#didn't think I'd have art but felt like I needed to do something

[gaytedlasso]

and you can have this heart to break...

.

Nov 5th 2020

[knifegremliin]

god it's so nice to be doing art again

[0fps]

idk if anyone plays reverse 1999 here but i might upload the "journey in the rain" album in a hot sec

[angellcherry]

— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

[copperbadge]

Recently I ran across an article about an art center that was doing creative expression classes for people with disabilities. Not that unusual, I've encountered that and trauma-oriented art therapy before, but it was the first time I'd come across the idea since getting diagnosed with ADHD. While the class was aimed more at high-needs disabilities, it occurred to me that I could -- if I wanted -- make non-prose art about being disabled.

Outside of my work in scene design I've never been much of a visual artist because I've never felt I had the combination of "something to say" and "a meaningful way to say it", but I started to question how meaningful and complex I really had to be to just make some statements about having ADHD. I can do it in prose, after all.

So I started thinking about how you would talk, in visual language, about things like time blindness, shame stemming from undiagnosed disability, the shift in behavior that medication can induce. Ways to express my condition to people who don't experience it. I still didn't really know how to build the pieces but whenever I went to an art museum I'd think about how I might do a gallery installation. The centerpiece of my mental gallery was a pair of barcodes, one marked "Neurotypical" and one marked "Neurodivergent".

[ID: An interior view of a small booklet, with pages marked 1 and 2, showing barcodes -- on the left, labeled Neurotypical, and on the right, in slightly weirder configuration, labeled Neurodivergent.]

And then I thought, why not make a zine? Nothing you're thinking of couldn't be put in zine form instead of on a gallery wall.

[ID: The booklet continues to pages 3 and 4; on page 3 is a postage-style label reading AUTISM with up arrows on either side, and on page 4 is a QR code labeled ADHD. The QR code technically should work but it just dumps a block of text I wrote about having ADHD into a browser.]

I grew up with zine culture in the 90s and I always wanted to make one but much like with visual art, I never felt like I had the right kind of thing to say; either I had too much to say or too little, and anyway I wasn't confident that what I wanted to do wouldn't just come off as trite and obvious. But you can make a six-page zine out of a single sheet of paper, so I did: I made Helpful Labels For Strange Brains by idab zines, a division of Extribulum Press. (i--dab is a term for a cuneiform tablet that contains a royal communication.)

[ID: The last two pages feature the same image -- a cereal bowl with a spoon in it, the spoon containing a single Adderall pill. One image, however, is captioned "Wake up. Pour yourself a cup of iced coffee. Fix a bowl of cereal. It's going to be a good day." while the other is covered in a detailed ADHD-style step-by-step process for the same actions, culminating in "It's going to be a day like that."]

I'm pretty pleased with how it came out -- the art all looks intentional and it still has that "taped this together after school" aesthetic I remember fondly from the 90s. And the confines of six pages, each only a few inches square, offers a good structure to keep things clear, simple, and meaningful.

[ID: The cover of the zine, labeled "Helpful Labels For Strange Brains" in a kind of esoteric stampy font.]

Especially nice is that if you wanted to you could just hand out the flat sheet, and let folks fold it into a booklet or not -- there's instructions for folding it on the back of the zine. Additionally I have some sticker backed printer paper so I could print it such that you could literally turn the labels into real labels.

Anyway if you want it, here ya go. You can print it on a single sheet of paper and follow the instructions on the back to fold it. I thought about selling it but I do not have the spoons to do a bunch of printing and folding and shipping.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[yandere-romanticaa]

art credit. // I was greatly inspired by this post by the lovely @yanderenightmare so, I'd like to add my own little take on it, but only focusing on Dabi and Hawks because I'm just in that mood.

The good and bad cop routine is something which would take ages getting used to. The sheer amount of whiplash and pressure which is being put on you on a daily basis is too much, it's too fucking much and you have no time to process any of it as you are forced into this new life without any sort warning. On the few rare occasions in which you are graced with the rare bliss of solitude, you sit at your new home and just think. Ponder. Scheme. You allow the luxury of fantasy to take over your mind - you run out of the front door, barefoot, broken and scared. Bruises, cuts, burns and plenty of other injuries litter your body like a stained canvas, old and used. You could already feel the aching of your unused muscles as they would scream at you to stop, lungs heavy with the need to just breathe you but you cannot because if you do they would find you and drag you back however they damned pleased.

In this fantasy, you managed to escape. The soft green grass touched your toes, the warm sun felt hot but incredible against your tired skin. It felt as though it was giving you a Welcome back! greeting as you would make your way towards the train station, with nothing but a few bucks and some pathetic excuse of an outfit on you. You had nothing but you could manage. Anything was better than being forced back into that Hell.

You let out a long sigh as vivid imagery engulfed you, it felt so real. There you were, out of the country and lost to civilization somewhere far, far away. Grunt and manual labor would be beyond difficult to start with but it was the best possible option as it would give you little to no attention. Besides, it would take ages for your abused body to get used to it, which would probably dock your pay a little but you didn't mind. Oh how perfect of a life that would be, with no one around to bother you ever again. Perhaps in a few years if you felt like it, perhaps you could step foot in a crowd without the paranoid fear of someone peeling your skin off with white hot flames of fury and jealousy.

Dabi's touch became like a second nature to you and you hated it. Whenever he could he would grab you and just press you close to him, not caring at all about any personal space. He was tired and bored, behave and he'll be good to you, maybe. Keigo would proceed to reprimand him for his attitude but you knew damn well that he was no better than the villain.

He too would take you if he had the chance. Frankly, you were never sure what you were more keen on - Dabi's devilish honesty or Keigo's sweet suffocation. Neither option was good but Keigo felt like a lesser evil, something you could manage with a kind word or two.

You couldn't help but to grunt as your eyes fluttered open. Looking around, the apartment was still vacant. Damn it all, you couldn't even fantasize without even thinking of the two.

Oh how happy they would be if they knew that fact.

You could already hear Dabi's satisfied grunt as he pulled you close to his chest, his touch rough and unforgiving. That's right you should be thinking about him, you should be worried about what he might do to you because mercy is not in his vocabulary. Despite his constant teasing and bullying, Dabi was in no mood for games. Sure, he was a sadist who took genuine pleasure in watching you squirm and cry, particularly if it was caused by his hand. His awful burns would take forever to heal, he sometimes wouldn't even allow them to heal. That was his own personal way of claiming you, putting his own little stamp of ownership somewhere visible. As stated, mercy is not something he is familiar with.

A kinder touch is more up to Keigo's speed.

Despite the beautiful wings on his back, the man was no angel and he was not guiltless. He was just as bad as Dabi but his own obsession simply manifested in a completely different manner. Instead of hurting you, the pro hero preferred to be doting and kind. Oh how he ached to touch you but whenever you would flinch away hurt him so badly, but he never put the blame on you. Horrible, mean Dabi was the one who messed you up, which meant that it was Keigo's job to fix you. The blonde just loved to bathe you, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as the scent of shampoo would fill his nostrils, a scent he hand picked in hope that you would like it.

They took so much from you. He had to make it up somehow.

It was during these vulnerable moments where he tried to get you to open up to him. There were times when he managed to do just that and have a proper conversation with you. He stored those precious memories deep inside his heart and he would replay them constantly in his head as he was out on patrol.

He couldn't wait to get home. Did you start to see him as desirable? A person of safety? God he hoped so.

There was no way out of this arrangement he made with Dabi, there just wasn't. It was hard to manage but it had to be done. Keigo felt bitter about the fact that Dabi was the one who spent most of the day with you. Keigo was unfortunately tied down by his hero work and public duties, which meant that he had to be extra careful about his activities with you. He couldn't risk the public knowing about you, it was too dangerous.

As for Dabi, he danced on a strange line of being allowed to do whatever he wanted while also somehow being able to do nothing. On paper that makes no sense but Dabi is just that kind of guy. He can have you for himself for the whole entire day but if you were spotted with a nefarious criminal such as him, he would be in deep shit. He was skilled enough to take care of this whole ordeal but still.

The relationship you have with these two is rocky. It's like trying to pick a rose and trying to avoid the thorns, only to end up getting pricked by an even bigger thorn. No matter where you go, run or hide, they are always there. Not even your own mind was safe.

[azrielbrainrot]

Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

Band AU masterlist

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Prompts 8 and 14 with Poly lost boys? (If not Poly, I’ll be good with any of them-)

8. Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!

14. Are you alright?

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this!💜

------------------------------------

The house was quiet. Maria had gone off to work at the videostore, and Shelly had gone out to meet with her boyfriend Greg. Normally, I would have put some music on, doing some chores or making some art now that they were gone. But not today. I woke up feeling off. I had hoped that after some breakfast and some coffee, it would be over, but alas, it only got worse. So that's why I found myself lying on the couch, with the remote control of the telly in my hand. I still hadn't put it on, knowing that the sound - no matter how soft it could be - would only worsen the headache I had.

I closed my eyes as I felt another pang of pain flashing through my head. The headache had been there all day, but now it was slowly but surely turning into a splitting headache. I knew I couldn't ignore it any longer and made my way to the kitchen. Somewhere, in one of the cabinets, I was certain I'd have a package with aspirin. I sighed as I entered the kitchen, seeing the dirty dishes piling out of the sink. The remains of our lunch were lying on the kitchen island. It was a mess. Normally, I wouldn't mind cleaning it up, but now, the thought alone made me want to cry. God, I felt sick.

I opened the cupboard, realising that the package I had had been used up by my housemates. The only thing left of it was the empty box. I sighed as I threw it in the bin, deciding that I'd have to go to the drugstore. I got dressed in some comfortable yet more appropriate clothing - I didn't want to go outside in my pyjamas - and put my shoes on. After locating my keys on the dining room table, I headed outside - only to return to put a jacket on. It was surprisingly cold outside.

As I walked down the street, I was a little relieved to realise that the sun was setting already. It meant that my boyfriends would be going to the boardwalk soon. As much as the idea of being in a brightly lit, loud space didn't appeal to me, the idea of being with them and near them did.

The door to the drugstore opened with a soft tinkle as I pushed it open, the bell above the door signalling my presence. It was quiet inside, the only other customer an old lady. I greeted her quietly before searching the aisles for what I needed. I didn't pay attention when I heard the bell ring, nor did I pay attention to the space around me. So, when I found the brand I needed, and made a move to grab it, I bumped into someone.

"Oh my god, I'm so-"

"Shit, you look like shit babe!" I looked up and saw that I had bumped into Marko. I gave him a watery smile.

"I kind of feel like it, I think it hay-fever or something."

Marko nodded, his hand resting on my forehead to check my temperature. "I think it's a bit more than that."

"Fever?"

"Yeah, a bit. Come on," he took the medicine I wanted and walked towards the checkout. "You're staying with us tonight."

"Weren't you going to the boardwalk?"

"You're more important. Santa Carla won't forget who owns the place if we don't show up one night."

I nodded, taking a deep breath. It was suddenly really warm inside. "What were you doing here?"

"Paul's been complaining about a lack of liquorice in the cave."

"He really likes that stuff?"

"Apparently. We can't all be perfect," he paid for the liquorice and the aspirin, also asking for a bottle of water. He grabbed our stuff, opening the door for me. Once we were outside, I stopped walking for a moment, taking some deep breaths.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head slightly. " 'm feeling a little faint."

"Go and sit down, alright?" He handed me the bottle of water and the aspirin. "Have you eaten today?"

I shrugged as I took a sip. "Wasn't hungry."

"You actually got the liquorice!" I looked up as I saw Paul appearing out of thin air in front of me. "And you got our gir- Jesus, you look like shit."

I nodded, feeling a little less faint than before. I heard the loud rumble of motorcycles, and I knew that Dwayne and David were also here now. I looked up, smiling tiredly as David walked towards me.

"Hey."

"Hey darlin'," he helped me stand up, looking me over as I did. I felt myself tremble a little. Maybe Marko was right, and this was more than allergies. "Let's get you home. Do you think you can hold on?"

I nodded, climbing on the back of his bike, and holding on to him tightly.

"We need some food, see if there's a store open so you can get her some fruit and bread and such."

"Sure thing. Is there anything you'd like?" Paul looked at me, and I shook my head. He nodded, kissing me softly on my forehead before driving off. Marko handed Dwayne the stuff we'd just bought, saying he'd be home shortly. He had to feed. Dwayne drove next to us, both David and him driving slower than usual. I was glad they did, mainly because their usual driving style was close to nauseating. Besides, with them driving slower, the chances of me gliding off were slimmer. I closed my eyes for a bit, a sudden tiredness overwhelming me.

"Don't fall asleep, love."

" 'm not." I mumbled, holding on a little tighter.

"We're almost home, then you can sleep all you want."

Dwayne was true to his word. Less than five minutes later, we stopped at the edge of the cliff leading towards the cave. Without a word, Dwayne lifted me up, carrying me in his arms down the stairs and into the lobby of the sunken hotel.

"Couch or bed?"

"Couch," I said softly, trying to stiffle a yawn, "Don't want to be alone."

"Alright, love."

He carefully laid me down on the couch, taking some pillows from Star's bed to make sure I was comfortable. David brought me the blanket I normally used while staying here, a thick and soft fabric covering the whole thing. I mumbled a soft thank you.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" David asked, crouching down next to me, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Since this morning."

"It's probably just a cold or a flu. Is the aspirin helping?"

"A little, I guess?"

He gave me a soft smile, getting up. I closed my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness before sleep finally came.

I don't know how much time passed before I woke up, but when I did, I could hear an annoyed Dwayne hiss something at Paul and Marko.

"Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!"

"Ah shit, sorry, babe!" Paul whisper yelled at me, causing me to sleepily open my eyes.

" 's okay," I nodded, looking at them.

"I know you said you didn't want anything from the store, but I also brought you some cookies and chocolate."

I smiled tiredly, wincing as I felt my headache return. "Thank you, hon."

"If you're not feeling better tomorrow, we could give you some blood to speed up the healing process?" Marko offered. I bit my lip, not knowing whether I'd like that or not. I did feel sick, but to drink blood? "Just think about it, alright?"

"Yeah."

He smiled before looking outside. The sky was turning a bright red. He went to the back of the cave, climbing through the liftshaft. Dwayne and Paul followed. I pulled my blanket closer against me, curling up, when I felt a pair of arms lifting me up.

"Hm?"

"We're staying with you today, sweetheart."

" 's nice," I mumbled sleepily, already dosing off as he brought me to the bedroom. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow, my boys surrounding me, making sure I'd be okay.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Deuce Spade - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: I spent all night studying up al all the art, as any honor student would do.

Summon Line: I'm here to check out some art at a museum, I guess. I don't know if I'll really understand what's "good" art, but... I'll do my best as a supporter of the museum.

Groooovy!!: You gotta have good manners, yeah. It'd be totally lame to get scolded by some flowers.

Home: A 100th anniversary celebration... They're so tenacious!

Home Idle 1: I saw Ace really focused on a painting of some Card Soldiers. Yeah, I'd agree it's a pretty cool bit of art... Kinda frustrating that we have the same taste in something, though.

Home Idle 2: That story about how the Thorn Fairy was completely surrounded by soldiers but stood her ground anyway is real awesome. There's no way I'd forget a tale as cool as that.

Home Idle 3: Can't say I really get art, but that painting of the Queen of Hearts and her Card Soldiers was pretty neat. Like... I felt it in my soul.

Home Idle - Login: If any of the exhibits catch your eye, let me know. I made sure to study a lot about these paintings, so I can definitely explain stuff about them! ...Probably.

Home Idle - Groovy: It sucks to admit it, but Sebek really knows his stuff... I gotta make sure I study even harder so he doesn't look down on me!

Home Tap 1: I thought maybe once I got better at painting the roses, my art grades would get better too... But that totally didn't happen.

Home Tap 2: Don'tcha think this Queen of Hearts button is too cool? I got it in one draw from the "Great Seven" prize raffle at the shop.

Home Tap 3: You thought I did a good job explaining the paintings? Oh, great. Though, all I did was do exactly as Viper-senpai taught me, so...

Home Tap 4: Me 'n Epel really got fired up talking about the Lord of the Underworld's chariot. I like it when I get to chat with people who like the same things I do.

Home Tap 5: You think I look like a model student in this outfit? RIGHT!? I TOTALLY THINK SO TOO!! ...Ah, oops. Shouting like that would ruin that vibe, huh.

Home Tap - Groovy: I wonder what kinda stuff they'd have at the exhibit-themed café they got here. You interested too? Oh then, let's go check it out together!

Duo: [DEUCE]: You better be ready to go, Sebek! [SEBEK]: Humph, I don't need you telling me twice, Deuce!

Birthday Login Message: [Yuu], thanks! I knew you'd come celebrate my birthday without a doubt. What do I want as a gift? Hmm, let me think... Oh, I want one of those bib clips for runners. That way, when I clip it to my uniform during a track meet, it might give me a boost, as if I'm running with my best bud!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[funishment-time]

🔵 Kodaka BlueSky Q&As: Female DR Characters (Specific)

⚠️ DISCLAIMER: Please be advised! Translations of all Japanese answers derive from a combination of Google Translate and my manager's three-quarters-remembered Japanese. We've tried our best to work out what he's saying, but there will be mistakes here and there. Do not take this as gospel!

To avoid spreading (too much) misinfo, where we're completely boggled about an answer, we've decided not to even make an attempt. We'll still list the post, but mark it accordingly.

➡️ AN IMPORTANT NOTE FROM KODAKA BEFORE READING:

First of all, the questions answered here are not official. Everything that is official is what is said within the work. In contrast, this is simply what Kodaka, the creator, thinks, and it is not the correct answer. Use this as a starting point to enjoy the depth of each character, or to say, "That's not right!" and enjoy it with your own interpretation. I think of this as a way of communicating with the characters who live in fiction. This is important, so please spread the word.

💕 FEBRUARY 2024:

Q: I apologize if this has already been discussed somewhere, but I would love to hear about the reasons and episodes behind choosing Kitayama Takekuni as the author of the novel "Danganronpa Kirigiri."

A: I like Kitayama's novels. They are mysteries, but I felt there was something in common between them [DR & Kitayama's work] in the writing and dialogue.

/////

Q: In her report card, it was stated that SDR2's Nanami Chiaki has a father and brother who are programmers, but does this only apply to SDR2's Nanami and is she separate from Despair Arc's Nanami? In the reference book, there is no data about Nanami's alma mater, but is there a possibility that information such as the alma mater of Despair Arc's Nanami will be released in some form in the future?

A: That's right. It applies to only SDR2 Nanami. I wonder if there will be any information released about Despair Arc Nanami...

/////

Q: Excuse me for asking a question!! I think games are essential to Nanami, so I wonder how she would react if they were confiscated!

A: I guess she'd end up looking like Gudetama.

NOTE: The adorable Sanrio depressed egg guy.

/////

Q: Mr. Kodaka, do you have any comments about Kitayama Takekuni's "Danganronpa Kirigiri"?

A: Before the series began, I had consulted with them about the overall structure and points of reference, but after the series began, I felt like I was mostly enjoying it as a reader.

/////

Q: Excuse me for my second question. I would like to know the reason why Kirigiri Kyoko has her braids undone on one side in the timeline of the anime "Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak Academy Future Arc" and the manga "Danganronpa Gaiden Killer Killer" and if there is any background reason for this...

A: I've not heard why, in part because it was left up to Komatsuzaki-kun. I thought on my own that it was because she had become an adult.

NOTE: Komatsuzaki is the guy behind Danganronpa's art.

/////

Q: Excuse me for the second question! Yumeno-chan was called a "shishamo roe" by Iruma and a "grilled horse mackerel" by Ouma, but what does she think about those metaphors?

A: "Huh?"

NOTE: A shishamo is a type of fish. Also, he's answering as Himiko, if it wasn't clear.

/////

Q: Why do we not get any undisguised Mukuro sprites in Danganronpa S?

A: I had absolutely no involvement with Danganronpa S.

NOTE: You'll see him reference this a few times too. He didn't do Summer Camp at all!

/////

Q: Why did you decide to become a maid, Tojo-san?

A: I think that because she could do anything, she felt it was boring to use her power for herself and felt more comfortable serving others, and that is why she was so selfless.

/////

Q: If the characters in Danganronpa were 16.7 years old in 2010, they would be 30 years old in 2024 if they were still alive. What do you think they would have been like when they turned 30 if they had lived a normal life? I don't need to know everyone, but I'd like to hear it.

A: At the very least, Fukawa is dead.

NOTE: It's true, but he shouldn't say it.

🍀 MARCH 2024:

Q: In the profile of Genocider Syo from Ultra Despair Girls, she lists "girls that aren't moe" as something she dislikes, but since she has deliberately stated "aren't moe", does that mean that "girls that are moe" exist in Genocider Syo's opinion?

A: "I think it's either 'not moe' or 'other.' I don't do moe."

NOTE: Answering as Syojack, it seems.

/////

Q: Does Yumeno-chan ever wear casual clothes? If so, does she wear a wizard's hat?

A: "A robe like a dark mage's is my personal attire. I don't go out on windy days because it all flips up."

/////

Q: when you wrote the ending to Danganronpa Another Episode, were you expecting to use Monaca more or was her arc always going to end the way it did in Danganronpa 3?

A: In truth, Monaka's story ended with just another episode. However, we wanted to have as many characters in Danganronpa 3 as possible, so we decided to add her to the anime.

/////

Q: Does Harukawa-san eat sweet things?

A: She used to lick rock candy on the job to replenish her energy.

/////

Q: What would happen if I confessed to Mioda Ibuki?

A: She sometimes responds with songs, but she usually doesn't know how to answer.

/////

Q: I believe the character of Fukawa Toko (Genocider Syo) is originally based on the protagonist of Clock Tower GH, but are Genocider Syo's murder weapon and motive for murder also based on Tono Masayuki's mystery novel "Scissors Man"?

A: Neither of them are right...! I imagined Genocider as a monster like the ones in Ushio & Tora.

NOTE: Clock Tower GH is a video game known as Clock Tower 2 in the US. It's a point and click survival horror. Ushio & Tora is a supernatural/dark fantasy manga from the early 90s.

/////

Q: Does Fujisaki have a favorite food?

A: Mini katsudon.

NOTE: Katsudon is a pork cutlet bowl.

/////

Q: What kind of clothes does Fujisaki Chihiro like to wear (or usually wear)?

A: Unisex jeans.

NOTE: It's not exactly a question so I won't list it here, but a Chihiro fan responded with excitement, at which Kodaka replied "100 points for your reaction."

/////

Q: Excuse me for asking a question! In Ultra Despair Girls, Fujisaki Taichi had a photo of Fujisaki [Chihiro] in a sailor uniform, looking like they were in their rebellious phase (?)! It's so cute! I'd really like to know how the photo was taken and if there are any untold details about the Fujisaki family!

A: No matter what Fujisaki [Chihiro] is, their father can't help but take pictures because they are a cute kid, but Fujisaki [Chihiro] themself is embarrassed, and since those around them are becoming more and more rebellious, they are acting a little like a rebel, but later they will probably feel sorry for their father and be depressed.

/////

Q: Why is Enoshima Junko so cute? What's her favorite food?

A: "I think it's because I live life the way I want to. I get bored easily, so my favorite things change every day."

🥬 APRIL 2024:

Q: I think Celes' dream is to live in a Western castle surrounded by handsome men, but if she had to choose one of the handsome men from Danganronpa, who would she choose? From watching Celes' fantasy scenes, it seemed like she only had a limited number of handsome men, so it's possible that there isn't a type among the characters that appear, but if there is, please let me know.

A: Probably none of them are in that category. I think she wants to create a world like Interview With Vampire.

/////

Q: Yumeno-chan, what type of handsome guy do you like?

A: Something like a pop star.

NOTE: My manager says another great translation would be "trendy bastards." Kodaka loves his fictional daughters...

/////

Q: Why does Fukawa Toko hate taking baths?

A: It's a hassle because you have to put the clothes on after you take them off, and you have to dry them after they get wet.

/////

Q: Today is Asahina-san's birthday. What would you give her that would make her happy? I'm sure she's been getting lots of donuts from everyone, so I'd like to give her a unique present that will leave a lasting impression!

A: "Shoes for my younger brother!"

🌺 MAY 2024:

Q: Did Enoshima clean up the victims' bodies and rooms?

A: I think she used technology to that extent, though Enoshima, impatiently cleaning up the mess, also looked hopelessly cumbersome and hopelessly kawaii.

/////

Q: Why does Yumeno-chan hate the ocean?

A: Because it's big.

/////

Q: Excuse me for asking a question! Is the story about the school festival in the Danganronpa original drama CD written by Kodaka-san? There is a scene in the drama where Fujisaki wants to wear a cute apron, which was quite unexpected for Fujisaki in the main story, so it was a shock. Was there a possibility that Fujisaki would embrace cute things in the main story as well?

A: I think I only wrote the very first one. The one that has a white and black disc. If I remember correctly.

/////

Q: Excuse me for asking a question! I think that in the articles(?) released during the development stage there were many scenes that were not in the main story. Were these scenes faked to hide the contents of the main story, or were they actually there during production? I'm curious if there were any scenes where Fujisaki-kun was suspected in court!

[This person included this image:]

A: This is an image made up for a proposal. It was made before the story even existed.

/////

Q: What do you think is Kyoko Kirigiri's favorite type?

A: Just look at Danganronpa!

/////

Q: Iruma Miu's favorite thing is "programs for young children," but what kind of programs for young children does she like? Programs where you can sing and dance along, educational programs, or maybe anime programs for young children...

A: "I sing along when the host sings, and I work with her when she's doing crafts. Other than that I just watch while swearing."

/////

Q: Can you cook, Kirigiri-san?

A: "I want to cook but I need to wear gloves and that's where I'm stuck. I really want to cook." In response to all this, that guy…(oops, no more on that)

/////

Q: Excuse me for asking a question! (Sorry for asking so many times lol 💦) In DR2, Nanami Chiaki said, "I have a father and brother who are programmers," and I interpreted this as Fujisaki Chihiro and Fujisaki Alter Ego but are they actually different people (because they were created by the program left behind by Fujisaki?)? She also said other things that reminded me of Fujisaki, so I've been wondering about this for a long time!!! I look forward to your answer!!!

A: I am pretty sure that was the impression I had at the time.

☀️ JUNE 2024:

Q: Celes, I believe you usually wear gothic lolita clothes, but do you ever wear sweet lolita, hime lolita or other types of lolita clothes?

A: "I just tried them on and threw them away."

/////

Q: Does anyone in the Danganronpa series get headaches?

A: Fukawa.

🎇 JULY 2024:

Q: Is Nanami-chan popular with the guys?

A: I think a lot of guys like her.

/////

Q: What content does Tsumugi Shirogane like more? Yaoi content or Yuri?

A: "I like all of them, so I change my taste depending on the season."

/////

Q: What were Junko and Mukuro's parents like?

A: They were an ordinary couple and a normal family, but their ordinariness had made Enoshima Junko despair from the moment she was born.

/////

Q: I'd like to hear more specifically about Maki Harukawa's usual diet!

A: Rations.

🌭 AUG 2024:

Q: I would like to know about Mioda's family relationships. I wonder if she often plays alone because she didn't have a good relationship with her parents.

A: It is possible that the whole family is like that.

/////

Q: If there was a punishment for Iruma Miu, what do you think it would be? She has a bad mouth, but I think she's a good girl at heart and I love her, so I want her to be happy.

A: You can't be as happy as a good child. It's so unfair lol

🍁 SEPT 2024:

Q: Do you have any favorite games, Owari-chan?

A: Any where I don’t have to use my head.

/////

Q: What is your best magic, Yumeno-san?

A: Self-hypnosis magic

/////

Q: Did Kirigiri cry as a child the first time she went on detective work with her grandfather (a murder detective would see a body)?

A: Kirigiri has never cried over a dead body.

/////

Q: If there was a motivation video in Danganronpa 2, what would Nanami's video look like?

A: 4K video of the Despair Arc of the anime, in which Nanami Chiaki, the model for the character, dies.

/////

Q: What would Chiaki Nanami do when she's in a desperate situation? Will she become a million-man murderer?

A: No.

[sockatoothewafflebird]

over and over, i fuck myself over, and under and under, i do it again.

morning and evening, i felt i was grieving, until i said fuck you, and never again.

daytime or nighttime, i feel i'm on my time, but time is fickle, just like a friend.

and with my departure, from the pain i harbor, i feel i am sinking, and sailing to swim...

--

I'm worried about Ragatha.

She'd definitely be better off not looking at mirrors for a while. Even more so if she stopped reciting random depressing songs to her ceiling, for no other reason than to dig a deeper hole, to sink further down. I can hear her singing to herself every night, the same songs she plays on all her instruments. What a beautiful voice. How beautifully she plays. But, it's always so sad.

She keeps falling. Faster. Further. Her screams can't be heard anymore. And yet she never falters. How many miles - and what kind - of shit has she been through, to think this is okay? How long did it go on for, for her to think it's normal?

It's not healthy.

But she doesn't mind. Somehow. She'd break her own arms herself if it meant Zooble would stop losing their temper at her, if it meant Jax would stop terrorizing Gangle, if it meant Kinger could just remember the little things.

She's such a wonderful person. Amazing. An unstoppable ray of sunshine for anyone willing to look at her. She's the kindest person I've ever met. Even behind all that fog, she cares, maybe more than anyone. It's so sweet.

It's so easy to see she's hurting though. She hurts so much sometimes I can see her hide her tears, I can tell she deflects all the time.

If only she knew she didn't have to hide. If only she saw it. If only she knew she's more than a toy.

If only I could get through to her.

I guess I should've listened when Kaufmo said to never fall for a girl with baggage. Seeing her like this just hurts.

I hope she can figure it out. I try so hard to make sure she's doing alright, and she always insists I don't have to worry. And I can never hide how much it devastates me that she thinks I'd drop the subject so quickly, and just act like I don't care. I do care. I care so much I think i'll fucking die if she doesn't start seeing through my eyes once in a while.

God. This is the longest entry i've ever written. My hand hurts.

Goodnight, I guess. Here's to hoping.

---

my plan when i find a character i like (in no particular order):

this is how i feel about ragatha. in case you didn't notice. i love her as a character so much i just wanna put her under a damn microscope. the influence has influenced me and now i share the obsession with ragatha that mod bee from @ask-the-rag-dolly has been afflicted with.

pomni is such an observant character. and caring. and overall very smart. she can't pretend she doesn't notice all of ragatha's little lies and slip-ups.. and it eats away at her, knowing she can't do anything, knowing ragatha can't and won't accept help right now. ragatha needs to come to terms with it on her own. a therapist is what ragatha needs.

but in a video game? and in my au, in the middle of a broken world full of corporate greed and the cold, unforgiving whims of mother nature? if she found a therapist in either, it would be considered a once in a lifetime historical discovery. the school textbooks would have a chapter on it.

either way, something's up in the darkest depths of that cotton-filled brain of hers, and she's just built to think it doesn't matter. she's built to make sure everything stays nice and positive and okay. when we ALL see it's not. goddamnit ragatha i will make an oc that is a licensed therapist just so you can stop being such a sad wet dog and start practicing the art of self-partially-enjoy oh my god you sweet little door hinge

(song lyrics at the beginning are from over & over by rio romeo btw, theyre very cool pls check them out)

[koolades-world]

Can I request headcannons of MC getting in a fight with Solomon and Simeon (separately) about something pretty big and how MC (or Solomon/Simeon depending on the reason for the fight) makes up for it/apologizes? I just need some good old angst to fluff man.

Thank you and your writing is amazing!

hi! of course :)

the solomon one was def a lot more serious that the simeon one just because i couldn't think of much that mc and him would get into a serious fight about haha (this only thing i could think of was mc confronting him about his choices that led to him becoming humans and that needs it's own piece for sure)

i kinda deviated from the prompt as a wrote, so sorry about that haha. that happens sometimes as i write. the solomon one is much more on prompt

enjoy <3

Mc gets into a fight w/ Simeon and Solomon (separately)

Simeon

you get jealous that he's been spending so much time with the members of the school's art club

that in itself isn't the problem and you're glad he's getting out there more with something he doesn't normally do, it's just that you can tell that two other members in specific are very into him

they inserted themselves into your relationship and specifically tried to upset you, which cause you to blowup at them

"So, what time are you going to be home?" You pinched your D.D.D. between your shoulder and your ear as you got together the ingredients for dinner that night, since it was your turn to cook.

"In about an hour. Art club will take a little longer today. We're finishing our paintings. I hope you'll like it." The melodious voice of your boyfriend, Simeon, was piped into your ear.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. If you're going to be late for dinner, let me know. I'll set aside a portion for you." You smiled at the nervousness you heard in his voice.

"Alright. I'll talk with you later then. Love you, Mc." Simeon said.

""Love you too. Stay safe." You put the phone down, and went back to preparing dinner. After you were done, you left it on the stove on keep warm and went off to get some homework done. Eventually, dinner time had rolled around, and still nothing from Simeon. You assumed everything was as normal, so you called your other housemates to dinner.

"Thank you Mc." Luke sat down at the table with his plate.

"Let me know what you think! I tried a modified recipe today." Before Solomon could speak up, the front door finally opened. You got up to greet who you presumed was just Simeon, but there were three people in the doorway.

"I'm home. Hope you don't mind I brought a few guests." Simeon stepped aside to fully reveal his two companions. You recognized them as two other members of the art club, an incubus and a succubus. They really liked Simeon, which wasn't wrong, but they liked him too much. They knew he was currently in a relationship, but that didn't seem to stop them.

The rest of what happened was somewhat of a blur. You vaguely remembered getting progressively more upset at the two newcomers, until eventually, you stood up from the dinner table and went upstairs to your room.

"Mc? I know you're in there." Simeon knocked on the locked door. you didn't answer him. "I'm sorry for bringing them home. I didn't know they'd say that to you. You can blame me all you want." Instantly, you felt bad for unconsciously pinning the blame on him. He had such an alluring personality, so it wasn't really his fault that everyone liked him.

"It's not your fault." You opened the door, and pulled him into the hug. "They were trying to get a rise out of me, and I took the bait. It was a result of pent up feelings I should've share before. I'm sorry."

Simeon sighed and patted your back. "No need to apologize. It's normal to be jealous. I could have done better and asked, but the past is in the past, isn't it?" He took a step back and picked something up that was leaning against the wall. "This is for you. I'd wanted to prepare some of your favorite cookies to go along with it, but I thought now might be a good time to give it to you." In his hands was a portrait of you.

"Simeon! This is beautiful. Thank you!" You hugged him again.

"I'm glad you like it." Simeon moved to set it down, but you stopped him.

"Let's hang it up right now. I have the perfect spot." Simeon was glad to have been graced with seeing your beautiful smile once more.

Solomon

the two of you get into a fight about his tendency to hole up in his room for days at a time

he says he's doing important experiments but you just want to spend time with him

when he does leave his room, it's a weird hours and it's at one of these times that you happen to run into him

"Sol." You held up your D.D.D.'s flashlight. In front of you was your boyfriend, looking like he hadn't slept in at least a few days. The situation might had been funny if you weren't so upset with him. He froze in the beam, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Mc, my love, my joy, my sunshine. What are you doing up this late?" He chuckled nervously, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing." You stared at each other in silence. "Babe, it's been three days since I last saw you." He smiled at you sheepishly.

"I've been doing important work." The response he came up with was lackluster.

"What could be more important than your significant other?" You sighed, lowering the flashlight. Solomon didn't respond. "Our anniversary was yesterday. You promised to take me out to dinner. I waited and waited, and even knocked on your door, but you told me you'd be out soon. You never came out." Tears began to well up in your eyes despite promising yourself you wouldn't cry. As the realization hit him, Solomon began to move towards you to comfort you, but you took a few large steps backward.

"My work really is important, but let me make it up to you. We can go out tomorrow morning for brunch, or whatever you'd like." He kept trying to move towards you, but stopped once he realized you didn't want him to close the distance.

"Maybe. I don't know. My feelings are hurt is all. I got dressed up and even had a present ready. I left it outside your door, not that you noticed." You wiped the tears away with your sleeve.

"I made a real breakthrough in my research, if that helps." Solomon suddenly looked much more awake.

"It doesn't. At all. I only wanted one thing from you, but somehow you've managed to avoid it at every turn. I admire your passions, really, I do. But sometimes, I feel like that's the only thing you care about." You turned around, and ran out of the room, taking the only source of light with you.

"Wait! Mc, come back!" Solomon promptly ran headfirst into the door you'd just slammed shut, leaving him alone in the dark, and upset himself.

The next day, he showed up at the HoL, bouquet of flowers in hand. He hesitated for a moment, but knocked. Unfortunately, Satan greeted him. He looked mostly collected, but that didn't stop him from being nervous.

"Hello." Solomon smiled at him.

"I presume those flowers aren't for me." Satan raised an eyebrow.

"Haha, no. They're for..." Your name died on his tongue when he saw you in the background. Your eyes were rimmed red and you had messy hair, but you looked rested. When the two of you made eye contact, you froze.

"Mc, I'm sorry." He held out the flowers to you over Satan's shoulder. He rolled his eyes and stepped a little out of the way. Far enough to give him room, but close enough to force him back outside if needed. You burst into another round of tears, and before Belphie, who was next to you, could grab you, you ran towards him and hugged him tightly.

"That's all I wanted to hear yesterday." Solomon held you close with his free hand.

"I'm sorry for making you think my research was more important that you, I'm sorry for forgetting our anniversary, and I'm sorry for not communicating better." He extended the flowers to you again once you stepped back.

"Thank you. You remembered my favorites." You took them, and gave them a quick whiff.

"Is it too forthcoming of me to ask if you're still up for brunch?" Solomon chuckled.

"No. I'd love that. Just let me get changed." You handed the flowers back to him temporarily to run back inside to get out of your pajamas. Satan had left at some point, but Asmo had found his way into his place.

"Sol. I love you, but if you ever try that again, I think I'll have to put your heart on a spike in the RAD courtyard." Asmo giggled. That was the second time he'd heard his usually endearing nickname spoken in such a threatening way in the past day.

"Noted." Just the reminder he needed never to piss off his s/o or Asmo ever again.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.