distorted and sharp, a haunting melody that reverberates in my mind. Before I can fully process the change, his hand clamps around my arm, and I watch in horror as the vibrant color of my skin dulls under his grip, a shadow washing over my very being.

In an instant, he shifts back to himself, the turbulence in his eyes still reflecting a worry that penetrates deeper than the very ground beneath us. My breath steadies, but the unease lingers, an unwelcome guest in the back of my mind. 

“Garrick’s going to take you somewhere safe, okay?” His voice softens, yet the urgency remains, a plea wrapped in concern. 

“No.” The word feels like an anchor as I finally force myself to speak. “I have to change it.” Understanding flickers across Xaden’s face, a fleeting connection that grounds us amidst the chaos, before he turns to the others.

“The letter says this is a test of your command." Garrick grips the crumpled letter, his brows furrowing as he reads, "You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension, urgency woven into every word. 

“They’re testing our loyalty without actually saying it.” Xaden folds his arms over his chest, his posture rigid, a sentinel against the encroaching chaos. The stark sunlight gleams off the ink of the missive he holds, casting jagged shadows on the ground. “According to the missive, if we leave now, we’ll make it to the new location of headquarters for Fourth Wing at Eltuval in time to carry out our orders for War Games. But if we leave, the trading post of Resson and its occupants will be destroyed.”

“By what?” Imogen’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife, urgency threading through her words. She leans closer, her brows knitting in concern.

“Venin,” Liam interjects, his tone grave, as if the very name itself carries the weight of a death sentence.

“You’re positive?” Xaden’s gaze sharpens, searching Liam’s face for any sign of doubt. 

Liam nods, resolute. “As sure as I can be without having actually seen them before. Four of them. Purple robes. Distended red veins spidering all around bright red eyes. Creepy as shit.” 

“Sounds about right,” Xaden mutters, shifting his weight, the tension coiling tighter around him like an invisible noose. 

“I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons,” Bodhi mutters under his breath, his words a low rumble of discontent. 

“Oh, and one guy with a giant-ass staff,” Liam continues, his voice rising with an urgent fervor. “And I swear to Dunne, one second the plain was clear, and the next, they were just…there, walking toward the gates.” His wide eyes reflect the fear clawing at the edges of their reality, pupils dilated as he uses his signet to pierce the depths of the valley below.

“Red veins?” Imogen’s inquiry hangs in the air, dread creeping into her voice.

“Because magic corrupts their blood as they lose their souls,” Violet murmurs, her gaze fixed on Xaden with a steady calm that seems almost eerie against the backdrop of chaos. “Nature likes everything in balance. If the fables are true, at least.” She adds when everyone turns to her, her voice a soft balm amidst the rising storm.

How she is so calm right now is mind-boggling. Even if I hadn’t learned that Aetos is plotting my death, I’d still feel a step away from completely losing it.

“You almost did,” Desa interjects, her tone a gentle reminder, albeit a cutting one.

“Thank you, Desa, for the gentle reminders of my shortcomings,” I retort, the sarcasm barely masking my fraying nerves.

“Not shortcomings, Wise One. These moments will make you stronger,” she replies, her words laced with an ancient wisdom that feels like a distant echo.

“The guy with the staff just—” Liam begins again, but the sudden blast of an explosion rings out, echoing ominously up the sparsely treed valley, followed by a plume of blue smoke that rises like a malevolent specter into the sky. “Those were the gates,” he finishes, his voice hollow, the reality of their situation crashing down around them.

“How many people live in Resson?” Bodhi asks. 

“More than three hundred,” Imogen answers.

“That’s the post they do the yearly trades at,” I add, the weight of the truth hanging heavily in the air, a bitter taste on my tongue. Images of traders, children, and families flicker through my mind, faces I’ve seen countless times over the years, now on the brink of annihilation.

“Then let’s get down there,” Bodhi urges, his impatience palpable, his resolve morphing into action. He pivots on his heel, the urgency in his voice a desperate plea. But Xaden, stepping back with a commanding presence, halts him with an outstretched hand, a barrier of authority meant to shield them all from reckless decisions. “You’re kidding me, right?” Bodhi’s incredulity bursts forth, his frustration crackling in the tense atmosphere like a live wire.

“We have no idea what we’re walking into,” Xaden responds, his tone brokering no argument, slipping seamlessly into full wingleader mode. His eyes, usually warm and filled with laughter, now blaze with the cold fire of caution. 

“So we should just stand here while civilians die?” Bodhi counters, his voice rising, a mixture of anger and desperation intertwining with the urgency of the moment.

“You know that’s not what he’s saying, Bodhi,” I protest, my words quiet yet firm, still recovering from the panic that clawed at my throat moments before. 

“This isn’t a fucking training exercise, Bodhi,” Xaden interjects, his voice steady but edged with a harrowing truth. “Some—if not all—of us are going to die if we go down there.” A knowing look flickers in his eyes as he glances at me, a silent acknowledgment of the horrors we’ve faced. I can feel the weight of that shared knowledge, the images of loss pressing against my consciousness, threatening to drown me.

“If we’d been assigned to an active wing, there would be far older, more experienced leadership making this decision, but there aren’t. If we weren’t marked with rebellion relics, if we hadn’t been aiding the enemy”—his gaze darts to mine briefly, the implications heavy—“we wouldn’t even be here with this choice. So, all command structure aside, what are your thoughts?”

“We have the numbers,” Soleil asserts, her voice cutting through the tension, a glimmer of hope amidst the impending dread. “And air superiority.” 

“At least there aren’t any wyvern,” Violet adds, her eyes scanning the expansive sky, searching for any sign of the mythical creatures.

“Uh. What?” Bodhi’s eyebrows rise, confusion mingling with disbelief.

“Wyvern. Fables say venin created them to compete with dragons and, instead of channeling from them, channel power into them,” Violet explains, her voice laced with an unsettling calmness. 

“Yeah, let’s not borrow trouble,” Xaden shoots a sideways look at Violet before returning his gaze to the heavens, wary of the unseen dangers lurking above. 

“There are four venin and ten of us,” Garrick interjects, stepping away from the edge of the battlement, the gravity of their situation settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

“We have the weapons to kill them,” Liam states resolutely, turning his back on the valley, his voice strong against the tide of uncertainty. “And Deigh told me seven gryphon fliers—”

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a deep orange hue over the battlement as Syrena emerged from the shadows of the southeastern corner, her presence a stark contrast to the encroaching chaos. 

“We’re here,” she announces. Her gaze drifted beyond the rampart, where plumes of smoke danced ominously against the twilight sky, curling up like tendrils of despair from the valley below.

“I left the rest of the drift outside once we noticed…” Her voice faltered momentarily, her shoulders dipping under the burden of her words. “…that your outpost seems to be… abandoned.” A heavy silence followed, the gravity of her statement settling in the air like a dark fog. She turned her gaze back to us, her eyes filled with a melancholy wisdom. “I’m not going to ask you to fight with us.”

“You’re not?” Garrick’s brows knitted together in disbelief, his voice barely above a whisper, an ember of hope flickering in his chest.

“No.” The sad smile that graced her lips spoke volumes, a bittersweet acceptance of the cruel realities before us. “Four of them is tantamount to a death sentence. The rest of my drift are making peace with our gods.” Her voice cracked slightly as she directed her attention to Xaden. “I came to tell you to leave. You have no clue what they’re capable of wielding. It only took two of them to bring down an entire city last month. Two. Of. Them.” Her voice hardened, and her eyes glinted with unshed tears. “We lost two drifts trying to stop them. If there are four down there…” She shook her head, the motion imbued with the weight of countless battles lost. “They’re after something, and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your riot and go home while you can.”

“If we don’t help, everyone dies,” I implored, the words spilling forth from a place of deep-seated conviction. “Syrena, let us help.”

“We have dragons,” Imogen chimed in, her voice rising with a fierce determination that hung heavy in the air. “Surely that has to count for something. We’re not afraid to fight.” 

“Are you afraid to die? Have any of you seen combat?” Syrena’s voice sliced through the thick tension. The question lingered, hauntingly quiet, as the weight of truth settled upon us. No one could answer. Even the third years had merely watched from the sidelines, untouched by the horrors that awaited. “Thought not. Your dragons do count for something. They can fly you far and fast. Dragon fire won’t kill them. Only the daggers you’ve been bringing, and we have those.” 

She met Xaden’s gaze, gratitude shining through her weary expression. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. You’ve kept us alive these last couple of years and given us a fighting chance.”

“You’re going down there to die,” Xaden says matter-of-factly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife through fog. The gravity of his words weighs heavily upon us, each syllable infused with a stark reality that no one can ignore. 

“Yes.” Syrena’s affirmation is resolute, a solemn nod punctuated by the distant sound of another explosion reverberating across the valley. The air crackles with the tension of impending doom as she turns, the fabric of her cloak swirling around her like a tempest, her posture unyielding as she strides back down the rampart, head held high. 

Xaden’s jaw clenched tightly, muscles taut with the weight of his conflicting emotions, the battle raging within his eyes. 

“I won’t leave,” I declare to Desa.

“Sgaeyl and I feel the same.” Desa’s voice breaks through, steady and unwavering.

“Sgaeyl says she has never run from a fight, and today will not be the first. And I’m not going to stand by while innocent people are dying, either.” Xaden shakes his head, his expression a mixture of fierce resolve and protective caution. “But I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.”

“What deal?” I ask through our channel, my heart pounding in my chest, the urgency of the moment pressing down upon us like a lead weight.

“Live and I’ll tell you everything,” he replies, the promise hanging tantalizingly in the air.

“We’re riders,” Imogen interjects, her voice rising defiantly as another explosion shatters the silence. “We defend the defenseless. That’s what we do.” 

��You saved every single one of us here, cousin,” Bodhi adds, the gratitude in his tone underscored by an unwavering commitment. “And we’re thankful. Now, I’d like to do what we’ve trained for, and if it means I don’t go home, then I guess my soul will be commended to Malek. I wouldn’t mind seeing my mother anyway.” 

My heart aches at his words, for in this somber reality, the notion of dying for the right cause offers a bittersweet solace—if we perish today, perhaps we’d find peace in the embrace of those we’ve lost.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I did after Threshing our first year when we decided to start smuggling weaponry out,” Garrick says, his voice steady yet tinged with a familiarity that brings a sense of comfort. The weight of those memories hangs between us, a testament to our shared survival through the harsh trials we’ve faced. “You kept us alive all these years; we get to decide how we die. I’m with you.”

“You’ll tell me about Threshing too?” I ask, a knot of anticipation tightening in my chest.

“Everything, my love. No more secrets.” His eyes glimmer with a sincerity that calms the storm of uncertainty raging inside me.

“Exactly!” Soleil interjects, her fingers drumming against the hilt of the dagger sheathed at her thigh, the sharp sound echoing like a heartbeat amid the chaos of our decisions.

“I’m in.” Liam steps forward, resolute, positioning himself firmly by my side. “We watched as our parents were executed because they had the courage to do the right thing. I’d like to think my death would be just as honorable.” His words spill forth like molten steel, forged in the furnace of his grief and rage.

“Agreed.” Imogen nods, her fierce spirit evident in the set of her jaw. The solidarity we share ignites a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

One by one, our collective resolve solidifies until only Violet and I remain uncertain, caught in the tempest of choices laid before us. 

“I won’t stop you,” Xaden tells me, his voice low and edged with concern. “But I’d prefer you far away from here.” His protective instinct is palpable, a shield against the cruel fate that looms over us.

“My mom died on the wrong side of history,” I reply, the weight of my conviction anchoring my heart. “I won’t.”

“Violet?” Liam questions gently, the attention shifting to her, the lone soul untouched by rebellion until now. 

She studies each of us, her eyes darting back and forth as if weighing the gravity of our fate. As much as I’ve despised her presence since she joined our ranks, the thought of her perishing here feels insufferable. Keeping her alive could mean safeguarding Xaden as well.

“I’ve been defenseless, and now I’m a rider. Riders fight.” Her declaration rings out, a clarion call echoing our shared destiny. 

I watch Xaden’s expression shift through a kaleidoscope of emotions, his concern for Violet battling against the fierce loyalty he carries for us all. In this moment of uncertainty, I cling to the flicker of hope he once offered, knowing that it’s that very light that can guide us through the encroaching darkness.

“Liam. Give me a report,” Xaden commands, his voice cutting through the tension, a beacon of direction amid our collective determination. 

As the plan unfolds, everyone will focus on the Venin threat and the imperative task of evacuating civilians, while Garrick and I watch from the skies, providing recon while I have the silent permission to alter our course if need be. 

“The only way to take them out is by dagger,” Xaden reminded the group, the gravity of our mission pressing down upon us like an impending storm.

“That means we’ll have to dismount and fight once we get the townspeople to whatever safety we can find,” Garrick adds, his expression set in grim lines, each word a reminder of the peril we’re choosing to face.

Xaden nods, the weight of leadership settling on his shoulders. “Save as many people as you can. Let’s go.”

Everything happens so fast, a relentless tide crashing over us. One moment, I’m focused intently on relaying vital information to Xaden, our words barely cutting through the cacophony of chaos surrounding us. The air is thick with tension, anticipation crackling like static electricity in the atmosphere. Then, without warning, a streak of red blazes through the sky, hurtling towards Tairn and Violet. My heart leaps into my throat, a primal instinct screaming danger.

“Liam!” I shout, urgency lacing my voice as I watch Tairn and Deigh besieged by a swarm of wyverns, their monstrous forms slicing through the air with razor-sharp talons. The world narrows to a singular focus. “I need you!” I call for Xaden. 

“I’m hunting the Venin at the walls!” Xaden’s voice cuts through the din, laced with determination and fear. 

“Please,” I responded, desperation rising like bile in my throat.

“If I leave, these civilians are all dead!” Xaden insists, his resolve hard as iron. “You can do this!”

The weight of his words strikes me deep. I can do this. Adrenaline surges through my veins, igniting a fierce fire in my heart. “We need to get the wyverns away from Deigh!” I urge Desa, who nods without hesitation, her wings unfurling as she dives toward the incoming beast.

Tairn is desperately trying to shake off the wyvern clinging to Deigh, its talons embedded deep in his scales, but his efforts seem futile against the creature’s relentless onslaught. 

“Deigh!” Liam’s voice rings out, a sound that sends icy fear swirling through my chest.

“Hold on, Liam, please!” I cry, pouring every ounce of my heart into our shared connection, hoping he can feel my desperation.

“Wren?” he gasps, his voice strained.

“We’re on our way!” Xaden's reassurance filters through, but even Desa’s fierce determination can't mask the dread pooling in my stomach. 

“It’s too late.”

And then, the piercing shriek fills the air, a harbinger of dread that will haunt my every nightmare. “DEIGH!” I feel Desa’s mourning echo in the very marrow of my bones. 

“We’re too late,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I watch Violet rush toward Deigh’s fallen body. Desa lands beside me, and I slide off, running to Violet, who struggles to keep Liam’s weakening form upright. They stumble, and I dive to his side, the world blurring around me. 

“Wrennie,” he coughs, and my heart shatters. 

“I’m here,” I say, grasping his hand, the warmth slipping away.

“You were…” His voice falters, and I feel like I'm choking on the weight of the moment as I gaze up at Violet. Her face, streaked with tears, radiates despair as she cradles Liam’s other hand. “You were in my head, like Deigh could.”

“Yea, Li. It’s my signet,” I reply, letting out a heavy sigh, ignoring Violet’s reaction to my words.

“That’s cool.” He manages to force out a laugh, but it’s riddled with pain, a sound that twists like a knife in my heart. “Take care of Sloane for me, both of you?”

“No.” Violet’s voice trembles, her shock morphing into fervent denial as she tears her gaze from me, a lifeline slipping through her fingers. “You’ll be there. You have to be there.”

“Promise me, Wrennie.” Liam’s focus shifts to me, his eyes reflecting a vulnerability that makes my heart ache. “She’ll need someone. Just… don’t let her be alone.”

“I promise.” A tear escapes, trailing down my cheek. “I got her, Li.”

“Good. That’s good.” He forces a weak smile, the dimple that usually brings warmth now a ghost of joy that fades far too quickly. “And I know you feel betrayed, but Xaden needs you. Please hear him out.”

“Okay,” I nod, swallowing the lump of conflicting emotions lodged in my throat. “I can’t promise I won’t stab him though.”

“I’m counting on it.” His sigh resonates in the tense air, a rattle that pierces the silence with its fragility. “Just show him you're still here.” 

He turns to Violet, whose cries grow louder, each sob echoing the grief that hangs heavy around us as I feel the pulse beneath Liam's skin start to slow.

“Thank you, Liam. Thank you for being my shadow. Thank you for being my friend.” The words tumble out, imbued with the depth of our shared memories, each moment a thread in the tapestry of our lives.

“It’s been… my honor.” The wind picks up, swirling around us as if trying to carry away the sorrow, but it only amplifies the cries of Xaden as he approaches, despair etched into his features. 

“No, Liam.”

“Deigh,” Liam pleads with Xaden, who quickly moves to lift him, a fierce determination in his eyes. 

“I know, brother. I’ll take you.”

In that moment, I push back into Liam’s mind, desperately seeking the door, the void beyond fading with each beat of his heart. I force forward the bright moments, clinging to the essence of who he is as I watch Xaden lower him to Deigh’s shoulder, my heart heavy with the weight of impending loss.

I pull the memories from when his mother would bring him to Aretia on her visits, each recollection flooding my mind like the gentle rush of a stream. I can almost feel the sun-drenched warmth of those days, the laughter echoing through the vibrant halls of Xaden’s home, a place that once felt so safe. How the five of us—Garrick, Bodhi, Xaden, Liam, and I—would race through those corridors, our feet barely touching the ground as we chased after fleeting moments of joy. The fields outside were a canvas of green, where we’d tumble and play, the scent of wildflowers dancing in the air, our shouts mingling with the whispers of the wind.

The late nights when Liam and I would huddle in the library, pages turning like the fluttering of wings as we devoured every book we could find. Garrick and Xaden would eventually have to carry us to our rooms when we fell asleep by the hearth. Those last days together before I left, where every laugh, every smile, every hug seemed to etch themselves into the very fabric of my heart, now echo in the silence around us.

I slowly walk to them, still pulling memories like fragile threads as I kneel beside Xaden. His arm wraps around me and Liam’s pale face, and for a fleeting moment, I swear it gets brighter, a soft glow of hope in the midst of despair. 

“Make up. For me.” He whispers, but I can sense the heaviness in his fading voice, a plea that carries the weight of his love. “I always wanted to find what you two have.” 

“We’ll work it out, brother. I promise.” Xaden’s voice wavers, and I hadn’t even realized he was crying until now, the tears mingling with the anguish in the air.

I nod along with Xaden’s promise. “Nothing could keep us apart.” The truth is, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back from this, but I’d say anything to put Liam at ease as I watch each of his breaths become a struggle against the inevitable.

We look up at the sound of wingbeats, the sky darkening with dozens of wyvern soaring overhead, a stark reminder of the battle that still looms. I turn my gaze back down, seeing Liam’s head lolled to the side, his eyes unblinking, and a surge of sorrow grips my heart. 

“Goodbye, Liam.” I cry, my voice cracking, as Xaden releases a heart-wrenching scream. I pull him into my arms, our shared grief spilling into the open air, raw and unyielding. “We have to finish this, Xay. For Liam.” 

“I can’t—” Xaden gasps, pulling back to look at me and then at Liam, torn between the present and the loss. “I can’t leave him.” 

“I’ll stay,” I promise. “Desa and I will keep the wyvern away, but you need to go help.” 

Xaden nods, determination hardening his features as he stands, pulling me up with him. “Stay alive. So we can talk.” His hand rests on my cheek, forcing me to look into his eyes, a silent vow passing between us. 

“You too.” I nod, the weight of his gaze anchoring me. 

With a gentle press of his lips to my forehead, Xaden sprints toward Violet and their dragons, the urgency of the moment propelling him forward. 

“Desa,” I start, but she’s already beside me, fierce and resolute. 

“No one gets to them.” 

“Garrick!” I call, my voice strained and raw, slicing through the aftermath of chaos as I watch the last wyvern crash to the earth in a plume of dust and blood. My heart beats heavily in my chest, each thud a reminder of the grief lingering in the corners of my mind, but the sight of my cousin sprinting toward me only brings relief.

“Wrenley!” He envelops me in his arms, and the rush of adrenaline that has fueled my every move finally begins to ebb, leaving me feeling as fragile as a dried leaf. The warmth of his embrace is a lifeline, a momentary sanctuary. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The words spill out, but they feel hollow as they hang in the air. My thoughts drift immediately to the bodies behind us. “Liam—”

“I know.” Garrick’s sigh is heavy with unspoken sorrow as he gently leads me toward Desa.

“Where’s Xaden?” My voice quivers, laced with anxiety as I search for him. The thought of him in danger sends a chill down my spine, a feeling I can’t shake.

“Violet was stabbed with a poison-covered knife.” Garrick's words strike like lightning, and my breath catches in my throat. “Since Sgaeyl is the fastest besides Tairn, he’s rushing her to the nearest healer. We’re going to meet him.” 

“And where is that?” The question slips out before I can filter my thoughts, desperation creeping into my tone, a thread of worry weaving through my heart.

“Home.” 

next part

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I had this pistachio cake and it was so good. I didn't know what else to put here but yum.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re shaking, barely able to keep your legs from collapsing beneath you. Even with Bucky’s arm around you, you’re weak. His confidence makes you feel even smaller; reminds you of who and what you really are. You’re not this. You’re not arm candy. You’re not some gorgeous supermodel. You’re just you. 

As you get to the end of the hall, you face the elevator and wait. His large hand squeezes your hip and he draws you even closer. He surprises you with a peck on your head. A thrill flows through you. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in this casino, baby,” he purrs and urges you through the doors as they open. 

You gulp and lean back into his arm as you step on, the transparent walls peering down on the drop. You try not to look and put your hand over his. You cling to his fingers and close your eyes, dizzy from the descent. 

“Ah, I forgot, doll,” he holds you even snugger, “Don’t worry, I got you. You stay close to me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you wisp out as the motion of the elevator adds to your displacement. 

When at last you reach the bottom, you nearly wriggle right out of his hold. He keeps you firmly against him and struts off with you at his side. He releases you only to hook his arm through yours. You cling to him if only to keep from tripping in the heels. 

You look down at yourself, recalling your attire as you pass a mirrored wall. You barely recognise the woman and yet it’s you. The make-up isn’t too heavy, your hair is perfectly done, and despite your frightened expression, you look good. Better than ever. Well, anything is an improvement over your typical aesthetic. 

You pass through the hotel lobby into the main room of the casino. The ringing of machines and flashing lights stun you. He stops with you and raises his chin proudly. To him, it’s just another night. For you, it’s a night you won’t ever forget; one you’ll never know again. 

“All of this is ours, doll,” he says. You wince at that word; ‘ours’. It’s a fantasy, he knows it. It must be what he tells all his women. 

You can only let a jitter shake you. He continues on and you follow. The chaos of the casino has you senseless. You drift through like his shadow as he pulls you along.  

Yet, you notice that you are not unseen. You feel the eyes all around you, you see them. Necks crane, bodies twists, and lips whisper. You’re overly aware that they’re watching you. No, they’re watching him. 

You feel ice form a shell over you. You numb yourself to it all as best you can. If you let yourself feel the storm brewing inside you, it will surely blow you over.  

Bucky stops you and winks at you. He reaches to rub your hand on his forearm and gives a squeeze, “relax. I got you. You trust me, don’t you?” 

You exhale and nod, “yes.” 

“Alright, then, doll,” he pulls his arm back and puts his hand on the small of your back, “let’s go.” 

He walks you along, a casual pace. The looks continue. People acknowledge him as he passes, the bartender calls him sir and several other staff. He approaches a table and you steel yourself nervously. Men in suits chuckle loudly as dice are thrown against the trim. 

“Stark,” Barnes stops beside a man with grey patches at his temple, “you didn’t bring your own dice again, did you?” 

“They searched me on the way in. What’s that about?” The man snickers, “but I see you get to bring your own toys.” 

The man makes a show of looking around Bucky, leering at you. Bucky pushes him straight by the chest, “never had any problem finding something to play with.” 

“Ah, don’t be so sensitive. Your girls are always so much fun,” the man, Stark, taunts. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, that goes for the staff too,” Bucky warns. 

“Wow, have you demoted yourself to bouncer now?” 

“These are my people, Tony,” he claps the man’s shoulder, “consider it a friendly reminder. I know you tend to forget.” 

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. He takes the dice as they’re held out to him and tosses them onto the felt. Bucky tickles your lower back with his finger and you squirm, elbowing an unexpected figure behind you. You let out a squeak and turn as Bucky does the same. 

“Hey,” a skinny man, not much taller than yourself greets, “been looking for you.” 

“Steve,” Bucky says, “what’re you doing here?” 

“Ah, you know,” he scratches his floppy golden hair, “you haven’t picked up your phone so--” 

“Shoot, what’s the date?” 

“Buck, it’s tomorrow,” the blond, Steve, grins, “I’m just making sure you show up. Ma would be real disappointed.” 

“I wouldn’t miss Sarah Rogers’ birthday for anything,” Bucky avows, the genuine tone in his voice wrenching at your chest. “You gonna stay and enjoy the tables? You still got your complimentary chips waiting on you.” 

“Told ya, I don’t like to gamble,” Steve chuckles, “but thanks.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I should’ve picked up. I’ve been so busy...” Bucky pauses as Steve smiles at you sheepishly as if he’s only just noticed you.  

“I get it,” Steve’s lashes flick, “she’s... miss, you’re real pretty.” 

He sounds as nervous as you feel. His cheeks tinge pink and he tucks his thumbs into his pockets. His brown slacks definitely don’t fit into the sparkling casino. Bucky laughs too. 

“Chill, have a drink at the bar before you go.” 

“Thanks, pal,” Steve smooths back his hair, “but I should probably head out--” 

“She don’t bite, Rogers,” Bucky chides, “well, I’ll tell her to keep her teeth to herself,” he rubs your back and slips his fingers around your side, pulling you close once more. “Have a drink for me, alright?” 

“Alright,” the smaller man exhales, “don’t forget.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky promises. 

As the blond strides away, slightly off kilter as he looks around, seeming lost as he tries to see around the people around, Bucky draws you away from the dice table. The small man reminds you a lot of yourself in some ways. He’s braver than you, he came all alone. 

“That... who?” You wonder. 

“My best friend. Since we were kids,” he answers, “good guy, just a bit... uppity. His ma’s got her birthday tomorrow. You should come.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s... I don’t know--” 

“She’ll be happy to meet ya. She’s been telling me to settle down for years,” he scoffs. “Her son too and he does try...” 

“Well, this isn’t.... it’s early--” you stammer. 

“You still don’t believe me,” he challenges you as he angles you to face him. He brings his hands to your arms, stroking the bare skin with his roughened fingertips, “you don’t think I’m gonna keep ya, doll?” 

“No, I didn’t-- I don’t know. It’s all so new and—I'm sorry, Bucky, I want to—I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know--” 

“Shhh, doll, I’m not mad. I got work to do. That’s fine,” he trails his fingers up the strap of your dress and tickles your throat, “I’ll keep it up, don’t you worry. Let’s get ya a drink.” 

He walks you to the bar, laying his hand on the top as the bartender crosses to him attentively. Bucky pauses before he orders and looks at you, “ladies first. What do you want, doll?” 

You look between Bucky and the bartender. You have no idea. You weren’t planning on drinking, you’re already a mess as it is but you don’t want to be rude. 

“You like cranberry, doll? How about a cosmopolitan?” Bucky suggests. 

You nod and face the bar again, “sure, uh, please, a cos...” 

“Cosmopolitan, coming up,” the bar tender agrees, “usual, sir?” 

“Single,” Bucky holds up a finger, “I wanna keep my wits about me.” 

The bartender sets to work and you fidget. You crane around to see the rest of the casino, a furor rising from the blackjack table. Bucky rubs your arm and draws your attention back to him. You give a nervous smile as you try not to think about those watching you in turn. 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly as he brings a finger up under your chin, “the only thing that matters is us, doll.” 

Before you can react, he leans in to kiss you. You’re caught entirely off guard, trapped in his snare as his tongue glides along your lips. He hums and pulls back, dropping his hand with a sigh. 

“I gotta get a hold on myself,” he laughs as he shows his palm, “you make it hard, doll. You really do.” 

You rock and smile bigger. Your cheeks are fiery and your temples are pounding. The bartender announces your cocktail and puts it up. Bucky takes it and hands it to you. You thank him as he turns to retrieve the short tumbler of flat whiskey. 

“Go on, have a taste, doll,” he encourages as he gives a gentle tap to the base of the stemmed glass. 

You look down at the coned glass of vibrant red liquor and juice, a twist of lemon against the brim. You raise it cautiously and give a sniff before you press your lips around the glass. Your eyes flick up as Bucky lets out a rumble. He fixates on your mouth as you sip, his teeth graze over his lower lip. 

Your cheeks pinch as you taste the mixed drink and you pull it away from your mouth. You dab your lips with your knuckles, terrified of smearing the gloss. You flutter your lashes at him and force another tight smile, “mm, it’s... sweet.” 

“Dangerous,” he smirks, “I don’t do cocktails. They go down to easy.” 

“Oh,” you give a guilty pout. “I don’t...” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that much,” he waves off your excuse, “really, doll, you could use it. It’ll help you relax.” 

“Right, er, thanks,” you slowly turn the stem between your fingers and look down at the glass. “I’m sorry I don’t...” 

“Hm,” he shifts closer as your voice drifts off, “sorry for what, doll?” 

He nudges you smoothly away from the bar, putting you back into step as he casually traverses the floor, his hand right on your back. He guides you subtly with the constant warmth between your hips. It is both comforting and disjointing. He’s there with you, propping you up, and yet you do not belong. 

“I don’t really fit, er, or... know what to do,” you murmur. 

He leans in to hear your small voice. He scoffs. 

“Let me tell you something, doll. You fit just nice on my arm. You don’t need to worry about anyone else but me, you got it? All these people in this room, they’re nothing. All these lights, all this noise, and I can only see you,” he purrs. 

You giggle nervously. He’s so flattering. He always knows just what to say.  

“Thanks, I...” you look away, embarrassed at your little confession. You’re supposed to be trying to blend in and yet you can’t help but put yourself on the sideline. He’s not the type. He is the main attraction. 

“You feel better, doll?” He asks as he rubs the dip of your back. “If it’s too much, we can go somewhere else.” 

“I’m... I’m good. I don’t wanna ruin the night,” you say, “really.” You raise the glass and sip again, “it’s really good, thank you, Bucky.” 

“Mph, I love it when you say my name,” he snarls, “come on.” 

He continues along, guiding you between tables and behind distracted bodies. The tables are packed with gamblers and figures pass from one to one, a line forming around the counter dolling out chips for cash. You take it all in, as if it’s a scene in a movie, observing all the background characters... still, you don’t feel like the star. 

A sharp pain strikes your arm suddenly and you stumble into Bucky. He keeps you from teetering onto your ass as he hugs his arm around you. Your cocktail slips out of your grasp and the glass cracks on the floor, splashing the remnants across the carpet.  

You’re pressed into Bucky as the unstable man latches onto the tall stool he just slid off of. The impact of his elbow thrums in your arm and you rub the tender spot and wince. Bucky shifts you behind him and moves as fast as a shadow. The back of his dark jacket strains across his shoulder blades as he grabs the man by his collar. 

“Hey, what the hell are ya doing? Watch yourself! You nearly knocked my woman over,” he sneers as he as good as shakes the man, “you made a mess of my carpet, you scumbag.” 

“Bucky,” you squeak in horror, the hot eruption of rage surprises you. He is a different man; he looks more like a wolf as he snarls at the offender. “It was an accident--” 

“Nah, it was a mistake,” Bucky brings the man even closer, “get the hell outta my casino before I break you like that glass.” Bucky shoves him away and kicks the broken glass on the floor, “now.” 

He puffs his chest out as the other man rambles drunkenly, apologising and staggering, skittering off in an uneven gait. He glances back several times as if fearing he’ll be followed. Bucky signals across the room and you see a man in a suit nod; he must be security. 

“Bucky,” you touch his elbow and gently graze his sleeve down to his hand, “are you okay?” 

He opens his fist and lets you tuck your hand into his. You’re quaking again. You cling to him out of need. You’re adrenaline rings in your ears. You don’t like anger. 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t be sorry, doll,” he squeezes your hand as he exhales the tension from his shoulders. He looks down at your hand and lifts it, turning to you as he kisses the back of it. He leaves a tingle on your skin, “I like that.” He tightens his grip as he keeps a hold of you, “you need a fresh drink, doll.” 

[bazingabitch2000]

Tori Spring and Michael Holden head canons:

Michael and Tori are both autistic, though they express it differently. Michael's traits appear more outwardly visible, while Tori’s are subtler, perhaps because Solitaire is narrated from her perspective. We see her tendencies through her internal thoughts, actions, and reflections, all filtered through her own lens. I also think Michael may have ADHD as well.

Michael and Tori are in a queerplatonic relationship. It is NOT a romantic or sexual relationship. Their kiss at the book's end feels out of place; their connection doesn’t need that romantic signal. Queerplatonic relationships like theirs are as valid and significant as romantic ones. Michael is Tori's person, and Tori is Michael's person. I think what they have is beautiful, and it shouldn't be meddled with.

Michael is one of the only people who is able to make Tori laugh - and I mean REALLY laugh. She doesn't hide her face so much when she laughs around him. Sometimes, she laughs in spite of him. She can't help but admit that he cracks her up. She secretly loves that. Michael also secretly loves that. Sometimes they'll spend hours laughing until their faces and tummies hurt, and one of them either decides to finally go home, or they both just fall asleep together.

Tori just borrows Michael's sweaters whenever. She gets looks from her mum, Charlie, and the others, and she knows what they think. She knows they think that her and Michael are together. She doesn't bother to correct them because it's too exhausting, and they'll never get it.

Tori is cold - always. No matter what time of year, or how many layers she's wearing, she is always cold and always complains about how cold it is. Michael is the opposite of this, and is always lovely and warm. He doesn't even have to wear loads of layers. He's always pretty warm. Michael teases Tori for the fact that she's always freezing cold.

Michael makes Tori watch films she's never watched, and once she does, she reluctantly admits that they're actually great films.

Once Tori watches a new film that Michael has recommended, she makes a playlist based on the film, or a favourite character of Michael's from that film.

Tori finds people who reject pop music as “too mainstream” insufferable. She can rant about it for so long that the room falls silent.

Michael is never surprised when he sees that Tori is online at like 2 am. He teases her about it, and begs her to try and go to sleep at a respectable hour, but she never gives in.

Tori refuses to speak with anyone at breakfast if she can avoid it. She makes a point of making sure she can eat breakfast alone in the kitchen or eat it in her room. Either way, her headphones are on as she listens to Coldplay or Radio Head. If someone interrupts her, she glares and reluctantly removes her headphones.

Sometimes, Tori dissociates while she's around her friends. She finds herself questioning whether everything going on around her is real. Whether it's actually happening. Her friends don't seem to notice.

Tori's closet is full of hoodies, while Michael has a growing collection of sweaters.

Tori drinks everything with a straw.

Michael likes to give Tori small doodles, drawings, and notes. Tori keeps all of them and looks at them every once in a while when she can't sleep.

Tori absolutely refuses to ever use the overhead light. She will avoid using it at ALL costs.

Tori gets very bad migraines a lot. They even make her lightheaded and on the brink of fainting. She shrugs it off or plays it off that she's fine around others, but Michael can usually tell. Michael brings paracetamol or ibuprofen always, just in case. He also reminds Tori to drink water.

Tori lives off buttered noodles/pasta, mac n' cheese, or nuggets and chips a lot of the time. She can't cook to save her life.

Sometimes Tori finds herself watching game shows like Tipping Point and The Chase. She genuinely enjoys watching them and tries to play along.

Tori refuses to buy a new phone until her current one is on it's last legs. She just can't comprehend why and how people will buy a new phone once a new model is out.

When she was younger, she would get in trouble for cutting her hair on her own with a scissors.

Tori almost always has a blanket with her in her house. She has plenty of blankets in her room. When she's in the living room, you can bet she has a blanket.

In school, Tori was either the one telling everyone to “shut up” or sitting silently by herself. She was never part of the noise.

Michael would feel bad if any of his teddies were left out, so he would sleep with all of them, or have some sort of rota/routine and sleep with a different one each night.

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi, this is a weird question but im curious: how does it make you feel when non-Black people talk about loving art or other things that are significant to Black culture or primarily made by Black people? like where are the lines between appropriation, commodification, and appreciation to you? im specifically asking this with jazz in mind, because ive noticed that most people in the jazz scene where i live arent Black, but Blackness is so central to it and its history. thoughts?

It depends on how genuine it is (and it's usually easy to tell).

Tbh, a lot of nonblack (lbh here, we usually see it from white folk) people are very weird about Blackness. It's why I had that serious moment about the CBC BHM challenge the other day- everyone wants to enjoy Black culture but no one wants to respect and love Black people.

And you can see that in how people respond to historically Black forms of art and media- how they will love the music of Persona but think jazz is "boring" (fun fact, white racists at the time of jazz' inception thought it was just loud, rhythmless noise that would lure in their white girls into sexual sin and white boys into marijuana- sound familiar?👀)

The lines are gonna be different from person to person, so you shouldn't just take only my word for it. But for me, the line between appreciation and commodification is the presence of actual self-respecting Black people that are safe in the space. Because that's gonna let me know just how welcome my Blackness actually is, in this space that's surrounded by what it's created. Do you just like what we make without consideration for who the human beings are behind it?

That's cool that you like my fashion- but where are the people who look like me wearing it? That's cool you like my music, but where are the people who look like me listening to it with you?

That's cool that you can draw Black people- but do you support Black creators? Do you expect the support of Black viewers for being able to do so, but don't show up for those Black viewers any other time? That's cool that you like Black characters, but do you have Black friends? Are you afraid of your actual Black peers?

Would you still like jazz, if you had to hear and accept the history of antiblack racism and activism behind it? 👀 Or do you just wanna dance?

Because if it were me, and I walked into your jazz space and there were no Black people, and no sort of respect for Blackness- just entertainment- I'm either gonna start challenging folks or I'm gonna walk out 🤣. If I don't feel like I am accepted or represented in a space full of my creation, then it's being commodified. If it's being outright ignored or credit stolen, then it's appropriation.

Hope this helps 👍🏾

[fallingdownhell]

hi!! would it be alright to request cyno and tighnari crushing on kaveh's younger sibling? brother's best friend type of thing ´･ᴗ･`

I hope I understood and did your request correctly. If not, I'm very sorry. Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno Content: gender neutral reader; fluff; the boys have a huge crush; getting together (kinda) Word count: 1k words Enjoy<3

Tighnari

the way I like to think about it, is that Kaveh and Tighnari have been besties for quite some time already

they met in their Academiya days, got along, and stayed close friends till this day

of course, Tighnari was aware that Kaveh had a younger sibling, though he had never gotten to meet them and to be fair, it wasn't a top priority of his

however, that quickly changed once he saw you for the first time

Tighnari was on his way to pick Kaveh up, knocking on his door and waiting for him to open up. Nothing out of the usual. Except this time, the door was opened by someone he had never seen before

perplexed, he asked to see Kaveh, to which you told him to wait for a second

Kaveh then soon came and the two got going, without Tighnari getting to see you again. Not being able to hold in his curiosity, he questioned Kaveh about it

"What, you mean (Name)? They're my younger sibling. I told you about them, remember?"

He does remember, though he had no recollection of Kaveh telling him just how stunning you really were

over time, it became very obvious that Tighnari has developed a huge crush on you. He comes over to Kaveh's place more often, engaging in conversation with you almost every time he's there, smiling at everything you say... it's so obvious that even Kaveh picks up on the crush his best friend has for his sibling

though he wasn't the biggest fan of it at the start, in his words "It's better if it's you rather than any of these other idiots out there"

so Tighnari at least has the blessing of his best friend to pursue you... though he's not too sure about what to do from here on out

for now, he finds comfort in the fact that he gets to spend time with you and get closer to you over time, without any pressure to it

he begins to invite you to separate hangouts, just the two of you, talking about any and everything you can think of

he brings you small presents, sometimes even flowers that he finds on his patrols through the forests

one time, he invited you to a picnic as he claimed he found a beautiful spot in the forest. There, he made you a flower crown, gently placing it on top of your head

he still remembers that day fondly, the shy smile that you had, the slight blush on your cheeks.. the image is permanently engraved in his mind

one of these days, he wants to ask you on a proper date, to finally ask you to go out with him... maybe then, he can finally get even closer to you, like he always dreams of these days...

Cyno

Cyno isn't exactly best friends with Kaveh like Tighnari is, but they still are friends and hang out regularely

I like to think that those two met each other through Tighnari, and although it was a bit awkward at first, they began to bond over TCG faster than expected

soon enough, they would play together on a regular basis, getting to know each other better and better, with Cyno almost always cracking one of his god awful jokes, but everyone just bares with it

over the course of their developing friendship, they get to know more about each others lifes, which is also how Cyno first learns that Kaveh has a younger sibling, still enrolled in the Academiya

feeling intrigued, Cyno wants to know what kind of person his younger sibling would be, so he sets out on a mini "mission" to find out more about you

he learns pretty quickly that you're one of the top students in your Darshan, adored by teachers and other scholars

and he understands why that is immediately after he first meets you in person. Your kind and easygoing personality just draws people in, promising them a fun time if they were to hang out with you. You did also have a thing to be a bit too dramatic, much like your brother, but it wasn't as intense if compared to him

however, your first interaction with Cyno was stiff and awkward, seeing as you were scared because of his position, thinking that he was conducting some kind of investigation on you

after Cyno cleared up the misunderstanding, you noticably relaxed around him, smiling from time to time, even though you were still a little on edge around him

and somehow, that shy demeanor of yours is what drew him in even more, letting him fall head over heels for you

after that, it seemed like you were running into the General Mahamatra a lot more frequently. You couldn't help but think that all those 'incidental' encounters weren't so random to begin with

but nonetheless, you began to enjoy the interactions you had with Cyno. He was actually a pretty easy person to get along with, if you can ignore the icecold glares he throws at people every now and then

he often tries to lighten the mood with some of his jokes. And even if not all of them were good, you did let out a chuckle every now and then when he told a rather good one. Those small laughs would always make him feel proud on the inside, like he accomplished a great feat by making you laugh with his jokes

Kaveh, on the other hand, seemed to be oblivious about the thing the two of you had going on, until one day, you mentioned Cyno in conversation with him

your brother began questioning you about your interactions, quickly gaining a picture about what was going on

he went to confront Cyno about it the next day. It didn't escalate into a full blown argument, but can you really blame him? He's just a brother, trying to look out for his younger sibling!

it took a bit of time and reassuring, but after confirming that Cyno was indeed serious about you and not just playing with you, Kaveh reluctantly agreed to his friend pursuing a relationship with you

however, he did warn Cyno that if he were to ever hurt you, no matter which way, he would stop at nothing to make him regret the day he was born. And for the first time in his life, Cyno felt some form of fear to the blonde architect...

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Lost in Translation

pairing: Fem!Reader x Theodore Nott

summary: In which you and Theo are best friends, and secretly in love. But when Theo accidentally overhears a conversation between you and Enzo, he realizes you might not feel the same way…

Note: Ok y’all I’m sorry I PROMISE this will be my last Theo fic in a little while, I’m really going to try to write for other characters (and dw I won’t cheat and write for Lorenzo’s other characters ;)). On that note, I am going on many trips this summer and don’t know how much I’ll be able to write so I just want to get this story out before I leave for my trip tomorrow. Update: I didn’t finish in time and I’m currently halfway across the world writing this, having been awake for 23 hours straight, so if it stops making sense towards the end, pls forgive me 🙏🏼

~~~

It was a particularly warm day in March, so you and your friends decided to carry out your free period by the Black Lake. The sound of the waves lightly crashing onto the shore and the light breeze dancing through the trees was enough to make you want to fall asleep on the plush grass beneath you, but Pansy’s voice brought you out of your dreamy state.

“Y/n?” She spoke again, when her voice didn’t get your attention the first time.

“Mhm.” You muttered from where you were laying in the grass, a smile small placed on your face as the sun hit your skin so nicely.

“Dreaming of Theo?” Hermione inquired, causing Daphne to giggle due to your friendship with Theo being a little too “friendly”.

You shot up and glared at the girls. “How many times do I have to tell you, we are only best friends.”

This caused Daphne and Hermione to laugh even harder, and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Ok, ok, whatever. Y/n, do you have the charms work?” Pansy asked, annoyed that her question had been ignored thrice.

“Yeah, I have it here.” You said, shaking your head to forget the altercation as you rummaged through your satchel.

“Speak of the devil.” Daphne said, causing you to look up.

Class must have gotten out already, hence why Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo were walking your way now.

You gave Pansy your homework and went back to resting on your makeshift grass bed.

“Forgot our invite?” Mattheo said, as the boys reached your group.

“You had class, idiot.” Pansy said, scribbling down your work.

“When has that ever stopped us.” Mattheo said, as he sat down and threw his tie off and gave Pansy a sassy look.

You felt your body being moved by strong hands you immediately recognized as Theo’s.

“Hey, you.” Theo said, as he looked down at you. He had moved you so your head now rested on his lap, a much more comfortable pillow.

“Hi Teddy.” You said, your eyes still closed.

“Theres other people here too, y/n”. Enzo joked, his mouth full with food.

“I know, I just don’t tend to say hi to people I don’t like.” You joked, making a face at Enzo.

He threw a piece of candy at you, but it was intercepted by Theo who put it in his mouth.

“What’s in the bag Mattheo.” Hermione asked, changing the conversation topic and drawing attention to Mattheo’s bag which was slowly and quietly jumping up and down.

“These idiots spilled some of our potion into my bag and it hasn’t stopped jumping since. You should have seen it before though, it’s calmed down a lot since then.”

Theo and Enzo began to laugh, and the rest of the group followed suit.

Theo’s hands were playing with your hair, like second-nature.

Enzo’s gaze burned down on the both of you, and you slowly made eye contact with him. You had drunkenly told Enzo about your feelings towards Theo after a party a couple weeks ago, when he brought you back to your room (a job that was usually taken by Theo).

—

“Careful, y/n, watch your step.” He had said, as he helped you back into your room from the Slytherin common room.

“Your the best Enzo, you’re really my best friend.” You had responded, turning to face him as you said it.

“Yeah you’re mine too y/n.” He said with a small chuckle. You two had known each other for ages, and your bond was like no other.

As he was helping you out of your clothes, you started to explain your feelings.

“Enzo, I can trust you right?” You asked, biting your lower lip.

He stopped momentarily, nervous. “Of course you can trust me, y/n.” He said, taken aback by your silly question.

“Ok, because what I’m about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone about. And I mean it. Not even your cat.” You said, turning to face him, your expression completely serious.

“O-ok, yeah. Of course.” He said, surprised by your quick change of tone.

“I mean seriously. If you told anyone it could ruin everything.”

Enzo gave you a skeptical look, what the fuck were you scared to say he thought to himself.

You took his silence as an invitation to speak again.

“I’m in love with Theo. And I mean really in love with Theo. I’ve thought about it for some time now and I just had to tell someone about it.” You rambled.

Enzo was silent for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Fucking finally you realize!”

—

“Mattheo, stop it! Do it yourself!” Daphne’s voice brought you and Enzo out of your shared daydream. Daphne snatched her potions essay out of Mattheo’s hands and slapped him with it, causing him to yelp out.

“Will you two stop it? Anyways, we better get going y/n.” Hermione said, collecting her stuff and getting up.

“Where to?” Theo asked.

“Harry and Ron are meeting us at Hagrid’s in a bit. We have to help him with some baby dragon he found.” You explained, getting up from Theo’s legs.

“Ok, see you at dinner then.” He said softly, helping you put your things away.

“See you.” You said to him, and then loudly to the rest of the group as you walked away with Hermione.

Theo stared at you as you walked away, his being consumed with you.

~~

Dinner was quick, and as you made your way out of the Great Hall, you detached yourself from Hermione, Harry, and Ron, to grab Enzo.

“Come with me.” You said, pulling him by his arm and giving him no time to ask questions.

You pulled him into your dorm room and closed the door.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna stop being a pussy and confess! I’m tired of being hopelessly in love and I want to do something about it.” You explained.

“Fucking finally!” He said, repeating the words he had said that fateful night.

“And you’re going to help me practice.”

What..?” Enzo asked, a confused expression on his face.

“I need you to help me practice what I’m going to say. Please.” You said, throwing the last word in there to make it sound more like a question than a command.

“Ok yeah. Anything to finally get you two together.” Enzo asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ugh, I can’t do it! What if he doesn’t like me back, and then I ruin our friendship and I lose him completely. I’ll tear the group apart. I-I can’t do this.” You say, sinking down to the floor, your worries consuming you.

Enzo follows you down to the ground, and grabs one of your shoulders gently. His other hand lifting your chin to look him in the eyes.

“Y/n, I love you, but you’re being so fucking stupid right now. Of course he loves you, it’s so painstakingly obvious. I mean everyone knew before you two realized it. He practically crumbles at the sight of you talking to other boys. So please, just do this.” He explains, putting emphasis on the last sentence.

“You’re right. I- wait, he gets jealous when I talk to other guys?” You ask, diverging the conversation.

Laughter erupts out of Enzo, and it vibrates through out the entire room.

~~

Little did you know, Theo had had a similar conversation with Mattheo the night of that party a few weeks ago, which was the reason for his absence in taking you to your room

—

He was sitting on the astronomy tower, smoking a cigarette when Mattheo appeared.

“Party’s down there, mate.”

“I’m not interested.” Theo had said, watching as the smoke from his cigarette mixed from the smoke created by his voice in the cold air.

“Why’s that?” Mattheo asked, sitting down next to Theo and taking a cigarette from the open pack on the ground.

“I can’t stand it anymore. Seeing her with other boys.”

“Y/n?” Mattheo asked, in which Theo confirmed with a small nod.

“My chest physically hurts when I see her flirt with other people. I’m physically hurting knowing I can’t be with her. Knowing I can’t love her.” Theo explains, tears brimming in his usually stole cold eyes.

“Then tell her. I assure you she would much rather flirt with you than those tossers.”

—

So now, Theo was on his way to your dorm, excitement and fear teeming inside of him. He was repeating the speech he had prepared earlier with Mattheo over and over in his head, but he knew it was useless. He knew he would forget all of it the moment he looked into your angelic face.

He ran up the stairs to your dorm room, pushing people aside and muttering apologies as he did so.

He ran down the hallway, excited to get to your door. He finally reached the dark oak, but was surprised by the laughter he heard inside. That wasn’t your sweet laugh. It was loud and boisterous, a boys. Theo waited outside your door, listening in. Had he misread the signs?

“Enzo stop it. Stop laughing.” You said.

Enzo? Theo thought, confusion clouding his mind.

“Ok, ok, yep, sorry.” Enzo said, laughter still slipping out of his lips.

“I love you, ok?” You said, after slapping the side of his head.

“Finally you realize. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!” Enzo responded, and Theo’s heart dropped. It dropped and dropped until he was sure it was laying on the floor somewhere. His throat closed up and mouth got all dry.

You were in love with Enzo? How could he have missed that? How could he possibly have missed that? Tears threatened to spill, and he was damned if he let anyone see him cry. He ran out of there as soon as he regained feeling in his legs.

Theo wanted to crawl into the Black Lake and drown. How could the girl he’s been in love with since he was a child love someone else? One of his best friends for that matter. Why was his life always so unfair?”

~~

“Ok, ok I’m ready.” You say, after having finished your little improv love confession with Enzo.

“Ok, so what are you waiting for?”

“Now? You want me to go now?” You ask, your eyebrows shooting up and eyes widening.

“Yes, now! Stop wasting time!”

“O-ok, ok, fine, I’m going now.” You say, reaching for the door. “Will you wait for me? In here, please.” You say, turning back to face him.

“Of course.” He said, a smile small on his lips as he crashes down onto your bed.

~~

You finally reached Theo’s dorm, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you knocked on the door.

It was strangely silent on the other side, until you heard footsteps reaching for the door.

You fought back the urge to walk away, your stomach was flipping and your palms were lightly sweating. Wtf am I doing? You thought.

“Yeah?”

You were taken aback by Mattheo’s presence, even more so by his face. He looked almost, unhappy to see you. Something you had never experienced.

“Is Theo here?” You asked, eyes trying to dart around Mattheo’s body to see inside the room.

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed angry.

“Nope. I’ll pass on a message if you want.” He said, uninterested.

“Er, no it’s alright, I’ll just come back later.” You explained.

“Or maybe not.” He said, closing the door in your face.

You stood there shocked, had he really just done that? What was going on? Where was Theo?

You concluded that he had probably been with a girl, thus his urgency and blocking you from seeing inside. Whenever girls got with the boys, they were typically jealous of your friendship with them (although you never understood because they were all practically your brothers), so perhaps he wanted you out before the girl got angry.

You left, walking back to your dorm. The confidence dissipating out of you, and you decided you would just do it tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo was actually in the room, wallowing over his lost love.

~~

The next morning you slowly got out of bed, rolling around in your comfortable sheets as the sunlight seeped into your room. It was a slow Saturday and you had nothing planned other than a Ravenclaw party you were debating attending.

You slowly got yourself out of bed, reminding yourself of the large task at hand: tell your best friend your in love with him, no big deal. You got dressed and made your way down to breakfast, and you kept finding yourself wiping your sweaty palms against your shirt.

As you walked into the Great Hall and made your way over to the table, you noticed immediately that Theo was absent, and Mattheo as well. You quickly scanned the table to find Enzo and when you locked eyes, he gave you a sympathetic look followed with a shrug. You went over to your table and quickly ate breakfast.

The rest of the day was just as strange. You didn’t see Theo all day, which never ever happened. You two were practically attached at the hip. It was strange not having his presence around you, and you swear you were having withdrawal symptoms.

The strangest thing occurred towards the end of the day, when you were walking down the hallway and you saw Theo walking a ways away in your direction. But as soon as he saw he, and you swear he saw you, he turned sharply into the boys restroom, looking down.

~~

“Cmon y/n, please come!” Pansy said, trying to drag you out of your bed to go to a party with Daphne and her.

“I’m sorry, Pans, I’m just not feeling it.” You stated. You had been crying for a while, coming to the conclusion that not only does Theo not love you, he hates you.

“Ok, ok. But, if you change your mind, you know where we are.” She said, finally giving up and leaving your room.

~~

Enzo was leaning on the arm of a couch, drinking fire whiskey and laughing along to Draco and Blaise’s remarks.

The Ravenclaw common room had been expanded, yet it still felt stuffy with the huge amounts of people inside. Blue lights were dancing around the room and music was pumping loudly throughout.

Theo and Mattheo were sitting somewhere else, Theo stating he couldn’t stand even looking at Enzo or he would kill him. But eventually, he got enough drinks in his system, trying to numb the pain of his heartbreak, and got up to make his way to him.

“Wow, mate. Where you going?” Mattheo asked, grabbing Theo’s forearm.

“I’m not gonna lay a hand on him.” Theo said, glaring at Enzo and shaking his arm out of Mattheo’s grasp.

He took long strides over to Enzo, Draco, and Blaise, and his cup sloshed back and forth, liquid spilling over the sides.

“Hey mate.” Blaise said, him and Draco both unaware of any drama.

Theo nodded to him and Enzo shared a tight lipped smile, and looked down at his cup. The air was so tense it could’ve been cut in half with a pair of scissors.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Theo asked, after beats of silence and staring daggers at Enzo.

“Uh- I- my girlfriend?” Enzo asked, taken aback. The fear emanating from his voice at Theo’s violent look.

“Yeah, your girlfriend. Y’know, y/n.” He said, his voice laced with brutality.

“Y/n? What are you talking about?” Enzo asked, his brows knitted in confusion.

“I heard you talking to her. Saying how much you loved one another. Ringing any bells?”

“Wait, Theo, what the fuck are you talking about?” Enzo asked, Blaise and Draco listening in intently.

“Wow, you are a shit boyfriend. I fucking heard you saying how much you love each other when I was outside of her dorm. It was two fucking days ago and now you can’t even remember?” Theo said, his face fuming with anger.

“Holy shit, that’s why you started acting all weird? Mate, that’s not even close to what was going on.” Enzo explained, Blaise and Draco were watching like it was a reality tv show.

“Oh, so your love confessions were just pretend, or?” Theo said, talking to his best friend as if he was scum.

“Yes, you idiot! She was practicing what say to you!”

“What?!” Blaise said, covering his mouth when he realized it was out loud.

Theo blinked, looking around to all the boys. Mattheo had appeared when he heard the commotion getting rowdy.

“What..?” Theo asked, looking intently at Enzo.

“She’s in love with you! She asked me to practice what to say to because she was going to tell you. But then you got all weird and stopped talking to her. Now she’s sure you hate her and she’s been crying for hours.” Enzo explained.

Theo looked at him with blank eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Mattheo said, pushing Theo towards the door.

Blaise and Draco cheered, and Enzo sat back releasing a breath, thankful that he hadn’t just been beat to death by Theo.

~~

“Go away Pansy!” You said, after a knock was placed on your door.

You had been laying in bed practically all day and were wallowing over your lost love.

“It’s not Pansy.” Theo said shyly.

“Theo?”

“Can I please come in.”

“Uhm, yeah.” You said, quickly sitting up and trying to make yourself look more presentable.

The door opened slowly, and Theo walked in, his face was soft and kind.

“Can we talk. Please.” He begged.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, eyes searching his face for a clue of what was to happen.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were in love with Enzo and I- I just couldn’t handle seeing you.”

“What? Why would you think I’m in love with Enzo?”

“I came round to your dorm last night to talk to you, and I heard you and Enzo inside. You were talking about how much you loved each other. And I just, my heart broke. Because I’m in love with you y/n. I’ve loved you ever since I have known you and I couldn’t bear to be around you after hearing that you loved my best friend and that I would never have a chance to love you.” He ranted, tears coming to his eyes as he stood before you.

“Theo, I- I don’t love Enzo.” Was all you managed to get out, because your throat was closing in quickly now and tears were threatening to spill if you said anything else.

“I know that now.” Theo said, with a light laugh. “And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined everything between us but I want to make it up to you and if you still have any feelings for me at all, please, please tell me because I can’t go on pretending I wouldn’t burn the entire world for you if you asked any longer.”

You smiled, tears falling from your eyes.

“Of course I fucking love you! I’ve been in ruins thinking that you hate me, Teddy.”

He melted at the nickname and made his way over to you, sitting on your bed and wiping your tears from your cheeks. You both were smiling at each other, and after gathering yourselves for a minute, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You laughed at the silly question, because, of course you wanted to kiss him and answered by smashing your lips onto his.

~~

GOD SORRY THIS IS SO LONG and the ending is super rushed because I didn’t want to keep writing

[tornoleander]

Finally Ironed out some ninja designs! I Usually don’t share references but with the behind the scenes stuff I’m doing on my Skybound project I don’t have much else I can share yet.

There is a few headcanon/ Fic stuff in references and powers and the all ninja shot is for first part of Skybound project.

I can share Skybound project Updates! I’m making lots of progress! Trying to focus on p1 stuff so I can put full force into the p2 stuff!

|

V

P1 may be ready Summer? 2025

My Skybound talk Video:

* God I have so much to ramble about just when I think I covered something a new angle gets me

* How TF am I supposed to sanely transition from the wholesome reasons I love this season into the horribly problem stuff. Sigh*

* Actually studying videos covering serious topics to navigate how to word things.

* I have to stop drawing so much art for everything or no one will ever see this video.

* The desire to animate my character lipsinking to me is an evolutionary disadvantage I will resist.

Cannon compliant Animatic:

* Song is Ironed out fought a while adding voice lines and I’m way more excited than I thought I’d be for this animatic because I thought it would be overshadowed by how strongly I feel about the other 2. But damn.

* I’m storyboarding after like my life depends on it rn

* Really trying to capture Nya’s character Ark which sent me right back to the video script because I remembered that one reddit post calling her a bitch and rage wrote for 2 hours.

* I am determined to make people see how good her character arc actually is.

* Throwing Jay shade in this one lol he was kinda awful even with being manipulated.

* Trying to convey clear Ideas and story through art is pain but also addicting.

* This is meant as a leading to both part two animatics, but bbnb Kai is shorter than wytyaa Kai. The difference is significant everything else pre dinner with Nadakhan is the same. The other head cannons are almost aligned as far as I know. It’s JUST Kai. What do I do with him?!? Lmao Might just distance him from the other ninja so you can’t tell how tall he is. Thank goodness he is the most gullible and first to wish it all away

P2 out like December if I’M lucky TT

Even though I should focus on first things first, I can’t help myself. these fics have lived rent free in my brain for like 2 years and despite plans shifting the excitement of drawing the story I read and put to music in my head is a force of nature. Thanks Adhd

Wytyaa:

* I storyboarded about half the scenes I want to. Songs are decided but a few parts I’m waiting for the rest of the story for.

* I think I’m going to mess with color palette. I really want to capture the emotion and intensity. I’m learning the full potential of my art and

* I need Final ch released for maping out the second half.

* BUT I AM NOT READY TO READ IT @mondothebombo And from what you told me I don’t think I’ll be able to finish P1 by then. cries*

* I wanna capture the feeling reading wytyaa.

* May make my wytyaa specific refs so I can make animatic art I can post early.

Bbnb

* It’s all storyboarded and half animated

* Thinking about redoing most the earlier stuff, consistency has been a problem

* Also was to mess with colors, dark backgrounds and intense colors.

* I fought with my ref forever to find good enough lightning scar colors cause figuring out the right amount of contrast is pain.

* So now I want to redraw my bbnb scar references a third time.

* May draw other bbnb specific refs so I can make some art for the animatic I can post here early or on on my old A03 book

If you have Any questions feel free to leave an ask! I answer all eventually sometimes I do save em up though so if I didn’t answer something yet, Sorry I will get to you.

[starreyblueberry]

THIS SOMEHOW TURNED INTO A JIMMYTIMMY FIC THIS WAS SUPPOSE TO JUST BE A RAMBLE.. LOWKEY brainrot over Timmy and Jimmy right now. Ignoring the fact that the specials are some of the best episodes from BOTH of the shows (idk what people say 1 2 and 3 were all peak), the characters Timmy and Jimmy have such potential?? Like two polar opposites who use different forms of creation to express their creativity, yet similar kids who could find solstice within each other, as they both feel left out within their lives due to differences they cant quite fix, but still are able to understand each other. How they both became quick friends who bicker, and actually taught each other how to live, idk I think it's sweet.

Maybe they kept in touch over the years? That they texted till Midnight? That they considered each other their best friends at one point? I mean- it would make sense! With what they both go though, especially if it spans years, them becoming best friends, being able to understand each other like no one else, it makes sense. They would visit each other's dimensions as much as they could. They didn't want to destroy the multiverse, but they also wanted to see each other. Jimmy had a small google calendar that at least once a month, had "Timmy Turner stay over" or "Visit Turner's dimension." Jimmy and Timmy would have sleepovers at each other's place, usually Timmy staying a few days with Jimmy. They would go too amusement parks one day, and space the next. Jimmy became close with the computer programs "Cosmo and Wanda" as well, having conversations with them about his inventions, and giving him actual advice! (Mostly Wanda, Cosmo usually just tried to shoot random things with his wand- but he was sweet in his own way) They even had a prototype called "Poof" appear once in a while. He usually clung onto Timmy and would call him his older brother (he questions the true sentience of these beings). They both had memorized every nook and cranny of each other's houses/cities. They both could pass as residents there with how much knowledge they had of the other dimensions. Hell- all of Timmy's friends knew who Jimmy was and all of Jimmy's friends knew who Timmy was. They even visited each other's schools a few times! They were part of each others lives even if they weren't part of the same reality, Timmy would teach Jimmy how to relax, it was something Jimmy struggled with, especially as he grew up. He was making world-altering inventions daily, but when Timmy was around, sometimes he would just listen to him talk about comics or go on a walk on a different planet. It was peaceful, especially as Timmy would push that he didn't always need to solve everything, and he was allowed to take breaks. Sure Jimmy still overwork himself, but he doesn't feel as guilty when he takes naps anymore. Jimmy taught Timmy that he's never alone and that people do in fact care about him besides his godparents. That while his family sucked, he wasn't fated to just be miserable. He was creative, kind, smart, funny, and people were idiots if they couldn't see that. Timmy won't ever admit to shedding a tear that day, as well as getting a gift for him the next day (A drawing of Gonard and Jimmy, as well as a polaroid attached to it of Timmy and Jimmy on the beach, splashing water on each other.) Timmy gained a bit more hope in the future after that.

Eventually, Jimmy could really see Timmy being his friend forever, and actually had a meaningful bond with him. That he never wants Timmy to leave his side, even if they bicker like a old married couple everyday, even if people tell both of them that their way to destructive together, even if somehow- some enemy of there's wants to make sure they both end up dead, Jimmy wants to find Timmy every step of the way. Timmy would have had the same thoughts if he hadn't known that it was all futile anyway. He would have had the exact same feelings- he does! But he knows that after he's 18, it's over. He knows that the moment the clock strikes 12, he can never step foot in retrovill again, he could never hear the name Jimmy Neutron again outside of blurry memories from his friends. He would forget every adventure, party, sleepover, late-night drives, and multi-dimensional butt-kicking he experienced with Jimmy. Timmy tried to hold it off for so long, he really did. He refused to let Jimmy know anything about this, he didn't want Jimmy trying to solve this, he knew that would be impossible. He didn't want all of his hangouts to just be speculation on how he could stay, he just wanted to spend some time with his best friend. With the person he would have spent the rest of his life with, if it was possible.

Jimmy was working on a surprise gift for Timmy. He was trying to do something creative rather than scientific since that was Timmy's style. He was trying to sew patches onto a pink hoodie, small white stars being embroidered along the sleeve. It looked simple sure, but it was something Jimmy was working on for days! He even set aside his latest project for it, which is saying a lot for Jimmy. They had planned a hangout just 2 days before his birthday, he knew that Timmy always spent his birthday with his computer programs, so an early birthday gift was due! Jimmy could hear the portal booting up from behind him, and he felt a spark of excitement within him. When Timmy stepped out of the portal, Jimmy folded the hoodie in his hands and was ready to hand it to Timmy, he hopped off his chair and walked to Timmy. He noticed the redness in his eyes and his tired demeanor, huh, must have had an adventure with his computer programs the day before. He was going to say Happy Early Birthday and a snarky remark on how he's surprised he reached adulthood. Timmy didn't let Jimmy get one word in before he broke the news though "Jimmy look, please please don't be mad at me I just-" Jimmy could already see the sweat forming on Timmys head, god did Timmy mess up again? dId he fuck up with some sort of extraterrestrial creature and needs his help? for the love of science. "I have something important to tell you." Timmy quietly says. Timmy shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, as he slightly looked down to avoid direct eye contact with Jimmy. "I've wanted to tell you for the past YEAR, and it been so hard to even find the words!" His voice is quickening in pace, he even grabs his hat and starts to fidget with it in his hands. "and I know I fucked up by not telling you sooner I know, but you deserve this explanation for what's about to happen, and I'm just gonna spit it out right here and now-"

Jimmy could see how panicked he was as if he was on a time limit. ... "I'm going to forget you, and retrovill- everything. There's nothing you can do about it either." ...At first, It was denial. Jimmy was so confused, he said he could probably just make a memory machine and bring them back later, all these "dramatics" weren't necessary. I mean, forget the past 8 years? He could practically sense the bullshit coming from that statement, He was already about to start working on it before Timmy refused. He explained how if he kept his memories, the computer programs could "fry up" or whatever. Jimmy just said he could alter them to have better software, but Timmy refused. "Look- I can just upload your memories into my computer and it'll be fine! I already have a bunch of videos of us throughout the years it wouldn't be too hard." He explained very casually, Jimmy quickly glaced over his lab as he said this, his hand following to showcase all the gadgets he could use to easily solve this!

"Jimmy no" Timmy put his hand on his nose, slightly squeezing it. "these programs are beyond whatever science-thingy you can do- its not just science its more complicated-" Jimmy interjected "Science can fix everything Turner, I thought you've known me long enough to know that," He said smugly as he slightly grinned at his comeback. Timmy just glared back, and Jimmy could sense that Timmy didn't want to just bicker around this "Jimmy you can't fix this, this isn't even possible to comprehend to the human mind, even a genius. I can't explain how the memory erasure works but I NEED to forget" Timmy puts his hands in the air as he says this, and his eyes get slightly wide as he continues on "or else there would be consequences that I don't want either of us to face, or my family, my world!" He exclaims with all the emotion he could muster in his voice. "I'm not letting you touch Cosmo or Wanda either." Jimmy quickly realizes with a quick look around the lab and Timmy's clothes that the computer programs weren't even there with Timmy, he must have thought this out, smart bastard.

Then, it was anger. They argued till their voice broke, until screaming was all they could do. Jimmy was furious, why wouldn't Timmy tell him. He must have known, all these years, he must have known that everything would shatter and become whatever shit show is happening right now, Jimmy was so sure he could fix this, while Timmy was saying it's not possible, and all Jimmy could do is keep asking why isn't it, while Timmy would just avoid the question. He was thinking of every single invention, every single piece of technology, of scientific knowledge that could help, until Timmy says that its out of Jimmy's hands, and that he knows nothing can be changed. "Why the hell wouldn't you tell me?? I could have solved this by now, I could have, why the fuck wouldn't you have let me" Jimmy puts his hands in the air as he exclaims this Timmy takes a step back "Because I knew you would have a meltdown over this, I knew you would just try and solve this with whatever gizmo you have and then come up empty-handed-" "Since when have I ever come up empty-handed." Jimmy takes a step forward, frustration dripping as he stares Timmy directly in the eyes. Timmy takes a slight pause and just slightly squints his eyes. "You would have if you worked yourself to death" His voice slightly breaks as he says this, his feet feel stuck to the ground. Jimmy can feel his face heat up "You didn't let me try!" He can hear his own echo in the lab at this rate "Cause I wanted to hang out with you! I wanted to actually be with you at the moment, not worried about- this!" Timmy gestures to Jimmy himself as he says this, his voice getting more and more meek. He was practically pleading, with Timmy, begging him to let him at least let him try. He was coming up with different solutions, maybe living in Retrovill instead! Sure he has no idea what that would do to the multiverse, but he could invent something to protect the fabric of it while Timmy stays, or maybe if Timmy would just let him alter his computer programs he can figure out a way to make sure his memory wouldn't overdrive their software, or maybe he could look at da rules himself and check for loopholes- or maybe- "Stop. Please just- just stop." Timmy's voice cracks as he says this, tears shining in his eyes. Jimmy could see his own reflection within them. He could see his own crazed expression, and how it affected Timmy. He focused on every single detail of his face, the heavy eyebags, the dull blue that was usually an aqua, he even noticed a small redness in his cheeks. It hurt, it hurt so much and he didn't. He didn't know what to do, and he hated not knowing what to do. It's a horrible feeling to not know what's going on, or what's happening around you. It feels empty and insulting, like it's a personal attack on who you are, and what you've been working towards your whole life.

It was the first time Jimmy cried in years. Hes not much of a crier, he's more of a scream-into-a-pillow or sulk-quietly type of guy. He doesn't like making a big fuss about his emotions, especially as he got older and was taking more serious projects that could actually impact the people around him. The last time he cried was probably when he was 11- but now it felt uncontrollable. Timmy soon quickly followed suit, tears flowing out as small hicks can be heard out of him. It was one of the worst days of Jimmy's life, no, it was the worst day of his life. How can this be something so out of his control, that he was about to lose his best friend, one of the most important things to him in this entire multiverse and he could do nothing. Jimmy was in a hysterical fit, he pulled his hair a bit as he felt his breathing quicken, he didn't know what to do he just didn't he's stumped. Hes Jimmy Neutron! Boy genius! He has 8 PHDS and multiple Nobel prizes under his belt, he has explored places that the average human can't even fathom, and yet he can't even save- Timmy always knew what to say. He was quick to comfort Jimmy the moment he saw him spiraling. He gently put his hands on Jimmy's hands and lowered them from his head, Jimmy didn't like physical contact, but god if he could glue Timmy's hand to his he would. He looked at Jimmy's eyes and smiled his stupid bucktooth smile. As if that would make everything go away, as if that would erase the fact that he's going to go away forever, Jimmy couldn't help himself from smiling back though. God Timmy was the one about to forget everything and yet he comforts Jimmy? He ridiculed himself in his mind for making Timmy help him, and yet he wanted to hear whatever he had to say so, so badly. Timmy took a deep breath before talking "I've, never been the most articulate," his voice strained, like he's struggling to talk. "but please trust me when I say this. Even if I forget, there's nothing that could erase all the fun we've had together over the years. These memories, just cause they're not in my mind directly, don't erase the fact that they happened!" Timmy states with hope in his tone, he slightly rubs the back of Jimmy's hands with his thumb. "Somewhere, out there, in some form of reality, it showed that we spent all those years together fucking around, and that will always mean everything to me." He looks at Jimmy's eyes when he says that, and grins at him. Jimmy laughed a bit at that sentence, which caused Timmy to smile even more, he didn't stop talking though. "No matter who I meet, no matter where I go, no one can ever top you Neutron, and I promise that. Even if we both forgot somehow, even if the world was destroyed, it wouldn't erase the fact that at one point, we existed together, and everything was ok." After an hour or two, Timmy spent the whole day in his dimension. He said goodbye to Cindy, Sheen, Carl, and even Jimmy's parents. Sheen and Carl cried a bit, they didn't fully understand, but they said they'll miss him, and that they'll read the crimson chin comics Timmy lent them in remembrance. Cindy hugged Timmy for a few minutes, she actually considered Timmy really good company, and she lent Timmy one of her hair ties, even if he never used it, Timmy said hell keep forever. Jimmy's parents were.. hard to say the least. They both liked Timmy, but they didn't get the full grasp of him leaving, so Timmy just said that he was moving abroad to England. They just asked him to visit whenever he can and to keep in touch. It almost made Jimmy cry for a second time that day, which would have been a new record.

The walk to Jimmy's lab was quiet, barely a sound was made between either of them. You could hear the small footsteps they were both taking, walking a bit slower than average. Once Jimmy entered his lab, he could feel the cool breeze of the ac he left on lingering. He saw the portal, and he knew that he had to power it on. That he couldn't just keep Timmy here, but his feet wouldn't take another step. "Thank you." Timmy puts a hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he says that. Jimmy can't even say anything, he has no words could really express any emotion he's feeling right now. He just nods slightly and smiles at him. He knows that's probably the last time they'll ever smile at each other again. Jimmy finds the switch to the portal and boots it up, he sees the green swirl and feels nauseous just looking at it. Usually, the sight would trigger some excitement within Jimmy, but he just feels dread as he sees Timmy walking up to the portal. He really wished he could just freeze time and hang out with Timmy for one more second, but he knows he can't. Jimmy just sighed and was ready to wave goodbye, until he remembered something so important- god how could he forget- that he screamed at the top of his lungs- "TIMMY WAIT!" Right before he left, right before Timmy put his foot into the portal, Jimmy ran to his desk, ransacking it for- YES! Jimmy found the gift he was making Timmy at the corner of his table, with all the new sewing supplies he bought just for this occasion. Once he grabbed it he threw it to Timmy's way. Timmy snatched the hood and slightly gasped when he saw it. Timmy held it with such care, he called it sappy, but he couldn't erase the grin on his face. He tackled hugged Jimmy, and Jimmy barely could keep his footing. Jimmy could feel Timmy grabbing onto the back of his coat, and him relaxing onto his shoulder a bit more. Usually, Jimmy would complain about almost losing balance, and how suffocating hugs feel, but this time he latched onto Timmy as hard as he can. He pushed his head onto his shoulder and refused to be the first one to let go. It was the last hug hed ever receive from him, and he wanted to stay like this for as long as time would let them. Once Timmy let go, he turned around walking to the portal again. Jimmy could feel the tears pricking his eyes again, but he didn't feel as hopeless as this morning. "TIMMY!" Timmy abruptly stopped walking, mere centimeters from being transported into his dimension. "You're still the idiot I've known all these years if you think I'm not going to try and find you in the future." Timmy turns his head to see Jimmy smiling proudly at Timmy. "I don't care if your 30 working a desk job, or a famous comic book writer, or actor, or whatever! I'll go to your dimension myself, and find you. I'll figure out how to get your memory back, and.. if I can't- I'll just be your friend again, I'll do it all over again, and I promise that." Jimmy finishes off with a confident note. Timmy, in all his pessimistic glory, can't help but believe in Jimmy. "Thanks, Boy genius." "No problem, Average kid who no one understands."

[gayaest]

Hey, so I mean this entirely in good faith and just want to see where you're coming from.

When you draw pictures of people (OC), why do you only list their name, age, disabilities, and race (and some other stuff sometimes)? not likes or interests or hobbies or a look into their life? Is there somewhere else for me to find out more?

Personally, I don't find those to be the most interesting things about a character or a person or an object or anything like that, and I don't typically base characters around it (not saying you do, just not sure why else they take precidence over other aspects of their character)

I love your art and hope youu have a nice day!

I’ll try to answer this in the best way possible, but my wording might be off because I am more ill than usual, so bare with me.

1. Experiences with creating Original Characters is not a monolith — what you like to do with characters may not be what another creator likes to do with them. Some people never make backstories for their characters and keep them mainly for designs. Some people like to create backstories, and both of these things can exist and are okay. What you personally find interesting isn’t the same for everyone.

Even if I do have backstories for many of my characters, not all of them are even close to finished yet or even fully fleshed out, I often start with basics and go from there. If you are interested in the backstories of my characters, I have a toyhouse in which I post them.

2. Race, Culture, Age and Disability is a huge part of a lot of people’s lives, I can attest to that for myself. A lot of what I put down as “descriptors” for my characters are for people to get the absolute “bare bones” of who this character is, kind of like a bio on social media. It may not personally interest you, but Culture is a huge aspect on how people develop and think, the way people grow up and who they are around influence their thoughts, likes, dislikes, career, life choices and more. I find that many people from different cultures are often very happy at the representation of their culture being present if done respectfully, and causes a lot of happiness to feel seen.

I have a particular interest in researching humans, cultures, disabilities and diversity. You don’t have to have those interests, the same way I don’t particularly have to have an interest in “likes vs dislikes” of a character.

It would concern me if someone doesn’t care about peoples race or ethnicity, the same way it concerns me when a white person says “well, I don’t see color”, it erases the diverse experience of being human. It erases culture, experience, struggle and more. A lot of POC, myself included, find solace in knowing someone may understand a specific experience of what it’s like growing up a certain way. That we are not alone in our struggles.

And this all relates to Disability as well. Able-bodied people are not going to understand the life of a disabled person they haven’t lived in. Growing up disabled, becoming disabled later in life, in general /being/ disabled is a different way of life than the average person. We have struggles and experiences not everyone can relate to — which means by sharing this in a description of a character — it can actually tell a lot about what they’ve been through and understand.

Other disabled people may not understand what life is like for another disabled person — I have had numerous asks and messages by other disabled people and able-bodied people alike telling me they are happy to see representation of a specific disability, or that they discovered a disability through my artwork and they were able to research it or even apply it to their medical training. This is a huge reason for why I do what I do.

I’m glad this is a question in good faith — Thank you for liking my art, and i hope you have a good day as well.

If you have anymore questions, I have an FAQ:

[ranticore]

thinking about characters fursonas is always more fun to me than directly anthro-ifying them because it's not just a question of "what animal would they be" since before you can even ask that you have to figure out how they would pick a fursona, and i almost feel like that says more about a character than what animal they choose.

like. would they want an animal that represents their ideal self? something that represents how they see themself to be currently? and how well does that perception match up with these actual reality? or would they pick based on something less complicated like "favorite animal"/"movie character they liked”.

all that leadup to ask, how do you think your mvf guys would pick their fursonas?

💯💯💯 literally it's one of the most fun characterisation exercises you can do, it tells you SO much about them, how they view themselves, what they want others to think of them and so on. all that good stuff. and then you get to delve into furry subcultures, influential artists etc

so on to the actual fursoneys themselves

Jean-Baptiste - aforementioned hummingbird with a suit from idk clockworkcreature or something. the subculture/art style is realistic but very humanised, basically a bird head on a feathery human body, no wing-hands, with a Georgian style of dress (potentially with steampunk elements) and named after a famous scientist from the period. He would not be an artist, but he would be one of those ppl who's a bigtime engineer making huge money who invests heavily in commissions of art (usually traditional media like oils, colouring pencil, etc) and writing about this character, who is a kind of inventor/old-timey scientist with a highly detailed backstory and canon setting. He chose the hummingbird because it's beautiful, precise, and tenacious, and also just because he likes the 'rare fursona species' aura. He has VERY strong negative view on poodling (when someone wears a partial fursuit with their skin showing) and has been posting to the same old rp forum for the past 20 years. Rude and bitchy but one of those guys who always pays well and tips for commissions because money is no object. an important part of the economy

Bowman - exactly the opposite to everything above. His fursona is a retriever-ish dog called Dog or Mutt or something with a single-colour palette and the art style is new school big toothy grin etc. fursona exclusively wears board shorts. He draws at a beginner level and he's obviously having a blast with it. The muscles are very detailed (so's the bulge) & the art is clearly bara influenced, especially around the eyes. He wouldn't have any interest in suiting i don't think but you will find him at the furry rave in a neoprene harness. He wouldn't have much money to commission with and his twitter feed would be mostly reposts of other people's art (without permission)

Islin - ok you know that one genre of art style used exclusively by dragon furries where it's got realistic scale textures, backgrounds, and the ref sheets are usually incredibly detailed and the dragons in their anthro forms are always absurdly ripped. He can draw this, i know it in my heart. The design is pretty generic western dragon, all things considered, I don't think he has the imagination for more (sorry). Character's name is something appropriately fantasy-ish like Xyrgoryx. He could definitely take commissions as a side hustle but as a perfectionist and professional worrier it would overwhelm him easily. You would probably not find him at a convention at all, I'd say such spaces do not appeal to him. He's been on Furcadia tho.

Félix - generic twinky fox in a thin-lines washboard abs disney-inspired art style with an absurdly deep backstory which we never get to see because the character is only ever drawn being railed. He can draw but more importantly he knows how to take the commissioner's money and run, delete his account, and remake under a different username. Was able to afford a fullsuit from Made Fur You and that alone gave him enough clout to continually avoid allegations of past misbehaviour. Every so often someone goes "hey isn't that a known scammer" when they see him at a con but it never sticks. Later he would get cancelled immediately for saying he "didn't care about" right-wing furries as long as their art was cute.

Senca - Almost certainly a feline-based original species or hybrid. The art style is very goldenwolf with spiritual/neopagan influences, mostly traditional media and ACEOs in oil pastel so it's got a kind of smudgy look. Her character has the same name as her and she considers it a 'truesona' of sorts. She's an established artist and well-respected but struggles to keep up with what Tha Youth are doing and her personal website has looked the same since the year 2006. She has a realistic partial suit but doesn't wear it much anymore, preferring to vend at the dealer's den instead. She always knows way too much gossip about any given person you could point out to her but she insists she isn't involved in what she'll delicately & vaguely refer to as 'drama'.

Léa - she was attracted by the promise of easy entry into a supportive and friendly readymade community and bought an expensive Closed Species design to be her fursona. She tried to participate in events but instead got sucked into a cesspit of petty warfare between her CS community and a very similar CS with design elements that may have been inspired by hers (after all, 'dog with kinda long pointy ears and a big fluffy tail' is VERY copyrightable). She goes along with it, afraid of losing her space in the panopticon discord community by voicing a dissenting opinion and it'll eat her up from the inside. until one day she wakes up and realises she paid €400 to gossip and participate in a group that bans you from adding horns to your fursona's head (a legendary trait restricted to the CS owner and their favourite sycophants) whose main form of bonding ritual seems to be reposting their enemies' art to mock it and colour-pick to prove the palettes were copied. She explains all this to Bowman in one big tearful rant on their first offline date at Eurofurence and he helps her get away from that community.

Helena - that was her copyrighted closed species. and she IS litigious about it.

Erica - it's a pine marten in a modern sketchy "just got an ipad and procreate" style, really cute, fun design, good coordinating outfit, honestly ticks all the boxes but then 5 days after he posts that awesome themed ref sheet he's got a brand NEW fursona and this time it's a cute lil jackdaw, again lovely design all around looks great but wait no in 5 days time it's a roe deer, no wait it's an otter, it's a gecko, it's a

Pascal - a sick as hell cartoony golden eagle with an electric guitar and sunglasses and you can imagine it airbrushed onto the side of a campervan because that's where it lives. he's strictly offline, doesn't know what a furry is, never been on twitter, but he is 100% certain in his heart that this bird is a true representation of himself