#and Frank is easy for me to draw which is cool

[peachy-keenss]

Frank n’ Tate! The most trust worthy lady and town and that sketchy guy who drops especially annoying children off at her shop for her to play mom with when he doesn’t have chloroform. They are friends.

[hwashua-luv]

Sweet Encounters

Walking down the pavement—the gentle hum of city life around you, the long shadows of the late-afternoon sun sprawling over the ground. Just an ordinary day, with the same tired routines and duties in store. Little did you know, today would bring a surprise that would turn the whole course of your day upside down.

That was a few months ago when you first met Choi Seungcheol. This time, it was purely incidental; he had bumped into you at an art gallery in front of the very same painting. He was quite the smooth talker, breaking the ice by striking up a conversation, and you were easily pulled in by his effortless grace and interest in your thoughts. What began as light, ephemeral pleasantries turned into a slew of texts and sporadic meetups.

At best, your relationship with him was unconventional. Seungcheol was a millionaire businessman with a reputation for being charismatic and mysterious; you were an aspiring writer trying to make a name in a world that often felt indifferent. Although he was far above your station, Seungcheol had offered you financial support; it was an act starting in its frankness. He insisted on referring to it as a mutual arrangement, a way in which you could end up with a little bit of free time to write with less continuous level stress of not having enough money.

Today you met with him again for yet another of your regular catch-ups. The evening was warm, and you dressed simple, yet elegant: a perfect choice for the occasion. You had always loved moments like that with him; he provided comfort to your soul by his side and in his conversation.

You reached the upscale café where you decided to meet Seungcheol, and seated at one edge, you found him, incredibly stylish in his made-to-measure suit. His eyes lit up as yours met his, and he quickly rose from his seat. The friendly smile was just right.

"Hey," you answered, trying to cool down the enthusiasm and nervousness that had crept into your voice. "Sorry I'm a bit late."

"Not at all," he said suavely, drawing out a chair for you. "You look lovely, as always."

You sat down, your heart fluttering at the compliment. "Thank you. How was your day?"

"Busy, but good," he answered, eyeing the menu. "I've been looking forward to this all day. It's nice to have a break from the usual routine."

The waiter came around and took your drink orders, and you soon fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Seungcheol talked animatedly about his new business venture to which you spoke a little about how you wrote and some of the difficulties you ran into.

The conversation was so easy; you just couldn't help feeling that you were meant to be with him. The class and money barriers didn't seem to count in each other's presence. It was just two human beings who understand each other, share interests, and respect each other.

After some time, he came back with your drinks and a small plate of pastries. Taking a sip out of your coffee, feeling the rich taste melting inside, you took a moment to relax.

"So," Seungcheol said, the soft look in his eye directed at you. "I've been meaning to ask. How are you feeling about your writing lately? Are you making any progress?

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and hesitation. "Actually, yeah. I have been struggling a bit. There's this one story that's just been giving me a hard time. I mean, I keep rewriting the same scenes over and over again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, attentive. "Writer's block, huh? I know that can be tough. Sometimes it helps to step away from it for a while and gain a new perspective."

You nodded, feeling he understood you. "That's what I've been trying to do. Maybe some distance will clear things up."

Reaching the length of the table, he picked up your hand with such warm, gentle hands that a nice shiver ran up your arm. "You're really good, and I know you're going to totally ace this. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just say the word."

It was the sincerity in his voice that swelled your heart. You looked into his eyes, and you could see they held real concern and encouragement for you. It was in these little moments that you realized just how special the connection you shared with Seungcheol truly was.

As the night dragged on, you noticed that you became looser and less rigid. The topic of their conversation grew more light-hearted and filled with laughter and banter. Then the sun began to set, giving a golden hue to the outdoor café setting.

Finally, the conversation quietened down, and there it was: that comfortable silence between the two of you. You gazed on Seungcheol, who watched you with another thoughtful expression.

"I'm really glad we met," he said softly. "You brought so much light into my life."

You felt a flush hit your cheeks after hearing such words. "That's nice to say. You've been so kind and supportive. I really don't know where else I would be otherwise."

His eyes locked with yours, and for one full moment, everything else seemed to blend out of focus. There was a level of understanding between you that spoke for a connection so deep, one that had cultivated over the months.

His eyes never strayed from yours as Seungcheol began to move closer, inch by inch. His hand still rested against yours as your breath hitched in your throat, your mind grasping exactly what was happening next. You felt mixed emotions, part excited, part nervous.

His lips brushed against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation was tender and full of emotion; it could not be more perfect, a real reflection of the bond between you both. Your bond is deepening now, and with each touch, your heart begins racing as you melt into this moment.When he pulled away, the both of you were panting, your eyes locked in what seemed like mutual understanding. The kiss was more than a physical action. It was like the seal on the pent-up feelings building between you.

His smile was tender, relieved. "I've wanted to do that for a while now.".

You couldn't help but smile back, and contentment rushed. "I'm glad you did."

The rest of the night was basically a blur of happiness. You walked around a park located a few blocks from the coffee shop. The two of you talked and laughed as the stars began to appear above. It was a perfect ending to a day that started off somewhat ordinary but turned out to be really memorable.

"It's a deal," Seungcheol shook your hand the last time while saying goodbye, the slow, light squeeze meaningful.

"I'll see you soon."

You nodded; you were getting too thrilled and happy. "I can't wait."

He left your side with a final smile and a lingering look, and you walked away, with each step you took away from him you felt everything swell with the promise of a future bright and hopeful, more than it ever was.

That sweet encounter with Choi Seungcheol made you realize that sometimes life surprises you. You just found something extraordinary in the middle of your routine—some honest connection reeling out from societal bounds to touch your heart in ways unimaginable.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Word count: 1217

Author's note: The same one-shot has been posted on Wattpad (hwashua-luv). Requests are also open <3

All rights reserved. © 2024 hwashua-luv

All works written by me do not copy, translate or repost my works without my given consent.

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline Part 3 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: frank discussion about sex & pregnancy, sorta nsfw

<----Part 1 Part 2 chapter map

-You go to a natural pool in the back of the estate, the stones of the dam hand-laid by your ancestors generations ago. The moon is high, and no one else is here, too busy celebrating. “It’s beautiful,” says Paul, filled with wonder. “Everything here is so beautiful.” He is looking at you, when he says the last, and you don’t know what you’ve done to deserve the admiration in his eyes. 

You jump in head first, clothes and all. Everything needs a rinse. When you surface the moon is bright enough that you can see his earnest expression, his powerful body poised to plunge in after you to save you. You alarmed him. It’s so endearing, and you feel a little guilty. 

“It feels wonderful,” you say, holding out your hand to him. He relaxes a little, gives that boyish smile that ties your heartstrings up in knots. He kicks off his shoes first, before diving in. You are treading water, but he finds a rock with his long legs on which to stand. You cling to his shoulders, smiling like a fool. 

“I feel like I found a mermaid,” he says, holding you close. The water is cool, and the line of his body heat against yours is wonderful. 

“You’d better hope not,” you tease. “Don’t sirens try to drown sailors after luring them in?”

“Hmm.” He pulls you closer with that gentle smile. “You seem pretty sweet to me.”

You sigh at hearing that. “Oh Paul…” You kiss again, a slow, lingering press of lips that curls your toes, and makes you wrap your legs around him in the water. “Y/n?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I wouldn’t mind, you know, if we really were married.” 

With a sigh you rest your chin in the bend of his neck. You feel like you can tell this man anything, and he won’t get mad, and yet part of you just wants to protect him. Most of all, from yourself. 

“You don’t want me. Not really.” 

“That’s news to me.” You can tell he’s smiling as he says this. It makes you smile too. 

“Maybe you want to make love to me.”

He laughs shyly; you feel like your bones are filled with sunshine. “Yes.” You can feel the evidence of this, his hard, large bulge poking against your center. It fills you with stupifying want all over again.

You kiss him behind the ear. “You can.” Another kiss, your lips dragging across his cheek. “Just…don’t finish inside me.” He laughs again, quieter, completely self-deprecating, as though you’ve suggested the impossible. 

“Sure. Says the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Riiight.” You roll your eyes, drawing back to look at him. He’s beautiful like this, his dark hair slicked back, water droplets silver on his eyelashes. 

“I mean it. You are, to me.”

“Paul…” You toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, your heart so full it physically aches.

“I would take care of you,” he tells you gently. “If…we made a baby.” 

You believe him, too. It moves you, every cell in your body straining for this man, and inexplicably that makes you angry, mostly at yourself. 

It sounds like such an easy thing, like baking a cake. Mix the ingredients, put it in the oven, pull out a sweet little bundle of joy. Make a baby. But you know it is truly a bloody and dangerous business, for a woman. You’ve seen it first hand. And bringing the thing into the world is only the start.

“I don’t want to be a mother, and I don’t want to be taken care of,” you tell him, knowing you sound petulant, unable to stop. You let go of him, pushing off to swim across the pool. Now the water feels unbearably cold, without him. 

However, somehow, he still isn’t angry. He just watches you across the water, with those sad soulful eyes. “What do you want, y/n?” 

You think he’s the only man who’s ever really asked you that. 

“I want…freedom,” you admit, and once you start you can’t stop. “I want to live on my own terms, rather than someone else’s. I want to just be responsible for myself, instead of having to run after children and men who act like children and constantly cleaning up someone else’s mess. I want a room of my own, with a window overlooking the Bay, with an Underwood typewriter. I want to write books. I want to travel. I want…” You look at him, smiling winsomely across the quicksilver waters at you, and your next words ball up in your throat. 

I want you.   

All the things you named before, seem stupid, utterly pointless, without that last keystone to hold it all together. 

You don’t know how to tell him that, without utterly signing yourself away to him.

He nods, to himself as much as you. “I hope you get those things, y/n. I hope you get everything you want.” 

“I hope you do too,” you say, and mean it. “I hope you get your house, your family, and your dog.” You can’t see how you fit anywhere in that picture. 

He shrugs, looking down at the water, making ripples beneath the surface with his big hands. “It was just…an abstract idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“The things we want can change, with the people we meet.” 

“Paul…”

“What if…I just want you?”

“You don’t.”

“Yes I do.” He says it sweetly with a shrug, just so matter of fact. 

“I would hurt you.”

“Maybe. But maybe…it would be worth it, to try. I think I love you, y/n.” 

You freeze treading water, and almost choke on a mouthful as you sink. 

What have you done? 

 Before you can think of anything to say, or swim to him again to kiss him silly, a hair-raising scream splits the air in the distance. You know that sound, and your blood runs cold. 

“What the hell was that?”

“Gato monte.”

“A what?”

“Lion. Mountain lion. Time to go. Vamos!”

Don Juan was a hunter, and he had a rug made of one in his den. Maybe you would show Paul–if you made it back to the house alive. You run back to the hacienda together soaking wet, hand in hand. He left his shoes behind in your haste. As soon as you make it back to the flood of torchlight by the house you feel safe. Only then do you laugh together, leaning on the stone wall. 

“The devil have you two been up to?” demands a familiar voice filled with disdain. 

You gravitate into Paul’s arms without even looking. 

“Swimming, señor,” you answer, short of breath. We heard–a mountain lion.”

Don Juan emerges from the shadows, smirks, pleased for some reason, and you wonder if maybe the sound you heard was not the leon, but a man. 

“The two of you should be careful. So many bad fates could befall a man, out in the mountains.” 

He is looking at Paul as he says it, and your heart drops like a stone. You know that look from when you were children, and you're afraid don Juan is up to something bad.

TBC...

[pridelessdaydreamer]

PLOTTER / SHIPPER

taken from: nat's linoan!

tagging: flutters my lashes like a funny lil guy :eye::sparkles:

1. CONNECTIONS

write about how our muses could connect with each other! ex. what does your muse like to do that other people would be involved in? do they have interests that other people might share?

Linhardt is a Black Eagle, and one native to Fódlan. Any who decide to study the politics of the continent would easily stumble upon his house, and connections can be drawn from there (accurate or otherwise).

She is a frequenter of the library though, even if she's most often found there late at night. Aside from her chronic reading, she also likes to fish! Not competitively though. She's not that competitive.

If you can't find them in class, the library, or at the Fishing Grounds though, just wander around the monastery a bit—they're probably asleep underneath a tree somewhere. Or in their room asleep, in which case, good luck finding them.

2. PLATONIC

write about your muse and their concept of friendship. ex. how is your muse like with friends? do they make friends easily or do they find it difficult to connect with others?

Friendship for Lin is... interesting, to say the least. They'll regard you much the same as they would any other person, but perhaps with slightly less rudeness/sass (unless you're really close, then it's worse *cough cough* CASPAR *cough cough*). The chance of summoning them with the click of your heels increases by 0.5%, so that's also a neat bonus! Really, the big thing is that they'll consciously worry about you now (when they think it's necessary to worry, otherwise, you're on your own).

The thing is, once you actually manage to pin him down, so long as you aren't asking him to do work all the time, you'd be pretty alright in his book! The threshold for 'friendship' though is rather hard to pin down—one day you're acquaintances and the next you're friends. It's not really easy to draw the line.

I can't say she makes friends easily considering she... doesn't exactly try, to be quite frank (it's part of the reason the previous bullet is so nebulous). She'd be completely content being alone forever (minus that one hamster), and she doesn't really rely on others that much except to do work she'd rather not do! Actively seeking out a friend isn't really something she does. I can't say she struggles either though—there is simply no effort made at all. Alas.

3. ANTAGONISTIC

write about your muse and the conflicts they have with other people. ex: who are they on bad terms with? what kind of people do they not get along well with? how do they act around people they don’t like?

Hubert. Also Ferdinand. Edelgard to an extent. Caspar sometimes (it's a best friends thing) /j. Yeah. Yeah.

To elaborate, anybody who expects her to put in more than the minimum amount of effort gotta be joking fr! It's not that bad if it's a misunderstanding, but if you try to force it? Yikes. (Edelgard ain't that bad fr cuz she knows when to quit! Also when to appeal. She's cool ong)

Admittedly, antagonism for Linhardt is basically the same as their normal behavior, just snarkier. More witty rebuttals and sharp comments—this man can never be anything but blunt! They're already very likely to just walk away from a conversation, but if they don't like you? Ohoho!

Won't lose sleep over it though. That's a bit too much.

4. ROMANTIC

write about your muse and their relationship with romance. ex. are they searching for love or not interested in it in the slightest? what’s their dating history like? how do they act around crushes? how would they treat their partner if they were in a relationship?

Okay 'cause this is hilarious when the muse is aromantic gwahaha!

This is an aroace lil guy—completely disinterested in romance for romance's sake (because someone tell me how he tells how many different girls they're gonna have kids together in his A-supports? Also in basically every instance it's got something to do with crests and studying them. He's a bit insane).

Their dating history is completely blank. There is actually nothing to see here.

Similarly, there are no crushes for her to act different around! This one is fairly normal (<- this post was brought to you by the Aspec Gang)

As for how he'd treat his partner if he was dating—the same way he would act if they were friends? lol? Literally nothing has changed in his mind except that there might be kisses or something. (Is there a book he can read somewhere on this? Probably.)

Oh well she's probably gonna get married off for political purposes anyway. (This post was brought to you by the Noble Clique.)

[superyoshiegg]

Goofy ahh unhinged nerd rant

House of Ashes spoiler warning.

One of my personal biggest problems with the game, besides the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad plot armour for most of the cast, is the endings. Or rather, *ending*.

Because there's just the one. Only the one finale scenario at that, too.

Until Dawn did this too, way back in 2015, but you would have thought that four games later (UD>HA>MoM>LH>) that they would be improving in this regard, not stagnating. Or worse, regressing.

Combined with the fact that Nick, Salim and Jason cannot die until the last 10 minutes of the game **really** kills the replayability of the game, and thus (to me) the biggest draw of this genre.

For as much justifiable flak as Little Hope gets, it still had *seven* different endings (although personally I think it's closer to four real ones).

Not only did Man of Medan also have seven endings, but it has three different ending scenarios to boot!

Daylight is a cool spectacle for sure, but if you boil it down mechanically, it is literally just an easy QTE fest. Full Circle, Lake, Ultimatum, Flooded and Matters of the Heart all feature dialogue options and choices to go alongside the QTEs (except LH which lacks QTEs altogether which is fine), which makes me want to play them over Daylight any day.

TL;DR - Replaying House of Ashes feels more like replaying a slightly variable Call of Duty campaign, and it's not because it's a military themed title. I seriously hope that The Casting of Frank Stone and Season 2 of The Dark Pictures Anthology do NOT repeat this mistake.

[hmslusitania]

It tightens its grip when things go unsaid

A soft (??) 5x14 coda built on like a dozen posts I saw on my dash this morning. It sure went. A direction.

“Oh my god, you kept this?”

Eddie freezes in place, paused with his hands and the broccolini under the frigid water of the tap.

“Kept what?” he asks, attempting for casual. It had been a lot easier to maintain a calm disinterest before Frank but as it turns out, part of getting better was giving up playing numb.

Buck pulls the drawing off the fridge, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Gives himself that much longer to deny it.

“Eddie,” Buck prompts, and there’s laughter in his voice but there’s something else too. Something softer, gentler.

“It was — Chris said I—” and he pauses again. Because yes, Chris had said he should keep Buck’s heart drawing, but that wasn’t why Eddie had done it. And he’s spent enough time filtering his feelings towards Buck through Chris. “I liked it.”

Buck snorts and pins it back under the magnets. “Makes me feel bad. I shoulda drawn you a better one.”

“I didn’t draw you one at all,” Eddie replies which is probably nonsensical.

“It’s not like I’ve got a fridge to hang it on anymore anyway,” Buck points out.

He doesn’t. Not with the way he’s been sleeping on Eddie’s couch since he ceded his apartment in the breakup. He’s been in Eddie’s house for two weeks now and Eddie can’t fathom how Buck has missed the drawing so far.

It’s later when they’re on shift, and everyone else is passed out, that Eddie gets the idea. They don’t exactly keep craft supplies around the station, but he finds some paper and a pencil and by the time Bobby wakes up to come get started on breakfast, Eddie’s gone a bit overboard. Partway into the exercise, he’d noticed one of Hen’s surgical textbooks lying in the loft and flipped it to the relevant page, and as it turns out, the art classes he’d taken in high school — the ones he’d insisted were just because he was crushing on a girl, which made them acceptable — hadn’t quite worn off.

The piece of art he’s scribbled down in graphite isn’t quite an anatomical heart and it isn’t quite a photorealistic depiction from the textbook and it isn’t quite the cartoony simplicity Buck had given him. It’s not nearly so digestible and easy to accept. He thinks the thing he’s supposed to do with something like this is being it to his therapist the way a pet cat brings a dead animal, but he doesn’t. Instead, he avoids Bobby’s questioning gaze and takes it downstairs. He tapes it to the inside door of their locker, and forgets about it seconds later because the bell goes.

He doesn’t think about it again until the second Buck opens their locker after their shift is done. He pauses, head tilting sideways, and Eddie considers ducking behind the shelves and hiding his face in the stacks of towels.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Buck says. “This is, like, cool.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“It’s cool,” Buck says. He gently unpeels the tape from the locker and just stares down at the drawing. “Would it be weird if I got this as a tattoo?”

“If you got it as—seriously?”

Buck looks guileless when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s eye. “I don’t have a fridge.”

Eddie almost points out that this is why he’d put it in the locker, but something in Buck’s face stops him. He almost points out that Buck’s skin is not interchangeable with a fridge, but he doesn’t do that either. It’s the visual representation of Eddie’s still battered but healing heart and Buck wants to ink it onto his own flesh.

“If you want,” Eddie says finally. “But I won’t be offended if you change your mind by the time you actually get in to see an artist.”

Buck grins but it’s too soft around the eyes to be a real flippant smile. “I won’t.”

[sativaonsaturn]

the signs in their feelings pt. 1 (songs for the signs vol. 2)

this one is a little all over the place 😅 i apologize in advance. i organized it well so it should at least be an easy read :)

TW/ drug abuse

hi! so originally this post was going to go over every sign but I got caught up in analyzing these couple songs and didn’t want a long, drawn out post. so pls stay tuned for pt.2 where i cover more signs. - sativa 🍃

💦 Capricorn Moon (with a minor in libra mars/ moon?): Novacane and Thinkin Bout You by Frank Ocean (who has a libra mars and capricorn moon in 3rd house, which i found particularly interesting bc these songs seem to be conveying emotions to someone without telling them directly)

so in Thinkin Bout You he starts with deflecting (mars in detriment):

“A tornado flew around my room before you came/ Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn’t rain in”

then he goes on to address his true feelings (3rd house moon):

“My eyes don’t shed tears, but boy they pour when…/ I’m thinkin’ bout you”

then he draws it back with (moon in detriment):

“No, I don’t like you, I just thought you were cool enough to kick it”

finally he opens up (3rd house again):

“Yes of course I remember, how could I forget how you feel?”

!big disclaimer!: pls keep in mind that this song is written about an individual’s experiences and that these experiences are clouded by TW/ drug use. so these may not resonate if you have not shared these experiences.

now in Novacane, he starts off again with subdued emotions (moon + mars in detriment):

“Zero emotion, muted emotion/ Pitch corrected, computed emotion”

“Sink full of dishes, pacing in the kitchen/ Cocaine for breakfast”

He’s trying to be present in his pleasure but struggles to while everything is suppressed (cap moon, but! this experience is largely due to drug use):

“Been tryna film pleasure with my eyes wide shut”

He reveals a little of what he’s truly feeling (3rd house moon):

“But there’s no drug around/ Quite like what I found in you, you”

“You put me on a feeling that I never had, never had/ And ever since I’ve been tryna get it back/ And pick it up and put it back”

Then returns to covering up (libra mars):

“I still can’t feel my face/ What am I smoking anyway?”

thank you for reading! i hope you found this interesting like i did

sativaonsaturn 🍃🪐

[starbornvalkyrie]

ACOSF USA BOOK TOUR NOTES

Hey y’all! I just attended the LiveTalks Los Angeles event with Sarah J Maas and Eva Chen!! I took lots of notes so I wanted to share them with you all! They’re a little incoherent on the page, so it might seem a crazy, they jumped topics a lot. Feel free to chat with me about what she talked about! But first.

MY RULES:

NO SHIP OR CHARACTER SLANDERING. I know that we all may have different opinions. I will not offer my opinions here, this is purely informational for those of you who did not have the opportunity to attend this event.

PLEASE NO ARGUING IN MY COMMENTS OR ASK BOX WITH ME OR ANYONE ELSE WHO COMMENTS

Acknowledge that I am not perfect and may not have written down everything perfectly. I did my best while still trying to enjoy the event.

I AM NOT SARAH J MAAS AND CANNOT INTERPRET WHAT SHE MEANS

I’m tagging this with #acosf spoilers and #acosfspoilers just in case.

If you understand and can abide by these rules, keep reading below the cut, and enjoy!

SJM said it was weird doing this event from her living room where you might be able to hear her dog in the background or her son trying to get into the room.

ACOSF started as a passion project while she was writing ACOWAR! It was never anything she thought she was going to publish. (more on this later)

About reading and writing growing up

in middle school, she read a lot of fantasy

in high school, she didn’t read as much, but wrote A LOT. it became her fixation, almost an obsession.

in college, she only really wrote on vacations (she had a very healthy social life hehehe) but her junior year is when she found her balance between schoolwork, writing, and socializing.

there was no plan B for her!! it was always to be an author. if it didn’t happen right away, she was going to find a job that would get her by until plan A could come to be.

her favorite author growing up was Garth Nix. She longed for books about badass women. She got to meet him and write a blurb to be on one of his books! She cries when she meets her favorite authors.

Talk about character names!

her character names come from everywhere and nowhere

sometimes she’ll just hear a name in her head and think “that’s it!” (Rhys, for example)

she needs to know the name to write the character

if the name doesn’t immediately come to her, she spends a lot of her time on baby name websites and makes lists until it clicks

sometimes the names just... connect. sometimes she doesn’t mean for them to.

it will always be uncommon. never “Frank” lol

Writing about Nesta!

on a “surface level” she loves writing when Nesta comes out to fight. for example, her favorite scene in this aspect to write was the bog scene. As soon as she got to it, it flowed out of her. The final product was almost identical to the first draft. She wrote it in one session, from the terror & tread to the “who am i?” to when she emerged--she went YES. MAJOR Mic Drop moment for her.

going deeper: definitely her overall journey was one of the favorites she’s ever written. From the dark place she’s in at the beginning to the very end. 

Writing about Nesta meant so much to her because of her own mental health. She channeled a lot of her own feelings and went on the journey with Nesta.

it was a lot of “how do you face mental health in a fantasy world without therapy and medication”

it was easy to get into Nesta’s mind but emotionally intense.

ACOSF’S BIG MESSAGE: LEARNING TO LOVE YOURSELF AND OTHERS. YOU ARE WORTH OF LOVE.

YES there is a book planned for Elain!

As soon as Nesta and Elain came onto the page again in ACOMAF, she knew they’d get their own journey.

Nesta grabbed her by the throat in book 1

She was originally contracted for only the first three books but realized there was more she wanted to explore. Essentially the “what comes next” after ACOWAR in this new world with out the wall.

FUN FACT: while editing ACOMAF/writing ACOWAR, she drunkenly told her editor at the time, “hey guess what happens next?”, and it turned into a two hour conversation about everything she wants to happen for Nesta, Elain, Mor, Azriel, etc. TWO WEEKS LATER, she gets a call saying they want to buy the stories!! Obviously, she said yes.

This allowed her to start planting the Easter eggs for these stories in ACOWAR. She knew she did not want Nesta to be sympathetic at the beginning of the book! But she did not want people to hate her.

She always has one eye on the horizon for future books.

If she could visit one court for a day, which and why?

She LOVES the season Autumn, it’s her favorite. “BUT EVERYONE IN THE AUTUMN COURT IS AN ASSHOLE”. She would want to visit the Autumn Court when no one is there so she can enjoy the beauty of Autumn.

But also she would want to go to the Summer Court because she has a thing for Tarquin but only if it’s not gross and humid.

She would ALSO want to go to the Day Court for Helion and all his libraries.

ESSENTIALLY she would want to go everywhere but Spring because Tamlin sucks and is an asshole lmao.

BEAST FORMS

SJM’s beast form would be something totally not cool or majestic like a sea otter.

Nesta’s beast form would be something terrifying and beautiful like a snow leopard/dragon hybrid, a griffin, or a sphinx. **WANTS SOMEONE TO DRAW THIS**

FUN QUESTIONS

Nesta’s favorite smutty book would be JR Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series. She reads these books for the distraction, of course, but also for the comfort they gave her that everything turns out okay for the characters.

Nesta’s Starbucks order: cappuccino- something simple, nothing with too much sugar or whipped cream. Elain’s would be a Frappe- something delicious and sweet. SJM’s is a flat white, iced or not, but never after 2PM.

SJM usually listens to classical music and movie scores while she writes, but she’s gotten used to write in silence so that she can listen for her son’s shenanigans with Josh.

“Stay Together for the Kids” by Blink 182 semi-inspired the scene when Nesta and Cassian go back to her family’s cottage. She can hardly explain why.

WRITING ADVICE

Write what you love, not what you think you should be writing.

Give yourself permission to suck. Her first drafts are shit and are usually accompanied with an email that says “I know I need to fix this, this and that” lol.

WRITE THE DAMN THING. Vomit on the page!

YOU CAN’T FIX A BLANK PAGE.

Her least favorite part about the publishing process is the first pass of copy edits, those last minute checks and balances. But once it’s off to the printer, it’s not her problem anymore.

She’s every publisher’s worst nightmare because she sends it off to the printer at the LAST possible minute.

For reference: Throne of Glass was finished almost... a year and a half? ...before it hit shelves, but ACOSF was finished this past fall.

MAIN CHARACTER TALK

All of her heroines have a piece of her.

SJM’s personality is a hybrid of Bryce and Nesta.

Feyre and Nesta got most of her in terms of learning to be empowered.

She has to have a connection to them in order to write them. It’s an out of body, method acting experience.

MISCELLANEOUS

She said “CC2 is a year from now.”

She started writing ACOTAR in 2008 before she published TOG.

She loves the story and dynamic of Elizabeth and Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Cassian is Elizabeth. Nesta is Darcy.

And that’s all I have, folks! Thank you for reading, I hope you got something out of this!

[tubbietommo]

MY TOP 10 F1 HELMETS OF 2020 (AS A GRAPHIC DESIGNER)

With finally that dumb rule about amount of helmet changes out of our system, I’ve been enjoying seeing all these different helmets this season. There have been beauties, some that I’m still thinking about till this day and there have been some uglies.. some also which I’ve been thinking about till this day and literally thinking: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?!? to the drivers that wore them. 

As I’m getting my official graphic design ‘papers’ I wanted to give my opinion about my top 10 helmets of this year: 

10: Daniil Kvyat Abu Dhabi helmet

This is his last helmet and honestly I’m a fan of this one. It’s a pretty simple design and usually I’m not a big fan of the colour red being used in a helmet. Mostly because I find that colour a bit overdone in helmets. But it being sparkly makes it extremely beautiful and it’s the first Alpha Tauri helmet that I’ve seen that match fully with that big ass logo on there. With most of the Alpha Tauri helmets I feel like the helmets designs have two parts to it, the design and the big ass logo. But with this one I find it matching extremly well. Good job on that, love it.

9: Pierre AustrianGP helmet (fan made)

Oof, the front and the upper part of this helmet is just so fun. I’m a big fan of using a dark background with a very bright color scheme combined and I love the fact that this was a competition where fans could design Pierre’s helmet and that a beautiful design was chosen. I would have loved it even more if the alpha tauri logo wasn’t there. Especially that big. It would have looked so cool and given me an 80′s disco vibe if the whole colourful design was fully around the helmet, without the logo. But I guess with this one I just pretend the logo isn’t there. It's still so good though.

8: Sebastian Vettel Abu Dhabi (ferrari tribute) helmet.

Now I wasn’t sure which helmet of Seb I liked more, this helmet or the Styrian helmet. I decided on this helmet, because it’s such a Seb helmet and reminded me of one of his Red Bull helmet (which is prettier than this one tbh). But also because I think there’s a special concept to this helmet. This obviously could be wrong but to me this helmet is a bit of ‘self reflect’ for Seb. You obviously have the achievements with Ferrari on there and his famous quote ‘grazie ragazzi and the helmet has a bit of a mirror effect. but the colours to me that especially are being used in the number 5 tells me his F1 adventure (past and future). The colours start (in the number 5) with the Redbull colours, than goes into the red(Ferrari) which blends in with a little pink and goes straight to the green(AM). So I really like this little detail even if it wasn’t on purpose, which sorry but I am convinced it is. 

7: The pink Hulkenberg helmet

I’m not gonna lie, I kind of had forgotten about this helmet, but as I’ve been looking back at these helmets this one has been really catching my eyes and is so well done. I find Pink a very hard colour to work with anyway, definitley the bright pink that just screams at you. And the fact that the bright pink isn’t overpowering with the pastel pink and white makes this helmet just nice to look at. The things that needs to grab your attention, grabs your attention and the fact that it has stripes going vertically over the helmet is one of my favourite design choices you can do with helmets so I absolutely love that. If a driver is doing a pink helmet, then this is what I love to see. Very beautiful. 

6: Jack Aitken Abu Dhabi helmet

Now this one I was pleasent surprised by. Lets just put it this way: It’s a busy helmet well done. This is also a helmet that is just nice to look at it. Using these kinds of shapes that go from small once to big once is not easy to make it not look messy and the way they've done the white spaces inbetween the shapes is really well done. It looks like a puzzle that fits well and I have nothing bad to say about this. The color scheme with this one is just amazing. Really really love this one.

5: Lewis Hamilton purple helmet (bahrain)

I haven’t been a fan of Lewis’s helmets before BUT LET ME TELL YOU, this season he has really been bringing it. I am in love with the use of purple. Such an underrated color in this sport. And why? I have no clue. Purple is creative, magic, rich colour. How has it not been used more? It looks so good on this helmet, especially the Bahrein one with the glitter. Very pretty, good job Lewis. Finally! I have nothing bad to say about this helmet. The stars for his champions, the blm message on it. A good helmet right here. 

4: George’s Abu Dhabi GP helmet

I guess a lot of drivers saved their best helmet for last... When I saw this helmet for the first time I was legit in love with it. I love that this helmet is for Frank and Claire and showing the success of Williams which haven’t been showed the last couple of years. But the use of the two dark blue shades with the white lines is complimenting all three colours so beautifully. I really hope George keeps those three colours and make a different kind of design as his main helmet because this looks beautiful to me. I wouldn’t even know anything bad to say about this helmet. Love it.

3: Alex’s Abu Dhabi GP Helmet

Now this one might come as a surprise and I don’t think anyone would’ve picked this one out as a number three BUT HEAR ME OUT. I’m absolutely OBSESSED with the cartoonish design that’s going on with this and it stands out a lot more compared to all the other Red Bull helmets that have been designed since 2015. To me they’ve been all looking kind of the same but this one to me is just so unique while still being a very RedBull helmet. The black outlining makes all of the colours pop out so much more and just the whole cartoon vibe is just right up my alley. If I were to design helmets, the whole cartoon vibe would be what I do and I think that’s one of the main reasons why this helmets speaks to me so much. Like I absolutely love it.

2: Seb’s Tuscan GP helmet

This was the hardest decision, because to me this is a clear number one. I have something with old designs coming back. And I LOVED Seb’s 2019 Monza helmet which was a love letter to the old helmets and I LOVE this helmet for the same reason, but even more so of how creative this is. Obviously it was the 1000GP for Ferrari so there was the inspiration. But I’m just obsessed with the way the old side looks. How they used an old drawing of the old racing car and made it really work. Like it almost looks like an old world map but to a racing driver. I’m obsessed with this side. But also I’m obsessed with the way it goes from the old side to the new with the old looking colours to the vibrant almost neon ‘now’ colours... is just amazing. I probably would’ve loved it even more (if that was possible lmao) if the old side was all around the helmet, but you just have to love this concept. For a 1000gp celebration it’s so good and well thought while still keeping your main design helmet in there. I would love to have this helmet. So cool.

1: Sebastian Vettel diversity helmet

Is it really a surprise that this one is on number one though? Now I’m gonna be honest with you, even though I absolutely love this design, it’s the combination of the design and the extremly strong message this helmet brings to the table that makes this helmet a number one of the season. This helmet is so special I will be thinking about this helmet in probably 10 years still. Now let me talk about the design. The stripes of rainbow where usually the German flag is (which I said before) something I’m obsessed with. I really love a helmet that has stripes going vertically over the helmet. I don’t think a lot of drivers use that and obviously Seb’s Ferrari helmet is known for that design and is so iconic. Your eyes will go straight to the vertically stripes, which in this case are the rainbow colours. But that’s not all. On the side you have all these unique illustrated people. Every character on there is differently that you almost could say you could ‘find yourself’ in there. It really shows the message of this helmet. What I also love and probably is a detail that is a forgotten detail, is how the number five slowly fades with the background. I’m very curious if that’s just a design choice, but I almost would think there’s a concept in that alone. Overall this is just a mind blowing helmet. I have nothing bad to say about it. It’s a beautiful design with an amazing message that should be talked more about in this sport.

[darklightmiwxo]

MIW history

Hello I want to make a history and facts post of MIW. I been a fan for a few months so I may miss some stuff out. New fans can check this out to understand more of the band.

Motionless in white members:

[IMG=OAA]

Name: Chris motionless (cerulli)

Full name: Christopher Cerulli)

Age: 34

Birthday: October 17 1986

Zodiac: Libra

Birth place: Scranton Pennsylvania

Height: 6'1

Role: main singer

Relationship Status: single

Chris says he doesn't want to get married.

Fear: heights and flying

Personality: a really kind person who cares for his fans he's funny and has a dad humor. Everyone just see him as a dad to them.

Interest: Chris really loves dogs. He plays video games halo and call of duty he plays it all the time. His fave bands is slipknot,marlin manson,korn,HIM,and more rock bands.

[IMG=EOZ]

Name: Ricky Olson (horror)

Full name: Richard Alison Olson the third

Nick name: Rick

Age: 32

Birthday: September 1st 1988

Birth place: Seattle WA

Lives: Scranton Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5'6

Uni: he studied film production in college but dropped out for the band.

Role: rhythm guitarist and backing vocalist

Relationship status: taken by Jamie L

Fear: dying alone,being hated,failing

Personality: he's a calm sweet person he's very smart and also really kind. He's a good caring friend. However he can be a troll sometimes and mess around with everyone because he loves doing it. He loves his fans so much. He's a shy boy.

Interest: he loves to write,draw,edit,take photos, record videos,run his YouTube channel,create a mini sketch video to post on his channel, being a director,he loves cats and reading books.

Ricky fave bands is: muse,HIM,afi,slipknot,BMTH,Ariana grande,Ellie goulding.

[IMG=NEP]

Name: Vinny Mauro

Full name: Vinchenzo Mauro

Nick name: vin,chenzo,sachetti

Nationality: Italian American

Age: 27

Birthday: Nov 22 1993

Birth place: jersey shore Pennsylvania

Zodiac: Sagittarius

(he's also a Sagittarius Scorpio cusp)

Height: 5'6

Uni: vinny study computer programming but he dropped out of college to join the band in 2014

Role: drummer

Bands: MIW,suffer club,trap demon

Relationship Status: single

Fear: being hated by people

Personality: in most of Ricky vlogs vinny seem extroverted he is loud around friends and has lots of fun being silly. But in reality there is a side to him that isn't easy to see you can see it in his twitch stream. He's actually really introverted he said this himself. He's calming and sweet he interact with fans a lot and making sure fans respect each other. He loves to be alone in his room for many days avoiding human contact. Vinny mention being too shy to go up to new people but he is fine if people go up to him. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to new people. He likes being alone.

Interest: creating rap beats,playing video games,making music,dogs and cats,playing drums.

Vinny fave artist are: Fall out boy,paramore,korn,panic! At the disco,HIM,my chemical romance,arch enemy,maroon 5,emeiem,Ariana grande,dua lipa,Mack millo,doji cat,bring me the horizon,pierce the veil,sleeping with sirens,all time low,black veil brides,Rihanna,linkin park,green day,evanescences.

[IMG=XHH]

Name: Ryan Sitkowski

Age: 30

Birthday: Jan 8,1991

Zodiac: Capricorn

Birth place: Pennsylvania

Height: 5'11?

Uni: he dropped out of college to join MIW

Role: lead guitarist

Relationship Status: taken

Fear: spiders

Personality: Ryan is a chill person he's shy and caring to fans. He's also a troll he loves to mess around with his friends.

Interest: guitar,video games,trading card games.

Bands: the same as the rest of miw probably.

[IMG=QFE]

Name: Justin morrow

Age: 32?

Birthday: May 11th

Birth place: Caledonia, New York

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 6'1

Role: bassist

Relationship Status: married

Fear: ?

Personality: Justin is a kind chill person who cares for his fans and his friends. He left ice nine kills to right away help MIW on tour. Justin is also a troll he loves trolling his friends.

Interest: videos games but not a nerd like the others,bass,cosplaying,putting makeup on.

Bands: the same as MIW

Motionless in white history:

The band started in high school of 2005

Chris,Angelo,Frank p,Kyle white being the first members of the band. Later after college and the bands demo releases Josh joined the band. Frank moved to bass. Micheal and TJ join as guitarist. Later on micheal left the band and Chris met Ryan. Ryan then joined as guitarist of the band. Chris met Ricky in 2009. Frank left the band and Ricky was the new bassist for MIW.

MIW got more popular in 2009 when they tour around the state's in a van. Tj left the band a year later to join escape the fate (Ronnie radke of falling in reverse old band and bless the fall singer Craig band) Ricky then became the new rythmn guitarist of the band. Ghost (Devin) join as the bass player of the band. During the infamous album creation Angelo was feeling ill he couldn't play drums well anymore he gets tired easily and his drum skills wasn't good at all he was eating bad that it make him weak. He couldn't drum anymore so he left the band. The band had other drummers help record their albums. Brandon was the touring drummer for the band till the end of the reincarnated album. The band met vinny and he became the new drummer he was in the reincarnated music video playing drums but you can't see him much in the music video. Vinny then became a member of MIW not a tour drummer anymore but a actually member of MIW. Josh left the band around this time. In the graveyard shift era after the making of the album the whole band kicked ghost out of the band because the fans told the band what ghost did to fans which was very gross. The band kicked him out and Justin from ice nine kills join the band as bassist then he quit ice nine kills to be working full time for MIW. Disguise is the first album where the whole current members of the band created songs without other people doing it for them.

Chris history from high school to now:

Chris grew up in Pennsylvania. He met his friends who end up being the band members of the band he wanted to create he wasn't expecting to be the main singer. At a young age Chris started getting tattoos everywhere.

Chris cared about the band and just went for it.

Demos of the band was created. Chris is a perfectionist he wants the album to be perfect so he was judging everything in order to make a album he liked. Band members left but he didn't quit the band he try to find new band members and try to meet new bands. He worked hard for the band he carry the whole band and make sure the band was doing well. Chris thanks Ryan and Ricky for being the most loyal band members staying with him all these years and not leaving him. Chris had the fear of failing the band breaking up and Chris dreams crushing down but Chris didn't let that happen at all. And here we are today.

Ryan Sitkowski college to now:

Ryan dropped out of college to join MIW at age 17. He was new to the band and Josh didn't like him at all. Ryan was at a young age traveling all over the state with the band. Ryan haven't shared much of his life on the internet he kept it more private. Ryan got a girlfriend and then when the lockdown happen he started streaming on twitch to interact with fans and made a discord too.

Ricky Olson high school to now:

Ricky is the oldest of his siblings. When Ricky was young he was playing with his friends sports and something hit his tooth so half of Ricky teeth is fake. He mention he cry to his mom on the phone because of it. Ricky in middle school wanted to be in a band because his friends played instruments and he wanted to join them. Ricky in high school was a shy boy who had a few friends but they were mostly fake friends. Ricky Olson begin to play guitar and write stories because of the inspiration of Ville Valo from HIM. He became obsessed with HIM. Ricky was in a band in high school as the lead singer but was kicked out for sounding like Ville valo. One of Ricky dreams was to be in a band and also a film maker. In college he study film production. While also working in band merch booth selling band merch to people. But since Ricky was too shy he got yelled at for not speaking up and selling more. Ricky was in a bad time around 2008 and 2009. He share this in a blog years ago about this. He was in a lost place had a bad past and he was thinking of the past all the time and future worrying about failing the future he wanted to be in a band but he was so lost he had no idea what to do in his life. He would day dream about being in a band and then cry to sleep every night about his life. He had depression and gave up with everything in his life. He drank achoul every day. One day on his sister 16 birthday Ricky was drunk coming home from work to go to his parents house his sister was sleeping in her bed.

Tw// self harm and suicide attempt:

Ricky was laying in his sister's bed he cut his arm with a knife it was a lot Ricky was sobbing while watching the blood going down his arm to the floor his dad saw what happen and ask Ricky what happen. Ricky was sobbing and yelling he wanted to die many times. He passed out and went to the hospital he lost a lot of blood and the achoul level was really high he drank way too much. He almost died. He end up getting better and went to see a therapist. He went to see MIW with a friend. Ricky met Chris and the band thought Ricky was cool so he invited them to stay at his house. Chris text Ricky being like should join our band. Ricky would often say idk if I should he didn't know if he would be good enough for the band.

He later on join and quit college but Ricky mention still feeling depressed while in the band. Josh ballaz disliked Ricky when he joined too. 2 years later Ricky moved to rythmn guitarist but he wasn't used to playing guitar since he mostly did bass so he often made mistakes on guitar. He was still learning to play guitar. Things got better for Ricky. But his dream job was always filming he does some film stuff on tour and at home. Though he knew he probably won't be a film maker for movies like he dream of doing he makes whatever he can make. Ricky has stomach problems he often went to the doctor because of it.

Vinny Mauro childhood to now:

Vinny is one of the youngest children of his family. He has many siblings. Vinny mention on stream that he had a bad past. He mention that his dad would take achoul all the time and not give a fuck about vinny. Vinny mom would always go after Vinny. Vinny as a kid was a trouble maker he would disobey his parents and think it was funny. His mom would throw stuff at him and threaten him. His dad gave him a drum set so vinny end up learning to play drums he self taught himself to play drums. He listen to music and got into new types of music he likes all types of music. In middle school a girl that he liked asked him if he can play paramore on drums and vinny played it for her.

In high school vinny was a outcast and loner he made friends in his neighborhood but at school he had no friend. He didn't fit in with anyone. He mention in Ricky Olson podcast his high school life. Ricky ask him how he didn't find friends in high school. Vinny mention saying he didn't fit in with anyone he is also a shy person so he doesn't go up to new people. He was more a loner and was fine with it. Vinny went to uni to study computer programming but he didn't like it at all he was often bored he posted videos of him drumming on his YouTube channel. He knew a guy who knew MIW. MIW was looking for a drummer and they asked vinny to try out for drums in another country which was Australia. Vinny dropped out of college and told his parents what he was doing they weren't happy about that but he end up going over there trying out drums but he was very nervous. He met the band and then went to start drumming. Chris and Ricky were in the same room as vinny they were watching him play drums. Chris being very judgemental. He often scares Ricky when he's on guitar and Ricky fear to make a single mistake in front of Chris and vinny felt that fear. He even said I think I mess up a few times on drums. After he finish drumming. Ricky and Chris went to talk said not a single word and vinny was sweating so much thinking he made a mistake and he won't be part of the band. Later on Chris made vinny part of the band. Vinny became the tour member of the band then he became a member of MIW.

Years later vinny decided to interact more with fans since he had time to so he livestreams on twitch and has discord to interact with fans.

The lock down happen and vinny spend time interacting with fans. He lives with his friend in a house together. But something about vinny these few years mostly months to now that was starting to show. Vinny was suddenly showing signs of depression he often tweet depressing stuff but each year got worst for him. 2020 was the start of vinny's down fall. He had so much self hate he hated his hair,his body,his looks everything about himself he hate. He even tweeted saying I'm sad so I'm going to make a song. He release alone. Even he tweeted about something sad saying 2020 was a bad start for him and Ricky ask if he was ok and hoping vinny was just joking around. During December vinny had back pains because of a sneeze that hurt his nerves so vinny was in so much pain and he didn't see a doctor he thought he could fight it himself just taking pain meds to him. In Jan of 2021 the start of vinny down hill. He was in so much pain he couldn't leave his room or chair he couldn't even drum. He was very depressed. He hated life so much. A month later he got better and went back to streaming but still he was struggling there was some bad stuff happening anyway with him. The covid shot made him sick Saying he didnt eat anything for 4 days he felt like throwing up he even woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was going to do it and other stuff that made him depressed. Around April of this year small amount of fans notice something was going on with vinny he mention so much self hate about himself. In May he mention he was fine but a week later he said he was depressed and talking about what happen months ago and years ago. Sharing something about his family past and he stopped himself saying he doesn't want to get too into it. Vinny mention that he was eating food once a day because he felt like he is fat for over eating food all the time so he end up just eating dinner only everyday. He done it since the beginning of March and still is doing it. He wanted to loss weight. So he doesn't want breakfast and lunch but he eats dinner.

Around may vinny was in rock bottom he talk to no one at all even Ryan was 30 mins away from vinny and he ask him why he didn't go to see him and vinny said he didn't know why. Vinny mention saying he talked to no one for a week straight he also mention he isn't the kind of person to go up to people he said he's very introverted. he stopped streaming for weeks because he was doing bad. He said he felt burnt out and tired.

He took his break off social media for many weeks. Around this time many fans notice vinny was really not doing well.

Then he return to streaming around the 18th of June. Just to say hi he said he miss his fans but he plans to stream again a few weeks later. He mention that he have been avoiding all human contact and was staying in his room playing video games and drums all day still with the once a meal thing he does. Vinny said he's not depressed but people ask him about his depressing tweets and he said is it really depressing. Someone ask him why he is listening to sad music and he said am I not allowed to enjoy music. Now more fans are worried about him. Many more fans noticing that vinny isn't ok and he's hiding it.

That's basically all of MIW history I could give.

I will update and add more to the list later when something new happens. The vinny stuff is true I been watching his streams a lot and he mention those stuff so I just wanted to share what he said. I been a MIW fan for 8 months so I may not know Ryan and Justin as much as the others. Since they don't share much about themselves.

Hoping you enjoy this. Free feel to comment somethings I forgot to add.

Please don't argue about ghost ok. Ty

[thenickelportrust]

Scene Practice 2

The second of my scene practices! This one is experimenting a bit more with Ricky as he starts to question his sexuality with a non-female MC.

Specifically, in the space between a friendship and a relationship, where everything is in a bit of a grey area already!

This one is less of a specific scene-that-will-appear-in-game and is more of my practicing the idea and vibes of that time in the MC and his relationship!

Enjoy!

_______

“Okay, so I’m here.” You fold your arms across your chest, staring across the dark wooden desk to the man who, despite being the one who asked you here, keeps his blue eyes trained on the paper in front of him.

Ricky Dempsey doesn’t move to talk at first, which is the whole reason you spoke up first, but fine. With a sigh, you pull out one of the chairs from across his desk and plop yourself down into it.

Well, if you’re going to be bored…

“Guess you asked me here just to stare at your pretty face then?”

… You might as well try to find a way to entertain yourself. And entertained you are. It’s taken quite a while to figure out what makes the stiff-upper-lipped politician tick, and to be entirely frank you’re still not entirely sure what it is that gets a reaction from him… But you’ve gotten better at it. At least, you’ve gotten better at eliciting more than a sharp glare and the whip-like snap of his silver tongue, so quick on the trigger to insult. Sometimes, although this is a rare sometimes, but still, sometimes, you’ve even gotten him to blush.

Small triumphs.

Small triumphs that you’re not privy to now, as despite your not-quite-best efforts Ricky Dempsey turns away from his papers to pass you his usual narrow-eyed glare. “Are you truly that incapable of sitting there patiently for a mere moment?”

“Yeah, I am.” You grin in the face of his minor irritation. It’s more than a shit-eating grin, and it’s one that Ricky meets with a sigh and, miracle of miracles, places his pen to the side. Victory achieved!

“So,” You drawl, rubbing your hands together as you sit forward on your chair, “What’s up? Why’d you ask me here anyway?”

He remains silent-- victory substantially less achieved-- but he’s still looking at you, not the papers. Victory partially achieved?

Ricky stares at you for a long while, long enough that it even starts to make you uncomfortable. You can’t read his expression, and you’re not even sure he’s trying to read yours. Hell, you’re not sure he’s even really looking at you. He’s more just… looking in your direction. But he’s not spaced out, his gaze is as sharp and attentive as ever. He’s just… thinking. “You, uh, okay…?”

He blinks, and Ricky reaches for his pen for a moment, before his hand pauses, halfway between himself and the pen, and slowly falls back to his side. “Yes. I am fine.”

“You sure? You seem a bit… unusual.”

“Unusual?” He repeats, his chair turning slightly to the side as his head swivels with it, looking out the back window to his view. The corporate heart of Nickelport. You see smoke in the distance, a small stream of it, and something in the back of your mind-- the Rust instinct drilled into you over your four years of working for them-- thinks that there must be a fight going on. One just starting. It thinks that maybe you should be there to see it.

Living in Nickelport, and working for the Rust, it must have worn down your survival instinct.

“Yeah.” You force your gaze back to the politician’s profile. His jaw is set tight, his eyes locked somewhere unspecific on the horizon, maybe he’s looking at the smoke too. What’s his instinctual reaction to it? It’s probably different from yours. Probably. “Unusual.”

“I wasn’t aware unusual was a state of being. Perhaps unsure, or unlike myself, but unusual is more of a personality descriptor, or perhaps a physical description, I’m not so sure one could go from usual to unusual. You could also say I am unusually something, but you didn’t,” He turns his chair back around to you now, “At least, you would most likely have to say unlike my usual self, which I’m sure is what you meant to imply, but it is not what you said.”

“Yeah well then you’re being unusually deflective, and an ass at the same time, but that’s usual for you.” Still grinning.

Ricky doesn’t smile. “I have a request for you.”

Ah, and there was the meat of the meeting. “Oh? What’s up?”

“I…” He trails off, his gaze breaking, looking down, looking away and-- the tips of his ears seem red? Is he… blushing? But you haven’t said or done anything to make him flush and…

You lean forward, concerned, and reach for his hand, “Hey, Ricky, what’s wrong?”

His hand, which snaps back the moment your fingers make contact, “Nothing is wrong, do not assume.”

“I’m inferring, cause like we’ve established, this really isn’t like you.” Your voice is gentle now, sincere, and sincerely concerned.

Ricky Dempsey holds his hand as if it had been burned, unable to look you in the eyes. “I…” he swallows heavily, “I have a request.”

“Right,” You nod along slowly, “What do you need?”

“I need nothing,” He corrects, ever so specific.

“Fine, then what do you want?”

Somehow, that word seems worse to him, and again Ricky falls to one of his prolonged silences. It’s only broken by a small curse leaving his lips as he drags a hand up and through his hair. “I’d… my request is that, should you be willing, that you… kiss me.”

Now it’s your turn to blink, “What?”

The red on his ears begins to creep slowly towards his cheeks, “Is that such an unreasonable request?”

You don’t respond, your brain is still processing what Ricky “I reject any offer of friendship even if it's so much as implied” Dempsey has just asked you to kiss him. “What?”

The red has claimed his nose now, too, and is starting it’s charge down his neck, too. He grabs his pen with the violence of a knight drawing a sword to go into battle. “Nevermind.”

Your hand instinctively snaps out, grabbing his wrist before he can drown his mind in the distraction of his work. “I--” Your brain starts to catch up to the present again, slowly resetting, “I’m sorry-- but-- really-- what? Why?”

He doesn’t pull away this time, but his skin is burning under your palm, and he still won’t look you in the eyes. “Do I need a reason?”

“I mean it’d help, yeah.”

Ricky clears his throat again, squeezing the pen. “I… have been… having… thoughts… or-- no-- that doesn’t sound…” He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, stopping, and falling slowly as he exhales in a measured count. “Recently, I have been questioning some… assumptions I have made about myself. I have also been questioning… assumptions I’ve made about our… interactions. And my… interpretations of them. So, I thought, perhaps, when it comes to a hypothesis as… otherwise unfounded as the one I’ve been coming to-- to see, well, perhaps, a bit of experimentation was not-- is not… unwarranted.”

You try to translate from his work-around words to something more logical. “Ricky, do you have feelings for me?”

He jolts in his chair, finally pulling his hand away. “My entire life--” He answers lamely, softly, “My entire life I have believed myself to be one thing. I have not-- every person I have been with has been-- I have not ever questioned whether or not certain truths of  myself were not so true after all. It is not an… easy revelation to come to. Please do not ask me anything else. If you are incapable or unwilling of fulfilling my request then that is fine. I apologize for taking up your time.”

He’s apologizing. For Ricky, that is never a good sign.

“Hey,” You try to keep your voice gentle again, “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, and-- I mean-- I can’t say I’d be unwilling,”

He looks up, a small spark in the back of his blue eyes. But you hold up a hand,

“But,” You add on, “You don’t seem like you’re wholly on board with it yourself, yeah? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem very comfortable right now.”

His lips press tightly together, a small, hesitant nod bobbing his chin.

You smile, not your shit-eating grin but something small, “Hey, that’s okay. And it’s okay to be questioning, too, it’s not a bad thing.” You reach out, but stop halfway. Ricky seems to pull his hand back, so you pull yours back, too, and let it lie in your lap instead. “Take some time, okay? If you wanna ask me again, when you’re really comfortable with the idea, I’ll be here. Until then, no rush, yeah?”

Another silent nod, some of the red has drained from his face. Strands of his hair have fallen unnoticed onto his forehead, Normally, he would never have let even a single thing out of place-- not even a wrinkle on his suit or a hair from his head. But now the put-together Ricky Dempsey seems to be… shaken. And you lean back in your chair, “Do you wanna grab something to eat, instead?”

He looks up at you, meeting your gaze once again, finally, and that lets you see just how unsteady in his own skin he is right now. “Eat…?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m here, I haven’t had lunch, I’d put money on the idea that you haven’t, either,” And you don’t want to push the subject right now. “I’ve been trying to try this cool-lookin’ Thai place around the corner but it’s way out of my budget. But lucky for me I have this rich politician friend who, yknow, could out of the kindness buried deep, deep, deep--”

He sighs, settling back into himself as he brushes his hair back into place and rolls his eyes, “Of course. I should have expected you to have an ulterior motive.”

“You know me.” Back to your grin, back to normalcy as he finds his feet and stands once again.

“Very well,” Dempsey straightens his tie, “But you owe me.”

You hop up as well, clapping your hands together. “Sounds great! Let’s get going then, I dunno about you but I’m starved.”

[nelllraiser]

no good deed | luce & nell

LOCATION: nell’s greenhouse. PARTIES: @divineluce​ and @nelllraiser​ SUMMARY: luce asks for nell’s herb supplies to help with her phoenix cleansing. absolutely NO emotional talk or introspection follows. CONTENT: discussion of the lydia plot without specifics, very brief and vague sibling death allusion.

Luce washed her hands in the sink, wincing as the hot water and soap stung the healing wounds. She glanced at herself in the mirror-- she looked like she’d been through hell. Deep purple bruises had blossomed across her skin, but most were covered by winding bandages she’d wrapped over the jagged cuts that ran along the back of her legs. Her back was a mess and it made sleeping a nightmare, but she couldn’t do much about it. A crooked butterfly bandage kept the cut over her eyebrow shut, and the wound was purple at the edges. She looked like shit and she felt it too. But, she couldn’t stop now.

Leaving the bathroom, Luce returned to her room and sat back down at the books she’d borrowed from Rio. The ash had been collected, a piece of the cursed earth for good measure too. The Bloodroot sat in a vase next to the window, the stems dying the water a light pink. Which left… tears, from a phoenix and cleansing herbs. The tears wouldn’t be too difficult-- Leah had said she’d help her with this, so she’d probably be alright parting with a few tears. The cleansing herbs though. Luce couldn’t pretend to know which ones were best suited to a ritual like this. Plants had never been her thing and she didn’t have the coven’s knowledge at her disposal anymore. But… there was someone else who might know. Taking the book with her, Luce made her way out to the greenhouse. And, as she suspected, Nell was there. 

Knocking lightly on the door, Luce spoke up, “Hey.” 

It was no surprise that Nell was puttering about her greenhouse after everything that had happened over the past week or so. In reality, it wasn’t all that much in comparison to the things she’d weathered before. The mad rush to save someone she loved, the devastating blow of losing that same person merely days later— though it hadn’t been in the way she’d anticipated. Frank hadn’t been the one to fell the curtain between Nell and Bex by stealing her life, it’d been Bex herself that had made the severance. The witch wasn’t trying to throw herself a pity party, it was simply that the only way she could think to keep her storming thoughts at bay was to create something, and to care for the plants she nurtured with a gentle hand. The greenhouse had always been a sanctuary of her’s, a place of peace that was her’s and only her’s where she could be alone with herself. She never needed to find the strength to draw her armor within its walls because she didn’t need it’s defenses between the fragile glass panels lining the perimeter. Here she was free to be happy, or hurt, or whatever else she might be feeling at the moment.

But with the sound of a soft knock that changed, and Nell rolled the softness from her shoulders as she went to the door, setting them into their usual and proud position. “Hey-” she began thoughtlessly when she heard the sound of her sister’s voice. A moment later shock was flitting over her face, brows drawn together with concern as she took in the ugly picture Luce made with her collection of injuries. “Luce- what the fuck. What happened? What the hell is wrong with you? I could have closed whatever cuts you have instead of whatever shoddy job you made of your legs,” she chastised while she took in her sister’s bandages. 

A grimace spread across Luce’s face as Nell stared at her, face shifting to an expression of surprise. Maybe she should have put on a jacket or something. Heatstroke would be preferable to getting a lecture. “Slipped and fell on a hike.” Luce said. It wasn’t entirely untrue. She’d been on a hike and she had fallen. Nell didn’t need to know that Morgan had helped with the fall. That Morgan had shoved her down, that she’d thought the other woman was going to kill her. “Yeah, you know me. I’m shit with first-aid.” She said offhandedly, glancing down at the haphazardly wound bandages. “It’s fine, though, I’ll be fine with some time.” Moments like this reminded her of how lucky she’d been all her life-- their mother had always been an option, even if they didn’t necessarily want her help. Now? Mixed messages aside, Luce was never stepping foot in her parents’ home again, not if she could help it. She didn’t need her mother’s help. She didn’t need her pity either. “I’ve got a question for you,” She held up the leather bound book and flipped it open to the page she’d been staring at. “Do you have any idea about what sort of herbs would be used for this sort of thing?”

Nell fixed Luce with a scrutinizing look, arms crossed over her chest as she decided whether or not she wanted to fight her sister on the lackluster answer she’d given. But for once in her life she decided that she was simply too tired, and Luce could give her the answer in due time. Nevertheless, that wouldn’t stop her from mildly calling the fire witch out. “Right. Slipped and fell.” Another disapproving glance flitted over her face before her chastisement continued. “Yeah, but you live with someone who has an entire greenhouse of healing herbs. I’m literally just upstairs in case you forgot. I could have at least scabbed the shit over and lessened the amount of ‘time’ needed.” The mention of a question and the book being presented was enough to spark Nell’s interest, if only for the sole reason that it could provide a distraction from the pity party she’d been throwing herself, wondering how she’d so spectacularly failed at teaching Bex. She should have known. Just because she wasn’t the girl she’d been a year ago didn’t mean she was suddenly equipped to take in a baby witch with her newfound emotional maturity. For a long moment, Nell scanned over the text, lips pursing further the longer she read. “This is about the phoenix that Adam told me he was helping you with? Loved finding out about that from him and not you, by the way.” 

Luce wearily rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that shot across her forehead. “It’s a long story.” She said lamely. She knew that answer wouldn’t be enough for her sister, but hopefully it would do for now. Later. She’d tell her the details later. Right now, she needed to focus. She had the flowers, she had the ashes, she had the dirt. She just needed the herbs and then the hard part-- the phoenix. And the fire. She didn’t have any idea how she was going to get that whole situation figured out, but… she had to try something. Hopefully the ritual wouldn’t be too affected by a couple cans of gasoline. “I mean, no time like the present? Care to help a sister out?” Luce joked weakly.

At the mention of Adam and the phoenix, Luce blinked. Ah. Yeah, that made sense. They were dating, Adam was a decent guy. Of course he would have told Nell about the situation they had on their hands. “Sorry. I’ve been caught up in trying to figure out how to fix shit. Spent a lot more time in the scribrary than I wanted to. Rio-- Winston’s ex? He’s lending a hand with it. Hence the book.” She said, holding the book up again.

A long story. Nell was growing increasingly tired of the ‘long stories’ that seemed to make up the majority of her life since she’d returned to White Crest. How many ‘long stories’ could someone fit over the span of a year and a half, anyway? “I’m sure it is,” she mumbled lamely, once again proving herself to be uncharacteristically not nosy for the time being. Luce had meant her words to be joking, but Nell failed to continue in that vein, unable to find the energy needed for sarcasm in the moment. “Of course I’ll help you,” she said a little too seriously, clutching onto one of the only constants in her life now that she’d lost yet another person in the form of Bex. It was beginning to look as if the only people she’d always have in her life and at her side would be her sisters, and that was a gift she couldn't afford not to treasure. Leading Luce towards a nearby chair, she began to gather the healing poultices she’d made, the ones their mother had taught her. “So you need lavender and sage.” It wasn’t a question as she took another look over the book. “That’s easy enough.” Squinting at the last plant, she was already beginning to search her brain for what the words could mean. “And a white flowered herb?” Of course a ritual wouldn’t be complete without a sufficiently vague ingredient.

“You know I could have helped ‘figure out how to fix shit’.” Nell had failed at making sure Bex didn’t feel alone, she wouldn’t do the same for her sister. “You mean the guy you punched, and then refused to apologize to?” Perhaps she was still a little bitter about the argument she and Luce had following the happening. “Yeah, that makes sense that he’d help. He’s a good guy.” 

A wave of guilt washed over Luce at the defeated sound of her sister’s voice. Fuck. “It’s-- just don’t fucking… fly off the handle, alright?” She said before running a sloppily bandaged hand through her hair. She paused, not entirely surprised by how quickly Nell figured out what kind of purifying herbs they’d need. Sage and lavender. She should have known that. But she’d never paid attention to purifying rituals, she’d never really paid attention to the plants they used at the coven meetings. She’d just accepted the bundle of herbs and lit the ends, allowing the smoke to waft through the air and mingle with the combined power of the rest of the coven. How she’d taken it all for granted. “Cool, yeah. You’ve got that growing in here, right?” Luce said as she followed Nell to a chair, looking around at the greenhouse as she walked. She’d done enough lavender tattoos to be able to spot the tall sprigs of purple. But, she refocused on her sister and stared over at Nell. “The white flower-- it’s Bloodroot. It grows at Lyssa’s Peak and I needed the stuff that grew at the top. Lunar cycles, drawing power from the moonlight, you know.” She said. Rip the bandaid. Just tell her sister what happened. No more secrets.

“I went hiking up there to get to it the other day. And I ran into Morgan. She showed me a way up the mountain and we got to talking and I was in a… mood about shit. About… Lydia.” Luce said, wondering if Nell would understand why she was in a mood, if her sister would get just why the killing didn’t sit well with her. “And she kept trying to figure out what it was and I snapped at her. And then she snapped at me. Because she’d cared about Lydia. Even though she was a fucking…” Monster. Murderer. Torturer. “Even though she was what she was. Morgan lost her cool, I lost my footing, I took a tumble down the peak. But, it’s fine. She helped me down the mountain.” She didn’t need to. She could have kicked me off. She could have let the coyote finish me. She could have let me die up there. 

Swallowing, Luce blinked at her sister’s words. Yeah. Nell could have helped her. Bea probably could have helped her too. But, again, she’d felt like she’d needed to do this on her own. And where had that landed her? Right fucking here, with no magic to speak of and just struggling to make things work. “Sorry. Old habits. And I’ve said that before, and I’m sorry. I just-- fucking, it’s hard to remember that I don’t have to do everything alone.”

“Me? Fly off the handle? Where would you get an idea like that?” There was the sarcasm Nell had been missing before, but it was short lived as she unwrapped the bandages from Luce’s legs, her frown renewed while she took in the extent of the scrapes and cuts. “Yeah, of course I’ve got those growing. They’re pretty good staples. So the sage is obviously for cleansing…” That made sense, she supposed. They had to rid the phoenix of whatever it was that had made them this way. “And the lavender...it’s for healing.” Healing couldn't take place without the cleansing. After all, you had to clean the wound before it could properly heal. Otherwise you risked it becoming infected, a festering thing that wouldn’t even get a chance to scar, let alone fade. “Sure- the moon. It makes sense.” The great glowing woman in the sky was like butter to a witch’s bread, always ready and willing to lend her strength to those who sought it. 

But the mention of Lyssa’s Peak had Nell remembering her own time in the shadow of it, watching the yellow-eyed wolf and Layla attempting to murder Adam while she and Ariana did their best to prevent it. “Lydia?” That hadn’t been a name she expected to surface, and Nell hadn’t heard it since the brief conversation of guilt she and Luce had following her death. Besides, what did Morgan have to do with Lydia? The zombie had cared about the woman who kept innocent people in a basement? Nell wasn’t all that sure what to make of that— especially when paired with the recent revelation that Morgan had befriended Miriam as well. “Her losing her cool was related to you losing your footing or not?” There was a vagueness there that Nell wasn’t ready to let go of. Not when it concerned her sister, and her injuries. “You tumbled down the fucking peak,” Nell hissed, knowing that Luce was lucky to escape with her life, let alone her bones intact. 

Nell sighed, knowing it was hypocritical of her to call Luce out for refusing help while she was guilty of the very same. She knew accepting assistance wasn’t so easy as flipping a switch. “I know.” Apparently Nell was in a forgiving mood, too tired to fight in the wake of the heaviness the past few weeks had held. “Why are you helping the phoenix, though?” Nell knew her sister had a decent heart beneath her barb-like exterior, but she’d never much gone out of the way to help an utter stranger. “Obviously I’m glad someone is- I just didn’t expect it.”

Settling into the chair, Luce cast Nell a wan smile as she listened to her sister speak. As she unwound the bandages, Luce could see just how sloppy a job she’d done. Nothing looking infected-- she wasn’t that stupid, she’d done enough tattoo aftercare to know how to wash wounds-- but it didn’t look great either. The roses on her legs were bleeding red angry cuts, the backs of her knuckles were scratched and raw, and she knew her back looked fucked to hell. None of them seemed too serious though, so with enough time, they’d fade away. “Sage for cleansing and lavender for healing.” Luce repeated, wincing as one of the bandages pulled at scabbed skin. “Good to know.”

“Hey. What did I say about handles and flying off them?” Luce reminded her sister. She’d had a brief vision of what would happen if Morgan had let her die up there, if Morgan had shoved her just a bit too hard. And it was that endless cycle of blood and vengeance, one that she didn’t want Nell to continue. It didn’t matter that she was hurt, it really fucking didn’t. “I’m alive, aren’t I? Didn’t even break anything.” She said with another grin, though the motion made the cut over her eye sting.

Why are you helping the phoenix, though? Luce looked down at her hands. The million dollar question. Why. Why was she doing this? Why was she helping them? Because it was the right thing to do? That had never mattered much to her before. “I don’t know. Because I can. Because I should.” But even those weren’t quite right. She’d never been more powerless in her life, she didn’t possess the flames to be able to really help them. She didn’t need to help them, they were nothing to her. “I just… I don’t want more people to burn. You see the news?” She gestured to the night sky through the glass of the greenhouse. “There are fires sprouting all over the forest, burning shit, running animals off their land, threatening people. Adam called me to help him deal with the situation. And I know more about fire than almost anyone in this town.” Except Mom. And Dad. And probably Bea. “And fuck, I have to try and do something.” 

While Nell continued to work with Luce’s legs, she nodded in confirmation as her sister repeated the words. “Cleansing and healing- and lavender’s also about serenity, and the peace that comes about healing.” It was clear enough why these herbs had been chosen for a ritual such as this, used to drive out whatever had brought the phoenix to this point to begin with. Cleansing, healing, peace. It was a cycle she herself hadn’t yet mastered, not even sure whether she’d washed over the wounds of the past years. If Beltane was anything to judge by...Luce had taken better care of her spiritual wounds. But the problem with letting wounds heal was that you didn’t remember them as vividly once they were gone, no longer a thorn in your side as a reminder of how they’d come to be in the first place. Healed wounds could make for complacency, and make one forget to be cautious enough to avoid the same cuts and breaks a second time around. Her cuts made her stronger, more willing and ready to take care of the people she loved. More vigilant. Was it right to give that up?

A healthy eye roll later, and Nell was tugged from the stormy seas of her thoughts, all too ready to deny Luce’s words. “You know better than to think that’s flying off the handle,” she teased back. All three of them had more than healthy tempers, though all in their own ways. Nevertheless that didn’t stop them from burning bright and hot when the time called for it. Morgan losing her own temper was something of a surprise, but Nell knew Morgan would have never willingly hurt one of the Vurals— even in the case of Luce and her tendency to push away the kindest of people. Morgan was family as well, and she wouldn’t steal another sister from the Vurals. 

Lydia, the phoenix, Morgan, and not wanting to burn others paired with the fact that Nell was more than familiar with the expression on Luce’s face had the younger witch’s sneaking suspicion reaching a boiling point. She knew the look- had seen it and felt it enough in her own features to recognize it in a face that was half her own with their family resemblance. She let loose a long sigh, shoulders deflating while she finished working with Luce’s legs. “I’m glad you wanna help. And you’re obviously right about knowing fire. But it...doesn’t fix it. It won’t fix that way you feel inside about things that already happened.” Bringing food and caring for the families whose loved ones she stole with a rampant shark demon hadn’t fixed it. Hadn’t made it any easier. “I want you to help with the phoenix I just...don’t want you to be disappointed. If it doesn’t do what you think it’ll do when it’s all over.”

The peace that comes with healing. As thought such a thing existed. And maybe it did, but it wasn’t something that Luce was familiar with. But, had she ever really healed from the wounds that she’d suffered this last year? She didn’t know. Maybe this was part of the healing process too. The pain and the anguish and the guilt. Everyone thought of grief as just being sad and healing as just recovering from pain. When her grief had never just sadness-- it had been deep-seated rage and helplessness, frustration and guilt. And so was healing. “Sounds like it’s just what this person will need.” She said with a nod. “I don’t know how much I’ll need but I think a lot? The more we have, the more potent?”

Luce arched her good eyebrow at Nell, nonplussed by the eyeroll. “And that’s not what I’m talking about. Seriously, Nell. I’m okay.” She said, reaching out to grasp her sister’s hand, to squeeze it tight. Her hand was still hot against Nell’s skin, still burning with the flames that refused to listen to her call. She was still here. And she didn’t want Nell to go off and do something that might change that. 

Watching as Nell wound clean bandages over the wounds, freshly daubed with healing poultices, Luce reflected on how things had changed. A year ago, this would never have happened. A year ago, she would have licked her wounds back at the safe isolation of her cabin, maybe drowned her feelings away with more whiskey than she ought to have, and have pretended as though she was fine. But, she wasn’t pretending anymore. She was too tired to play those games, to pretend that the world was anything other than it was. But, as Nell’s words continued, Luce’s gaze snapped up, expression shifting. “What do you mean by that?” She asked abruptly. “I know that this doesn’t change anything I’ve done. And I’m not-- What do you think is going to happen? Nell, if this doesn’t work, I’m going to keep trying. I’m not letting this go.” I’m not letting them go.

Nell held Luce’s gaze for a long moment, feeling far too tired to actually address their shared trauma at the moment. They both knew what was on each other’s minds, and that was enough. She was so tired. They’d both been fighting for so long— all Nell had ever truly known how to do was fight. To refuse to give in, refuse to let the day win and simply allow herself a moment’s rest. She didn’t know who or what she would be without that fight, but occasionally she wondered what it was like for those who allowed themselves peace, whether they were truly happy with the battles they’d let lie, or if regrets haunted them as well. Maybe there was no actual winning. You just lived with the path you chose, and that was it. “Yep- sounds like just what the phoenix doctor ordered.” Not that she actually knew all that many details of the phoenix, but all anger stemmed from somewhere, and most often it was a product of hurt. “Sure, the more the merrier. It’s not really like you can over cleanse something when it comes to things like this.” 

The feel of Luce’s hand against her was enough to melt a little more tension from Nell’s shoulders, and the distant memory of crawling into bed with her sisters as children to hoard their shared elemental warmth was brought to mind while she let herself feel the momentary salve of nostalgia. “I know,” she assured softly. “I’m glad you are.” Her overprotectiveness wasn’t subtle, and Luce understood the source of it better than anyone in tandem with Bea.

Nell straightened from her place before Luce, standing as she began to rifle through the greenhouse towards her sage plants. “I just mean...I don’t know if this is what you’re thinking or whatever but- helping people isn’t gonna make the past sit right. Not really. And also...saving someone from something you think you’ve gone through isn’t gonna fix you either.” Hadn’t she just finished learning that with Bex? Or maybe they’d just been too different. Maybe the feeling of loneliness wasn’t as universal as Nell had thought, and she couldn’t fix her own by putting love into another person who was caught in the throes of it. “It’s not that I don’t think it’s gonna work, and I know you’ll keep trying. I just don’t want you to expect something of it that’s not gonna come.” 

Good to know that burning fuck tons of sage and lavender wasn’t going to create some kind of flower monster-- christ, Luce realized how fucking little she actually knew about magic outside of the flames. But, at least she had Nell here to help. Because she did, even if Luce didn’t often think about it that way. Her sisters were here. They were all here and, ever since they’d been excommunicated, they were all each other had to rely on. She had Nell, she had Bea, they were three and… in the past six months, she’d somehow forgotten about that. She’d drifted back to her old ways, of trying to handle things on her own. But she couldn’t now, it was impossible. She needed them, needed people. She couldn’t do this alone.

“Yeah. Same here.” Luce said, giving Nell’s hand another squeeze before slipping away, pulling the sloppy bandages from her hand to treat the wounds on her hands herself. The poultice stung a bit as she spread it over the open cuts. She kept her gaze trained on Nell as her sister moved away from her, aware of the distance that had just grown between them. “I’m not trying to make it sit right with me. And I’m not trying to fix me, either.” She said sharply. “I know that what I did was fucked. And maybe you don’t think it is, but I do and I’m making… some kinda peace with that.” She wound the bandages back around her hand, covering her raw skin once more.

Staring down at her hands, Luce could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the stress, maybe it was just the crushing weight of everything that she’d been going through that had finally pushed her to the breaking point. Luce cleared her throat. “I just want to do something good, Nellie. I want to be someone good again.” She said, though the words came out as broken and hollow as she felt.

“I didn’t say that,” Nell replied instintcively in a defensive tone, even if she thought Lydia was far better off dead from what she’d heard. Even though she’d shared her own surprisingly introspective conversation with the fae, there was no question of whether or not the woman was doing more harm than good in the world. But she knew Luce wasn’t as accustomed to life and death judgements as she was, not when she’d simply been an artist with a grumpy streak. She didn’t want her sister to become wrapped up in such things anyway, not when it most often led to a life of constant stress, or having a target on one’s back. “But if you want peace...then you deserve it,” she finished stubbornly, her tone not quite matching the well meaning nature of the words. 

The hardness in Nell’s voice was washed away instantly as she looked over her shoulder back to her sister, recognizing the picture of a person desperately trying to keep themselves together at the seams. Had Nell been so wrapped up in her own world that she’d completely missed what was going on with Luce? She’d known her sister’s fire wasn’t in the best of straits, and that in itself was a flashing red sign in the direction of emotional turmoil. But she hadn’t thought— hadn’t realized it had gotten to such a point as this. Had Nell been too wrapped up in her own troubles and world to see it? A flash of guilt spread through her chest, and she went back to the other side of the greenhouse, moving to check over the bandages Luce had wrapped around her hands.

I just want to do something good. Nell could understand that— when one got to the place of wondering if they’d gone past the point of no return, and grasped at straws for a win. Nell needed a win, too. The feeling of being unclean after going too far...she’d felt it herself on more than one occasion though it was less centered on the suffering of her victim, and more about the shockwaves her actions had set into motion. Adam with August. Jared with the Ring. Bex with Frank. Dave and the shark demon. She’d made more than enough mistakes to know the feeling of desperately wanting to look for the light in oneself no matter how dim it might be- to know that you weren’t just darkness and sharp blades, as much a monster as the thing you’d killed. “I understand.” If this is what Luce needed to face the days coming, Nell would do anything in her power to make sure her sister got what she needed, that she crossed the finish line with arms raised, and a peaceful expression on her face. “So if that’s what you need...then that’s what you’ll get.”

Luce continued to stare at her hands, remembering the way that the blue flames had spread from them to consume the flesh from Lydia’s body, burning away the sinew and skin until there was nothing left. “Sure you didn’t.” Luce said, tone neutral. “I’ve spent the last six months trying to rationalize shit like… she would have hurt other people if I hadn’t killed her, she would have come back to kill us. But there’s no way of knowing if that’s true because I made a call that took away any chance she had to change her ways. I decided that I knew better. And I’m not… that’s not okay. It’s not fucking okay.” She said.

When Nell took her hands again, Luce let her sister fix the bandages wordlessly. For a year, it had seemed like everything she’d done had fallen into the same cycle of anger and rage and pain-- sometimes on the receiving end of that punishment, other times delivering it to others by her own hands. The anger and rage would burn wild and out of control until everything was dead and charred to dust. And it would lie low for some time, before flaring back to life because someone else was hurt, someone else was hurting her-- and endless fucking cycle. She just wanted to be free of it all. This phoenix situation, it was something... different. It was something that she could do and know, without a trace of doubt, that she had done something good. She just wanted to prove to herself that she was still capable of that. Of being more than just an instrument of death, bringing fire and ruin to the world around her. She just wanted to do one good thing. “Thanks Nell.” Luce said quietly. “Really. Thank you.”  

Nell couldn’t rightly say she agreed with Luce— not when she’d been ready and poised to kill Frank in the middle of the Outskirts. He’d been a threat so she was going to eliminate him. It was as simple as that. Except it hadn’t turned out to be so simple as Bex had begged for his life, and Nell had withdrawn her knife. How many chances did people deserve when it came to changing? She’d given Kyle his chance in that basement with Morgan and Bex, even taken it upon herself to help him succeed. But Kyle wasn’t a woman keeping people in his basement. It was different...wasn’t it? “I didn’t know Lydia well enough to know whether or not she’d change.” That was the gamble you took with people, the not knowing. And there was always the chance they could change back if they decided their new route was too hard. Would Lydia have made a 180 turn back to where she’d started if she’d decided ethical eating wasn’t quite the same? What was the straw that would break the back of Miriam’s new life?

“I don’t know if it was wrong,” Nell finally admitted. “I don’t know if it being wrong would have kept me from doing it, too. Probably not. And I’d probably still do it if no one stopped me or you hadn’t already done it.” She was selfish with her wanting to protect the people she cared about. “But I...don’t think it’s fair to condemn yourself with it. Maybe rationalizing it isn’t the answer, but burning yourself at the stake isn’t either.” Nell swallowed briefly, still not all that accustomed to being so open and honest with her sister. “And...I think you deserve to forgive yourself instead of needing to use a phoenix to prove you’re worthy of it. I think you’re worth it on your own. Just because of who you are. I think you can be good without having something to point at as proof.” 

But it wasn’t about that. Not really. Why did Nell want to summon the murderous selkie to her? For control. To have just one thing she knew she could do right. “But I think I get it. Sometimes you just...need one thing to go right. Just to know that...that you’re not a fuck up who ruins everything they touch.” Nell didn’t have fire like he sister’s, but she’d always been just as destructive. “There’s one thing you can do, and not burn a hole through. So...we’ll make this work.”

“Neither did I. But Morgan seems to think that she could have. And maybe she’s right, maybe she’s not. But we’ll never really know.” Luce said wearily. She’d spent so many nights mulling over that exact question. “I don’t want to make those calls, Nell. I don’t want to hold someone’s life in my hand and decide that I’m worth more than them. Because that’s exactly what happened to us and I’m… I’m fucking tired of it.” This town, this fucking town. She’d grown up here, been a part of this world but only now had she really learned the price that White Crest demanded of the people who lived here. This town was steeped in blood and suffering and senseless death. She didn’t want to contribute to that anymore than she already had.

“Maybe.” Luce shrugged, before regretting the action as a fresh wave of pain ran down the wounds on her back. “I also think you have to say that as my sister.” She said, a ghost of her old sarcastic grin flitting across her face. Luce stood up from the chair, collecting the herbs that Nell had gathered for her. Sage and lavender. Healing and cleansing. And the promise of her sister to help her see this through. Side by side, they’d be able to move forward. Luce didn’t know how Nell was holding up with all the grief and trauma they’d experienced in the last year and she wished that she did. Once this was all over, once the dust settled and she could finally rest… She’d try harder to be there for her sister. For both of them. Maybe Nell said that she didn’t need to prove herself, but Luce couldn’t believe that. If she couldn’t be a good person, at the very least, she could be a good sister. 

Reaching out, Luce took hold of Nell’s hand again, looking at her sister intently. “We’ll make this work.” 

[paint-lady]

for the artist ask meme if thats okay. 6/7/9??

6. tag your favorite artists/inspirations!

I take inspiration and lessons from a variety of sources. Some I have met in person and studied with. Some I gaze longingly at their artbooks, aching for the opportunity to see them at a con. Some are long gone.

Heavy Inking Style: > Tim Bradstreet: known for his VTM drawings and black and white and grey drawings. I prefer bradstreets ink style and realistic detail to Lief Jone's more cartoony (but absolutely fitting) methodology. Below is one of my favorite pieces, and you see it all over the place for VTM things. I did my inktober challenges to teach myself his style. And I haven't regretted a single moment that I can utilize this technique.

Frank Cho and Sabine Rich Now. I use this artist more as a frame of reference of what not to do. However, there is technique. How Cho does his crosshatching to convey depth and form is wild to me. I have attempted this a few times and my results vary. Freehanding with ballpoint pens isn't easy. Keeping consistency with all your line work and weights BY HAND is harder. He tends to have a harsh outline to all of his comic book characters- which I find visually appealing. I borrowed his stylistic hatching and outlines in my work- and i really dig my version of it.

Sabine Rich is Cho's go to colorist. I find her soft shading a challenge to replicate, but ultimately it has aided my comic book style. I really like how she does shiny surfaces and how she utilizes blues/turquoises for highlights. Her ability to see shadows and highlights in plain lineart is really cool.

Comic Styles Inspiration:

MONSTRESS by Sana Takeda and Marjorie Liu

Yall. This comic is beautiful. I study this one for details and monsters, and watercolor style. It is absolutely breathtaking- every single page.

The Marked by David Hine, Brian Haberlin, and Gierrod Van Dyke

This one reminds me "less is more" in a very magical way and modern comic book style. The movement in each panels is always really compelling- even when the story isn't. There is a wonderful pacing their panel work enhances that some comics do not have.

I also take a lot of techniques from my scenic art studies and from the lord of the paint, Bob Ross. Work background to foreground and there are no mistakes, only happy accidents. I translate this to this:

The beauty about paint is if you mess up, you just go over it. The beauty about digital art is if you mess up, you press control z.

7. do you prefer sketching, outlining, or coloring?

Depends on the day and my mood and if Artemis has been given proper tribute. I really enjoy sketching, but sometimes the movement is not with me. I find coloring very relaxing, but a lot of times go back and change my colors because I don't like the way it looks when it has color. I like my line art to be crisp and clean, which counters my rough sketch style and paint techniques. So probably sketching.

9. what drawing program do you use? (if the artist does digital art)

I use a variety of programs. Mostly, I use Clip Studio Paint EX. I paid real people money for a Pro License and right now pay a monthly subscription for EX's publishing software. When work is more steady I will bite the bullet and fully upgrade. Clip Studio has a free version, with some severe limitations. I purchased the Pro license when they had a sale, reducing the cost to 60 USD. Absolutely worth it. The downsides to Clip Studio: It sometimes markets itself as Vector Software. IT! IS! NOT! Its vector capabilities are geared towards animation (iirc) and that differs from Logo design and text art. There is no need to purchase EX unless you are animating, creating webcomics (like me), or doing massive files (like me but thats just cuz im dumb and couldnt find the purge button).

Prior to CSPEX I used Autodesk Sketchbook. It is a much more basic software, but let you get decent resolution on BIG canvases. I recommend it to people who have tablets but find Photoshop overwhelming. I recommend it for people that want to do digital art on their phones but Photoshop and Clip Studio drain their battery.

I use Adobe Illustrator for text. Clip Studio's text editor is GARBAGE. It is slow, clunky, and has limited options to manipulate the text. I tend to use the program to create placeholder text and speech bubbles, but then do all the real editing in Illustrator.

[ramble-writes]

So... Today is my Frank's birthday. Yes it is May 1st deal with it. BUT, here we are again with MORE of the Frank Brothers! I told myself I was gonna do this cuz it would be nice and I'm finding myself liking this AU. So James belongs to (again~) @franks-mixtape! As for the Julie (same one from the previous one) that one belongs to my bf. So.. Happy Birthday to my boy, big ol’ boofer you are. And Luke I tried to make sure I still got a mellow raven tone right cuz hi I haven’t been writing in a while.

NOTE!!!! This would take place after the valentine’s fic. So meaning that Fenik and James met in 1995 which carried onto 1996 (year in-game legion disappeared). As for the first wolf bros fic, that one was like.. an in the middle thing. So yeah.

Warning(s): cursing, teenager stuff lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

-

Due to a teacher, the pack of Fairview knew about one of Frank's birthdays. On January 18th on a Thursday, the teacher for physics during roll call had briefly announced it when he called out James’s name. This information was quick to be relayed, since Joey was there in the class to hear Julie, Susie, and the other Frank, Fenik as his middle name goes.

Good on Fenik’s part for having a free period since he was quick to leave the school and hurried off to see about something simple to get his brother. Though... Any sort of gift or a word of cheer was met with hostility and retaliation. Of course, this worried the hell out of the three. Fenik only knew about what really happened and as to why his brother hated his own birthday a few days later when the raven-haired teen came stumbling to his brother’s home drunk off his ass and told the whole story.

Damn near broke the russet-haired Morrison’s heart at it...

Fast-forward to March. It was something about after valentine’s that Julie wondered about Fenik’s birthday, and had brought up this thought to his brother, Joey, and Susie. James was quick to be against it and said to drop it with a snap. He may not know what horrors his other half went through, but Fenik’s been the wolf the longest and had yet to ever snap. And he didn’t want to risk that. The last thing he honestly wanted (but never admitted) was for there to be a fight and for any of them to be hurt or worse, killed.

Of course, it brought on determination to mix with curiosity. Which was a bad mix when it comes to Julie since she went over to the russet-haired teen's foster home. Her last class was a free period, so it made it easy to get up and leave without really sticking around. Since it's most likely the couple has his papers upon fostering, it would have his date of birth on it.

"So... He's a May baby?"

"That's right. And on the first, no less," Audrey responded with a nod. A look crossed her face, then the woman turned to look at the young girl. "Do you think he wants to do anything for his birthday? With what he's been through, I think it would be nice."

Julie casted her eyes to the side, brown orbs focusing on a cross country trophy with a figure in a running position with the words '2nd Place: Fairview' engraved at the bottom.

"His brother says it would be a bad idea to do anything after what happened on his birthday."

"You mean, the other Frank? His half brother?"

"Mhm. He doesn't know what would happen if we do something for him. Though, I do agree since raven head threw a big fit on his birthday. Frank knows what happened, but hasn't told us."

Audrey nodded in understanding. Seeing as the two have the same father, of course, they would confide in each other. She does remember back in January that night when she went to check on the (unknowingly) wolf, that she saw the two in Fenik's bed. Amber eyes had looked over with a gesture for her to be silent. From what she could see of the passed-out teenager, was that he smelt of alcohol and just barely could see cheeks stained with tears.

"Then... How about a gift?"

That made Julie think. She wouldn't really know what he would want seeing as there's quite a bit he keeps to himself and or only shares with James. So she just shrugged. At least they have till May to think it over.

-

May 1st was only about a week away. The pack had about a full month to plan on what to do. Even though it was on a Wednesday, the weekend could be used up for the group. Despite his best efforts with telling them it's a bad idea, James caved and (reluctantly) agreed to help out to see what things caught his brother's eye.

So far, nothing. But, the raven-haired 19-year-old, on his first hunt, noticed something about the russet-haired teen. It was after they took down a moose, how Fenik managed to detach the head with a snap of the spine and the sickening ripping sound of flesh and muscles. James had... no idea how much blood was truly on the both of them till Fenik shifted back.

Blood covered his mouth and chin, running down his neck to his shirt under his jacket. And his hands were *drenched* from biting and attacking the moose. Back to the point, the black pelted wolf watched how the skin on the head was cut off with a knife the other had stowed away. It clicked that way. Bones/Skulls were of his interest with how he was careful with it and set it up against a tree.

"Whatcha doin' there fuzz butt?"

"Ideas are needed. Plus, gotta draw out your first hunting band! You're a Morrison, brother. And, maybe, if you'd like. A new skull. I'm thinkin' flesh hanging off the antlers."

"That's... bitchin. But, for another day. I'm cool with the band."

Fenik nodded, then finished what he was doing before shifting back and headed back over to his brother. It did surprise James when the rust-colored wolf took a big ol' bite out of the carcass and *swallowed* it down. He decided not to make a comment and tried it out himself. Weird how as a wolf the taste of raw meats doesn't taste so bad.

-

Since the days have gotten warmer with summer coming, clothes were lighter so no one overheated. At lunch, it was clear to the others how relaxed Fenik looked, not minding when his soon-to-be teammates from track & field would come over and pat him on the back to wish him a happy 19th and some even gave him 10 or 5 bucks (10 = about 8. 5 = about 4). He didn't mind *that* part one bit.

When school was out, the pack stood outside the steps as per usual. Well, except Joey till he did hop down the steps with a pretty big grin on his face. This made the two Morrisons and Julie look over with a raised brow.

"Somethin' up, Joe?"

"Yup! So, ya know how you told us you and raven head here went on his first hunt, yeah?"

Fenik nodded slowly, suspicious of what the tallest of their group was going on about. He heard his brother sigh in his head and go on about how he tried to tell them not to. "Yeaaaah?"

"And ya got all those tattoos n such, right?"

"Joey... What did you do."

The 18-year-old smiled and took off his backpack. Opening it, he withdrew a bag (that he most likely stashed in his locker) and handed it over. The russet-haired teen blinked as he took it, peaking in with amber eyes. Reaching in, he withdrew a box no bigger than the length of his forearm.

"A stick n poke?"

"Yeah! Well, we know that you do pretty well in art and that from some of the stuff you've shown us, you do all those dots that create really cool images."

"Stipple. That's what the media is called."

"Yeah, th-"

"JOEY YOU DIDN'T WAIT FOR ME!"

Susie came running down the steps with what looks like a book in her hand that she's waving about. Turns out the book was a sketchbook. At first, there was a slow build of concern and worry with how quiet he is, that is till they all felt a wave of sadness mixed with happiness. Hearing Fenik sniffle with a smile on his face was something.

"Sorry ah... I've.. never really celebrated my birthday. Always thought of it as bad since I was put in the system a day before my birthday. And.. all the others after that in every home, they just took the extra money I was supposed to get every May."

He ended it by muttering how the families thought it was bonus money. There were shared looks at that. Put in the system before turning 8. Ouch... James then leaned onto his brother's side, feeling him lean back. He isn't good with words, but as they say, actions speak louder than words.

After that exchange was done, the five all went home. Even after that day, Fenik was a bit snide on the fact that the other two didn't really get him anything. But, maybe Joey just had a higher knowledge? Though that didn't seem right, James did know about it as well.

The silence that followed didn't make any sense till Friday.

When the russet-haired teen got home, he was confused. One moment James hurried off to his house, then the next moment he was at the door of his house with his backpack.

"Bro, what the hell are you doin?"

"Waiting on you, and the others."

"Others?"

James just motioned for him to open the door, when he did, his parents were there waiting with bags of what he could tell is camping gear.

"Uh... What is going on?"

Mitch looked up upon hearing the teen and stood there proudly with a smile on his face as he gestured to the two big bags that hold two separate tents, rolled up sleeping bags, bags that probably have food and blankets, and other things.

"When was the last time you've been camping?"

"Uh... Six years ago? I think? Why?"

"We thought it would be nice to go down to the lake. Minnewanka to be exact," Audrey exclaimed with a smile. James let out a snort of a laugh from behind at the name, which the woman ignored before turning her attention to the people that walked up to the door.

"And we thought it would be nice to bring your friends and your brother! That's why they have their bags for the weekend."

Fenik turned his head to look over his shoulder to see Susie, Joey, and Julie there with what were their backpacks that were once full of school supplies, but now hold clothing. It took a moment for him to put the pieces together and his eyes widened.

"Wait, is this for my birthday?"

The six people in the room all smiled with nods of their heads. This made him get excited and rushed over to the stairs and his steps thundered as he ran up to his room. The raven-haired teen went up after the silence that followed after his other half left, wanting to avoid the awkward standing without knowing what to say.

-

The trip was long, but the weather made up for it. Susie, Joey, and Julie were in the backseat, mainly because the brothers insisted since they wanna sit in the truck bed. Honestly, the happiness that radiated from both was astounding considering the many shit foster homes they had.

It was Fenik who insisted that they howl out along the ride, mainly to be idiots in his excitement but, as far as he knows James probably hasn't tried to before. The sound though, was loud when conjoined from the two. Joey ended up sticking his head out to do it as well, Susie had turned down her hearing aid to make it easier to join in from her head coming out of the back window. Julie just chuckled with a roll of her eyes with Mitch and Audrey.

Upon getting there, a spot was reserved for them marked in outdoor safe spray paint. What was odd was how it was marked F.J. Fenik looked to the two adults, assuming it was a way to mark as him and Julie, that was till they looked at James with worried yet hopefully glances.

"We thought it would be nice to celebrate both your birthdays. From when I last saw you, James. You passed out in your brother's arms and looked like you've been crying."

There was a visible flinch from the raven-haired teen at that. He did remember getting drunk and stumbling to the other's home. He couldn't remember all that he said in his drunken stupor, but he did remember that he mentioned why he hates his own birthday. It clicked in his head right there and he stared at the two adults before muttering a low: "Why..."

"We may not know the reason why, and we know we were told to not do anything for you in the future but..."

"What the old bag is trying to say is, why not knock out two birds with one stone in the best way possible. At least y'all can go out and let all the crazies inside, out."

Green eyes sought out to hopefully lock with amber eyes, and they did, but it felt like there was a gentle coax in James's mind.

*'Ya might as well go with it. They ain't easy with "no" for an answer. But, they mean well. Honest.'*

The 19-year-old looked back at the two adults who were scolding each other from Mitch calling Audrey an 'old bag.' Looking down to the marker, he toed at it before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. But just this once. No more shit after it," He concluded. That caught the two's attention, but they nodded in understanding. For the rest of the time till dinner, they set up the two tents. One for the adults, the other for the teenagers. It was nice that a grill was there since hamburgers, salmon, and what other things they brought in cans were cooked.

It was Susie who declared that any gifts that were brought were to be given. She ended up giving Fenik a scarf she made, an infinity scarf that's a big circle. Course, he put that on. The one from Julie was... Questionable. It was a collar and a leash which promoted James to point and cackle like a mad man.

"AWW YOU GONNA TAKE YOUR WITTLE PUBBY OUT FOR WALKIES!!" He wheezed out, just howling with laughter before yelping when his brother had taken the leash and snapped it like what people do with belts. As a joke (they both know), the younger of the two chased after the eldest yelling about tying him up to a tree. The adults didn't get it, but the teenagers did and Joey fell down from wheezing so much.

When it all calmed down, Fenik yelped at a toy hitting his head and plopping onto the ground. A *squeaky* toy. He just glared at his brother who snickered, making the joke about the collar and leash worse. He muttered a 'thanks' to it before stopping at feeling something plush be placed on his head. He let it land in his lap to see a folded up plaid blanket, blue and red in color with its usual mixed colored squares when it comes to two colors. Thick in material too, meant to keep one warm.

*'It's not every night we get to run around the forest like some shitty dystopian forest novel, so I thought why not get something that'll ease ya when we're apart.'*

Fenik brought it up to his face to rub his face on it, but the fact that it was practically coated in James's scent honestly did bring him comfort that he kinda just... sat there with his face in it silently before lifting his face up with a smile on it. It was easy to tell that he's pleased about it.

-

Did they go night swimming? Yes. There was a bit of daylight left so it made swimming perfect for the teenagers as they did their best to not be so loud to disturb other sleeping campers. Of course they couldn't help the squeaks and yelps that were let out from falling in and water being splashed. Joey ended up calling it good and declared he's heading back to dry off and sleep. Susie followed after. Julie did as well, after wishing the both of them 'Happy Birthday' and kissing the both of them on the cheek.

It left the two Morrisons there on the shoreline, sitting there gazing out as the last bit of light faded and allowed for their eyes to adjust and adapt to the dark. Fenik went over to the lump that is his towel and unrolled it to pull out his newly acquired blanket, only to see a little box plop out. Confused, he picked it up as he headed over to his brother and sat down to drape the blanket over the both of them.

Before he could even ask, James nudged him to open it. He didn't press on but listened and ended up withdrawing a cord necklace tied around what looks like a tip of an antler. It was engraved too with what appears to be a half of a wolf face, but the lines were dyed green. That's when he noticed another one with the other half of the face and lines dyed red.

The raven-haired teen took both. The one with the red lines he put on around his neck, then fitted the one with the green lines around his brother's neck. A matching set, but the one the russet-haired one had was bigger, until it clicked as to why.

"Remember that box ya showed me of those pieces of bones you've collected or snapped off?" When Fenik nodded as a response, he kept going. "I took the tip from that moose we took down, then this one that I have from the deer you told me you hunted. So I thought, why the hell not?"

"And you made a matching set out of them... Thank you..."

James nodded with a half smile, then his eyes followed as his brother stood up. He did the same and shifted after Fenik did. Compared to the walking hellfire the rusted colored wolf is, he's a shadow with orbs to lure in those that are unsuspecting. Together, it was just two big overgrown dogs that caused chaos like puppies.

[cowboisadness]

Hang Em’ High {FemOC x Arthur Morgan} Chapter 7

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summary: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

. . . . . 

Bear hide, a deer and deer hides along with a few rabbits and many herbs thanks to Charles means we will all be eating well for the next week or so. It was a successful hunt, given what happened.

This morning had been slow, helping Pearson prepare today's meals, reading, and laundry. I was trying to think of other ways I could contribute, to prevent myself from going mad doing the same things every day, I don't know how the other girls do it. 

Doing laundry with the other girls, Tilly and Mary-Beth, helped the time go by a bit quicker than a snail's pace.

They reminded me a lot of my childhood friends that I grew up with, daughters of the neighbouring farm.

I missed them terribly and hoped wherever they were, they would be safe and happy. I miss our conversations, talking about boys, the latest clothing that was in fashion in New York, Paris and London, politics, women's rights, you know, the usual girl talk. Conversations with the girls at camp were not much different, just a bit more impure and harsh than I was used to. It was all fun and games until they started asking if I had my eye on anyone in camp.

“Don't be shy, Bella. Must be someone you find easy on the eyes here.” Mary Beth giggled

“After my experience, I wouldn't say no to never involving myself with a man again.”

“There are good men out there, finding the right one just takes time. If only it was as simple as it is in the books. Bumping into them one evening and then riding off into the night together.”

Me and Tilly share a humorous look, stifling our laughter.

“Anyway, life ain't just about finding the one and settling down. You can always have fun...and rob them after.” Tilly says, causing the three of us to burst into laughter. “What’re you three gigglin’ about?” Arthur interjects from behind us, causing all of us to jump in surprise.

“Just lady things Mr Morgan” Tilly replies, Arthur letting out a doubtful huff before turning his attention to me.

“You still wantin’ that shootin’ lesson Miss Bella?” 

“Of course. Now?”

“If you're free” I looked over to the other girls, silently asking for permission to leave them with the rest of my chores. Thankfully they did. 

“Yeah, I’m free now” I smiled up at him.

“Get sorted and I'll meet you at the horses.” He smiled back and walked off towards his tent.

Turning my attention to finish off washing the shirt in my hands as quickly as possible, I could feel eyes boring into the back of my skull, waiting for me to look over to them. I couldn't, I just hoped they couldn't see the sudden blush forming on my cheeks.

“Don't get any ideas. He's just teaching me how to shoot.” Keeping my eyes on the shirt I was working on with haste and earning myself more doubtful hums and giggles.

I changed into pants and holstered my gun before making my way over to Arthur and his horse. He helped me up in one swift motion before mounting himself. 

As we were leaving camp we passed Tilly and Mary-Beth, now working on the few garments I had left. Both watching us as I shook my head at them. 

“Don't forget to have fun Bella” Tilly shouted over as we left, shaking my head again, thankful to be sat behind Arthur but hoping he wouldn't look back as I was blushing once again.

“What she talking about?”

“Oh, i don't really know.”

. . . . .

We stopped off in Valentine to buy more ammo before heading towards the heartlands, finding a hilled area away from any roads. Arthur had brought along loads of empty beer and whiskey bottles and set them up in a line on a large rock. He handed me his carbine repeater and pushed me forward slightly, starting a few feet away from the bottles.

“Let’s see what you know then.”

I held the gun up, placing the butt onto my shoulder and tilting my head down the sight, gripping with both hands. 

Taking a few breaths and aiming for a large whiskey bottle, I pulled back on the trigger quickly as I let out a breath. 

The repeater shot back into my shoulder abruptly, pain shooting through my arm and neck, knocking back a few steps. No shattering of glass was heard, just my gasps of pain and Arthur's laugh at my spectacular failure. 

“You ain’t standing right or holding it right.” he starts walking over, positioning the gun to sit snugly against my shoulder, away from my collarbone, then moving my hand further down the forestock, telling me not to grip too tightly and to rest my cheek on the stock naturally. 

He then moves to stand behind me placing his hands on my shoulders, gently turning me to the right a few degrees. He barely removes his hands as he trails them down to my hips, tightening and turning me slightly to the left, then kicking my feet further apart, placing them in a more steady position.

My eyes are focusing on the bottles down the sight, my mind on his hands, still gripping onto my hips. 

“Steady your breathing, pull the trigger with empty lungs.” 

Steady my breathing? Impossible when I can feel his breath on my neck. But I will try. Try to focus on my breathing, to keep my feet planted firmly. All while taking in how warm his hands are through my clothing, his grip not faltering. Inhale… Exhale… Shoot…

Glass shatters ahead of me. The Whiskey bottle now no more.

Lowering the gun I looked over to the rock to confirm I did actually hit it, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Well done. Now the others.” He finally releases his hands but remains right behind me.

We carry on till no bottles are left, which took a while, missing more than I hit with each round but getting better each time. Arthur would correct my stance whenever needed, his hands seemingly calling themselves at home on my waist each time he did so.

Before long there were no more bottles left to be shattered. It was harder than I originally imagined with having to focus on more things than just aiming and pulling the trigger. I’d need to practice more, that's for sure. Thanking Arthur for his help, returning his gun to him we decided to relax beneath a large tree nearby to escape the afternoon sun, sharing a chocolate bar between us as we talked. 

“Ya still planning on leaving since you're all healed now?”

“I don't know. Not sure where i would go anyway.” He hummed in response and took another piece of chocolate, handing the last two pieces to me. “I do have a brother in New York somewhere. If he's even still there i wouldn't know where to find him.” I took the last piece of chocolate into my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue to savour the sweetness. “Ya could always stay with us. Sure ya won't always have a soft bed or grand meals but we can keep you safe.”

“It's funny...i feel safer with a gang of outlaws than i did in a grand house with personal security.” I said as I gave a hollow laugh.

It was true I did feel much safer. I didn't need to sleep with one eye open or feel like I was always walking on eggshells, waiting for the inevitable crack. I don't care about having a soft bed, given that recently has been the best I've slept in months, apart from the odd nightmare that wakes me. They have always been the same. I’m standing out in a lush valley, the sun is shining, the breeze is cool and the birds are singing. The camp behind me filled with the now-familiar chatter and laughter from little Jack. It's peaceful for a moment until the clouds turn black and the sun seems to die. Fog across the once heavenly horizon growing bigger with a familiar silhouette drawing closer. They call my name like venom in my ears. Voices from the camp change from laughter to shouts of my name too, urging me to get to them but I can't move. No matter how much I try I can't turn and run, feet stuck like they are encased by hardened mortar, my eyes fixed on the one ahead. It's Frank, his face distorted and covered in blood, his eyes burning with rage. He lunges towards me, his hands constricting around my throat like a Python that hasn't eaten in months. Then I wake, jolting upright and my breathing staggered till I realise where I am. Arthur moves to his satchel, pulling out a worn book and a pencil, flicking absentmindedly through the pages for a moment. I watch with curiosity as he brings the pencil to the page, making quick strokes, his brow furrowed in concentration. Watching him for a few moments I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of serenity and wanting to bask in it’s feeling forever. His gaze on the page does not falter, determined to convey whatever he intended to perfection. “What are you doing?” He keeps his eyes on the task in hand. 

“Nothin’ really. Just ramblings and drawings I do to pass the time.”

“Can i see some?” 

He looks hesitant and at that moment I regret asking him to share something that is obviously meant to be private. But he nods his head to beckon me closer and murmurs a quiet “Sure” 

I sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder as he flicks through the pages, a blur of white and charcoal grey. He stops to show me a few pages, they are littered with small drawings of plants and animals, telling me what each of them are if they don't come with an already written name.

Other pages include strange buildings and stranger people he has encountered, each of them so detailed and beautiful I could imagine what they looked like as if each subject was placed right in front of me. He returns to the previous page he was working on, a half-finished drawing of a woman, her back turned but holding up a gun, aiming at a row of bottles perched on a rock in the distance. I look up to him once I realise but he doesn't look back. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to explain or apologise for not seeking my permission but before he could say a word I look at him again. 

“I’ve never had someone draw me before.” I smile, hoping to ease any worry or embarrassment he may have.

His eyes finally meet mine as he turns, those blues i swear i could still drown in if i look for too long. My heart starts racing and I can feel the blood pulsing through my veins when I realise how close to each other we are, our faces mere inches away. His scent filling my nose, warm and inviting. My eyes dart down instinctively to his lips then back up in the hopes he didn't notice but it's evident when his pupils flare that he did. He saw. I don’t know what's happening, don't understand what i am doing until i start leaning in towards him and he follows. I can almost feel him against my lips, I can almost taste him as a shot rings out in the air not far in the distance, accompanied by shouting. We both jerk backwards instantly, our eyes tore away from each other as we scan the area around us. He stands to look around, hand on his holstered gun, telling me to stay put as he goes to check it out, hoping for no danger. As he leaves I feel like I can finally breathe, no longer drowning and I try to think about what just happened, what was about to happen. Was I trying to recreate what happens in them god awful romance novels? I'm not a child anymore, I can't be getting myself involved with bad men in that way. I needed to get a hold of myself. A voice in my head telling me I can't deny he's the first man to show me this sort of kindness in a long time. He's gone out of his way multiple times to help me and to make sure I'm safe. But he does that for the other girls at camp, he cares about them too and does everything in his power to make sure the whole gang can sleep safely. He does it all and denies himself the right to gratitude. Frank isn't a fraction of a man that Arthur is. I was still lost in thought when Arthur came back into view but he wasn't alone. Accompanied by a horse, a beautiful Chestnut Kentucky Saddler. 

The creature was visibly shaken, it’s body tense, ears pinned back and tail swishing from side to side, Arthur offering constant words of encouragement and pats on the neck to help calm it.

“Robbery gone bad, fella is dead.” He handed the reins over to me delicately “Here.”

I took the reins in my hand, looking to him with obvious confusion.

“Didn't want to leave her there.”

I extend my free hand out towards her nose to show I'm no threat as I study her overall form, ears not forward. She seems fit and strong, obviously cared for and loved.  She presses her whiskered nose to my palm tenderly as I look into her eyes, hoping she knows she can trust us. She can trust me.

[hq-cuties-pls]

Queen of Crows: Daichi x Reader

This is a commission I'm posting with the commissioner's go-ahead. Please enjoy this Mythology/Arranged Marriage AU

~Admin Emma

***

You’d always known you had a destined prince. Your parents told you all time time. As a girl, it had been a story. Something with which to play pretend, but it wasn’t real. You would take your pretend prince on adventures, saving him from monsters and solving puzzles and exploring the little patch of foggy woods near your apartment building. Your prince became something of an imaginary friend, but grounded child that you were, you knew it was make-believe. 

It was kid stuff… until you actually met him. 

On the day you turned 15, your apartment was paid a visit by Gods. They didn’t specifically say they were Gods, but you knew. Being in their presence was something akin to standing at the center of a storm. His father was a tall man, broad shouldered and strong. His features were hard and square, and his face was unnervingly, agelessly smooth despite the white shock through his dark hair. His mother, on the other hand, was the opposite. Soft where his father was hard, warm where he was cool, golden where he was pale. Her eyes shifted unnervingly between spring green, summer gold, earthen brown, and deep black… it was almost nauseating to watch. The aura surrounding them was unmistakable… you felt wrong for looking directly at them. Some ancient instinct wailed for you to drop to your knees, prostrate yourself before them… 

Then, you met Daichi. 

He looked about your age, with his father’s broad features and his mother’s warm coloring. He saw you and dipped into a formal bow, but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say, either. So you just bowed back… that seemed right. 

“My name is Daichi, future God of crows, carrion, and scavengers.” 

“Um… I’m ____. Please, take care of me.” 

“Lord Hades.” Your father’s sudden entrance broke the strange tension that passed between you. “Lady Persephone. So glad you could join us. Please, come in.” 

“Thank you for having us,” the man--Hades--said smoothly, escorting his wife by the arm. “I’m pleased we were able to arrange these things amicably. These negotiations used to be… quite barbaric.” 

You shivered… you didn’t know much about Greek mythology (reality… unless you were running the worst fever and this was the wildest fever dream) but the image of Andromeda chained to a rock certainly came to mind. It took so long to process what you were seeing that before you knew it, Hades and Persephone were seated across from your parents, tea was being served, and the only empty spot at the table was right next to Daichi. If you didn’t know, he’d look like any other boy from your class. Maybe one you wouldn’t even notice… he looked so normal. 

“Let us be frank,” Persephone said, folding her elegant brown hands in front of her. “We’ll spare you the unsavory details, but there is a prophecy. As we explained to your wife, ____-san, we firmly believe your daughter is key to circumventing said prophecy.” 

Despite the tumult of questions you suddenly had, there was an eerie--almost unnatural sense of calm. In short, your parents were negotiating your… your marriage. To Daichi. A future God. Figures you’d only read about in storybooks and class textbooks were having tea in your livingroom, negotiating the ins-and-outs of your eventual wedding. 

“We’ll wait until they’re 25, of course,” Persephone offered, petting her husband’s arm. “We’d like them to have a normal childhood, if at all possible.” 

“And we’ll make as many concessions to your...ah… faith?” Hades turned to his wife, as if to check his word choice. She nodded and he continued, “Yes, faith, as we can. However, in order for the union to be binding, it will have to be in the Underworld.” 

Surprisingly, Daichi was the one who interjected angrily, “You don’t have to talk about us like we aren’t in the room. I’m right here.” 

“Apologies, son,” Hades said, almost patronizing. He patted his son awkwardly on the head, and it looked like Daichi barely resisted the urge to swat at his father’s hand. Something about this amused you, drawing a small laugh out of your chest. 

“These negotiations are, unfortunately, necessary, my love.” Persephone smiled gently at you, even though she was talking to Daichi. “But you two can go spend some time together. Maybe get to know each other while we speak to ____’s parents?” 

“That might be wise,” your father said with his own easy smile. “____, maybe you should take Daichi-kun and make some more tea.” 

You shrugged, secretly grateful for an excuse to get out of the living room. Whether or not Daichi came with you, well… it’s not like you actively disliked him. You didn’t know him. Yet, it seemed that you didn’t have much of a choice, so you figured it wouldn’t exactly hurt to get to know him. 

Daichi followed you into the kitchen, where you busied yourself with making tea. He seemed interested in the various trappings of your small kitchen, but conversation was nonexistent. What did you even say to each other… 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “About my parents, I mean. They’re… a lot.”

“I mean…” You laughed to yourself, thinking of Hades looking to his wife for help, Persephone’s gentle doting, and the loving way in which they held each other. Looked at one another… “They’re sweet. They’re nothing like I expected, given what I’ve… ah… what I’ve read.” 

Daichi chuckled to himself, looking less like a young God and more like a boy from your class. He was handsome when he smiled like that, and would probably be drowning in confessions if he went to your school; “Yeah, my aunt has it out for my dad. According to Dad, anyway. But… well. Can I tell you a secret?” 

You shrugged, measuring out tea leaves into your little kyusu teapot; “Sure. I mean, you’re going to be my husband someday, so I don’t see why not.” 

At that, Daichi’s eyes cast down to his socks...surprisingly normal for someone destined to be the God of Crows; “That’s… that’s just it, actually. I’ve… I’ve seen my mother and father for 15 years, and they’re… ridiculously in love. When Mom has to return to Olympus, Dad is… so sad, and he never smiles quite like when Mom comes back. I know that's like… gross, or whatever… but I’ve always admired it about them. It’s something I’ve always wanted. For someone to love me like Mom loves Dad.”

You opened and closed your mouth, utterly at a loss for words. Thankfully, he continued without further prompting on your part. 

“So that’s why… if you don’t want this, you don’t have to do it.”

You sputtered, nearly dropping your tea pot in shock; “B-but… the prophecy! And your parents--” 

“Hang the prophecy, and I’ll deal with my parents. Whatever they promised your family, I’ll deliver.” Daichi fixed you with a gaze filled with an honest intensity that made him look so much older than 15. “I want a partner who loves me. For me. Not one who stays out of obligation, or worse… worse if my parents purchased their affection. That’s… I can’t. It’s probably naive of me, but I can’t. So if you want out, just say the word, and I’ll get you out. I swear on the River Styx.” 

There was a distant rumble, and the sudden tense atmosphere told you that this wasn’t an idle promise. This had weight and meaning… 

“Well…” You shifted from foot to foot, unsure how to respond. “I’m… not sure. I don’t know you very well, and… can I… can I think about it? Maybe we could… I don’t know… go on a date, or something?” 

“A date?” 

Daichi tilted his head in askance, and it occured to you that he looked very cute like that. 

“Yeah. Like… I don’t know. A movie or a cafe or something. So we can talk. Then, we can decide.” 

Decide if we want to get married, went unsaid. You were teenagers, after all. How could you expect to decide on forever when you were barely in high school. Still, Daichi’s smile was surprisingly warm, and it was something you found yourself wanting to see. 

“I think I’d like that,” he said, extending his hand to you. “I’ll… arrange something fun. Well… my best friends can help me arrange something fun. I’m bad at this kind of stuff.” 

“I… look forward to it.” 

~~~

One date at a Starbucks turned to two. Which turned to three and four and countless more. Daichi took you places you could only dream of, secret places between dimensions only accessible by the gods. You couldn’t take him to lagoons with pools made of moonlight, or caves with real stars dotting the obsidian walls… but he seemed equally taken aback by the cherry blossoms in Tsutsujigaoka park or the Izumi Botanical gardens. He seemed to like places like that... close to nature. 

As you got older, you spent more time together, and you got to know the delightfully silly boy at Daichi’s core. You learned of his love for dogs, born from being raised around Cerberus (ultimate dog, if Daichi was to be believed) and the many dog spirits that passed through the Underworld on their way to Elysium. You learned of his competitive spirit, of his friendships with Asahi--a son of Apollo and a nymph--and Suga--a mysterious son of Hermes. He told you of Olympus and the Underworld, and of his dreams to someday live his life in the sun. Among mortals. Not above them, and not beneath them. 

He, in turn, got to know you. Your hopes and dreams and passions. He learned of your wit and your biting sense of humor, your compassion, your enthusiasm and general verve… you were alive. Bursting with life and light, according to him. As you grew closer and closer, he started looking at you like the sun rose and set in your eyes--a look that made foreign (but not unwelcome) tingles run from your head to your toes. 

And at the end of every encounter, when your visit was coming to an end, he would ask the same thing. 

“Will I see you again?” 

The implication was clear… you knew all you had to do was tell him ‘no’ and you’d never see him again. He’d separate himself from your life, and that would be that. At first, when you were a teenager developing feelings for a boy for the first time, you’d kept him around out of curiosity and the desire to see things through. But as you got older, as you and Daichi became closer… he was more than your fiance. You were more than just a pair of kids caught in an old-fashioned arrangement… somewhere along the way, Daichi had become one of your best friends. Somehow, despite your forcefully entwined fates, you’d come to care a great deal about Daichi.

The idea of saying goodbye permanently became absolutely abhorrent. So you always answered, “of course.”

It was always like that. It was your pattern. You’d see each other, have a good time, and part on those words alone. It became a comfortable routine, even as the wedding drew nearer. And the longer you drew it out, the harder it became to leave him entirely. In the years since you met Daichi, he had become so precious to you… 

Beyond that, he’d grown up so handsome. Almost ridiculously so. All signs of softness and roundness had disappeared with the last of his baby fat, leaving behind a ridiculously chiseled face. Staunchy masculine and sharp in every way, and yet his eyes remained so beautiful and warm. The way he’d look at you, you’d see his mother’s springtime sun shining through that beautiful, chocolatey brown. When he touched you, your whole body drew up tight, greedily wanting more than a chaste touch at the small of your back, or a gentle grasp of your hand as he gallantly kissed your knuckles. 

Daichi had grown to be too much for you in almost every way… and you loved him for it.

Finally, the wedding drew near. You’d taken him on a day trip to see Akiu Waterfall on the outskirts of Sendai, and it was getting late. Your small apartment had been filled to the brim with flowers from Persephone’s garden, and Hades himself had delivered the finest jewels of his domain. A wedding dress made of dusky organza and lace so delicate it may as well have been smoke and feathers hung, flawless and perfectly fitted, in your closet.  

“So,” Daichi said softly, helping you navigate a particularly tricky bit of slick rock. “In a few days, we have to make our decision.” 

You ignored how the summer-warm heat of his hand against your back made you shiver, how it sent awareness through all of your limbs just to be near him. More than his celestial presence, something about this man had started to do terrible things to you. And he was so close… 

“I think…” you swallowed to dislodge the lump that stuck in your throat. “I think it’s a little late for that. At this point, it’d be a huge hassle to cancel. Can you even get your deposits back?” 

“You’re so funny,” Daichi said dryly, pausing to stroke the sleek feathers of a raven attempting to capture his attention. Over the years, the black birds had become drawn to him. You were sure that rambunctious Yuu and little Shouyo were your favorites. You idly wondered who this handsome devil was. “I mean it, ____. Just say the word, and I’ll leave. You can wait until the day of if you have to…”

For some reason, his insistence on your ‘freedom’ stung. You swallowed again, but your throat remained stubbornly thick; “Is that what you want? For me to leave? Call this off and never see me again?” 

There was a long pause. Long enough you turned to look at him, taken aback at the almost sad expression on his face; “If… if it makes you happy, then yes.” 

The word change was so slight… from ‘if that’s what you want’ to ‘if it makes you happy…’ 

“First, answer something for me.” You grabbed a seat on a relatively dry patch of rock, focusing on the breathtakingly beautiful waterfall and not the man just a few paces away from you. “We’ve known each other for 10 years… that should be enough for honesty, yes?” 

“I’ve always been honest with you, ____.” 

“Except you haven’t.” You balled your hands into tight fists, refusing to look at him. You had to say your piece, and if you looked into those perfect eyes… you’d be a goner. “You’ve always left this decision to me, Daichi, and we’re… we’re friends, at least. And I deserve better than that! So be honest with me… what do you want?” 

For a second, it looked like he was just going to repeat his desire for your happiness. Tell you that he didn’t care about himself or what his future. But he didn’t. He gave a long, thoughtful pause, idly stroking the raven perched on his arm. The only sounds were the guttural purrs of pleasure from the bird and the sibilant rush of the waterfall. 

“I want…” he bit his lip, his answer almost too quiet to hear. “I want to get married on Saturday.” 

You sat, frozen, unsure how to react. You always pictured this moment, and in your fantasies you were always a smooth and composed fairy tale princess, worthy of the wife of a God. The reality proved much more… embarrassing than that, given your surprised little squeak. 

“You… you do?” 

“I do.” His word choice was not lost on you, and judging by the soft, sweetly sad smile he gave you, it wasn’t lost on him either. “____, I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a long time… maybe even since the beginning. But… everything was so complicated, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to. Maybe it’s selfish, but I wanted you to love me… just for me. Not because I’m a God or because it was your duty or you were paying a debt… I wanted you to see me. And know me. And you did… you saw me every day, ____, and… and I can’t thank you enough.

“Which is why… it’s why I have to let you make this decision, because if it were up to me, I would have been yours years ago. But you… you never said anything, so… so I had to assume…” 

“That I waited this long?” 

Daichi rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck; “Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. Or denial. I’d hoped… that you were waiting so long because… because you wanted me. But I was never sure. So--” 

You cut him off with a gentle touch to his lips that made him start so violently, the raven perched on his arm flew away with an indignant squawk. The only thing you could register was the soft give of Daichi’s lips against your fingertips… they were surprisingly plush, soft and smooth… Eye contact was intense. It burned… 

“Daichi.” You took a deep breath, in and out slowly… “I feel the same.” 

It was a small declaration, more confident than you felt. But it seemed to snap whatever thread that held Daichi together. His warm eyes filled with happy tears, and his breath shuddered with the force of his joy. 

“Really?” He reached out a tentative hand, placing those gentle, warm fingers against your cheek.

“Really.” You leaned into his touch, letting your own hand migrate to cradle his jaw. “I really, really do…” 

Somewhere along the way, you had come to deeply love this man before you. And, by some miracle, he loved you back. He loved you and it showed. It was obvious in the gentle way he pulled you to him, his gaze and touch so tender it made you feel as delicate as the flowers in your apartment. It was so clear in the way he gently--so gently--angled your jaw so he could press his lips to your forehead. The corner of your eye. Your cheek. Your jaw… and finally… finally, he brought you in for a slow and achingly tender kiss. 

It was nothing like you imagined from him. There was a thread of uncertainty and inexperience. He was gentle and methodical and almost shy… but underneath, there was a sense of rightness. Like this was where you were meant to be. Like Daichi was made to hold you in his arms. You fit so perfectly, and it was so, so warm… 

Never in your life had you felt so loved than in that moment. Affection filled your chest until you felt fit to burst, like your mere mortal vessel wasn’t built to contain the feelings you felt for Daichi. And his strong arms were there to hold you together, keep you from flying apart at the seams. And all the while, he trembled with the force of his own emotions. But he was happy… you were happy. You could hear it in the breathless, giddy cadence of his nervous laughter. You were loved, and in return you would protect Daichi from whatever ordained fate you’d been chosen to save him from. 

Because you loved him so, so much… 

By the end of the week, under the false sun in Persephone’s garden in the underworld, you became the Queen of Crows.