#Thanks so much again!!!

[lemon-grey]

Title: Cold Rain (also posted on AO3)

Summary: Zelkov reminisces about his lost brother; a drabble commission for @kindcalico

CW: none

Words: 725

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It was just after lunchtime when the sound of rain falling in heavy sheets around the castle jolted Zelkov out of his regular afternoon drowsiness. Rain was very uncommon in Elusia; typically, temperatures remained so low that any precipitation came in the form of snow or ice, and true rain only occurred a few times in a year. This was one of those rare days, and as he wandered down the halls toward one of the castle’s balconies, he couldn’t help but let it take him back to a memory from long ago.

Rain had been falling that day, too. It sloshed against the window at the front of the small log house where he had lived, and it dripped through cracks in the roof as the wind battered against the front door. Zelkov and his brother Mashka—both eight years old at the time—had spent the morning huddled in front of the fireplace, making sure the wind didn’t knock any embers out into the house and trying to keep warm. Every so often, a gust howled noisily past the thin walls, not unlike the sound of wolves on the distant horizon, causing Mashka to scoot closer to Zelkov each time.

“It’s only the wind,” Zelkov said, the third time this happened. “We’re safe if we stay inside.”

“I wish Mama didn’t have to go.” Mashka idly played with the key that hung around his neck—the one to the back door of their home. Their mother had only recently given each of them a key to each of the two doors of the little house, and both of the boys had been wearing them proudly ever since, certain that they were quite grown up with such a responsibility.

Zelkov, however, liked to think he was even more grown up than his brother. He sat up straight, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to sound mature as he spoke. “Mama has an important job as a healer, and she has to take care of people even if it’s storming,” he said, reciting what their mother had told them earlier that morning.

His brother frowned at him. “You’re probably scared too, Zelly,” he said. “Stop pretending.”

“I’m not scared of wind and rain.” Zelkov shrugged; he really wasn’t afraid of the weather, even if he didn’t have much experience with storms. It was a little unnerving being left alone during one, but he knew their mother would be back as soon as she could, and he didn’t mind taking care of Mashka in the meantime.

Another loud gust rattled the front door and Mashka jumped, startled, before pulling the hood of his shirt up over his head.

Zelkov hated to see his brother so frightened. The two were inseparable, the best of friends, and always there to look out for each other. When the other children in the small village teased Zelkov for his odd behavior, Mashka was there to defend him; when Mashka got hurt falling out of a tree, Zelkov was there to take him home and treat his injuries. Although Zelkov was older by seven minutes (a fact that he often used when he wanted to get his way about something), the two had never been apart from each other since birth, and they were both keenly aware of each other’s feelings and needs, too.

So, even though Zelkov didn’t mind the storm, he put an arm around Mashka and said, “I guess it’s a little scary.”

Mashka nodded. “I told you.”

“When it’s over, maybe we can go out and look for mushrooms.”

“You think Mama will make mushroom soup if we do?”

“I hope so.”

The two boys had spent the rest of the stormy morning chatting about their plans for an upcoming mushroom adventure, and so their mother had found them a couple of hours later, happy and safe as if nothing had bothered them at all.

The memory was an old one, long since buried under ashes and pushed into the part of Zelkov’s mind that he rarely explored anymore, but he smiled to himself as he remembered it anyhow. Leaning against the cold stone wall of the castle, gazing out the window to the rain beyond, he thought of Mashka, and he wondered if he might find some mushrooms for soup after the storm passed.

[valeriefauxnom]

i just caught up to your post canon dragalia fic in one day and hollyy shit dude. i am on the edge of my seat!!!! its so enjoying and well versed and i cannot wait for the next chapter

Ahhh! I always am ecstatic to hear reviews or even just random thoughts of any kind regarding my work, but hearing people like my work on Scaling enough to binge it is even crazier! I will forever be more and more amazed people have done that as the length increases, like don't they say an average novel is like about 50k words?? That would mean you've just binged 3 novels of my crazy assortment of thoughts on a possible post game scenario for a dead game in 1 day, which is nuts!

With Scaling in particular having such long chapters I worry sometimes that I'm getting a bit too lost in all my thoughts for it and getting too wordy, so it's always nice to see people are still enjoying it after it has grown increasingly complex, even if we are starting to get closer to a more definitive break in the case, were it a proper mystery novel.

You're the first person to send anything on Tumblr about it (or anything in general really), too, so this message is precious in another way! I'm always glad to field questions (though of course would shy away from spoiling my own works) or explain more about why x decision was made because boy I think I should just make 'overthinking' my hallmark at this point!

As a treat for how much this makes my week, here's a little snippet of a dragalia fic in progress that will probably be a long time in the making yet if it ever does see the light of day on AO3 properly, (so I don't get distracted by yet another thing instead of working on Scaling and/or finishing Control). It's a tentative collection solely based around the concept of the siblings finding out just how weird the Halidom is, especially Leonidas and Chelle since he was in charge of it for all that time and she's always poking about for info.

---

But when he looked back up to the expenses log, all the expenses listed were sky-high as well. The food expense, dragon expenses, aid expense, equipment expense, everything was all exceedingly high for such a small nation (as they should be, given what he knew about Euden’s governance). But to still draw a profit if expenses weren’t being understated meant an even more ridiculous income. 

Sure enough, the few categories under income were even more egregious. Tax revenue was relatively moderate, but other revenue sources like ‘precious gems/mining products’, ‘gifts’ and ‘tourism income’ were far, far beyond what was rational in a kingdom engaged in war for its entire history. 

Just as he was about to start demanding explanations for the inflated income, he spotted yet another egregious, incomprehensible bit to the income column. “Pipple?” He said, almost hostile, “What exactly is a pipple, and why is it on the income statement, let alone for such riches it is supposedly bringing in? No, no, I think I understand now.�� Not waiting for an answer, Leonidas began to speculate. He’d never heard of anything sounding like ‘pipple’ before, and Leonidas boasted quite the vocabulary as crown prince. He was expected to have a suitably verbose and eloquent bank of words with which to communicate with foreign heads of state and domestic nobility alike. That meant this was likely something of a new invention in language.

A new invention, and something that brings in exorbitant funds…something very well hidden, if Chelle did not report on its trade or presence in a service business when we made joint moves on the Halidom, and it’s that sizable of an industry in New Alberia…Ah. 

Quite devious of you, brother. I never expected for you to become so involved with such a shady industry, but it explains a great deal of their surprising shadow wealth.

There was only one thing this ‘Pipple’ could be: some sort of newfangled illicit drug his brother was putting to market as a supplier, raking in rupies hand over fist as people learned the effects of whatever potent cocktail this Pipple was composed of.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and a new nation in war against a vastly more powerful, established land was desperate indeed.

---

So yeah, thank you again for your message! Not to toot my own horn too much, but if you're eager for maybe a bit more dragalia fic from me as you wait, I've got another fic up on AO3, though it's not connected with Scaling or even canon in general as a bad-end au what if! It's also likely not quite as polished, being written in like 2 days, but hey I'm just too happy about the two artworks my best friend made for it and now am legally obligated to try and show the art off at any given moment!

[vi-enti]

i have been stuck in a cycle of rereading ur postgame fic over and over and over ever since it's release it's SO good........ i understand if u r writing up more to it and so don't want to disclose but i am dying to know more abt ur takes on both postgame as a whole and what's going on with each of the survivors..... if u wouldn't mind sharing, ofc :3

!!!! thank you so much, i'm so happy you enjoyed it. i do want to keep some stuff secret (partially bc i'm still fleshing out ideas myself) but i can share some stuff about the survivors!

hajime: so i'm not the biggest fan of hajime and izuru being separate personalities, but i do like them being perceived as such. hajime and izuru are one and the same, but the person he was as izuru and the person he was even before then are perceived as different to the others, they'll keep make excuses for him and claiming that wasn't him, but he has to learn to accept that he was the person who did those things, that there isn't a separate entity in his brain to blame. a lot of his journey is going to be about discovering the type of person he wants to be in his future and whether he even can be that person, or if his brain is too altered to understand the imperfections of happiness.

i don't want to say much about akane, fuyuhiko, or kazuichi yet. what i will say is that their journey of healing begins with the physical, and the mental gets pushed to the side for way too long. i can see Queen Sonia, Who Is Above All, and izuru kamukura taking care of themselves during the Tragedy, which is why they're some of the only ones to come out unscathed (not including nutrition deficiencies from being in the NWP pods). the other survivors aren't that lucky, so they have to overcome being weak before they can fully focus on the sins of their past and the futures they want. akane is the most malnourished, kazuichi has suffered so much damage to his limbs creating the monokumas and death traps in unsafe work environments, and fuyuhiko gave up his views of the world for those of a tyrant (literally lol bc. his eye. yknow?). how do they even begin to cope with the people they've chosen to become? how do they begin to cope with all they've lost physically and in their lives?

sonia: the next section i'm writing is about sonia actually! so i'll just share a snippet of that :)

When she had first woken up, Makoto and Kyoko had been there to help her, slowly lifting her upper body so she could sit up. She trusted them, of course she did, but who she really wanted to see was Hajime. Hajime, who had shone so brightly at the end of it all, who had overcome a despairing truth in order to help them all, who had lit a path to the future for his friends. 

In that moment, she had seen the sort of person she had always wanted to be. Being a princess, born to be a queen, there was a lot of expectation for her to be the perfect leader. No matter who she asked, however, nobody could ever define what that really meant. Was perfection being an absolute authority? Being completely open to every request from her people? Maybe it was letting others do all the work and just smiling and waving, presenting a facade of peace when there was none. Or, worst of all, maybe it was being cruel, crushing all that stood in her path and ruling with an iron fist.

No. She had tried that last path, and now had no kingdom at all to rule. The princess, born to be a queen of perfectly nothing. Still, Sonia was a ruler at heart, a leader and guide to those around her. Before the others woke up, she knew she would need to define for herself again what the perfect leader was. All of these thoughts had run through her mind in the five seconds it took for Makoto and Kyoko to lift her to a sitting position, the detective hiding a smile as her partner babbled on about how great it was to see her awake, how much work they had to do, how happy he was to meet her in person. Sonia barely heard his words at the time, her eyes darting around the room of glowing pods, looking for that perfect leader to learn from. She had wanted to see Hajime.

[wishfulsketching]

I have finally finished season 2 of Arcane and can now enjoy your art without fear!!! They should be happy together 🥺

I take it "they" means zaundads because that is what I've been drawing the most BUT, lets be honest, applies to like 98% of the characters in the show.

They should've been a big happy familyyyy

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT text) ArtTrade with the very sweet @die-auster ! thank you for sparking back my obsession with this blue guy here!

Please check out their amazing works here! 1 . 2 . 3.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] drawn for fun, he doesn't know how to hold that thing wwwwww

[stealingpotatoes]

Is it possible to ask for another kanan and cal doodle? obsessed with how u draw their dynamic in the fix it au. crying over both of them having a friend who Gets it

it so is bc i will take ANY chance to draw these two

(commission info // tip jar!)

[rusticfurnace]

GHOSTSOAP // "you sweet fucker" MINICOMIC!!!

[buckynats]

When your girlfriend is a veteran scout with a (now-controlled) lyrium touch, you probably don't sleep in much.

comic of an early post-game thought I had, brought to stunning life by @yelenhol. They/them Rook.

[deepspacenova]

UNDER PRESSURE

1700 words | banter. tension. jealousy. possessive Sylus.

Prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react.

Note: Written for this round robin/challenge by the lovely @jinwoosbabyboo -- it's open for anyone, by the way, so consider yourself tagged if you're interested! (:

The smell of antiseptic mingled with the earthy scent of Vagrant's Land while the pop-up clinic buzzed with organized chaos. Patients with various illnesses and injuries stood around waiting for the moment they'd be called back and have their ailments treated or cured.

The welcome tent’s fabric flapped in the soft breeze as you let the nurse manning the check-ins know why you were there. When you were shown inside, you noticed the open space had been outfitted with portable medical equipment to create a busy hive of treatment cubicles and testing areas.

You glanced around the crowded space until you found him. Taller than most of the room, intent on his work, and confidently in his element, Dr. Zayne scribbled onto the clipboard a nurse was holding toward him. Finishing his last marking, he looked up, cool hazel eyes thawing ever-so-slightly and dented with a happy crinkle as he straightened and dismissed your escort.

"Right on time," he murmured, grabbing two latex gloves, a yellow file folder, and his medical bag.

"Miracles can happen when you least expect them," you teased with a grin.

Zayne started to usher you toward a makeshift examination corner since all the cubicle curtains were closed. "Medical miracles, maybe," he quipped. "But you being on time? That’s a phenomenon even science can’t explain."

You laughed softly, sitting down as he gestured to a folding chair and rested his medical bag on the wobbly table next to him. "Careful, Dr. Zayne, your bedside manner is slipping."

With an amused shake of his head, he reassured, "This shouldn't take long. Just a quick exam, same as always."

You nodded, rolling up your sleeve as he pressed his cool fingers to the inside of your wrist and got started. His touch was warm but impersonal, his attention fixed on his readings. He moved methodically, pressing the tips of his fingers over your heart and chest.

Though the process was clinical, you couldn't help but study Zayne with fondness — the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his nostrils flared when a loud noise interrupted him, the way his breath became a tickle on your cheek when he leaned in to adjust his stethoscope.

That was the moment you heard his voice.

“Don't tell me you're afraid now,” Sylus demanded from the clinic's entrance, making nurses and bystanders alike stand to attention, as if they couldn't help but wait for his next directive. “I could put you two into far worse situations.”

Two hooded boys in medical masks shuffled in behind him, the defiant puff of their chests doing little to hide their apprehension. At Sylus' words Luke scowled but didn’t argue while Kieran kept glancing toward the exit like a cornered animal. Giving them a pointed look toward the nurse they were supposed to follow, he took a few steps forward before his eyes landed on you.

The vision of the leader of Onychinus halting in place with a satisfied smirk spreading across his face was unnerving enough to straighten every spine in the vicinity. But he barely noticed as he waved off the boys and made his way toward you.

Then his eyes flicked to the person next to you. To the stern yet striking man whose face was so close to yours he was practically stealing your fucking air from you.

Jaw tightening — the only outward sign of his discomfiture—Sylus strode toward you with deliberate, measured steps, his posture casual but predatory.

A fluttering of wings had taken flight in your stomach as soon as you'd heard Sylus' gravelly voice, but for the sake of Zayne's time and not raising any eyebrows in the semi-public setting, you'd resolved to find Sylus after your check-up. Unfortunately for you, Sylus never much cared about the concept of discretion when it came to you.

Stopping behind you, he placed the edge of his palm on your shoulders, spreading his fingers across your chest in a rather over-the-top display of possessiveness.

Doctor Zayne hadn't even looked up at the interruption and had moved on to digging for a tool in his medical bag when the hand-shaped barrier blocked his access to your heart.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?" Though the words were casual, his tone was wrapped in barbed wire.

"Sylus!" You said, hoping the breathlessness in your voice wasn't too noticeable. Looking up at his sharp features, which managed to be frustratingly beautiful even upside down, you smiled and moved his hands from your chest to your biceps, patting the tops of them twice. "I didn't know this is what you meant when you said you were taking care of some business with Luke and Kieran. Shouldn't you be with them?"

A low chuckle emerged from his throat, laced with both amusement and menace. "I was, sweetie. That is, until someone else piqued my... curiosity." His hands slid slowly down to the crooks of your elbows and then disappeared. Suddenly, the chair next to you was occupied with your boyfriend's imposing form, eyes boring into Zayne's unflappable figure. "I didn't realize doctors from Linkon City made special appointments when they visited Vagrant's Land."

“I volunteer here once a month,” Zayne said matter-of-factly. He didn’t look up as he re-focused on his examination of you, ignoring Sylus' eyes — one, a muted scarlet, the other an angry vermillion — trained on every movement. “It’s a good way to reach those who can’t make it to a hospital.”

Sylus’s gaze darkened, his lips curving into a tight smile. “How noble of you. I see you're very—” His eyes lingered on Zayne’s hand, still resting against your chest. “—thorough with your patients.”

"Sylus," you cut in quickly. "Have you met my childhood friend, Zayne? We recently reconnected when he became my doctor."

But Sylus' attention didn't move from Zayne.

“Any good doctor is thorough,” Zayne replied, turning to jot down notes into your file. His voice was calm, almost bored, as if Sylus’s presence barely registered. “If something's off, it's important to work on her as soon as possible."

“I’ll bet it is,” Sylus muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

Recognizing the simmering menace in his tone, you jam your elbow into Sylus' narrowing your eyes in a silent warning. Your string of bad luck continued however, when, after he placed a dramatic hand over his elbow, Sylus went back to watching your childhood friend with the kind of intensity that made most people fear for their lives.

Zayne, of course, was not most people.

“Do you mind?” Zayne asked, flicking a quick glance at Sylus through his lashes. “I’m trying to work.”

“Not at all,” Sylus replied smoothly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Another tense few minutes pass, and the balloon of pressure in your chest expanded second by second as the tension between Sylus and Zayne crackled like static.

You were caught between irritation with Sylus for his uncharacteristically territorial behavior or shock with Zayne, who was acting more aloof than usual, almost like he was... purposefully fueling Sylus' ire.

“So, Sylus,” you said brightly, trying again to diffuse the situation. “Why'd you bring Luke and Kieran here?”

“Do they seem like the guys who'd show up to update their vaccines if I didn't drag them myself?” he shot back with a smirk, jerking his head toward the cubicle Luke and Kieran were in.

“That’s admirable,” Zayne remarked, his tone neutral. “More people should take an interest in the well-being of others.”

“That's me, a real caretaker," Sylus drawled, eyes narrowed. And just like that, any hope for the peace you'd been building toward popped like a bubble. "Though I can't say I'm as hands-on as you, doctor. At least... not in public."

"A shame." Zayne raised an eyebrow, his expression faintly amused. “Hands-on can be very effective when done correctly.”

The implication hung in the air, subtle but deliberate. You groaned internally, feeling like a rope in an increasingly taut tug-of-war.

“Alright, enough,” you snapped, looking down at them with your hands on your hips. “Sylus, this is just a check-up. Zayne, stop provoking.”

Both men fell silent, though the charged atmosphere lingered.

Sylus had the nerve to look almost... chagrined for the first time in his life, which alone worked wonders on your frustration — though from the way he stood and rested his hand on the back of your neck, it might've been more placating than chagrined.

Zayne, who also stood up, simply adjusted his glasses, his composure as unshaken as ever.

“I’m done here,” Zayne said, handing you a slip of paper. “I've updated the schedule according to your upcoming work trips. Other than that, you're fine.”

“Thank you, Zayne,” you smile warmly, stuffing the paper into your bag.

Zayne nodded, then turned to Sylus and held out his hand in a begrudging truce. “She’s in good health. You can relax.”

For a moment, you stared at Sylus' stoic expression and worried all hell would break loose in Vagrant's Land. Then, he linked his hand with Zayne's and gave it a firm, business-like shake, turned you around, and led you back to the entrance to wait for Luke and Kieran.

You couldn’t help but glance back at Zayne as you walked. He'd already moved onto his next patient, but caught your eye when you look around. And you could've sworn that Zayne, Doctor Zayne, your childhood friend, winked at you.

Once you were far enough to feel the afternoon breeze sweep over you, Sylus' gaze softened as he searched your face. “You feeling alright?” he asked, looking at the place where her aether core rested. His voice was quieter now, the edges of his tone no longer sounding so ruffled.

“I don't know. How should I feel after I've been pissed on by my boyfriend at my doctor's appointment?” Though you try to sound angry, it comes out as nothing but pure amusement.

At your smile, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and the corner of his lips curved. "Pissed on? I'd never do something so crass, kitten." He leaned down, his breath gliding over the crook of your neck like a feather, and rasped, "You know I'm more of a biter."

[egophiliac]

I don’t think we’ve ever seen you draw knight of dawn before 🤔 what are your thoughts about him? Or take?

I've drawn him a couple of times, just really little/in the background. but I should draw him more, I love this guy a lot! I have many, many thoughts about him and the way he parallels Silver...and also I think it is extremely funny that his ghost is stuck in a ring. especially considering where that ring has been for the last 16-ish years.

[ruporas]

new year! [id in alt]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Never underestimate the healing power of a good meal!

(For @nibbelraz!)

[zeldalizzy]

Happy Holidays from the Old Man and the Smithy! 🎄✨Just a simple little thing I threw together lol but I had to do something fun for Christmas!! The thought process behind this was basically that the rest of the boys decided that their oldest member would be a fitting Father Christmas, and the shortest hero would be a fitting Yuletide Elf. After a bit of begrudging, Time and Four finally caved and let Wild take a picture 😂

Anyways, I hope that everyone has a blessed Christmas and a wonderful New Year!! Thank you all for your encouragement and support; I couldn't do this without you! All of you have been such a gift to me, and I am incredibly grateful for that!!

The Merriest of Christmases to you and yours!! 🩵

[kataraslove]

i commissioned @javeldg for katara and aang as that one tomdaya picture :’)

[hansoeii]

Lokius commission for @uf-oh's fanfiction "i look up at the gaps of sunlight (i miss you more than anything)" ⭐