#I'll eventually learn how to draw clothes

[what-aboutno]

Been sketching designs for my wriochiluc fic

Bonus little Diluc

[banj0possum]

umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?

Fish Bait

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader

CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?

🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.

🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.

🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.

🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.

🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.

🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"

🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"

🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.

🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.

🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.

🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.

🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"

🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."

🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"

🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.

🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"

🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."

🌊 "...You're not?"

🌊 "Yeah..."

🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.

🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...

🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.

🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.

🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.

🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?

🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.

🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.

🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"

🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."

🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"

🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."

🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.

🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.

🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.

🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"

🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.

🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.

🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!

🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.

🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.

🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.

🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"

🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.

🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"

🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.

🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.

🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.

🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.

🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.

🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."

🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.

🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"

this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh

[starry-bi-sky]

surprise phantom doodles for 'late at night when the nightingale sings' '

i was brainstorming today after classes over Danny's ghost form in 'late at night when the nightingale sings' and decided to draw out some concept ideas! Specifically for when he was eleven and freshly ghosted.

Canonically, as per "Before the Nightingale Sings" Danny was wearing one of his parents' jumpsuits when he died, meaning it was much too big for him going into the portal. As Phantom it shows -- now, I'm still learning how to draw baggy clothes, so his clothes aren't nearly as baggy as I picture them being, but I hope I got the general feel across. -- by how his suit seems to sag off him, with Danny using bandages (or, more likely hair ties) to cinch his gloves off at the wrist because they tended to slip and fall off.

He has an even greater tendency to float as Phantom, not just because of the ghost thing, but also because his boots are so big and heavy that he tends to trip over them if he's walking or running. They're loud and clunky, and I'm thinking that eventually he just ends up getting rid of them at some point because they're so in the way.

The shading over his face is something I came up with while drawing, and while I hope to be able to keep it, I might end up dropping it before it gets written into the fic. My idea was for it to kinda like, be a unique way to represent his love for space by having a shadow darken over his forehead that steadily gets lighter the further down his face it gets, and in the shadow-y parts are star-freckles, but I'll need to see how it looks digitally before I confirm it. It looks cool with just pencil and paper, but whether or not it looks cool (rather than busy) in color is a different story.

His eyes are probably my favorite part! But I'm also a sucker for inhuman looking eyes. His pupils are, as you'll notice in the pictures, noted to be white, and shaped like four-point stars. His hair is also meant to be shorter, but I didn't feel like testing my short-hair-drawing-skills with the concept drawings for Phantom just yet.

The "new ghosts have a very specific feel" thing was another thing I thought of as I was drawing, and I thought it'd be kinda neat. The townsfolk are scared of Phantom initially because of the whole "ah! a ghost!" thing, but also because Danny's legitimately giving off like, the worst "not a deer anymore" vibes ever. Not unintentionally, mind you! But still giving them off.

I don't know how to articulate it well, but new ghosts have this "new car" feel to them that, to the living, feels pretty similar to encountering a liminal space, and it's because of how fresh the ectoplasm is in their creation. They're still "fresh out of the oven steaming" so to speak. They invoke a sense of unease and foreboding that's pretty unique to new ghosts, like a combination uncanny valley and "I have a bad feeling about this".

To ghosts it feels different! New ghosts don't spook the other dead like they do the living, so this is only a phenomenon with the humans. To the other dead it's more like that "new car smell" except its that "fresh ectoplasm" smell that tells them the other ghost is fresh out the grave dirt. This feeling usually fades after a few weeks.

It gets cut off, but the drawing in the corner says "death scar is in center of chest rather than on his arm" and that's because I've mentioned before that I think Blood Blossom Danny's death was a little different in comparison to typical fanon. Rather than being killed by the button electrocuting him, the fabric of reality tearing a hole straight through where he was standing did! Luckily for him, Danny was dead before the pain could hit.

As a result, Danny's got a pretty large but luckily relatively unnoticeable "blast" scar in the center of his chest, and while he doesn't have that big ol' hole as a ghost (most of the time), his chest was the last to physically form. His ghost formed right behind Sam and Tucker, which was a very trippy experience for their already traumatizing experience. They could see Danny's physical core, which pulsed like a heartbeat and cast the whole room in a light like the aurora borealis, before it was steadily encased by his physical body. Very horrifying to see. Danny doesn't remember this. It has a tendency to go numb sometimes, and he developed a habit of rubbing his chest.

Technically Danny does have a pair of goggles too -- but I haven't mastered drawing goggles yet, and I didn't wanna mess with drawing them. So for now, he's gone goggle-less for doodles. I do think his ghost form -- at least clothingwise -- has changed by the time he's 13, but I'll need to put some extra thought into it.

There are some other things I'd like to incorporate too -- like his interests outside of Space -- into his ghost form, but again, that'll take some brainstorming, and probably doesn't initially set in until later.

[lyonnerileyauthor]

hitting your writing goals

I've been getting a lot of asks lately about how I write, so I wanted to put it all in one post.

this was my writing history for Five Gifts for the Blacksmith's Wife.

it helps IMMENSELY when I go into a book with a Tumblr short to use as my outline. it gives me a sense of the mood, the characters, the central conflict, everything I need.

I rarely use outlines because most of the time, I have that base to work with. the other thing I do is WRITE A BLURB. write out what it would sound like if you were pitching someone your book.

here's the blurb for Five Gifts:

When her village faces a winter of starvation, Sita draws the shortest straw. Now she’s to be given to the orcs across the river in exchange for food and supplies so her family can survive. Given the chance to choose her own husband from among the eligible orc bachelors, she selects Gurrek, the reluctant blacksmith, who clearly doesn’t want her. He’s the safest option. Gurrek has always wanted a wife of his own, but not like this. Now he’s saddled with a human woman who needs new shoes, new clothes, and can’t even speak his language. He wants nothing to do with her, and yet her sweet, strong personality draws him in closer with every passing day. As Sita and Gurrek try to find a place to fit within each other’s lives, attraction begins to bloom between them. But Gurrek refuses to touch a woman who never wanted to be his in the first place. Can Sita break through the blacksmith’s high walls to become his true wife, mind, body, and soul?

boom! you know where it starts, what the central conflict is, and the question leading into the second half of the book. then I usually have a separate doc called "third act" where I work out what the climax and resolution will look like. this is sometimes when I'll write another little short to capture the tone and vibe of the climax.

okay so the writing part.

you can't wait for your muse to come to you. the more you wait, the less she visits. you have to go out there and chase that bitch down.

I show up almost every day to write. (I do take off days, usually to do admin or make videos.) I just eke out what words I can, even if it sucks ass. eventually, if you really just muscle it, let yourself get EXCITED about the characters and the story you want to tell, the words will start coming. but you can't do it if you don't show up.

I've also trained my brain in some very specific ways. making coffee is my "start" button. when I make coffee and sit down at the desk, I've trained my brain to say "okay writing time." I always make the coffee, then open the doc and write. no exceptions. it took a while to build the habit but now it's like pavlovian. sit down with coffee, write book. I've also adapted this to having a bubbly water or tea at night.

rolling the ball downhill

the goal is to get the ball rolling so the book starts writing itself. you know that feeling, the ZONE, where you know what's going to happen and it just streams out of you.

I use something I call the but-therefore method. stg learned it from a video by the South Park guys.

if you're reading your outline aloud to yourself and you say, "and then this happens," I often find myself running into that and being like "but what?"

every step in the outline should be a but or a therefore. the blacksmith wants a wife, but not this one (a human wife). therefore, he's mean to her because he wanted an orc wife. but, he finds himself growing fond of her because she tries so hard. therefore, he wants to court her. etc etc

this gets me out of all KINDS of pickles. when I run into a roadblock I just try to think of 1) what could get in the way of where they're headed or what they want, 2) what consequences it could have. good time to think about what your character's buttons are and what would push them.

setting goals

goals really help me push through when it's hard. I know it CAN be easy so it's like, how do I find the stream that I can get swept off in? you gotta hunt and hunt around for it sometimes and there are days when I never get into the zone.

I set a range for my daily goal, like 2500-5000. if I do 2500, that's fine, I can set it aside for the day. if I do 5000, keep pushing if I want but that's a good place to stop. I find that by 2000 words is when I know whether it's going to be a good writing day or a bad writing day. bad writing day, i can stop at 2500 and be happy. good writing day (especially toward the end of a book when the dominoes are falling over) I can get up to 8k, but I try not to do that anymore because it turns my brain to mush.

ok that's all for now I hope this was helpful :)

[digitalagepulao]

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King: my design notes [!! click here for the full line-up !!] [click here for just the goodies on tumblr]

also titled, "I underestimated my file sizes" TAT Separate images and info below the read more, beware this is LONG <3

Stone Monkey: himbs baby, that is all <3 he's mostly based off the François Langur, but some of his anatomy and proportions lean more on the Gray Langur and Macaque side of things. His facial fur sort of forms a pentagon shape for the five elements, and I gave him ginger fur cus it's a common depiction for him but also baby langurs are very bright orange, and him not growing dark feels like an apt display of his more childish side, both good and bad. His nails are golden for a bit of a "hidden gem" from a stone egg. Also keeping the tail either in a spiral of C-curve when "engaged", and when droopy it has a feel of a heavy rope. Old World monkeys don't have prehensile tails, he can use it for balance and basic mobility but it's not a third hand for the sake of keeping his monkey-ness.

Handsome Monkey King: in one of the poems the monkeys are said to weave grass for mattresses, so I can see them coming up with a crown of woven grass and never-fading leaves and flowers for their king at the very least. His face skin is darker as an adult, but not much else changes overall. The fuzzy upper lips and sideburns are a feature of the species I'm basing him on and it felt like a good fit to add. I also love the forest langurs are so long-furred, makes for a good way to give him dimension but also, the linework style reminds me of old woodcut shorthands for fur. Added a jade coin for the symbolism, and it feels fitting that the king of such a miraculous mountain would have a treasure like that on him. Placcid chill eyes are imperative, dude's not had an existential crisis yet, he's straight up vibing.

Sun Wukong: during his odd-ten years away from home, he learned human manners so he can stand but, I can see him still needing to lean on his tail to keep up his balance here and there. As he reaches the Western Continent (India) and learns the Way under Patriarch Subodhi, he adopts proper clothes for an apprentice and eventually becomes a Rishi. He dons his facial paint from then on, and after he masters the Way, there's a brightness in his pupils to show his cultivated immortality. The beads are purple solely to stand out over the deluge of oranges that is his design.

Great Sage Equal to Heaven: really went all out on this one orz this is Wukong at his most egotistical and ambitious, and I wanted his fit to truly embody that. Took bits from Peking Opera costumes and common depiction elements of him, with some bit of extra for appropriate levels of flair, like the phoenix feather design. I wanted to go for a mountain pattern mail but I couldn't figure out how to draw it, so I winged a pattern. I,,, doubt I'll ever draw this armor as detailed as here, but I wanted it to feel a bit overwhelming to look at, while also seeming like it doesn't quite fit him perfectly like it's swallowing him. Bit of a "baby wearing their parent's shoes" kind of vibe; he's stupidly powerful but he doesn't have what it takes to sit on the throne of Heaven. Also I leaned his expression to how he might appear during the Havoc in Heaven and then his bet with the Buddha. Full unbrindled rage murder monkey <3

-- Ruyi Jingu Bang: can't quite move on without my notes on the golden-hooped cudgel, now can I? The secondary hoops are there for further design appeal and for my own visualization of how the staff changes size (the hoops move over the staff's length as if to push it outward or inward). The metal is dark damascus alloy, though the pattern can be omitted for ease of drawing. One hoop end depicts a dragon, the other a phoenix, and in the middle of the staff is the canon inscription as described in the books, in seal script. Glow is optional and mostly for aesthetics.

Sun Pilgrim: out of his stolen armor, Wukong seems to swim in his robes but in a less overwhelming way. Went for the simple fillet headband cus his face is busy enough as it is. I know he's skilled enough to skin a tiger into pretty decent squares, but after one too many battles, anything would get tattered. He wears red, teal, black and yellow, four of the five cardinal colors, while white (the West) is still missing. His red and black half-robe doesn't fully cover the yellow underneath, a call back to his golden armor; he tries to use his wisdom and teachings to fight back the impulses of his past, but they still shine through at times. I kept only the leg bangs for dynamic elements to better show movement, but also one could say he's got.... golden hoops (haha get it, like his cudgel?? :oD)

Victorious Fighting Buddha: leaned hard on the actual portrayals of the Buddha. Seeing that he's depicted with dark/blue skin, it felt appropriate to let the guy grow out of his baby ginger fur and into adult black, but a patch remains where the golden headband used to be. I didn't want to give him long hair so no bun, but instead, his fur has a sorta lotus-petals shape now rather than his single point. His face paint changes into a more domino-mask style, and his brow white line resembles a teardrop urna. I made the mail piece he holds longer to keep the flowy bits of his previous outfits, and I turned Ruyi Jingu Bang into the sword he wields.

Hello hi, this robbed me of three days of my life and I'd like to receive compensation x.x Anyway hope you enjoy this lad, I know I do! Also if you wanna send me asks about him pls feel welcome to, I'd love to chat about this bastard monkey (affectionate) (loving) (i`d die for him)

[arthropodrespecter]

2013 vs 2024

tbh, this is incredibly difficult for me. as a trans woman, there are certain expectations for posts like these. some gruff but sad looking man who was transformed into a happy beautiful girl via hormones. so you might think that nothing has changed. or perhaps i have gone backwards, gotten hairier, bigger, becoming even more of a man than i started off as.

this might be hard to read, so i'll put the rest under a read more. CW for homelessness, starvation, transmisogyny, and probably a few things i'm missing.

my transition has been messy. in some ways, you might say that i spent the first 25 years of my life transitioning. as a child i was efemminate, loved to play dress up and dolls, but my father was so against this that he filed a lawsuit against my mother, getting a court order forbidding her from "forcing me to crossdress." this set the tone for the rest of my childhood, which is a story i will not get into here because it is much worse than the story i'm trying to tell.

growing up in a christian fundamentalist home meant that it wasn't until much later, after my mother gained custody and i had gone on to experience even further ruination of my life, that i even learned that trans people exist. that this was a thing you could do, could be. a brief flash, something hiding behind my eyes, and i had locked it away. of course i wasn't trans. i was an athlete, a martial artist, a musician, why would i need to think about gender?

when i was 16, i joined tumblr. i saw a blooming transgender community, got to see the inner thoughts and conversations that trans people were having, couldn't avoid certain things any longer. i started to identify as nonbinary, eventually even coming out to my mother, who certainly TRIED to be supportive. it was exciting, made my heart race a little, made me scared. i had no idea what i was doing, or how my world was about to turn upside down and inside out.

the summer i turned 18, i was severely injured in a martial arts tournament. my right knee had caved in, the bone at the site of the joint crushed by a man i had thought was my friend. i didn't realize what had happened, and so didn't go to a doctor until two weeks later, at which point the damage was considered irreversible. everything i was disappeared. i lost all will to live. i stopped drawing, stopped playing music. i started drinking heavily. my family knew i was struggling but any efforts to fix the situation just made it worse. my mother and older brother had been putting more and more pressure on me to get a job and get out of the house, even though i could barely walk. my older brother told me that my mother was going to kick me out if i couldn't start contibuting. i still couldn't. i became homeless for the first time at the age of 19.

when you're homeless, it's like every single day is drawn out into countless hours, and you either have nothing to do, or far too much to do, and nothing in between. i had an online partner at the time, someone who turned out to be a chaser targeting suspiciously egg shaped men and nonbinary people, who spent the entire time getting more and more frustrated that i didn't have the time to be a fucktoy. i ended up insitutionalized for a month, after which i was kicked to the curb and left with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on my back. any journey of self discovery i may have been having was on hold until i wasn't fighting for survival.

my rescue came from a nonbinary lesbian who reached out to me. i was offered a room, a place to stay for no cost. they helped me break up with my partner. i found myself in a new sort of situationship, but at a confusing cost. why was this lesbian interested in me? was that even okay? eventually we had a conversation. they revealed to me that they had thought i was a trans woman. the fact that i had been seen as a woman hit me like a truck in a blindzone i didn't know i had.

after a difficult few days of arguing with myself, i couldn't hide from it. i was a woman. maybe i had always been a woman. a thought more terrifying than it had any right to be.

i grew my hair out. i started shaving. after a few months, i was even able to book my first HRT appointment (thank you state of washington trans healthcare laws). i came out to my mother a second time, and her reaction was much different this time. maybe due to the distance that had grown between us, the past hostility that left scars still bleeding, but i suspect it was because telling her that her firstborn son was actually a woman was much scarier to her than telling her that i didn't really care about gender.

this photo is from the day that i had my first HRT appointment. my soft chin, once a weakness, could be bared proudly, the ambiguity in my face becoming something that i cherished.

a year later, i had the longest hair of my life. if i shaved and wore makeup, and dressed right, i could get gendered correctly so long as i didn't speak. in that regard, i was truly getting the full experience of womanhood. my relationship with my partner was going strong. i thought that i had found my forever.

things got messy. you will probably hear me say this again. you won't find many better ways to describe my life, other than messy. my partner had always been polyamorous, but i was not, and had not ever pretended that this was not the case. so when one of my partners friends confessed her love to them, they went into panic mode. suddenly they were pushing everyone away, reverting to old bad habits and anxieties, and our relationship began to fall apart.

the friend, we'll call her A, pretended to move on, started dating someone else. my own friendship with A was strained by the situation, and her new partner, a butch lesbian named rowan, seemed to be suffering for it. i realized that the only way our relationships could survive was if we tried to work out an agreement to polyamory. in the end that wasn't enough, but i was desperate. i was starting to see the cracks, realizing that if this fell apart, i would be homeless again. my leg injury had already been so badly worsened from my first experience with homelessness, i knew that going through it again would be the end of me.

since my partner and A were now seeing each other, i began to get ignored. the only time either of them spent talking to me was talking about each other, either joyous or trying to fix some new problem. at this point, i started getting to know rowan. we had a lot in common, i had never talked to a butch before, let alone known one, and seeing the way that they navigated gender made me jealous. i didn't know why.

more and more, rowan and i were separated from the broader relationship, and as we talked more, something developed. i had already felt it the first time we spoke, on some level, but it had grown and grown, from respect, to admiration, to desire and love. we were in a polyamorous relationship after all, so it made sense to me. but shortly after, when i told my partner what i was feeling, they freaked out. this wasn't the agreement, they had only agreed to them being able to date other people, didn't think that it would need to be specified because i wasn't polyamorous.

the entire relationship falls apart and we go back to being two separate couples, and the end of that came swiftly after. they cheated on me with A, and when i found out, that was it. my now ex partner told me that i could stay at the apartment until the lease ran out, and they would move back in with their parents. they took all the furniture, i was left with an ancient computer, a blanket, some clothes, and two pillows. my depression came back with a vengeance, and i stopped eating. by the time the lease ran out, i had lost a dangerous amount of weight. i became homeless for the second time at age 22.

this time, after only six months, i found a thin sliver of hope. i was given a place to stay. a single-wide trailer that i would share with three other trans women and a hairy nonbinary lesbian. you've probably heard the stories of similar situations. it's impossible to have healthy boundaries in a space the size of a can of sardines. or healthy anything really. i got involved in an incredibly toxic relationship with one of the other trans women, who i found out was dating nearly a dozen other people.

the only thing i could do was try to feel wanted. desired. i began experimenting with my image.

i re-established contact with rowan, but there was so much there that i couldn't bring myself to face yet. as i began to experiment with more masculine presentation, those around me took a greater interest in me. i was an object of desire. it was the most worth i had felt i ever had.

i wasn't eating again. so my weight kept dropping. in the three-odd years since my first encounter with homelessness, i had lost 30% of my entire bodyweight. this only made my physical issues get worse and worse.

i wasn't done with experimentation though. what could i do with this newfound territory?

the time came. i couldn't stay anymore. the relationship had fallen apart, and my connection to the household had been sent away in exile. the irony of this is not lost on me. i was lucky enough to be able to couch surf for a few months this time.

i lost weight again.

and again.

my knee got worse and worse. my iliotibial band tore. my birthday came and went, nobody celebrated except for rowan, now my only friend.

a week after my birthday, a lesbian couple contacted me. told me that they had a spare bedroom, and that if i could cover the costs of my own food, could stay for as long as i liked.

i started HRT again. rowan and i had managed to work through all the shit and scum of our past and started a relationship anew. it felt like this could be real.

i started to look a lot like my mom. kind of uncomfortably like my mom. rowan was butch, so i had thought i should be a femme. i didn't understand what that meant, but whatever it was i attempted, it wavered dramatically.

i began to switch, every month or so, between masculine and feminine presentation. my chest had grown enough that it was visible now, and i experienced an equal amount of joy and fear when i was gendered correctly in public, having learned to fear people finding out that i was a trans woman.

the weight didn't come back. it was like my body had burned itself so far down that it could not regrow. i had no energy, and my physical condition continued to deteriorate. but i was allowed to be myself. and i was in love with a butch. maybe that would be enough.

i began to develop a fashion sense of my own. the butch label was starting to appeal to me. and my roommates seemed to agree, since they both shifted towards butchness and masculinity alongside me. but it wasn't to last. one of my roommates, a TME lesbian i'm gonna call M, suddenly went off on a transmisogynistic rant to me. M's partner was a trans woman, and hearing this caused me to suddenly re-evaluate everything. did this happen because M viewed me as more masculine now, a more acceptable target? would this happen to G, M's partner?

i hardcore shifted gears back to feminine presentation. it felt safer. i stopped eating again. things weren't okay, but they were bearable this way. but then, one day, we got locked out of our apartment. a stupid, played out thing that happens to everyone at least once. while my roommate G went to see if the apartment manager was in with a spare key, i attempted to climb our balcony and get in through the unlocked back door. when i was up on the railing of our balcony, it gave way, and i fell to the asphalt below, breaking my back. following a trend that i set half a decade ago, i didn't realize it had happened. my back hurt, but i thought it would go away. it did, replaced by a vast numbness through the middle of my back. i began to collapse any time i tried to exhert myself physically at all. i would only find out why years later. the fact that i couldn't contribute to chores anymore, and nobody knew why, made the situation with M deteriorate much faster.

at my lowest point in years. my relationship with rowan was the only thing that kept me from giving up, but after the third time M decided to spew vileness at me i just spent months locked away in my room, terrified that any time i saw M was going to be another lecture about how i was disrespectful, loud, obtrusive, intimidating, too quiet, too lazy, whatever incoherent train of thought i would have to face next.

it was too much to handle in combination with the events of 2020, the lockdowns, the illness, the forest fires, things ended up coming to a head. at age 25, i became homeless for the third time, during the pandemic and a wildfire that filled the air with plastic fumes so thick you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

i got in contact with my mother and had her take my cat, because i knew i couldn't take care of her like this. that was the last time i saw my cat in person before she died. rowan was frantically trying anything and everything possible to help me. i thought that this might be the end.

three and a half years ago today i got the best news of my life. there was a way out. it would be a long and tricky road, involving moving my whole life to a new country. but we could do it. not only could we do it, but we actually did it. in a months time, i was in rowan's arms. for the first time in our years of knowing each other, there was nothing keeping us apart any longer.

i was finally able to rest. able to eat. i started to regain weight for the first time in nearly a decade. i felt my energy come back, slowly at first, and then more and more until i was capable of functioning, even if at a low level. it's around then that i find out the truth of what happened to my back. it still hasn't properly healed.

in my gratefullness for life and love, i briefly forgot my identity crisis. i was happy to just exist without fear and pain. it wasn't until about a year ago, when a miracle occurred, that this changed.

i woke up one morning, feeling more energetic than usual. i think to myself, maybe i can do some light exercise, for old times sake.

my knee doesn't hurt.

my knee doesn't hurt.

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

a wound that i thought would dictate my life forever, given actual time to rest and food to fuel the process, had healed. everything that i had ever given up on came rushing back into my head, ideas about who i could be, what i could become, what other injuries i might be able to recover from if i treat them right and rebuild myself. ten months ago i began to work out consistently. my back is slowly healing. i am stronger than i ever was before.

i have had to rebuild myself so many times. did i ever discover the secret of butchness in the process? no, that's something that i think will take the rest of my life. for now, my butchness is an enduring pillar, the only part of myself that never fully burnt away. standing up for myself, being my own person, loving another butch, refusing to lose the kindness i so desperately clung to my whole life, refusing to limit myself and my dreams, this is who i am. i am friends with other butches. i am not alone anymore. for now, this is butch. this is me.

[marshmallowprotection]

Thinking about shopping for matching clothes and trying out matching hairstyles with fem!GE.......wife..........

Saeran held up a pair of sundresses to show you, one was covered in orange blossoms and the other was bathed in strawberries, "What do you think about this matching set? Orange and pink are popular this time of year, and I think you would look lovely in orange, my love. It's warm enough to compliment your features and it doesn't freeze them out, either."

You pressed a hand to your lip to stifle your giggle. Of course, what could you have expected from your sweet wife? She always wanted to wear something that matched, and you indulged in her requests because it made you feel even closer to her than you were before. It was wonderful when she suggested the outfits because she knew just the right textures! It was always soft against your skin, but not scratchy enough to leave you irritated.

She had a knack for cute fashion when you told her you would wear anything she found.

You knew she wouldn't understand the reference, but you would still point it out and explain it to her afterward, "Like Orange Blossom and Strawberry Shortcake?"

She blinked, "The flower that accompanies the fruit and one of my favorite cakes?"

"No, no," you typed something into your phone and held it up to show her what you meant. "They're popular characters that started as greeting cards and were eventually adapted into a cartoon for people to enjoy. Orange Blossom and Strawberry Shortcake are best friends, and a lot of fans like to draw them as girlfriends. So, when you picked those up, that's the first thing I thought of!"

Saeran studied the characters with a rosy smile growing on her face. She always loved learning new things, and you loved being the one who got to teach her about things she didn't realize she wanted to learn more about. She held those dresses closer to her chest and let you tuck your phone away.

"That settles it, then," she said.

"What?"

"We're going to dress like them," her voice was adamant. Her big blue eyes sparkled with excitement. "I saw your eyes light up when I first picked these up, but now that I know it's something special to your childhood, I want to make a memory with you that's based on these cute girls. That makes this even more special than just matching our outfits. So, do you want to be Orange or Strawberry?"

How could you say no to that face?

"I'll be Orange Blossom," you gently took the dress from her hands with a smile of your own. "After all, you said it suited me." 

[starrysharks]

OK so I'm feeling some guilt I started to draw cartoony like you but I get frustrated because it does bot look perfect like yours it's mostly small stuff like colors and clothes I love making cartoony body's sometimes clothing but I have color picking because I'm still new to art that has colors is my feelings normal or is it wrong of me? And how do I pick colors because it frustrated me to no end and made me stop drawing for months anyway in short summary how do I color the right way like I guess I know skin tones but anything else goes wrong and the other summary is how do you draw clothing because I can't for the life of me get clothing right

don't worry - it's normal to get frustrated when drawing. i know i've literally quit and deleted entire illustrations in the past because i didn't like how the colors came out, and i can spend whole hours just choosing base colors TwT i think the important part about learning art is not to rush. i'm seriously flattered you see me as inspiration, but what worked best for me back when i heavily referenced other artists was "mixing" styles together to create a "new" one - so i'd recommend studying and copying multiple artists you like and trying to blend their styles into one if that makes sense! ^^

hating color picking is completely normal when you're first starting out, and even late into art like i said before - i've been making original digital art on ibispaint for about 5 years now, and it's still difficult. but it's easy to make it fun, and the best way to do that imo is to experiment! i'd recommend studying color theory on a larger scale, and understanding how certain colors might look completely different based on where you put them. or maybe make an illustration and color it in a bunch of alternative ways! also, having "bad" or "awful" color skills starting out is OK - i still think my colors suck sometimes even now lol.

anyway, the best way for me to color pick is to just use that color for whatever the OG artist used for their art. let's use alex ahad as an example because i find his art and color use super interesting -

i don't usually color pick, but when i do, i typically start with picking the eye color. then, based off of the eye color, i chose a base color based on the character's color pallete (easier of the eye color is already close to the main color of the character, which for clyde is turquoise).

then, i pick more colors directly from the reference, for stuff like skin. at this point i have a good idea of the colors i want to use and stop color picking from the ref, but there's no shame if you still feel you need to.

after that, based on the colors i picked, i'll color in the rest of the piece. i usually end up changing the colors that i did take from the reference due to experimenting - for me, i just use color picking as a sort of stepping stone for when i'm not sure how to color a piece the exact way i want.

eventually, you can learn to color pick by eye rather than with the picking tool in your art program, tho that takes a lot of knowledge on color theory.

really there is no "right" way to color, especially for skin imo - don't limit yourself to just peach, tan and brown. clyde's skin is bright white, but i still used a yellowy color here because it was relative to the other colors in the piece. i've also used "alien" tones for human-toned characters in the past before!

and about clothing folds - i can make a full post on that if anybody else is interested OuO

[cartoonsbrainrot]

"Clash Of The Cousins AU"

You're probably wondering "What is "Clash Of The Cousins"?" Well, to put it simply, this is my take on "What if Hades and Persephone were a thing in Disney's Hercules and their kids were part of the animated tv series?".

Basically, I had this idea where Zagreus, Prince of The Underworld, enrolled at Prometheus Academy and became friends with his cousin, Hercules. The title for the fictitious episode where Zag makes his first appearance became "Hercules and the Clash of the Cousins", as a play on "Clash of the Titans", ergo the name of this AU.

Haven't worked out all the details yet, but I'll get there eventually.

But while we're here, let's dive into the members of the House of Hades, to get a feeling of who they are:

Hades — we all know Disney's version of Hades, there's not much to add, other than the fact that he's in love with his wife and she's the only one who can tell him what to do(in this house, the Queen is the true head of the family). His children are his pride and joy, Hades is only sweet and gentle with Persephone and their kids (but don't let anyone know that).

Persephone — there is a "canon" design for her (pink skin and flower crown, long blonde hair and purple eyes) if you look it up and, for me, that design works, but only because @donttouchhadesbaklava draws her so beautifully. In terms of personality, Persephone is a very sweet Goddess, friendly and outgoing, but don't let that fool you. She's still a queen, regal in the presence of mortals and Gods alike, but can switch to a more darker, sinister version of herself if you piss her off, or (Gods forbid), disrespect her and her family.

Zagreus — firstborn child of Hades and Persephone and their only son, Zag is calm and collected, like his mother. And, just like Seph, if you manage to enrage him, you better count your days. He's also a good strategist, courtesy of the lessons Hades gave his son. After all, the boy is the Prince of the Underworld. He's bound to learn from his father how to run the place.

As for his looks, Zagreus is his father's son, from the flaming blue hair, to the black clothes. His skin is a few shades bluer than Hades', but that's mostly because the kid spends time in the sun. His eyes are purple, like Persephone's, and his head shape is rounder, his facial features not as pronounced as his dad's. But they are still very distinctly a mirror of Hades' own face (younger and full of life though).

Melinoe — second born, first daughter, and the apple of her dad's eyes. Don't get me wrong, Hades loves his son, but the man is a girl dad at heart.

Meli is sardonic, and at times forgets that the people around her have feelings. She does care for her siblings and loves her parents, but she's not exactly the one to show it. Seph sees a lot of her husband in their daughter. Hades spoiled Meli when she was little, and maybe that's why she has that attitude.

Her skin is similar to her brother's, her facial features more leaning towards her mother's and her eyes are the same shade of yellow as her father's. Her hair is green though (You know, 'cause blue + yellow = green. That, and her grandmother, Demeter, is green in the movie.) Melinoe also keeps her hair shorter than Persephone's, about shoulder length. She says "it's easier to manage it this way".

Makaria — youngest child and sweet as can be. While her siblings are more like their father in terms macabre demeanor and monochromatic wardrobe, Mac is a ray of sunshine, similarly to how Persephone was in her youth. Full of life, bubbly personality, loves to meet new people and make friends, and is obsessed with flowers, having memorized thousands of species by now. But her favorites are the ones that are pretty and deadly.

She's a mini Persephone in terms of looks too, though her eyes are yellow like Hades'. And her face is shaped more like her dad's. Also, Mac is the only one who inherited her dad's pointy ears.

Sooo, here they are.

Headcanon ages for the kids are: Zag ‐ 16, Meli ‐ 13 and Mac ‐ 8.

I've tagged the posts with them as "#clash of the cousins", for those interested.

[puhpandas]

things I consider canon to my flashlight duo universe:

gregory and Evan move in together when they're adults. evan runs to live with the fazbears as soon as he turns 18 and they go from there. whether it's college or just an apartment

gregory is what introduces Evan to drawing and he loves it. they both keep up with the hobby when they're older as well. gregory likes drawing comics and maybe becomes a graphic novelist and I think Evan would like painting

Evan eventually meets vanessa when hes about 14 and she becomes the older sibling he always wanted. he always felt intimidated by her idea because shes Gregory's actual biological sibling and Evan holds that to a high honor because he wants to be. but they get along and vanessa being there for Evan makes him feel like part of the family even more

Roxy and evan are close. roxy kinda takes Evan under her wing because although its not the same experience because roxy had a support system her whole life, she wants to help him through what she also went through. she helps him learn an outlet to control his emotions more to be more manageable and is a calm shoulder to lean on for evan.

in the event that the bite happens (it doesnt usually), I think after Evan heals and recovers he and bonnie would bond over their scars and bonnie would make him feel better about them

evan meets cassidy later on when hes mellowed out some. I dont think she would have liked him a lot before but when hes healed more and gotten better with his sensitivity they get along pretty good. I think cassidy wouldnt have many friends and probably be considered a troublemaker because of her anger issues and her lashing out and Evan uses what hes learned with his emotions to help her. I'll say they're both teens here

freddy and the other adults wanted nothing more than to march over to the Aftons and declare that they're taking Evan forever but they couldnt. I think that they wanted to actually go through a process of adoption and taking custody but that would have affected Michael too and I'm not sure if they thought it was worth it. especially when Evan says hes alright with the fact that things arent perfect and that he already practically spends his whole life there anyway with how he spends the night.

I imagine william isnt the best cook and Michael probably has other means of getting food on top of not minding eating frozen dinners. but I imagine Evan probably didn't like a lot of foods (hes a kid and also. neurodivergent) and didnt have many things he enjoyed. so I think chica saw this and introduced evan to different foods and tried to help him figure out what he likes so he can eat better and enjoy it at the same time

Gregory and Evan are avid claw machine players

off screen when they're not having a moment with eachother every 5 seconds they play games like roblox and minecraft since they're in the modern day. I think Gregory gave Evan one of his older phones that still worked since he didnt have his own (theres nothing wrong with it, just an older model and maybe a little slow) and he plays on that.

gregory will draw during sleepovers and then give it to Evan to color in. gregory always keeps them and hangs them up or puts them somewhere for safe keeping because Evan doesnt want something to happen to them at his house

gregory hates pickles and Evan loves them

evan is an avid sweater wearer and the Fazbears buy him more when he only has like 1 or 2 and his other clothes are starting to get too small. he keeps sweaters at Gregory's house because he basically lives there already

theres a movie night every saturday while everyone is available at the Fazbears

michael starts to lay off a bit after a little while (think a couple years) just because Evan isnt even around as much for him to terrorize. Michael doesn't like being at home either and since they dont see eachother as much bullying Evan isnt in his minds eye as often. it just doesnt come to mind to do as much at that point

because of genes and chica helping him eat good, evan grows to be taller than Michael

evan experiments with gender later in life as a young adult and is lowkey surprised to learn that Gregory has been transgender this whole time

evan develops huge holiday spirit and for the rest of his days loves to decorate and do holiday-ey things for the season

[strawberijasper]

Altean redesigns

It's been actual months since I said I would share my Altean redesigns, and I'm finally getting around to doing it! So sorry to leave y'all hanging.

SO! Just like last time, my friend @adaphyl and I have been working on a Voltron rewrite, and it started with me yapping about the Alteans and how I wished the show had done more with them. So I redesigned/rewrote Alteans while Ada redesigned/rewrote the Galra.

There's more I'd like to do with their designs and maybe revamp, but these were the ideas I had back when we started this rewrite (nov 11, 2023).

So to start, I only did Allura, Coran, and Romelle, I'll eventually get around to drawing more but for now this is what we've got. There's a lot of lore I've written for Altea but it's just too much to get into here, so I'll condense it to the important bits.

I remembered in the show Allura mentioning Alteans were a "chameleon-like species", and it always annoyed me how that only translated to them having shapeshifting abilities. I never understood why they were just elves. So, I actually made them more chameleon like.

They have markings along their body, the color indicating sex like with actual lizards (female Alteans have darker markings while male Alteans have brighter colors), their skin tones have a green undertone, larger lizard-like eyes, small horns on their head, as well as three toes and fingers on each hand/foot. (There are also albino Alteans who have less markings, and regardless of sex their markings tend to be red or pink, but that's not really relevant to this post... perhaps a future post though...)

I also imagine that Alteans, because they're a lizard like people, get their energy from the sun. Because of this they worship a sun goddess. You'll see lots of gold or sun symbols throughout their clothing because of this.

However, you'll notice that Romelle looks a bit different. She's a special case, coming from the colony and not Altea proper. Because the Colony was about a few thousand years after Altea's destruction, a lot of culture was lost. Lotor, having not grown up on Altea or learning the culture, had to piece together what he could. In our rewrite Honerva did come from an alternate reality, and in her reality Alteans are a bit different.

Alt!Alteans get their energy from the moon rather than the sun, they worship a moon goddess. Lotor when building the colony wasn't sure which reality did which, and so the colony worships both goddesses. Romelle also wears a mix of masculine and feminine clothing that was common on Altea, again more of Lotor just not being entirely sure + thousands of years of culture slowly being lost. Romelle also has sharper teeth because of thousands of years spent spread out throughout the galaxy, Alteans began to evolve to adapt to different enviroments. (Also you'll notice Romelle's bright markings, I hc Romelle to be a trans woman so :) )

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter four.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Day 97 - Better known as the first day you reunite with Section Commander Hange Zoe, who has their own plans to recovering your memory.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Eventual Romance, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Nonbinary Hange Zoe, Angry!Levi, Other Additional Tags to be Added As the Story Progresses

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER FOUR.

There is something therapeutic about cleaning.

Clearing stubborn dust in every corner and pesky grime from the floorboards brings a sense of accomplishment — a sense of control, to your day.

It's not what you thought you'd be doing in the midst of preparing for your first official training session with the military, but Petra Ral claims this is how the Scouts indoctrinate all the new recruits.

A rite of passage, so to speak, to learn how important it is to mind your space.

(She's quick to mention you've already completed said rite in another life.)

Petral Ral, better known to you as the girl from Erwin's file, is a devastatingly perky and short redhead with stars in her eyes. Despite the harrowing business of being a Scout, she speaks like she's on the most incredible adventure of her life.

A novel-quality crusade.

She greets you with such excitement upon your arrival with Erwin Smith that you can't help but feel relief that this is your intermittent handler. You don’t remember Petra, not in the way she hopes you will, but she parades you around the rendezvous castle like it's your first day.

Because, according to her, she's just repeating history: she was the one to do this just a few short years ago.

Before you get your hands on military gear and weapons, Petra first offers you a broom and dust pan. "Scrubbing down the common room mess space is first priority," she supplies, holding up her own broom. "You might want to take a cloth to keep your hair out of your face. When you're done with the mess space, you can start on your room. You hold a broom like this, and—"

"Petra," you start, and she waits patiently for your reply. "I'm not braindead, just blank. I remember how to clean."

"You do?"

"Yes," you reassure with a breathy laugh, holding the broom handle with a half-assed sweep of your arm. "Ta-da."

She squeaks in embarrassment, bringing her gloved hand to her mouth.

"Gosh, I'm sorry! This really is just like old times! I'm getting deja vu just looking at you."

"In a good or bad way?"

"Oh, good. Definitely good. You were so fun back then," Petra reassures with a bright grin. "But go, go, go — I'll see you for lunch!"

So you're here some odd hours later, scrubbing down the common room mess space and clearing your swirling mind.

You don't know where Petra's gone, but she can't possibly be far.

This is nice.

Quiet. Manageable.

Tirelessly flinging cobwebs from the ceiling corners, you wipe a hand over your shining forehead and draw a short sigh. This place is looking good. Beyond an improvement to what you first faced upon entering this seemingly abandoned castle.

At least you remember how to make a room spotless—

“Ahh!”

A shrill shriek from behind breaks your peace.

It’s so loud that the broom handle fumbles from your hands and clangs to the floor.

“There she is!”

Startled, you turn to address the danger head-on.

A person with wild brown hair and a military uniform stands in the door of the hallway, fingers folded tightly together at the center of their chest. The Scout crest at their breast distorts by how hard they press their folded palms into their body, like they’re using every ounce of willpower not to—

Too late.

Their arms swing wide as they near. Before you can open your mouth, your body’s being squeezed into a tight hug. 

“And look — all limbs intact! Wow, talk about a lucky break, huh? I thought for sure we’d be seeing a missing appendage or two.”

For good measure, they back up just enough to pick up your hand from the wrist. Tugging the eye glasses from their forehead, they squint and lean in to observe the remaining bandages.

You should say something.

What do you say?

“Uh — hi?”

Nailed it.

Belatedly, the preoccupied person flashes a look back to your face, considering in a haze.

Then the dots connect.

“Oh, right! Duh. Maybe no missing limbs but you’re missing memories. Allow me to re-introduce myself: Hange, Section Commander, at your service.” They smile wide. “Captain Levi told me where you were staying, so I thought maybe I’d make a visit.”

Wait.

Captain Levi knows where you’re staying?

(Why does it always have to circle back to him?)

“And when you weren’t there, I asked around — Petra knew!”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, embarrassed that you can’t match their elated energy. Hange doesn’t hide their excitement, so you cannot hide your hesitance.

Maybe the surprise touch has something to do with it, but this encounter already feels different. As if Hange is a long-awaited crisp breeze on the first day of Spring. You find yourself wanting to hug them again, to see if the spark lingers.

“Yeah. Commander Erwin gave me over to Petra for the week. I haven’t seen the Captain.”

“Oh, you haven’t? Color me a little shocked.” Hange drops their arms from you to wipe some strands of hair from their face. “Well? Any new discoveries since you first woke up?”

“A few,” you admit, bending to pick up the broom lying on the ground. “Commander Erwin got me to remember a little bit about where I came from and how, uh… being in the Scouts was kind of my whole life.”

“Part of the job description,” Hange bemuses before mimicking Erwin’s deep voice for the salute. “Dedicate Your Heart — every artery and then some.”

The endearing attempt at imitating the commander makes you snort despite yourself, and you sweep one final pile of dust into the pan.

“At least you feel familiar. The Commander and the Captain were like blank slates.”

It’s as though you’ve said the most magical thing to the Section Commander's ears. Their smile now bursts into a grin.

“Ch’yeah, I’d say you and I got into some wacky adventures in our day. Of course, only when you weren’t so busy in the corner with Levi.” The grin falters if only for a fraction. “Though I must say, I’m really surprised he wasn’t the first.”

Your brows knit. “The first what?”

“The first person that you would remember — at least, in feeling.”

“Everyone keeps implying that,” you tell them, crossing the room to settle the broom against the frame of a bookshelf. “Except the one time that I saw him, which was the first day, it sounded like he hated me.”

“Hated you?” Hange blurts. “Captain Levi hating you is about as true as me hating titans.”

You blink. “That… comparison escapes me, Section Commander.”

They lean in with a flippant shrug. “Hange, please. And I don’t hate titans at all. They’re incredible, fascinating, the thing I think about all the time.” Heat rises to your face. Hange doesn’t let up. “I think he’s just a bit grumpy since — well, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you.”

Eyes widening, you step closer to the other person.

“No — do. I wanna hear it. Seriously, living in the dark about this whole thing is probably a hindrance to remembering anything at all.”

“Hey, that’s what I said.” Hange laughs. “Still in sync, even when you’re not You!"

They pause for a moment, holding up their index finger.

"Actually let’s shelve the Levi debacle for a bit, because I thought maybe I could give you something and see what you think about it.”

“Give me something?” you repeat.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not like a gift or anything.” They reconsider, slipping a hand into the breast pocket of their uniform jacket. “Well, for you, it might be.”

It’s a small and flat brown box, only a few centimeters tall and not very wide.

Hange holds it out for you, nodding down to it — take it — and you meet them in the middle.

Nothing sparks while holding the box, and it takes every ounce of your curiosity not to give the thing a preliminary shake to hear what’s inside.

Your fingers pry the top lid off—

And it hits.

Like a lightning strike to the heart, you drop the lid to the floor, hand limp.

Silver — unassuming, dainty, but very obviously a necklace. There is barely anything special about the fragile jewelry, but emotion swells and threatens to choke you up and out. From the bottom of the chain dangles a small gemstone, swirling in stormy gray color. It looks well-loved, worn, but still manages to glimmer in the soft sunlight peering in from the open windows.

The pad of your index finger brushes along the smooth surface.

A drop of water splashes on it.

(Are you crying?)

Glancing up to look at Hange confirms that you’re not only crying, but sobbing.

Streams of tears drag along your cheeks as you let out a broken breath, confused yet relieved. The bottom half of the box drops, too, joining its sister on the floor as you clutch the necklace to your chest. 

You can’t explain any of this, but you know.

You know this is the one thing you subconsciously hoped to see, to feel, one day.

“You kept it.”

The blurted sentence is barely above a murmur.

Hange draws an inhale through their nose.

“When Captain Levi brought you in on horseback after your accident, I was the first to receive you,” they explain, softer this time. You watch them through a watery lens. “There was little to no time. Your uniform was torn to pieces. When the doctors were preparing you for the emergency surgery — you’d lost a lot of blood while traveling, and we weren’t sure how deep the cut wounds went — I took that necklace off of you in hopes that one day I could give it back.”

Your heart swells with an overwhelming gratitude you can’t quite place into words. Hange nears cautiously and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“That necklace went everywhere with you. In all our years of serving together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take it off.”

“It’s important to me,” you reason with certainty. Hange nods with empathy.

You don't even realize what you're saying, but it comes from the heart.

“...I’ve had it since I was a kid. This was the only thing I owned in the Underground. Before I joined the Scouts, I didn’t even own my own clothes. They were — they were stolen. Everything was stolen. I had nothing. Nothing except this.”

With trembling fingers, you try to unhook the clasp and fail. Twice. Hange tsk-tsk’s with their tongue and drop their hand to close around both of your hands.

“C’mon, you big softie. Let me?”

You sniff and nod, pushing hair away to give them an avenue to your neck. Hange easily situates the chain around your neck and secures the clasp. The cold chain presses to your body like a weighted blanket.

Your shoulders slack with its comfort the minute you can press the gem between your thumb and index finger.

“There. Feel better?”

“Loads,” you admit in a sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand. “Sorry for the outburst, Hange, it just—”

“Hey, happy to help. Look! You remembered something.”

They’re right.

Something so small brought such a visceral emotion to the forefront.

Rolling the gemstone between your fingers, you forcefully smile in return. What you say next rolls right off your tongue. “You know... you’ve always asked me where this came from, and now I’ve accidentally divulged that story. Talk about a dirty trick, Hange.”

“Whoa, I—” They start but reconsider. Hange doesn’t give it away immediately, but the section commander’s surprise is palpable the longer your words linger in the air. “Damn, you remember that?”

You do.

Clear as day, in fact, with the way they’re looking at you right now. Sitting right in this very room — you were both at the table situated in the corner, though it's now crowded by four chairs you've scrubbed vigorously clean. When you blink towards them, you can see the silhouette of Hange's frustrated hands flying high into the air. You're leaning back in the chair, tipping it with the heel of your boot pressed against the table's edge with a laugh.

“Oh, c'mon! Stop being such a tease and tell me about it already. It’s just a necklace!”

“That doesn't sound right,” you tease, grinning ear to ear as you absently roll the gemstone between your fingers. “If it's just a necklace, then how come you wanna know about it so bad, huh?”

Hange groans in the pale torch light, sliding down into their seat in dramatized agony. “Be-cause I just watched a five-meter titan almost snap the damn thing in half."

“So?”

“So! I saw how fast you sliced that thing up! You went totally berserk, like you had a personal vendetta.”

You chuckle low, burying your chin in the mouth of the emerald green cape around your shoulders.

“Five-meter titans should learn not to touch my stuff, then.”

“Hey, shitheads.”

Except that last part is something you hear with your own two ears, now, in the present.

A deep voice unlike yours or Hange’s.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn your chin to acknowledge it.

Levi Ackerman stands in the door frame dressed with a similar green cloak you wore in your vision. He’s wearing the same Scout uniform as Hange, but with a pressed white shirt and a flare of his own cravat nestled at the neck. His black hair falls over his eyes, shoulder pressed into the door frame, but he doesn’t look at you.

His eyes land directly on an all-too giddy Hange.

“So much for telling me that you arrived,” he mumbles.

Hange gives him a one-shoulder shrug. “Oh, you know I couldn’t help but find her for myself. The Commander caught me up to speed in a letter.”

“I would argue that that sort of information should remain out of letters, don’t you?” Levi asks as he nudges a boot into the room to join the conversation.

“Too late for that!” Hange sing-songs, pulling you into their side. “We were just catching up.”

Levi’s brow raises by a centimeter on his forehead. “...catching up.”

“Yep! It seems like I’m top of the team leaderboard for most memories. Amazing what happens when you try to work with victims of memory loss.”

It feels like a direct jab to Levi’s effort — or lack thereof — but he doesn’t react to it.

Not yet, anyway.

Because a whole world of awkwardness comes to a head when his eyes flicker to your face, then down, and stop.

Hange says nothing, but you feel it — their hand curled around your arm grips tighter.

Your chin drops to see what he’s staring at:

The necklace between your fingers.

When you stare back up, you’re certain Captain Levi has changed an entire shade of pale.

“—anyways!”

Hange’s voice cuts through the heavy silence as they squeeze you one last time into their side before letting go.

“I gotta go check in with the Commander. You two have fun catching up, alright?”

They pass with a bounce in their step, but not before stopping at the captain to all-too-whimsically point out the obvious.

“Look, Levi, she’s cleaning!”

He doesn’t have a snarky comeback this time.

Hell, he doesn’t even say goodbye to Hange when they exit, leaving the two of you to a room full of uncomfortable air.

If you so much as breathe in longer than a second, then it threatens to suffocate you.

Three whole months of nothing, and now?

There’s no excuse.

“You missed a spot,” he finally tells you, gesturing to the back left corner.

“Huh?” you mumble, turning to observe. “I haven't gotten to that part yet.”

“Sure.”

That’s all he had to say?

This was the big reunion everyone waited for?

Subconsciously your other hand raises to your necklace in order to tuck the jewelry into your gray button-up.

“You never visited me a second time.”

“I did,” he corrects, and your eyes narrow.

“I never saw you.”

“You were asleep.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies. “Wait, really?”

“Do you think I care enough to lie?” When you blink twice from how biting his tone is, he sighs to himself. “Yeah, I visited.”

Although you probably shouldn't believe him, you do. The sigh is as much of a surprise as his confession. Like he's resigned to chip a part of the wall he builds between you.

So you speak with honesty, too. “I’m sorry I missed you, then.”

His brow twitches.

“Why?”

“Because contrary to the nature of our first encounter, I’ve wanted to speak to you.”

At first he says nothing, opting to merely study your expression. You try to remain confident, chin up and expectant.

“Did you remember something?” he asks.

“Yeah." He doesn't react. "I have been remembering bits and pieces, but…”

You venture to a chair to your left at the newly-cleaned table, sitting with a short huff. It feels nice to get off of your feet.

“...that’s all they are. Bits and pieces to bigger outlines, bigger pictures, that I don’t have."

"Sorry to hear that," he tells you, evidently not sorry at all.

Your brows furrow as you lean forward, taking the time to really look at the shorter man this time. "Except something weird happens every time I talk to someone. Specifically Commander Erwin."

"Which is?"

"The commander is pretty hellbent on mentioning your name every time we have a conversation."

Levi’s stare hardens. “Right.”

"In fact, Hange just now mentioned you.” You pause. “Aren't you curious about what they say?"

"No."

The word leaves his mouth too fast. You realize instantly that it's a lie. You press on.

"They tell me that you know me."

He scoffs. "I already told you that, dumbass."

"No you didn't."

"I did," he argues. "In Trost."

"Your twenty-question crusade three months ago is not the same as just telling me how I know you," you snap right back. "This isn't some acquaintanceship. They act like I know you incredibly well. Better than I'm supposed to know Hange or Petra or Erwin. And they all refuse to talk for you."

“As the shitheads should.”

This conversation is running in circles and getting nowhere.

Whereas Levi sticks to his conviction, your shoulders deflate.

"Captain..." You begin to stand, voice softening. “Captain, I want to—”

“Excuse me,” he abruptly states, turning on his heel to walk to the hallway.

By the time you stand at full height to follow after him, he’s already shut the door behind him.

.

.

.

.

.

“Hange.”

Their name is acidic on the tip of his tongue on purpose.

This isn’t a game.

Hange knows, too, because they take their fine fucking time walking down the hallway. Like — if the way they turn on a heel with a pursed smile is any indicator — that they already knew the conversation in that room with you would be short.

Levi can feel his blood boiling well over its limit. His hands are itchy, like they need to be doing something, so he digs half-crescent moons into his palms instead.

Hard, so it hurts.

Pain is one hell of a drug.

“Levi!” they call, feigning ignorance. “How was your talk with—”

“You kept it.”

It, because Levi knows he doesn’t need to elaborate on what exactly they’ve done. Over and over the scene replays in his head: the turn of your chin, your torso, with the glitter of silver in the afternoon sun just between your fingers at the collar of your shirt.

“I don’t know what you mean,” they sing-song, and Levi’s nostrils flare.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

“Oh — what, are you referring to the Lieutenant’s necklace?”

The first card is on the table in full show, and Levi’s all-too certain Hange believes they have a winning hand.

The white cravat at his neck threatens to choke him out when he swallows, maintaining a mere shred of his nonchalance.

“Of course I kept it, silly," they add.

“Why?”

“Even I knew how important it was to her.”

The sentence turns his tongue to lead.

Important.

“When did you take it?” he chooses to ask, pushing through the strain on his vocal chords.

“Before the doctors prepped for surgery, duh. Why? What’s so important about that stupid thing to you anyway?” Then they grin, and Levi knows he’s in deep shit. “Care to finally elab-or-ate?”

Each syllable is annunciated with such sickening clairvoyance that he instinctually turns the other way, opposite of the mess space.

Away.

Away, away, away—

“Oh, come on, Levi!” 

“Not now, Four Eyes.”

“But we just started getting to the bottom of this mystery!”

Too late. Hange’s lanky ass legs get the better of him. They outpace his stalking and eliminate the distance he’d been trying to clear.

For someone notorious for ending fights, he sure didn’t know why he started this one. Levi doesn’t want to be a part of this experiment, this thing, where they treat you like a fragile baby bird waiting for the moment you’re strong enough to fly on your own.

It’s insulting.

You were — are — more than that.

“There is no mystery,” Levi sours.

“Oh, please,” Hange groans. “I may not have perfect vision, but I’m not blind. You looked like you witnessed a titan trying to learn how to tap dance.”

“Fuck off.”

“Y’know, you’re going to have to tell her eventually before someone else does.”

So they did have a winning hand.

Levi abruptly stops walking to finally face the taller person. Hange’s tone remains in a sing-song, but their smile all but disappears. 

“Excuse me?”

“We all knew her, Levi. We know her,” Hange corrects. “Perhaps not as well as you, but things are going to start slipping out.”

“Not if you keep your damn mouth shut.”

“Why?” they challenge, crossing their arms over their chest. “I’d actually quite like my friend to fully remember me someday.”

“They won’t be honest memories, then,” Levi argues. “Just whatever shit you put in her head so you feel better about it.”

“What a pessimistic way of looking at it.”

“It’s our reality.”

Hange sighs in that way that Levi hates: saddened, like they know something he doesn’t.

He’s heard it countless times before the scientist made a devastating, truth-shattering discovery.

“Then I suppose you don’t want to hear that it helped.”

Levi turns into stone.

Hange pretends to be interested in the cuticles of their nails, tone light and airy. “Oh, didn't you ask? Or are you still pretending she’s a tree with legs in HQ’s yard?”

“You’re lying.”

“Now that’s just hurtful.” The smile returns. “Look, Levi: the minute she took a look at that necklace in the box, it was like she came back to us. Even if just for a moment, I swear, it was her. I’m no cranial injury genius, but I like to think that the more she interacts with things that are important to her, the more memories it may trigger.”

The sharp pain in his palm returns.

Had he been holding that fist this entire time?

Things that are important to her.

Even without its origins spelled out, the necklace meant something to you. You wore it under your uniform just as you always had before the accident. Close to the chest, its meaning hidden from most of the world.

Maybe Pyxis has the right idea to drink on the job, because Levi’s one more bad day from breaking open a cork just to taste something a little more bitter than what fate’s allowed.

(What memories came back to you?)

He could ask.

He could play stupid just to see if Hange’s telling the truth.

He’d rather get swallowed whole, but it’s better than turning around and asking you.

“What did she remember?”

Hange, thrilled that he’s taken the bait, leans in to keep the conversation private. 

“She told me that the silver necklace came with her from the Underground.” Oh. “She’s had it since she was a kid.” Oh, shit. “Said it was the only thing she’s ever owned.” Shitting shit. “Sounds like the exact same story she told me when Erwin made her a Scout — the whole fend-for-yourself mentality, the crappy childhood, blah-blah-blah. We don’t need to dive back into all of that.”

No, he doesn’t.

What he needs is to take a breath, but his lungs stopped working twenty words ago.

Hange is waiting for the gotcha right on the tip of their tongue, a years’ long question in the making, but he refuses.

Can’t — because those are your secrets to tell, not his.

“Is that it?” He asks, feigning neutrality.

“You sort of interrupted the epiphany,” Hange grins, “but yeah. That’s all. Nothing’s stopping you from turning around and hearing it for yourself, you know. I’m sure it’ll make you feel a hell of a lot less crummy if you do.”

Yeah, it probably would.

Because your memory’s coming back, with or without him.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent me anons about this story! I'm having so much fun writing it. I appreciate your likes and notes xo.

[appleofthemoon]

⸻   *  ❪  ❀  ...  CAT & MOUSE

premise. and just when jungwon thought it would be a boring night, another round of chase begins.

pairing. non-idol! yang jungwon x s/o! reader.

pantone. yandere.

word count. six hundred thirty four.

warning. overprotective yandere, possible allusion to drugging, the victim is addressed as a mouse, murder. 

note for the reader. the depiction of the muse does not reflect upon their behavior in the real world. the muse’s actions are also not condoned by me, this is all purely a work of fiction.

extra note. i haven’t written dark fics in over a month now so please excuse how rubbish this is. i’m using @/dear-yandere’s prompts as my warm ups.

CURIOSITY WON'T KILL THE CAT.

jungwon knows because he's still alive, sitting by your side. and he's entertaining himself by watching the mouse drag herself across the floor, painting a messy, crimson trail as she does so. when she reaches the doorway, she manages to pull herself onto her knees and press one hand upon her wounded abdomen.

silly little thing, she believes she's going to escape. heaving herself upright proves to be a mistake after the pain surges through every nerve in her aching body. and in such agony, she couldn't bother suppressing her scream.

his lips twist into a frown. really, did she have to make so much noise? cleaning the dirty floor is already going to be a pain and a half, now—

you begin to stir, eyes almost fluttering open. that is, until jungwon's humming bleeds into your dream. combine his dulcet lullaby with his gentle caresses upon your skin, and you decide there's nothing wrong with staying under for a little longer. eventually, his fingers dance across your wrist until he feels your slow rhythm once more.

“that's it, baby.” he leans over and kisses your forehead. “sleep tight, i'll deal with our little annoyance.”

satisfied, the dyed noir cat carefully pushes his chair back and removes his dress shirt. as he had come to learn a few months ago, red doesn't let go of white so easily. oh well, at least he knows now. it'd be a shame if he had to destroy another article of clothing—especially when this was one you loved to ‘borrow’ from him.

he picks up his knife and leaves your bedroom, remembering to shut the door as he does so. don’t worry, he’ll clean up the mess later. now that he's sure you won't be disturbed, he's free to run around and look for the mouse.

by a stroke of luck, he finds her wobbling down another hallway. jungwon has to give it to her; she's lasted longer than the others. in fact, he's so impressed, he thinks about letting her go.

“where are you going? you can't run or hide~” he taunts her, the words chillingly echoing through the air.

she looks over her shoulder and sees him getting closer. fear is consuming her, yet she still pushes herself to make it down the hall. it doesn't matter if the pain increases tenfold, she picks up her pace.

by the time the mouse reaches the stairs, there's not much energy left in her. realizing this, she resigns herself to leaning against the wall, chest almost caving in on itself as she slurs, “i'm sorry.. please don't kill me..”

jungwon crouches down and innocently tilts his head to the side. “why not?”

“please.. please.. i won't tell anyone..”

“i see..”

“i.. i swear.. i'll do anything..”

“any~thing?”

“yesss..”

he seems to give it some thought. she really is fun to play with. it wouldn't be far off to say she's the best toy he's had in a while. perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to keep her a little longer..

he draws out a sigh. “but you came here to hurt my baby, don't think i forgot that.”

indeed, for some reason, her stupid mind conceived the idea that by doing so, the pain your rejection inflicted upon her will ebb.

so jungwon decides to test the theory for her. of course, he makes a few modifications before that.

“wh.. why-” is all she manages to choke out before her body falls slack, just like her heart's rhythm. without her hands weakly fighting to pull his knife away, he gives it a little extra twist.

the cat, now satisfied with the knowledge that his theory is correct, merely smiles and lifts his bloody hand to pat her head.

“because experimenting is fun.”

[ethoglrl]

Thinking about a hc/ls powers au where triplets!Grian, Pearl and Jimmy are villains and heroes!Scar, Mumbo and Ren are trying to stop them (while not realizing how corrupt the organization they work for is) (im calling this AU Eyes Ears and Mouths or EEM for short)

Like okok consider, consider:

Civilian Grian and Scar crushing on each other, maybe borderline dating (like they go out for things that are totally dates but if anyone brings it up "nooo we're just friends guyssss how many times do I have to say it!") and then bam, hero and villain fight happens that night, next day they see each other and Scar's limping, brushing it off as "oh I fell" when it was villain!Grian (aka Watcher) who had scratched his leg deep, or Grian having to cancel cause he "feels sick" when really hero!Scar (HotGuy.. duh) had hit him with an arrow and he desperately needed time to heal

Consider as well :

Pearl, Grian and Jimmy as young kids, running around the streets, orphaned, eventually learning about their powers and struggling to control them without their parents teaching them how

Consider:

Jimmy discovering his powers when he went to steal some clothes for winter, having had to try to run from a mall cop (malls were usually easier as they were more crowded. Easier to escape if the doors were close by) but getting tackled to the ground, him immediately panicking and then going full Listener

Jimmy almost killing the cop as he went full Listener (wings and feathers sprouting from the sides of his face by his ears and all down his back and legs, fingers and toes becoming sharp talons, ears floating all around him kind of like a vertical halo if that makes sense) and couldn't stop himself from using his powers (the listeners themselves going into the man's mind, invading his thoughts, taking them and his memories away, paralyzing him while Jimmy scratches him deep, not realizing how strong he is, trying to escape the man's grasp)

Pearl and Grian watching this, almost scared of their youngest brother, not knowing if he'll snap at any moment

Less angsty but consider :

Civilian!Scar and Mumbo being friends, not knowing the other is the hero they work with as the organization has a 100% identity hidden rule and if your identity is revealed to anyone you're kicked off the team

Okay now time to explain the powers so it's less confusing LOL

Villains -

Grian : Watcher : when in watcher mode, like Listener and Speaker, feathers and wings sprout out by his ears and on his back to his legs, his being a reddish-orange, and his toes and fingers turn into sharp talons, while purple eyes surround his face, helping him to see more of what's going on around him. Wears a dark purple cloak with some holes for his wings, and a simple metal band with the watcher emblem on it for a mask : is able to send the watchers (aka some little eye things, think like how most people draw eyes around watcher!grian, little 2D purple things) to attack his victim(s), shooting little balls of... well, nobody knows what, at the target(s)

Pearl : Speaker : when in speaker mode, like Listener and Watcher, feathers and wings sprout out by her ears and on her back to her legs, hers being a more bluey-white, fingers and toes turning into sharp talons, while small mouths float around her head, telling her dark secrets of those she wishes. Wears a dark blue cloak and a similar metal band to grian as a mask, but with a different symbol (I'll make the symbols for her and Jimmy eventually) : is able to send the speakers (aka little mouths) to attack her target(s), where they then scream their dark secrets, things that make them feel guilty or hurt or generally bad, at them, in words only they can hear, giving the victim(s) such powerful headaches (not to mention negative feelings) that they crumble to the ground

Jimmy : Listener : when in listener mode, like Speaker and Watcher, feathers and wings sprout out by his ears and on his back to his legs, his being bright yellow, fingers and toes turning into sharp talons, while small ears float around his head, helping him hear everything going on around him. Wears a dark yellow cloak, with a metal band like the other two for a mask but with his own symbol : is able to send the listeners (aka little ears) to infiltrate his target(s), going into their head and thoughts, temporarily sucking out almost every thought and memory, making is nearly impossible for the victim(s) to move as they struggle against the listeners in their mind

Bdubs : Moss ("I don't want a good name, my name's just gonna be my power. What about it?") : wears a blanket (he swearssss it's a costume but idk mannn) that's literally just covered in moss, mushrooms, I think a tree is growing in there, nobody knows but it makes him more powerful, as well as uses some moss to make a mask kinda like the one ethos mc skin has yk : pretty much can control plants and nature, especially good at moss and moss covered objects, even able to conjure up some moss on himself as a protective measure if needed

Etho : Winter (listen he's Canadian let's cut him some slac-) : ... literally just what ethos MC skin looks like, his hair is naturally a blonde but turns white when using his powers : can make it snow and hail, can form snow and ice in his hands as well as is always freezing to the touch, and can literally freeze victims with a touch if wanted

Martyn : Shadow : ... last life shadow alliance Martyn, need I say more? : can jump into and out of shadows (as if they're portals), as well as can use them to completely hide himself (so unless you know he's there, you can't see him) and can also use the shadows to attack you if you're in them or close enough to them

Scott : Heartbreaker : simple teal jumpsuit or whatever heroes always wear with some gold accessories and white and gold accents on the jumpsuit itself, with a very fancily embroidered mask (Hes gay he needs everything to be extra /stereotyping) : is able to drive wedges between teammates or.. well, anyone really. Can be as simple as a distrusting glance between each partner after he uses the power, or as much as them no longer able to work together, or screaming at each other rather than fighting the villains

Heroes -

Scar : HotGuy : ... well we all know typical hotguy attire must I really say : can fly (without wings unlike the triplets) and always hits with his bow without fail, except in extremely specific circumstances

Mumbo : RedStone (listen, he was told to come up with a name himself, he never said he was creative) : kind of looks like that tuxedo guy from sailor moon except he has a mustache that's very prominent : telekinesis, an extremely strong version of it in fact. Is able to rip chunks out of walls and rip concrete up from the street to make a shield easily, as well as throw people around (although he does MUCH better with inanimate objects than with people or living things like Bdubs' moss and trees)

Ren : WereDog, eventually becomes WereKing : originally just simple red t-shirt and overalls with some pockets for what he needs, and when he rebrands to WereKing, wears much more kingly fashion, a red cape with puffy white.. stuff (idk what it is I don't sew) on the lining, a "crown" as his mask with a frilly shirt on under it (probably just jeans for his pants idk I just like his design in my mind so that's why he gets a paragraph of it) : can turn into any kind of canine (a wolf, a dog, a coyote, whatever) (yes I spent more time imagining his costume than his power shhhhh)

More characters and their info to squeeze in -

X : leader of the heroes, though not of the organization : mostly plans out who patrols where (sometimes the upper management gives *suggestions* on where certain heroes should go), what heroes to use in a given situation, disciplining heroes who mess up (no matter how bad), usually is the one who fires and *sometimes* hires heroes (also does other more boring stuff I ain't explaining it all)

Doc : a more minor hero called Monster : when using his power turns giant, green and fuzzy (like a weird hulk) (doesn't wear a mask as he looks almost 100% different when using his powers) : also like the hulk is extremely strong, and can also explode when wanted (this does leave pretty severe burn marks on him, however he will survive)

Those are the only ones I really have done so far LMAO I need time to think. I will update when I have ideas !!!

Tempted to make this a fic, if you'd read it lmk and I can make one on ao3 or just a shorter one on here, post it as little one shots of certain scenes if you can't read a whole fic

[lemonisntreal]

Do you have a Tone Deaf version of Clay Calloway?

(Perfectly fine if you don't. I was just curious, plus I love all your redesigns) 🦁🎸

SORRY THIS TOOK FUCKING FOREVER LMAO [been sitting in my inbox since FEBRUARY THIRTEENTH, HOLY SHIT :D]. YEAH, here he is :pppp a solid draft for you

Lowkey [highkey] gave up on the clothing wrinkles on the arms, but I still like how it turned out I think. I don't have much on him in terms of rewrite, but I do have some, so I'll dump it all here under the cut.

I swear I love asks, please feel free to say/ask whatever, I'm just horrible at answering in a reasonable time-frame because I always want to make it this beautiful masterpiece and end up turning all of them into full-on posts- or, at least I want to ~_~

Headcanonssss-

Ash gave him that button off her jacket [probably needs to be resized I'm realizing lol] [also I totally adopted this headcanon from someone elses post- might've been yours. Whoever came up with it I love it <3]

Born during the reformation that happened after the war- basically, nobody was really fighting anymore during this time, but some big people in power were still being stupid [aka: not letting their prisoners go]

So that would be somewhere around 1947? Which would put his age at 61 in my universe [which is in 2008- the times are pretty much random, nothing really lines up irl. Ignore how they use tech and other things that shouldn't have been invented yet lol]

He grew up when the Skunk Dolls were new and popular and stuff. And he loved them- so much that the band actually kinda inspired his music career

[Skunk Dolls also made loads of protest songs btw. War stuff]

Takes a ridiculous amount of care with his mane, and if he lets you touch it, that's a true sign of trust

So the Piglets always like to play with it, and Ash has given him braids a few times

He's had that scruffy red jacket since his early days

I should draw patches on it-

Ash probably'll give him a quill or two to put in it too with all the patches and repair stitches

He wears a lot of plaid, I just didn't wanna draw it <3

Rough and torn up clothes too

Everything he owns has some sort of smudge or tear in it from motorbiking and/or just being himself <3

His ears are pierced in almost every way imaginable, and when Ash found out, she went CRAZY

Cue her getting him to try on a bunch of stuff

He likes wrought iron jewelry and has never been a fan of anything with gemstones in it

Buster is terrified of him, but Clay is just kinda a blunt person and it doesn't mix well with Buster sometimes. They get along eventually tho. There was also some really bad timing with the circumstances of how they even met in the first place too lol-

Johnny is also. Super terrified.

Buster and him are like "Ahhh.... that guy scares the living daylights out of me." "Ohh, thank god it's not just me-"

He has a strange out-of-pocket interest in astrology.

And in herbology and plants in general, but he picked that up from Ruby. Astrology was all his, and it is the one thing he will "nerd out" over

Also the kind of guy to make fun of you for nerding out too

Making fun of people is his love language

So is giving people food

He's not great with his words and can find it hard to express love by just telling someone. Back to the bluntness thing, you can often find him accidentally offending someone and he doesn't even realize it

The troupe very quickly learned this and it's more of an endearing trait of his to them [and to most people who know him]

REALLY good cook. Fantastic, in fact. Probably one of the best chefs out of any of the characters.

Learned the hard way that enlisting Buster's help in the kitchen is a bad idea. Also Ash isn't great either, but he actually tries to teach her some of his recipes. And she's quickly improving

Buster was just being an idiot and forgot you shouldn't microwave tinfoil

Clay travels a lot, but spends most of his time in Calatonia [he technically still lives at his and Ruby's house, but he's super scared of accidentally closing himself off again, so he only visits to check up on the flowers and maintain the property pretty much]

He's like Ash's second [and very cool] dad. Which- also intimidates Buster quite a bit :D

I feel like their dynamic could be a sitcom. Clay is Ash's awesome dad and Buster is Ash's lame [endearing] and oddly unhinged and anxious dad who feels like he has to be as cool as Clay [and always fails heehee]

Clay is more entertained by Buster's ridiculous criminal record than horrified and I don't know if that's worrying or just a classic Calloway W

He's a very nonchalant person

Ruby's death is the only time I can really think he had a legitimate emotional break that wasn't just him being snappy [which is also pretty rare]

Clay's also like an uncle to the Piglets

He's kinda just taken up the role of "super awesome miscellaneous family member" for everyone at this point

He's back performing again after Sing 2- just not frequently or putting out any new songs [on his own at least- he might do a collaboration or two with Ash]

[moon-lightanime]

Unconscious

Feat: Chuuya, Dazai,

Warning: angst, gender neutral reader, character death, argument, attempted suicide/suicide,

Pairing: Chuuya x gn reader

A/N it's maybe cringe idk it's my first time writing😭 also part 1 and on Ao3

Y/N was a broken person with trust issues and trauma, unable to love again until Y/N met Chuuya, but one day they get into a terrible argument, "Fine." Chuuya says through gritted teeth, clearly frustrated with your behavior. He pulls away from you and begins to dress himself again. Tears still falling out of my eyes but I remain silent. Finally dressing himself, he glances back at you with a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. "I hope this lesson teaches you to respect boundaries. No don't leave I'm sorry! "You should be." Chuuya turns away from you and starts to walk out of the room, unable to look at you anymore. "I'll give you some time to think about what you've done. No please don't leave I'm sorry Chuuya! *Pleading for him to stay* "I'm not staying if you're going to act like this." His voice is steady, but there's a hint of hurt in it. "You need to learn how to control yourself and respect others' boundaries. please I'll stop don't leave tears fall out of my eyes. *Y/N goes silent* Chuuya is silent as he walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty room. I lay on the floor as I cry myself to sleep. *Chuuya sighs heavily, his heart heavy with disappointment and frustration. He knew he should have been more understanding, but the way you kept pushing his limits made it impossible for him to stay calm. As he walks down the hallway, he can't help but feel a twinge of guilt. He knew he was being harsh with you, but he also couldn't ignore your disregard for his boundaries. Chuuya takes a few deep breaths to steady himself before entering his own room. He lies down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to make sense of what just happened. His mind wanders back to their moments earlier. Despite everything, he can't deny that there was a thrill in sharing those moments with you. But then again, you pushed him too far, and he had to draw the line. As the night goes on, Chuuya can't seem to fall asleep. His mind keeps replaying the events of the day, over and over again. He wonders if he made the right decision, or if he could have handled things differently. "Y/N's POV" *I wake up knowing Chuuya is still in his room, I begin to cry thinking about how things went down, I go into my bathroom and run a bath as soon as it feels up I leave a note infront of his door and I get in the bath. as I sink into the water not coming up for air hoping the water consumes, me I wait patiently as I hope I drown in the water* *Chuuya hears the sounds of the bath filling up, but he's too caught up in his thoughts to pay much attention. He eventually drifts off to sleep, only to be woken up by the sound of water. As he opens his eyes, he sees the note on the floor, left in front of his door. His heart sinks as he reads it, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. Rushing into the bathroom, he finds you lying in the bathtub, motionless. Chuuya's eyes widen in horror as he sees you unresponsive in the bathwater. Fuck! He quickly grabs you, pulling you out of the tub and laying you on the floor.He shakes your shoulders gently, noticing that there's still water dripping from your hair and clothes he notices that Y/N doesn't wake up Y/N's body still doesn't move not even a inch."What the...?" Chuuya's eyes widen even more as he realizes something is wrong. He gently places his hand on your cheek, feeling for a pulse. When he doesn't find one, panic sets in. He quickly grabs his phone, dialing 911 as he starts to perform CPR on you, remembering what he had learned in case of emergencies. His heart races as he pumps your chest harder and faster, desperately trying to revive you.