#i need to change some things. drawing the same two sillies for months

[strawglicks]

The reason graham messes with cathal

[siddyyyyyyyy]

HI POOKIE

can i request a fic with jason and reader who is supergirl (clark’s daughter) and just then navigating their relationship

i need jason todd in my room at 1 am

Old Friends

Jason Todd x Supergirl!Reader

wc: 2.4 K summary: You meet Jason again after not seeing each other for several years. warnings: fluff? no y/n used a/n: sorry for the long wait, this came out a little longer than usual. I think they would be too shy to admit anything to each other, but they would be cute dou. enjoy!!!

When Jason first met Superman, he didn‘t expect to see another girl his age right beside the man of steel. He was immediately awestruck, realising that you are his daughter, and got straight up flustered when your eyes met briefly.

The younger boy, back then all chirpy and small, really tried his best to impress you in any way possible.

You can pick up a couch without a sweat? He can pick up two… then have his arms hurt for the next few days.

You like frogs? He will fetch and pick up any kinds of frogs he can find and give them to you. Batman definitely scolds him for getting his suit dirty, but Jason couldn‘t care less. You were happy about the things he did, and you both soon grew into a good team on missions. Although those missions didn‘t occur often, you both tried to make the most of it. Playing catch with each other during breaks, drawing together silly things during briefings and exchanging notes, and whispering a small gossip session with the other while no one pays attention to you.

It was all fun and easy with him. Until you couldn‘t go on missions anymore because you had to work on other things, but you promised to get the next one with him as soon as possible. That stretched and stretched for months until it got into years of no missions together.

You are well in your teens now, almost an adult, and you haven‘t heard from Jason at all. It‘s sad and shameful to admit, but you almost forgot the way he looks.

Many years have gone by, being in a new suit and being taller having generally changed over the years. You are an adult now, actually in your twenties, and you are more than excited to see what changed for Jason as well. Since you lived in Metropolis all the time, you didn‘t bother to check what happened with the Bats, assuming everything probably is pretty much the same. Since you are still Supergirl and work together with Superman almost all the time, you are assuming it‘s probably the same with them.

Now that you are flying back to Gotham with your dad, there‘s a lot of thoughts swimming in your head. What if he can‘t even remember you? Is there something Calrk hasn‘t told you yet, and this is actually a bad surprise of his? What if something is incredibly wrong and something bad happened? Is this just another stupid mission?

Coming back to that musty city was nostalgic. With a heavy sigh you‘ve been holding in for, you finally land on the ground.

»You okay? Something bothering you?«

Clark steps beside you and rests his hand on your shoulder, a reassuring weight.

»Why are we here? Like, actually.«

Your dad purses his lips together. You feel the air shift around you, making you even more suspicious.

»We‘re visiting Uncle Batman, remember?«

»Yeah, but why? Did something happen?«

Clark starts walking, and you follow.

»No, nothing really happened. At least nothing that we have to take care of. Just visiting a friend.«

Great, that sounds even more suspicious. After another sigh of yours, you just silently follow him and wait for whatever surprise will get you today.

Even seeing the Wayne Manor feels nostalgic to you. Just looking and approaching the big house is awaking memories in your brain— how you used to chase Jason in the cave and accidentally knock over some vase. Are there still random and useless things in the cave, or did they finally get rid of them?

As usual, you sneaked into the entrance with your dad and managed to get past Alfred without getting caught. Well, at least it seemed like he didn‘t notice you both, but there‘s also a chance he did.

But stepping inside the cave again after so many years felt almost illegal. Sure, it felt welcoming too, but… it feels way more emtpy now. Probably because Batman isn‘t in here yet.

Speaking of the bat, he enters just moments later, seemingly out of nowhere. Superman greets him almost immediately with his usual bright smile, approaching him with a few strides. Just like the earlier days, Batman doesn‘t respond as much and simply gets straight to business.

»Why are you here, Superman? And why is your daughter her as well?«

Wow, it didn‘t even seem like he noticed you in the first place… are you getting impressed by Batman again?

»Oh, just visiting. You know, as good friends do?«

»We are friends?« Batman counters, earning a hearty chuckle from Superman after realising it was indeed just a sarcastic remark. That simple remark feels reassuring, though, almost comforting with how familiar it feels like. It was like a small sign that everything is okay, after all. Just why did Clark need to act so suspicious in the first place?

You didn‘t even notice someone else coming into the cave, being too busy looking around the artefacts that mostly seem to be the same as in the past.

»And you are the daughter of Superman?«

You turn your attention away from the cars in the garage and look at the person that spoke up. Huh… you expected someone else. Instead, there stands Robin.

Robin. In small. Right in front of you. And… he is grumpy?

Is this why you are here? Jason is stuck in his ten-year-old body?

»Oh… yeah, I am.«

Confusion is written all over your face, and you glance back to your dads. Just what is happening here…

»Father told me you used to work together with Jason.«

Silence falls over the two of you. The way this boy talks doesn‘t fit Jason at all. And it‘s clear that this isn‘t Jason.

»Sorry… who are you?«

You finally address the big elephant in the room, still being clueless and confused about the situation.

But so does Robin. He even looks taken aback by the fact that you don‘t know him. Another brief of silence falls over you two before you both call for your dads at the same time.

»Father!«

»Dad!«

Robin‘s glaring at you, and he is glaring at you at the same time. Batman and Superman look over you both, not having noticed any of your exchange before.

It turns out this Robin is actually Damian. He was upset when his father just revealed his identity like that, but it was necessary for you to understand the situation. Shortly after, you also found out about Tim. The Robin after Jason.

So, that leaves for the question: Where is Jason? Is he even still Robin? Why did he retire?

But you don‘t risk asking about that, not wanting to make the situation even more confusing or awkward. Also because you‘ve always been a little scared to ask Batman questions or generally talk to him about more personal stuff.

Eventually, after discussing some more things, it turns out you are here to help them out on a mission. It starts tonight and you are back on track again. Just focusing on the current task and processing the information you get for it.

Arriving at the scene as talked about, you see Batman defeating some of the goons, and that is your call to join him. Superman is also doing the same thing, all the while Damian is getting more information from the bad guys. It‘s all going well as usual, until a bigger threat appears. It knocks you off, making you land some feet away. Turns out, a bigger Villian just arrived and decided to join in on the chaos that‘s already happening.

Due to the fall, it‘s difficult to breathe for a few seconds before you regain yourself and get back on your feet. Charging at the Villian, you put all your anger out on him, beating that random guy in all his weak spots.

You don‘t notice the sound of an engine approaching the scene, too busy handling the bigger guy at the moment.

With a few final punches, he looks like he is about to release his last breath, and that‘s when you decide it‘s enough. Releasing your grip on him, you take a step away and catch your breath.

»Man, I really wanted to handle him. You just stole my job.«

A deeper, distorted voice sounds from behind you, making you turn around quickly. The bigger man just stands there, his red helmet stricking out like nothing else. His shining slits stare right at you, almost making you step back away from him.

Even when he looks rather intimidating, he won‘t make a move on you. And no one even fights him.

»Well, your fault for arriving late.«

You retort back with a small shrug, trying to handle the surprise with some sarcasm. It works, at least you think so. He doesn‘t say anything, only making a quieter huff sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle.

»My bike is pretty fast; I don‘t know what you are talking about.«

He shrugs as well and approaches you now. For your luck, Superman also arrives by your side at the same time, feeling rather tense for some reason.

Batman eventually appears beside the strange man too, with Damian standing behind a few steps. It‘s quiet for a few seconds before Batman updates everyone on the status of the goons and operation, glad to hear it all went successful. Superman is reluctant to leave your side but is forced to eventually, having to discuss some more things with Batman in private.

For whatever reason, that Red Helmet is still standing on the same spot and stares at you.

»And, how should I call you?« Finally, you speak up and want to hear some answers, still having no clue why he is here.

»Red Hood.«

You nod in response, letting that sink in. His short answer didn‘t leave you satisfied though, but you are also slightly unsure of what you should even ask in the first place.

»So, Supergirl, huh? What made you come to Gotham again?«

The distorted voice won‘t give away any emotions, but you swear there is a hint of bitterness.

Finally, before you could answer him, the two older men arrive back to the both of you and seem less tense than before. You feel less awkward now that your dad is by your side again, being still curious about Red Hood, though.

A few more things are briefly discussed before Batman turns to Red Hood, speaking up more casually.

»Are you joining on family dinner this Sunday? Alfred‘s making his chocolate lava cakes.«

Once this question drops, your eyes almost pop out of your skull. Family dinner? Who is this guy? Are they just inviting random people to their manor these days?

Red Hood seems tense, staying quiet for a moment before he eventually answers.

»Just because Alfres makes lava cakes.«

He grumbles back more quietly, making Batman almost smirk.

You turn your attention to Clark beside you, silently begging for answers. He notices your helpless look and becomes sheepish.

»Oh! Uh… Jason is Red Hood. Forgot to tell you.« He whispers to you with a small smile, waiting for you to react. You pause, however, before you finally become more flabbergasted. It doesn‘t make sense at all.

Dinner at the manor was more chaotic than it used to be. With the added family members, it just seemed like a big family that secretly hates each other. The constant talking and insults between the boys are not lost on the both of you. In contrast to them, you just sit quietly together with your dad, watching the chaos erupt between the seven other bats. Besides Barabara and Cassandra, the rest seems to be pretty lively.

One thing you can‘t ignore is the way Jason‘s eyes seem to burn into you the whole time. He can‘t stop staring and looking at you with those intense eyes of his. You tried not to glance his way too much, but you did anyway. You noticed the green hint in his blue eyes. Something you never noticed before. Something else you noticed too is the way he became way more quiet. It‘s not the way it used to be. You really miss the small gossip sessions and exchanges of notes with him.

The dinner is served by Alfred, and you thank him like the rest, starting to eat peacefully. As if on command, the table also becomes way more quiet once everyone has their food and starts eating. You thought you would feel relieved about the silence, but now it almost seems awkward and strange that it‘s quiet.

»Stop breathing so loud, Drake.«

»I‘m not even sitting beside you!«

»Then why can I hear your breathing from up here?«

Damian seems to enjoy making Tim upset. That‘s one of the things you took note of. Also the visible tension between Tim and Jason. At least they don‘t insult each other, only catching glares aimed at Tim from your old friend.

Dick seems to be happy to be here. Especially since you and Superman are there too. You know that the first Robin and your father worked some times as well, having talked and played with him when you didn‘t have your powers yet. He felt like a big brother for you, having played Barbie with him and also getting to have piggyback rides.

He eventually talks with your dad for most of the time, sharing a few smiles with you over the table. Bruce eventually joins in the dinner, not even trying to control the chaos but does give out warnings whenever one of them insults the other verbally.

Finally, after getting the overly delicious dessert, you can have some time to talk before you leave the manor.

As you stand in the hallway with your dad, who is currently still talking to Bruce, you decide to find Jason and talk. You find him beefing with Tim, but they quickly stop as soon as you step into view.

Tim walks away with a knowing smirk, telling him silently that he won this argument. Whatever it was, Jason is glaring daggers at him before he finally turns to you.

You both speak up at the same time, growing sheepish, and he gestures for you to speak first. You suggest exchanging numbers, which works better than you thought. After that‘s done, you finally get to ask your questions.

He doesn‘t really answer the more personal questions as casually as the others, but he tries. Turns out, Jason is still the sweet boy from the past. Whatever he had to go through really affected him, and you don‘t pry on it, figuring it will come with time.

Saying goodbye again is way more painful. You don‘t know when you will meet again, so you make a pinky promise to meet again on a Sunday.

←MASTERLIST

[danielleargentino]

blackbright stuff + rant for todayyy!!!! happy holidays everybody :))

christmas blackbright . hell yeah

silly doodles for a twitter thing.

ms paint thing i did in 10 minutes based on a song i really really like (luna roja by soda stereo). please listen to it i'm begging youuuu. if you do tell me your thoughts on the tags pleasepleaseple

very quick aziracrow gomens thing . not a fan but felt like sharing you know. whatever man. i might edit it later though

blackbright body hcs andd the little rant!! i've been thinking about them and how i want to interpret their relationship . so i've decided that my drawings will feature an au where bobby was kidnapped and rescued a short time after turnabout for tomorrow. very important warning i need to do research and stuff for this, these are just my initial thoughts on the matter. stuff will probably change.

he and simon reunite, they had worked together 7 years ago on some cases and met again much later a week before bobby's abduction (which was a bit before the events on dual destinies). now that they're meeting once more, feelings are weird and complex.

the phantom has affected them both a lot, the trauma is fresh and simon didn't even get a chance to process his feelings of betrayal before bobby appears again and now he's feeling so many things at once he thinks he might die. they have a slowburn that also goes super quick ? how do i explain it.

after a month or two, they impulsively move in together because they can't stand how lonely their respective houses are. they're pretty much the only ones who can understand each other, they need each other a lot; but they also feel like running away and from the other and hiding forever.

simon needs constant reassurance that bobby is himself and not the phantom; on occasions he can't look at him in the eyes, he feels unsafe with him at times and has to leave and look for other's company and comfort. still, he also wants to cling to bobby and never let him leave again, to know him properly, to learn to love him healthily.

bobby on the other hand feels horribly guilty, responsible for the things the phantom had done and the damage he'd caused simon even before taking his form. the way simon looks at him sometimes makes him feel dangerous, but because of that he needs to be there for simon, to help him heal, to give him all the love he's been deprived of.

they have to work a lot on their problems, attend a lot of therapy and take some time off work, and, slowly but surely, learn to trust and love each other.

aaghdhs whatever these are just sketchy thoughts please don't be mean if you don't like them i will cry a lot and die

same au, three years after aa5 just like in the previous picture because. i like to draw them healed and happy. but i will draw more of their process.

...about that, however, i won't be able to draw on my computer for like two weeks starting this saturday, since i'm going on vacation. i really hope i can buy a new drawing tablet when i come back, tho!

thank you if you read everything <3 wishing you all a happy new year in advance too!

[flymetosnarryland]

A little progress.

I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.

(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)

I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.

Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.

I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.

So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂

Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.

I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.

That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Chapter I // Chapter II

Summary: Feyre takes some time to talk to one of her more reserved students, unveiling an adorable, yet heartbreaking Christmas wish.

OR

Rhys' little sister gets him a girlfriend.

Chapter III

Rhysand

"Avy, c'mere a minute."

She poked her head up from her dollhouse, and followed him out to the living room where a small box waited on the table. "What's going on?"

"Avy, do you know what this is?" he asked softly, opening the ring box. The blue stone winked under the lighting above them, perfectly polished against the shining silver band, waiting to be given to the woman he was head-over-heels for. 

"Mom gave that to you, right?"

"That's right. She said I wasn't allowed to use it until I was absolutely sure I had met someone really really special. To make sure I didn't waste it. Since she isn't here to tell me I did things right, I wanted to ask you instead." 

"She knew a lot more than I know. Why would you ask me?"

"Because, silly pickle, you're my favorite person in the world and I want to know that we're in this together. I want to know that this will make you just as happy as it would make me. So, be honest, how do you feel about me asking Feyre to marry me?"

She was quiet for a moment, but staring back at him with such hope, Rhys already knew he’d have the permission he hoped for. 

Two days later, Rhys had everything set up. Despite all of his sister’s pleading to be present for the proposal, he wasn’t going to push Feyre into accepting by bringing his little sister’s hopes to glaring light. He’d warned Avy that it was possible for things to be set back. That Feyre had to be ready too. And he’d meant it.

The winter and spring had brought the three of them so much joy, healed them. Drew Rhys out of his grief and doubts, given Avy a female role model. He like to  think they’d changed Feyre for the better too. Drew up her confidence when it came to her dreams beyond that little shop. She hadn’t tackled them yet, but he thought it was only a matter of time before her big chance presented itself.

But for all that happiness, marriage was still a big step.

A knock on the door drew him from his ponderings, and after shutting off the stove he went to open it. “Hey.”

“You really have to start getting comfortable with that key, darling.”

“I know. Habit, I’m sorry.” She stood up on her toes to kiss him. “Dinner smells amazing.”

“Perfect timing on your part,” he told her, wafting a hand over the pot of sauce on the sauce as she leaned forward to smell it. “I just have to plate things.” 

“Need help?”

“No, thank you.” He brushed a kiss against her temple before nudging her away. “Go pick a nice red for us, then get off your feet. The table’s set and I’ll be just a minute longer in here.”

“You spoil me,” she almost scolded him, a soft pout forming that had him running the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.

“Always, darling. Go on, pick something nice.”

Pouring two glasses of wine, Feyre settled herself at the table, a look on her face he couldn’t quite decipher as she watched him plate and garnish their meal for the evening. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. It was just a long day. We’ve had several new students the past week. A few jumped right in, some were a little shy. Their parents hovering at the tables doesn’t help. Makes me a little anxious is all.”

Rhys smiled. “I did the same with Avy at first. Give it a couple weeks.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, doing that before.”

“You had good reason to worry.”

Months ago, in a moment of weakness Rhys had confessed everything that had happened within the year. He’s he came to inherit his father’s company and fortune, the accident that wasn’t such an accident. The suffocating fear that someone would draw him into some dark game too, put a target on the back of the last of his flesh and blood that mattered.

Feyre’s too, if things between them continued to grow.

Miracle of all miracles, even seeing how easily things could crumble around him or draw all the wrong kinds of trouble, she’d stayed. He’d never been so grateful for someone to come into his life. Not since he was a boy at least. 

A soft ringing drew him back to his task as Feyre absently traced the rim of her wine glass. “Here we are. Hope you’re hungry.”

“For sure.”

They both settled in at the table, easy and light conversation flowing between them for the length of the meal. Any doubt about his plans for the evening were soothed the moment she set down her napkin to climb into his lap, showing thanks for such a lovely meal, she claimed before kissing down his neck.

“Alright, darling,” he murmured, slipping one arm under her knees before pushing back from the table and moving them to the couch. The moment she tried to kiss him, he eased back. He wanted her head clear when he pulled the ring out. And he was done delaying this. “Feyre.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting a greater distance between them. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured her. “I just need to get something out in the open before we—It’s alright.”

“Okay.”

He squeezed her hand. “You know things were on rocky ground for Avy and me by the time we started her classes with you and Ressina. Everything that’s happened since then has been a true blessing.

You’ve brought a kind of support I think—I know we both needed.”

“Rhys—”

“Just…” He sighed. “I never thought anyone would want me, well, for me. Avy idolizes you. We’ve never been this happy, Feyre. And it’s all thanks to you.” He brought a hand up to her face and she leaned into his touch. “Everyone has their own idea of how long to date someone before things can change. Grow. I kniw it’s only been six months. I wouldn’t hold anything against you if you say no.”

“Rhys?”

He pulled the ring from his pocket, hesitating when he heard her suck in a breath. “I know you didn’t expect this so soon. Six months is on the shorter side when it comes to dating—”

“Yes.”

He snapped his eyes up to hers, having looked to the side in his fumbling explanation. “Yes, it’s too short a time or—”

“No!” she said. 

He let out a shaky laugh. “Feyre. Say you’ll marry me.”

She sank down from where she sat, squeezing into the space between his body and the couch. “Yes, Rhys. I’ll marry you.”

Rhys grinned, slipping the silver band onto her finger. The next time he took her in his arms, he knew he’d found his forever.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

[misc-obeyme]

CC I'M SO EXCITED, I FINALLY GOT ENOUGH CONFIDENCE TO COMMISSION THINGS FROM PEOPLE (it's like three different people AJDJWJF)

but the prices are good, two of the people needed it for emergency money so it was a good push to bite the bullet and message them. I'm so happy, I'm gonna have art of me and Mammon (and one is gonna be a sketch page of me, mammon, and a friend who also likes obey me). Also i lost my drawing streak, but I just drew a bunch of random poses today for fun, so it makes up lmaoo.

anyway I am here to ramble about the job my mc/I would have in the Devildom! definitely got roped into working at the bunny cafe for one (1) shift with Mammon (the daily chat is what gave me this idea).

Not sure how the cafe works, but in the anime, Beel is working the bar lolol. So I always imagined it as a bar with some food, and you could request certain servers by paying extra, and obviously give them carrots or tips. Like a mix between a maid cafe and a club I suppose is what I'm thinking?? (...Hooters? I've never been)

anyway I totally got coerced bullied into working a shift (I am always caving when it comes to Mammon </3). And my anxiety is terrible, I CANNOT talk to people (it's a wonder how I'm a manager), so I'd definitely stick to bussing tables and helping run super big orders with one of the guys. Maybe even have Beel teach me to make some drinks, because that seems really fun. Basically completely avoiding any kind of one on one service.

And I think there's been chats or devilgrams about mc gaining popularity and having a fan club, so imagine all these patrons requesting me, and the owner has to be like "unfortunately - no." And then someone is like, "I'll pay an extra $100 just to have her" and that's when the owner decides to ask if I'd be willing. Because it doesn't hurt to ask, right?

And I'm like, "Ha! I'd do it for $250", and like, I say it as a joke, but imagine Mammon overhears everything. He'd drag me to the table and say my price, and to everyone's surprise, the demon agrees to pay. Now everyone is like 👁️👁️ interesting.

and now I'm suddenly serving a random demon, and I'm nervous as hell (HA), and I'd honestly spill their drink or something on them. The bill comes, come to find they tipped way over 20%, and wrote a note about hoping to have me again. Now I've singlehandedly paid back a big chunk of Mammon's debt.

now THAT would change my mind real quick. I would do anything for money, I'm so easily convinced 💀 like imagine how much cash I could make in one shift. Anxiety who ??

It ends up becoming a part time gig, and I become the owner's favorite. I learn the bar for fun, and can be requested as a server for a big fee. I'd like to imagine Mammon works extra hard to earn the owner's favor and begs to work the same shifts as me (little does he know I request to work with him bc he makes me feel safe, especially if people get way too drunk)

I've literally brainstormed about this so much, and I've still got more ideas rattling in my brain, SORRY IT GOT SO LONG AAA

- ✨ anon

WOOO!! Congrats, ✨ anon! You are braver than I lol! I've been trying to work up the courage for months, but I keep talking myself out of it. Mostly because I want to commission art of my OCs and I feel absolutely ridiculous asking someone to please spend hours drawing this silly guy from my head lol. It's a me problem, I'll get over it one day. Anyway, I'm sure your commissions will turn out amazing! I hope you enjoy them!

OMG what but I love this idea!! Listen, I have the social anxiety, too (it's so bad wow), so I get it. But I looove that you've got things that help you work this job despite that! Mammon and Beel to count on when you need support and of course the motivation of just... making money!

And it's so sweet that you're making the money to help cover Mammon's debts. And I love that both of you are like... requesting to work together and the other person is unaware of it. That's adorable!

I'm always going to recommend writing your ideas down! It doesn't have to be story-style, sometimes just getting them out of your head in some form really makes a big difference! Especially if it's something you've never told anyone or written down before. Forcing yourself to articulate ideas in a way that would make sense to someone else (even if no one else ever sees it) really helps to make ideas more solid. Then you can expound on them even more! It's a never ending cycle for me lol.

Anyway, I love all of this, I think it's fantastic.

For my part, I'd absolutely be bunny-ing it up at the bar with Beel. I like the idea of him making Devildom drinks and MC making human world ones. The demons that are willing to pay top dollar for MC to wait on them are also willing to pay top dollar for MC's authentic human world drinks! Now you're really rolling in the Grimm!

[fountainpenguin]

- Minor progress on "Kisses Full of Broken Glass"

- Spontaneous (and delightful) progress on the next Dog's Life buffer chapter ["Scatter By Sunset"], including changing a few plot points, so I'm intrigued by how it's going. Turns out when I was overwhelmed in October and needed that extra month for Chapter 42, that's because I actually needed 4-5 more chapters in between that and the plot point I was trying to hit :'D Dog's Life is not really what I expected when I started it, but it's my favorite and I like it.

- Sick all day (Visited relatives for two weeks, came home earlier today). Cold, tired, and hurting. Luckily I had nowhere to be except headed home (and when I got home, I was able to watch some YouTube videos and read a 'fic update I'd put off while at relatives'). I had a tasty grilled cheese.

-> I enjoyed Tango and Skizz joking about Skizz cheating on Tango (in his Hungry Hermit minigames team-ups) and in response to Tango getting in his face and yelling "Well, you cheated on me!" Skizz just casually replies things like "I know. It was so good" and Tango falls over laughing, choking out, "It wasn't even like 'No, no- Listen!' It was like, 'Oh baby, it was so worth it; I'd do it again'" and Skizz just falls to pieces, sldkfj... the juxtaposition. Silly. ["Back at Hungry Hermits with Skizz!"]

-> I hope TangoCam became dad to a new pet dog

-> He did not, but I see day-counter lamps

- Super rough outlines for some Neighborhood Watch AU 'fics I want to write (Yesterday, but still liking them today)

- Organized 44 downloaded 'fics today (All the ones from my FFN favorites). Making a collection of URLs next to download links because I prefer reading from webpages, but some of my favorite works have been deleted and I'm glad I can easily access their downloads from my same organizer sheet.

-> Not sure what it says about me that one of my most common filters is "Grief." Oh no.

-> Remembered how much I like some of these short story-driven favorites from my past (This is about SelenP's Fawful-centric pieces, like the one where Kamek and Fawful quest to revive Cackletta and shenanigans ensue, and multiple works of impeccable Kamek characterization... Kamek shouldering through the Koopalings' playroom door and yelling "Hey kids, I've got explosives!" lives rent-free in my head... I adore the Kamek-Kammy rivalry too.

-> Might make another sheet for my own 'fics (with download links) and post it for people to access in case FFN and AO3 go down unexpectedly someday, but not high priority right now (Thankfully)

- I'd like to do more self-indulgent one-shots this year, not binding myself so much to the 130 Prompts or my main AUs. I have a ton of things I didn't submit to Guess the Author that I'd like to finish, plus other one-offs. Mostly secret soulmates & Zombiewood, but. you know who I am.

- Listening to many songs for upcoming chapters, especially something that works for "Scatter By Sunset." Slow progress, nothing's hitting. Might be two too conflicting vibes for one song for this chapter, but at least it's low energy. I really do not want to split this chapter again.

- Mayhaps... song planned for something else could work better for "Scatter"?

-> It does not

- Funny to revisit some songs I'd used for Origin of the Pixies, considering them in a new light for Dog's Life. Don't think they work, but makes me go "Hm."

- So many animatics I itch to do, but it would be such a "small drop" of creation longevity (I presume) compared to what that time can give me for buffer-building chapters, and these 'fics are more important to me right now than drawing niche plot points. Might do some short clips for sillies (24-hour challenge or such)

-> There's a Total Drama scene I've wanted to animate Poof and Foop to for 8 YEARS, but I didn't have a good character to play the third part until Dev

-> "Other Side" is such a good song for the H.P. & Anti-Cosmo drama in Origin and Knots. I've have visions for ages...

-> Sorry for being who I am (Using break-up songs as inspo. for chapters about unrepentant kidnappers)

- Spent too long on this post and songs; tired. Feeling better than last night and hopefully better in the morning.

[siennadraws]

3, 14, 22 for the otp asks?

Hi Ronnie!!

You know this, but for anyone reading, I'm answering with Terys and Solas in mind! For obvious reasons jdjsjs

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Probably not clothes, but definitely things like jewelry, cloaks/shawls/scarves etc.

Actually, back in Inquisition, Terys did give her spare scarf to Solas. Whether he chose to keep it this past decade is a mystery ;). But the old sap probably did. It's in the same memento box as his Orlesian bard wig.

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Well, first off: they're very stubborn in their own ways.

Terys is definitely more of a team player, having grown up dalish, but also, while there was room for disagreements (they where even encouraged), her beliefs never ended up drifting far away from her clan's.

It makes them clash a lot (mostly at the beginning) but it's also what allows them to grow. Anyone else would have a hard time changing either of their minds about something. But since they respect one another a lot, and have the mental stamina to just die on their hills, eventually they do yield to each other.

Solas' lone wolf shtick, however, does annoy the living shit out of Terys.

Disclaimer: she is a master of pushing people away when she thinks it's necessary, so she is an hypocrite.

But Solas is the one person she'll never be capable of pushing away (especially because he does that with her already), and when he's around she softens up and stops needing to push people away.

Regardless, it annoys her a lot when he... how do I say this? Because he doesn't mistrust her, it's just that he walks the Dinan'shiral alone... when he doesn't trust her with uh... information.

If after Inquisition (ok, maybe some months afterwards, to give her a breather) he turned to her and explained everything and asked for her help, she'd definitely go: "Ok, I'm 100% with you, lethallin. But let's do this in the most careful way possible, together. We can find a middle ground."

She just thinks it would be easier for everyone if they just worked as a team, instead of two people who sometimes have the same goals goals.

Terys is also very thirsty for knowledge (insert pun about drinking from the Well of Sorrows here) and Solas is always happy to either try to explain how his magic works, or telling about this or that vision in the Beyond. Teaching anything really.

But Solas does love how much Terys loves and is fascinated by magic. It of course saddens him a lot too. Magic should be her birthright, by all means- not a silly little childhood dream she could never quite shake off.

What reminds each of their partner?

Everything.

When Terys goes to sleep and dreams as a Dreamer. When she hears any story about Elvhenan. When she sees magic, or a mirror. When she looks at her arm that's no longer there. When she sees a elvhen painting blending with the nature, or against an Alienage wall. When she smells something just like the oil he massaged into his locs. When she sees something as violet as his eyes.

When Solas is sheltered by the shadows that hid her oh-so-well. When he walks by a forest, reminding himself of all the stories about her life she told him. When he sees a raven, like the one on her face. When he sees any Vallaslin, now, he realizes, more hers than any slave owner before her. When he uses charcoal on his frescoes or when a small detail calls to him, reminding him of the drawings that filled her notebooks. When his magic glitters green, like the Veil, but miraculously, by some trick of fate, the exact color of her eyes.

[hereforlou]

bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

I was tagged by @dudeyuri to answer these BB related questions by @fiercynn Thank youuu <3 these are always fun but I often forget to do them u_u

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

I’m Maggie (Magui), from Argentina, in my 30s, just enjoying the creative burst this show (which I love very, very much) gave me until it petters out. I’ve been in a loOOooOOoot of fandoms under different usernames over the years and I tend to delete stuff from the internet without much warning, so save what you like (but don’t repost, please!)

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

I watched it from episode 1 as it aired and could feel the brain rot spreading week after week but didn’t write fic until the day after the last episode came out, and I don’t think I posted any drawings until one or two months later? But I have the first couple of doodles I made on an old sketchbook after the first ep! (note I needed to write their names to remember what they were)

favorite ship(s)

PatPran and InkPa

favorite character(s)

I really can’t choose so I’ll say Nong Nao.

favorite episode(s)

I have a soft spot for ep 11 - running away together to a safe place, both trying to understand each other, the silly guy scene, Our Song, the imaginary montage at the end, the memory of watching it for the first time and being sucker punched by the ep 12 preview??? perfect all around x_x

favorite scene(s)

Off the top of my head (and in chronological order): the trashcan scene in ep 1, the bus stop role-play, rooftop kiss, the last scene/montage in ep 7, the simultaneous parent confrontation and rooftop meeting in ep 10, the silly guy convo at the beach, the last scene with the tin cans on ep 12 ;_;

one thing you would change about the show if you could

I think everyone answered the same thing but the whole Wai conflict and how they resolved it (including maybe Pat getting shot, though at this point would it really be BBS without Pat getting shot?)

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people? 

I'll stick to people instead of particular fanworks, and only those I know for sure are on Tumblr so I can tag them, I'm really sorry if I forget someone!!

@architectxengineer @kit-teung @kornswasianguyswag @miscellar @dimplesandfierceeyes @yourunwiththewolves @icouldhyperfixatehim @fiercynn @charthanry @isaksbestpillow @pransobrave @faillen @jemmo @snickerdoodlles @alexshenry @nanons @mantrisanu

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

Have I shown you the fridge magnets I made over a year ago? They’re pretty wonky but I think they're cute, considering I don’t know what I’m doing

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol)

I'll tag the same people I mentioned above, if you haven't done it and want to:

@architectxengineer @kit-teung @kornswasianguyswag @miscellar @dimplesandfierceeyes @yourunwiththewolves @icouldhyperfixatehim @fiercynn @charthanry @isaksbestpillow @pransobrave @faillen @jemmo @snickerdoodlles @alexshenry @nanons @mantrisanu

[sroloc--elbisivni]

bunnyguard reflection

in the spirit of 'fuckit it's my own blog i can be sappy if i want to' as well as 'this took a year and 78k and i get to keep talking about it for at least one more day' now and here is the time and place for personal yap that did not go in the last author's note.

preliminarily speaking, i had this concept in mind before I'd finished either the usagi yojimbo comics OR watching Rise. i spent so much of both of those series fishing out little moments and choices by leo and usagi that made me go 'oh my god i NEED these guys to meet, i need to watch them bounce off each other.' I kept collecting snips of ideas, and dialogue, and encounters that never quite all panned out or fit together because this was just so much fun for me to play in. I had a lot of wanting to turn this into a real story but no concrete frame to build it on, and then in january i saw the year of the otp prompts go by. and went 'oh haha that looks fun.' it was even the year of the rabbit. and then i went 'oh!! what if i did VIGNETTES for these!!' and then less than three days later the Battle Nexus as political element of the Hidden City, complete with connections to the very different other iteration of it that we'd seen, fell into place and suddenly this silly little whim was an actual big project staring me down with an ambitious goal in mind, and I had no idea if I could pull it off.

structuring it as a month by month thing was something i'd never done before. it forced me to wait to find out what would happen, to keep building to something that didn't exist yet, to lay down the track while I was driving the train. and at the same time, it gave me space to grow, to practice putting together a beginning, middle, and end every month. and it gave me something to look forward to, and the excitement of dropping in threads that wouldn't pay off for months, and watching as it went to see what the audience reaction would be. were people getting out of it the things i wanted to give them? was i hitting the notes i wanted? i had the sketch of the year, but i was still learning what was going to happen until the moment the last word hit the page. plot and character choices, but also big thematic stuff! i described November's fic as 'the ten of swords' to Space and then went 'wait a fucking second' and realized that I could draw a connection, in order, between each fic and a numerical card of tarot's suit of swords. (mostly one-to-one --october straddles 9-10, and December loops us back around to the Ace of swords, for new beginnings.) i couldn't have done that on purpose. if i'd had that thought in january i would have gone 'no that's too pretentious and too hard' and avoided it.

also!! this has been a year of my life!! over the course of this series, i've had four different living situations (that lasted longer than a week), two different jobs, and gone back to school. i had to change meds, which was an anxious ordeal in 'am i even going to be able to focus on anything now?' the cat that was purring on my lap while i worked on the first few months has now passed away. this fic kept me company on the flight for my move to a different continent. it kept me sane in the middle of a very stressful summer. it's helped me meet and get closer to some really cool people. i can FEEL how it's made me a stronger writer.

and on top of all that: i am deeply, genuinely, truly proud of this series. i'm glad i wrote it. i'm amazed at how it's turned out. i can see things i would change if i did it over, but i'm glad i won't be. i'm glad this is the way it exists. and i am utterly blown away that there are people who told me they were looking forward to it every month, that they've been following it since the beginning, that they like what i've done with this place. this is the longest-term project i've ever done. it's the most words i've ever put into a single narrative. i can't believe it's never going on my wip rotation again. whadda hell.

i have no idea if i'll ever do anything like this again. i hope it won't be anytime soon--there are other things i want to do in the meantime. but god, am i glad i did it.

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

April fools

Substituting Horo's milk stash with either water that has white food colouring or buttermilk. Or changing the expiration dates to like a whole month ago.

Stealing Hella's pipe and making it obvious that it was stolen and make her chase to a dead end.

Everyone in the MBCC gets silly little plastic duckies hidden everywhere in their stuff for them to find.

Pranking Rime by replacing all his snacks and stuff with hay bcs that's what deers eat or drawing a lil silly thing on his face

It would be difficult to prank any of the ptn mommies but it would be funny to try.

Ohhh, messing with Irons medical supplies would be funny. Like. Nonessential stuff to be switched up.

Ill probably be back if I get some other ideas

Two contents in one day? Shocking! So I'm finally doing this a whole month later because.... well, motivation is weird. Anyway.

Enjoy your ptn pranks! They're a lil short but hopefully you like it anyway... I was looking for something easier to try and get back into writing, heh.

I switched the last two, to group things a little bit better by fandom... and I have no idea what you could even try to do with the Mommies, so I just did the specified pranks.

Prank #1: Substituting Horo's milk stash with either water that has white food colouring or buttermilk. Or changing the expiration dates to like a whole month ago.

Horo is. Not gonna be happy. At all.

If you switch them, she takes a sip innocently and then gets the most comedic look of shock on her face. If it's water she might recognize the prank and just swallow it, but if you switch it with buttermilk, she's likely just gonna immediately spit it out because what the hell is that

If you change the expiration dates she might not notice immediately, depending on when you do it... I feel like she checks them religiously when they first arrive, but after that, not as much. Truthfully, this prank will not work very well, because she either doesn't notice or throws out perfectly good milk. Listen. Listen. As someone who drinks a lot of milk. You learn to pick up on changes in it instantly. I promise you, if that is all she drinks, she will notice the second it starts going bad. If she's actively drinking it and notices the expiration date is that far back, she's likely to suspect the prank.

Anyway prepare for vengeance either way, especially if you swap it out. She's going to be a little ball of fury for a little bit, but after she calms down, she's going to plan a good prank for revenge, so... pray she doesn't find out it was you.

Prank #2: Stealing Hella's pipe and making it obvious that it was stolen and make her chase to a dead end.

Something something little ball of rage... sounds familiar. Maybe don't prank Horo and Hella on the same day?

She pretty immediately swears to make whoever stole her pipe pay dearly, and is intent on getting it back. Very little will deter her from this task. Don't even ask her to go on a mission until she gets it back.

Ninety-Nine helps her hunt for it, because of course she does. Which makes it even more nerve-wracking if you were to be caught.... good luck.

Someone will inevitably offer to replace her weapon, and she'll reply, as always, that she doesn't want or need anything else. Her pipe was perfect, and she will get it back.

The longer it takes to hunt it down, the more frustrated she gets. Hella does not have the most patience, after all... She's probably cussing like mad and threatening to use her pipe to kill whoever stole it once she finds them.

If she learns it was you, she won't follow through on those threats... but she will be dramatic about it, and will very obviously pout and ignore you for a day or two until she naturally gets bored of it. If you want her back to normal faster, bribes of money and candy will work... even if she insists they don't at first.

Prank #3: Everyone in the MBCC gets silly little plastic duckies hidden everywhere in their stuff for them to find.

Now this is gonna be fun!

The reactions range from thrilled affection to fury. Many of the Sinners 'adopt' the little duckies, and carry them around with them or craft a little makeshift nest for the duckies in their rooms.

Many ducks get names, and several Sinners immediately get customizing with paint and markers. Likewise, Hecate suddenly becomes extremely popular, after she logically begins to paint the duckies she found in her room to match the Chief and other Sinners. By the end of the day, she has a list of orders, a small mountain of duckies overflowing the basket beside her, and an assortment of things she's been given as payment, from money to trinkets to art supplies. She'll spend the next week painting the little ducks in a myriad of different ways, and she seems quite content.

Unfortunately some ducks are, inevitably, viciously destroyed the moment they're found... looking at you, Wendy. Poor thing thinks they're corruptors, most likely....

A lot of them don't really care, they just chuckle a little when finding more, and either put the duckies in one spot in their room or give them to other Sinners. Most of these Sinners keep at least one, though, because they are adorable.

Several of them turn it into a competition. I'm assuming that, in addition to hiding the duckies in the Sinner's rooms/belongings, maybe some were scattered throughout the Bureau.... well, now the hunt is on, and there's a massive competition to see who can get the most. The main competitors are Hella and EMP, but OwO actually wins. She claims it's due to luck, but at least a little has to do with charming other Sinners out of their duckies... and also being able to hunt freely while Hella and EMP try to hinder one another. She keeps them all in her lion's head.

Wolverine doesn't quite know what to do with them, but Pippy loves them. Cute little badger loves playing with them, and ends up with many duckie toys.

Nightingale ends up with a little duckie painted in her likeness (or at least, with her uniform) given to her by Hecate, and, in a somewhat uncharacteristic show of her more relaxed, fun side, glues a magnet to the bottom of it and sticks it to her shoulder, occasionally consulting the "Assistant Adjutant" duck for advice.

All in all a very good time is had by all, and this likely becomes something of a ritual for April Fool's Day. People used to go on Easter egg hunts... the Sinners go on April Duckie hunts!

Prank #4: Ohhh, messing with Irons medical supplies would be funny. Like. Nonessential stuff to be switched up.

Do you want to die?

For the love of god make sure Anne is around. She's probably the only one who can save you.

Iron detests her mania research being interfered with. She is very busy, and most definitely does not approve of this.

If she notices when she has time to spare, she will stop work and painstakingly reorganize her supplies. If not, though... she goes through with whatever procedure she needs to do, grumbling the entire time about the mess. And then she will fix it.

You'd better hope that she doesn't find out you did it, because if so, you're going to have to pay her back for this. If she finds out quickly enough, you'll be the one putting everything back in place, likely with a very grumpy Iron 'babysitting' and instructing you on where everything goes.... or, if you're unlucky, a simple instruction to return everything to its rightful place before leaving you on your own. Fortunately most things are labeled, but unfortunately, she is very particular and will inspect your work when you're done. If she finds out after she's fixed things herself, she'll insist upon you being her assistant in the future, which could entail anything from helping her move unconscious/paralyzed patients to doing strenuous tests as her sample test subject. Good luck!

Prank 5: Pranking Rime by replacing all his snacks and stuff with hay bcs that's what deers eat or drawing a lil silly thing on his face

He's extremely grumpy and will pretend this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but he actually finds it hilarious.

Seriously, though, he loves his snacks, and goes to great lengths to ensure that he never runs out of them. Waking up one day to find his entire stash not only gone, but meticulously replaced with similarly-shaped bits of hay and leaves? Yeah. Not happy.

He immediately swears vengeance on whoever has done this. And immediately blames Sage, probably, both because he's the prime suspect and because Rime just... enjoys the excuse to fight with him. Eventually Sage will convince him that he had no idea where the stash even was, and that he'd have stolen snacks long before now if he had, and Rime moves to other suspects.

He practically does a full detective investigation to find out where his precious, precious treats have gone.

If/when he finds out it was you, he'll be quite annoyed, but... so long as the snacks are returned, he will forgive. Eventually. He'll definitely think up a task or three for you to do to make it up to him, though... or, worse yet, he'll forgive you far too quickly and you'll spend the next week paranoid about what he's planning before he inevitably catches you off guard anyway with some ridiculously-detailed prank of his own design. You'll probably end up trapped and/or portaled somewhere, given enough of a fright that he feels you've paid for your thieving ways.

[happiighost]

Tagged game thingy (•‿•)

I was tagged by my friend @westmansion!! I love answering these silly things!

Are you named after anyone?

My actual name was just one my mother liked. I know my middle name came from one my favorite aunts. Said aunt has seen me off through lot major parts of my life and had my back. So its fitting

When was the last time you cried?

About two months ago, very uncertain of my future. When the path I wanted to be on didn’t happen. I’m gonna give it one more try and not give up yet.

Do you have kids?

No I do not! I wouldn’t mind having them one day in the far far future (via adoption or as a foster parent). I work with kids a lot at my job and they’re just silly little people with so much to say/share. 

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

With my family for joking around. Same goes for stuff at work with coworkers. It always pretty clear I’m just goofing off though.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I never really played or enjoyed sports much! The only ones I enjoy is biking or  swimming. 

What's the first thing you notice about other people?

Hair for some reason and clothing style! (a lot my friends like punk clothing the more think about it lol)

Eye colour?

warm brown. I do like wearing color contacts a lot though! I already need to my vision corrected why not have some colorful fun with it if I can!

Scary movies or happy endings?

I’m a horror junkie, I love all types of horror! But im also a sap for a sweet happy ending! I wont choose! 

Any special talents?

I dunno, does looking like murder scene whenever I paint count? I can climb decently well??? That mainly due to me being short so it's needed.

Where were you born?

I can’t top this response, so I’m stealing it.

What are your hobbies?

Drawing and painting (digital and traditional). Video games. Sewing, mainly making clothes adjustments.

Do you have any pets?

I have one fluffy boi! 

How tall are you?

I’m 4′11″ : (

Fave subject in school?

I like kinesiology and anatomy a lot. If I went back and took those classes sooner I might have changed my major!

Dream job?

medical illustrator/animator!

Alrighty time to tag! If those I tag don't wish to do this, feel free to ignore this post! 

@youngerfrankenstein  @wild-moss-art @kimikaami​ @fourspiceblend​ @hydrostorm​

[ikroah]

Wherever I have gone, wherever I've been and gone, wherever I have gone, the blues are all the same —“Blues Run the Game,” Jackson C. Frank (1965)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #23 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding II

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

Let’s talk about two things.

The first thing is burnout. It’s hilarious in retrospect that the notes on the previous issue open with an apology that it’s been three months since the preceding issue, which given that this current hiatus lasted six months, lmao. As I’ve mentioned before and elsewhere, shortly after completing the previous issue of IKROAH, the toll of working on it and other projects so industrially for two years finally caught up with me, and by May I basically had a kind of flip turn where suddenly, I could not stand my own art. More than that, I was repulsed by the very act of drawing, of making. Too many self-imposed deadlines, too many long nights churning comics out in as few sessions of work as possible, too many other things that I wasn’t giving myself enough time for. Something had to give, and when it did, I could barely hold a pencil for months without just getting really angry. I wish that I could say that there was something specific that I did to overcome this feeling, but there wasn’t: I can only attribute wanting to draw again to spending a long time not drawing at all, a time in which I tried to basically forget through disuse all of the bad habits that I’d ingrained about making myself make art. Art is an important hobby and creative outlet to me, but sometimes, you really just need to step away from something for a relatively long time so that you can come back to it with a much healthier mindset. And that’s what I’ve done. Thank you all for being so patient with me during IKROAH’s first real hiatus. There have been “hiatuses” in the past but, for example, one thing that I definitely had to strip out of myself was the anxiety and the guilt that I would feel when IKROAH would go on “hiatus” because more than three weeks or so passed between issues. I had myself on an absolutely insane production schedule for no reason except believing that getting every issue out as fast as possible was paramount. When I first began this comic with issue #1, I thought I could do one issue every two weeks. This was colossally stupid and going in as naive as I did with this mindset was like ingesting a slow-acting poison. IKROAH issues come out whenever they come out and that’s that from now on, and I feel silly because no reader of the comic has ever acted entitled to anything but that anyway.

The second thing I want to talk about is my art itself. My burnout had a point, especially with IKROAH, which is that there are some things about my art that is very frustrating. Did you know that the reason that IKROAH pages are the size that they are (1080 x 1678 px) is because I draw them two-per-sheet-of-paper at 13cm x 21cm each, and 1080 pixels is twice the width of the (possibly outdated) maximum display width of an inline image on the dashboard, and a height of 1678 pixels matches the aspect ratio of the best way that I could digitize my images at the time, which was by taking a picture of my art the best that I could with my phone in good lighting? This was the standard that I set for myself in summer of 2020 and for some reason I decided that it was etched in stone. I made some small improvements over time, such as finally buying a scanner sometime around IKROAH #12, and then changing IKROAH’s dialogue font and switching to digital paneling in #22, but this is going to be the final issue that abides by that old, absurdly small page size. I have finally reached my breaking point in this issue with how it completely prevents me from drawing fine or distant detail, so this is the final issue that is going to be at this size. Were it not for the fact that pre-burnout I hadn’t already drawn the first two pages of this issue and had formatted the paneling and lettering already for this specific size, I probably would have gone bigger already!

IKROAH has been, for the most part, an artistic playground where I’ve honed my skills and experimented with the comic book form gleefully. Compare the art from the first few issues with the more recent ones to see that development in action. But for all of this development and experimentation, why have I felt like page size is unassailable? I can’t tell you for sure what the “new” page size is going to be, because while I have a larger size in mind, it’s another experiment, not a promise of consistency. I used to think that it was easier and faster to work small because smaller art meant less art, but I’m finally sure that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Now, I’m extremely excited for what a much larger canvas will mean for the look of the comic, and for the rest of Volume 2, I’m sure that you’ll be able to see me experimenting artistically in some way with every issue.

Original Pencils

Unfortunately, due to the way in which this issue was inked, I don’t have the complete original pencils to share with you! I would draw and ink panels one-by-one instead of penciling the whole page first. This is because I my burnout was actually triggered, essentially, by fucking up the inks on the first page after penciling it and feeling sure that I would have to redraw it, and that making me so mad that I couldn’t bear to reapproach my art at all. I didn’t want to make that mistake again, so I went through the rest of the pages with a lot more caution. Still, I can show you some scans.

One major thing that made working on all but the first two pages was finally investing in real non-copy blue pencils instead of blue colored pencils. Real non-copy blue pencils lack the waxiness of colored pencils, making them draw much lighter, erase much cleaner, and generally behave much more like regular pencils that just happen to be blue. It’s been a godsend for my ability to ink more expressively, and I’m experimenting with inking and coloring styles are going to be my favorite part of the rest of Volume 2, because I think that that is something that I want to overhaul the most.

Also, one funny thing: if there was a significant reason why I made Benny’s suite number 1007, I have forgotten it. Just like how I must have forgotten in the writing and penciling of this issue that Benny’s suite is canonically on the thirteenth floor. Oops! Well, not in this canon it’s not.

I do have one complete pencil sketch to show you: IKROAH’s first ever two-page spread! Bang!

Transcript

EXT. THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS. The Tops’ signature sign shines brightly outside the entrance, brightly even for Vegas.

INT. THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS. Casino guests hustle and bustle around the main floor, checking in, heading to and from the cashier on the second floor, and mingling. Leaning against a rail overlooking the slightly sunken gaming area is AGNES SANDS. She stares intently and furiously toward the back of the room, where an older man is laughing with a younger man. The younger man is drinking a martini, wears a black-and-white checked suit jacket, and is oblivious to her presence.

AGNES thinks to herself as she watches him.

Hello, Benny.

Her eye narrows.

You’d think that getting shot in the head would be the worst thing to ever happen to somebody, but at this point in my life, I’m genuinely not sure.

On the casino floor, a RED-HAIRED WOMAN seems to accidentally bump into BENNY from behind, knocking his drink out of his hand. It shatters on the ground, and he turns angrily to face her.

When I was six years old, my father died from a bad fall. He was a caravaneer, so they never shipped his body home.

ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stands in front of Benny, clutching a nearly empty glass of whiskey. She raises her hand up to her faced, shocked and embarrassed. BENNY is just as surprised, and even more so when CASS takes his face in one hand and suggests that he come with her to refill her glass.

My mom was our town’s doctor, so after that, she decided to apprentice me as her nurse. I was still just a kid.

She was right to do it. It takes a long time to learn medicine, and it’s a useful skill. She knew it’d do me good.

CASS hurriedly leads BENNY by the hand toward the casino bar. As the pair brush past AGNES, she pickpockets BENNY’s key, and holds it up to glean the room number from its tag: 1007. Satisfied, she drops the key on the ground, and heads for the elevators. Just behind her, CASS points out that BENNY seems to have dropped his keys, and he reacts with relief.

But she was hard, as a teacher. Maybe even more so as a mother. Maybe she had to be.

AGNES’ elevator slowly ascends. First floor to the tenth.

Maybe I wouldn’t have started messing around with locks if I didn’t get it in my head to act so damn rebellious later on. I broke in somewhere I shouldn’t have. Found something I shouldn’t have. I was thirteen.

I had to put my own face back together right there on the concrete floor. Held it in place with duct tape, and two-hundred year old bandages. Pre-war.*

*As depicted in IKROAH #7 and the IKROAH Vol. 1 Special Delivery companion story, “Scar Tissue.”

Ding! The elevator arrives and the door opens.

I still can’t even shave without getting a cold sweat.

Back on the casino floor, CASS and BENNY have it it off. They’re smiling and laughing at the bar, several drinks deep.

Meanwhile, AGNES stalks toward Room 1007.

My mom was happy I was alive, but didn’t care whether I was okay, if that makes sense. She was always like that.

It’s why we fought when she found out about...me, when the changes from the hormones I’d been sneaking got...unignorable.

The lock is easy to pick for practiced hands. It opens with a CLICK. The door swings open and AGNES stands in the doorway, assessing the area.

I wonder what your mother would think of this. What she must have been like. Whether she’s even alive now. I wonder if she loved you, her baby boy, a killer in cold blood.

Eventually, we fought. Physically, I mean. It was a long time coming. I hit her hard, once, and that was it. It was over.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget what that felt like. Maybe I’m not one to talk.

Time passes.

BENNY returns to his suite and puts his keys in the lock.

I ran away to the NCR after that. I was an adult now, and had to start over. And I needed skills that my mom couldn’t have taught me. I thought I’d be a combat medic, out in the field. But no. No, no. Of course not.

BENNY opens his door, looking exhausted and covered in kiss marks. Looks like somebody really wore him out. He shuffles over to his bedroom.

They shipped me to some do-nothing recon station way up north in California, near Gecko. And from the minute I set foot there, my C.O. fucking hated me.

He abused me, berated me, blamed me, because I took his old friend’s position or something. Stupid petty bullshit like that.

I think that he was sabotaging my medical supplies. Messing with my work, trying to get me discharged.

There’s no other way he could have found my estrogen from home.

BENNY undresses in his bedroom, and then flops onto his bed.

Just another thing for him to scream at me about. Or it would have been.

AGNES enters the bedroom.

Never got any military police after me when I attacked him with a scalpel that night and ran.

Maybe he couldn’t cover up his own bullshit well enough, so he just kept his mouth shut. Doesn’t matter. Lucky me.

AGNES rifles through BENNY’s jacket, which he hung on a coatrack near the door.

I ran to New Reno. I’d deserted. The only job I could get was at a charity clinic run by one of the crime families there, and it was dismal. I couldn’t afford to live.

So I started picking locks again. Pockets, too. Got real good at it, too. You’d know.

AGNES’ eyes fixate on something. She’s pulled it out of his coat.

I was stealing to survive. Same dance, different song. Nevermind my hormones, I needed food and shelter. I’d never felt lower.

The Platium Chip.

I was casing one of the casinos there when I saw a man get glassed. I was still a doctor. Still had that oath. So I went to work, and saved the man’s life right there. His name was Yancy Bishop and he made my life a living hell for six long years.*

*IKROAH #12.

Until I killed him.

Something else catches AGNES’ attention in BENNY’s bedroom. Something on his nightstand. A gun.

He came to me helpless in surgery and I ripped him apart from the inside out, thrilled, exhilarated, terrified of myself.

AGNES approaches the nightstand. She picks up the gun.

And after that...I ran away again. Ran until I got to the Mojave. Ran until I fumbled into being a courier. Making deliveries, always running, but not a doctor anymore, not stealing to survive, just some stability in my life for once. For once. And then:

It’s the same gun that BENNY shot her with.

She turns to face BENNY.

You.

AGNES removes the 9mm bullet that she has been wearing around her neck since she left Goodsprings; a bullet made partly from the lead that was fished out of her own skull.

You are not special.

She loads the gun. As quietly as she can.

I’ve been dealing with people like you my entire life. My mother. My C.O. The Bishops...

...your Khans, McLafferty, the Van Graffs...have I killed more people in the last week than you have in your whole...

AGNES approaches BENNY’s bed. She gets one shot.

...was I the only one, Benny? And you couldn’t even do it right. I clawed out. An ugly life, too ugly to kill, even with a gun to my head. Your gun. This gun.

She raises the gun. She aims with both hands. Bodies are easier to hit than bottles.

Rigged from the start—is that what you’d said? You piece of shit. You look like you have everything, have been given everything. So you just had to rub it in, that night. Didn’t you.

AGNES scowls. Her brow furrows with rage.

Always been too big of a target. Too tall, too wide, too mannish. Never been beautiful. Never even got to be handsome, like you. Then you shoot my eye out, butcher me even more—and all for what? A mail-order tchotchke!?

The gun gleams in the sparse light.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

AGNES’ expression shifts.

I’ve killed so many people to get to you.

Her hands start to shake. The gun is heavy in them.

And...and now I’m going to kill you.

Sweat is beading on her face.

Because of what you did to me. Because I can’t sleep at night. Because of you. I don’t sleep, most nights, because of you.

AGNES grimaces as her whole body trembles.

So I’ll kill you, with the fucking gun you killed me with, then I won’t be so...

The gun. The gun. The gun--

I’ll...I’m—

Her eye is wide with terror.

Oh God.

AGNES stands alone in the dark in the bedroom of the man that she has planned to kill. The gun is in her hands. Tears stream down her face, frozen in grief. The gun is in her hands.

BENNY is awake. He has been awake. He is sitting up in his bed. He is staring at her staring at him.

The gun is in her hands.

AGNES fires the gun.

SFX: BANG

[clara02]

The Christmas Sugar Cookie War.

(Aegon Targaryen x reader)

Prologue: It’s the most wonderful time of the year… When you are not at war.

author’s note: hiiiii. The epilogue of the Christmas fic it’s finally here! A few disclaimers before we start:

1. This is a modern au, so things are a little different if compared to the show. Also this Aegon it’s completely headcanon, and not the same as the show. So take that into consideration before starting your read.

2. English is not my first language, and this is the first time I’ve actually written something in English (aside from homework assignments)

3. This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so I’m still getting the hang of it.

(Y/N) hated the Targaryens.

Actually… It is a well-known fact that everyone hates the Targaryen family. The thing is, most people hated them because of their money, their social status, how their empire allowed them to control the city of King’s Landing and their influence reached the entirety of Westeros, granting them impunity. It is an unspoken rule. They are in charge, and no one will ever change that.

(Y/N) however, hated them for totally different reasons. Every year, on Christmas Eve, the city of King’s Landing hosted a Christmas sugar cookie competition, allowing the families in Westeros to bake their original recipes and compete for the mighty trophy. Her own family had dozens of them displayed all throughout the house, and they were very proud of their winning recipe. But their luck changed twenty-one years ago, when the all-powerful Viserys Targaryen married Alicent Hightower. With the merging of the two families’ recipes, they haven’t lost one single competition, leading (Y/N)’s family to second place every year. (Y/N) herself, being a young girl of only twenty years of age, has been deprived of seeing her family in their rightful place.

Sometimes she wondered if the reason behind the marriage between families wasn’t simply to make sure they would win the competition. It was a silly thought, she knew, but Alicent and Viserys weren’t necessarily affectioned with each other and considering how the Targaryens took the competition seriously and how Otto was a man considered ambitious beyond limits, she wouldn’t put past them.

Anyways, the lack of glory, succeeded by the felling of shame and humiliation had started to get to her. Anger sipping through her bones. She was tired of seeing their shit-eating grins after they were announced winners once more. She couldn’t let them win this year. That’s why she needed to prepare for war. She was ready to draw blood.

And that’s exactly what she was telling her best friend, Myra Arryn, while sitting at their favorite café, clutching the cup of coffee so tight, her knuckles turned white.

She heard a breathy laugh:

-That’s what you say every year. – Her friend said. -You always tell yourself you are going to do something about those Targaryen bastards, and every year you do nothing. You just show up and hope for the best.

-I don’t do nothing! – (Y/N) placed one hand at her chest, offended by her friend’s suggestions. – Me and my family work hard for months improving our recipe. We sharp our skills and deliver amazing cookies!

-If you really want to win this, you need to start sharpening knives. – her friend whispered under her breath, acting like this was just some casual advice.

-What do you mean? – (Y/N) said, confused.

-You can’t seriously expect to win this fair and square?! – Myra looked outraged. – Honestly… That’s such a naive thought! You need to start playing dirty. Even if, by some Christmas miracle, you end up baking cookies that are better than the Targaryen ones, who guarantees those cunts won’t bribe the judge?

- They wouldn’t. – (Y/N) eyes big as saucers, shocked at the thought.

- C’mon. You give those fuckers more credit than they deserve. – The Arryn girl said, playing with the straw of her milkshake. – If you really mean war, then you need to start considering all your options. Really mess with them. You know what they say… All is fair in war.

- I thought you Arryn’s were all about honor…

(Y/N) heard her friend scoff at that.

-Don’t bring my father’s weird philosophy into this. That man doesn’t know how to live. – Suddenly her friend’s posture changed. Her spine so straight, it looked like it was about to snap. Her eyes livid, shining with opportunity. – So… Are you really going to do this?!

- Do what? – The girl’s voice sounding squeakier that she would have liked.

- Mess with them? Destroy your competition from the inside out! Give them a taste of their own poison.

It sounded like a bad idea. Listening to Myra always ended up in chaos. (Y/N) should know better by now. She should do what was right and honorable and…

She then remembered Daemon’s comments from last year, mocking her family and suggesting that trying again would be useless. How she heard the conveniently loud whispers coming out of Aemond Targaryen’s mouth, saying that showing up just to fail was simply humiliation.

How her grandmother looked so disappointed. And how her ten-year-old sister, participating for the first time, cried her heart out after the disdain displayed by her “rivals”.

Fuck being nice.

-What do you suggest?

Myra granted her a Cheshire cat smile.

-Choose a weak link and destabilize them. The competition is a group activity. If they’re not in sync, then BOOM, they’re gone.

-Easier said than done. Those guys are good.

Arryn seamed to stop for a moment.

-Go for the obvious one! You know… - She insinuated making a few gestures.

-Viserys doesn’t participate anymore, due to his age and condition. – (Y/N) said and watched as her friend opened her mouth once more. – Don’t even waste your time suggesting the big three. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Daemon might not see eye to eye, but if one thing brings them together it’s the satisfaction of winning. They are a well-put-together front.

Her friend quickly closed her mouth.

A few more seconds passed by, and Myra grabbed her phone opening Instagram.

-What about the Velaryon boys? I heard they are chaos walking. – She quickly showed a picture of Jace, Luke and Joffrey playing baseball in what looked like a backyard.

- Next to Christmas they always travel to visit one of their grandparents. Either that be in Harrenhal or Driftmark. – both girls exchanged glances at the complicated marriages of Rhaenyra. – They don’t actually partake.

- Well… That lives us with fewer options. Aemond is a rock. The guy’s a mystery. No social media profiles and a total of zero close friends. Even if we tried to destabilize the stone-cold bitch, it would be like taking a shot in the dark. – Myra took a dramatic long breath. – We could try Helena.

- It would be hard to get close to her… We don’t share common interests. Besides, she normally just helps with decorations and setting the plates. We would depend on a shit ton of luck. You said yourself. Shooting in the dark will only get us so far.

Starting to lose hope, (Y/N) sunk herself on the cushioned chair. She would probably lose again.

-Wait. – Myra once more sported shinning eyes. – What about him?!

Suddenly (Y/N) found herself staring at Aegon Targaryen’s profile. It was filled with blurry pictures of what looked like frat parties. In the ones she could actually see clearly, the boy sported messy hair, lots of marks on the neck and looked extremely fucked up. His habits weren’t a secret, of course. She went to high school with him. Never once she talked with the boy. Him, also being a year older helped, since they didn’t share any classes. But the number of times he showed up drunk or high to school was no joke. If he had any other last name, he would have been expelled without second chances. But Viserys always cleaned his messes with a good donation.

-This plan is a lost cause. – (Y/N) returned the phone to her friend. -I’ve seen him show up with what looked like the worst hungover and still, they delivered the perfect sugar cookies.

-No! – her friend practically screamed. – He is perfect! Look at this. The fuckboy born in the golden crib. The rich guy that never once took responsibility and now lives the frat style life. This type is so easy to break. Believe me when I tell you. They are touch-starved messes. You can make them fold fast; I have experience with the specimen.

Silence.

-I don’t fully understand what you are suggesting, Myra.

- Well, I’m obviously suggesting you make this guy fall in love with you and then break his heart right before the competition!

(Y/N) started laughing. An incredulous laugh. So high it sounded almost maniac.

It died down when she realized her friend wasn’t laughing with her.

-You can’t be serious?! – Again, her friends face was stoic. – For the Seven’s sake Myra. This is the most absurd thing you have ever said! Aegon?! The frat guy that doesn’t settle down is going to magically fall in love with me?! Guys like him don’t do love. They do one-night stands. Let’s call off the plan.

-Hear me out. This is the perfect opportunity! He will fall in love with you. And guys like him? Once their heart breaks? They don’t bounce back.

-This is the craziest theory I’ve ever heard. – (Y/N) motions to live her seat.

-Have you ever watched a Christmas movie, (Y/N)? Christmas time makes people prone to falling in love. They simply take in the setting and decide they want their lives changed. Every cliché Christmas movie that stars with a bad boy ends up with him changed into a nice guy.

-You are basically building this plan on your Hallmark movie knowledge? Maybe you should tone your pop culture faith down a bit. – (Y/N) says, still not convinced.

-Look. Guys like him?! They are lucky enough if they were hold twice when they were babies. They are touch-starved! They go for easy and fast satisfaction in the form of one-night stands, but they always crave more. All we must do it’s strip him away of the frat house mentality. With your sweet charms and nice words, it won’t be hard. Guys like him fall for girls like you. Besides, as I said, the Christmas environment will be of your advantage. You will have the perfect excuses to lead him into romantic settings without making your intentions obvious.

Myra saw that for the first time since suggesting the plan (Y/N) seemed conflicted.

-With help, this will be like a walk in the park. And I’m not saying your goal is to make him your lifelong sweetheart. You won’t have to fake it for that long. By Christmas Eve you will be done, and his heart will be broken. He will be so helpless, there’s no way he won’t fuck up the recipe.

-How are we going to get help? – (Y/N) asked, her friends enthusiasm getting to her.

-Please… We are not the only two people in King’s Landing that would love to see the Targaryens suffering. Bolton will be up, and with his stalking skills we won’t have problems. And for someone on the inside… I heard Val, the youngest Lannister, is looking for payback.

(Y/N) breathed deeply.

-It seems like we are all set then. – She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Myra suddenly energetic, standing up and making a toast motion, with her now watery milkshake.

-To Christmas War! Let’s destroy those fuckers!

[buoyfriend]

The WoL's Birthday - Choose Your Own Adventure Headcanon

My nameday happened this past weekend (7/1, Cancer baybeee~) so I thought I'd switch things up a bit. Below is a choose your own adventure birthday celebration for the WoL! Pick where you think your WoL would celebrate their nameday (and with whom!)

Note: The scenes depicted take place after the end of 6.0, before 6.1 with a little creative liberty.

The Scions - Sharlayan

Thankfully, the Scions are led not by an Antecedent, but by their trusty secretary and coinkeeper. She knows all, including the namedays of each member of your party.

The details are need-to-know, but given the state of the star's affairs over the last few months, you may have not learned of your surprise party if Tataru had shouted it from the rooftops.

Sharlayan was the most convenient place to meet. Not geographically, of course. Simply because you were already in town for some short-term delivery work.

Though he is attuned to both the Thavnairan and Sharlayan aetherytes, Estinien finds himself queasy at the thought of traveling between the two again. Yet, he makes the journey as it's too late to convince Tataru to hold the celebration elsewhere. Besides, he hadn't the courage to convince Tataru of anything.

On the morning of your nameday, you awake to G'raha already in your room, pacing before a banner and a breakfast picked up from The Last Stand. He had questioned you the night before, attempting to surmise your exact "favorite breakfast" without arousing suspicion.

You are positively spoiled with food for the entire day. Between G'raha and Ameliance, you find yourself slowed down with a full belly and the tastes of rich dishes lingering on your tongue.

Still, your growing list of companions who are, conveniently in town at the same time as you, insist on pulling you by the hand to enjoy all Sharlayan has to offer.

As the day draws to a close, you are brought back to a tavern, to the same patio that you enjoyed a drink with your comrades before your storied trip to the far edge of fate. Everyone, Scions and friends, leap out from behind pillars to bellow "Happy Birthday!"

Despite your best efforts, Alisae and Alphinaud get into the wine. It is quite a sight. Alisae has been disarmed, thank gods. Forchenault is aghast and would like to take them home to reprimand them, but Ameliance would not miss the night for anything. Their children are safely tucked under a blanket and put to rest on the sidelines.

Though Thancred has put away his flirting for some years, you see a spark of his old self as he leans along the bar for half the evening to speak with the bartender.

Urianger never ceases to amaze. He is as light on his feet as he is eloquent with his words.

Y'shtola's laugh peppers the air the whole night, her eyes sliding over to you in a silent acknowledgement of the silliness of your friends, of the relief you share in seeing everyone together again for a moment. "When all seemed lost in Ultima Thule," she asks with her eyes, "Could you have imagined this?"

Ishgard Elf Friends - Fortemps Manor

Of course Count Edmont knows your nameday, that's silly to even ask. He knows all of his children's namedays, whether he was present for the birth or not.

He is quite pleased to finally plan such a lavish event for you. Though he expected your blushing refusal, he insists. Though he knew you would say something along the lines of "You've done enough for me", he has already ordered a towering cake with your name written in icing of your favorite color. Yes, he knows this too.

Aymeric had planned to give you a gift, perhaps even to invite you over for another dinner. Still, he was quite pleased to receive the invitation. As soon as he saw the crest of House Fortemps sealed in wax on the envelope, he grinned, imagining your reaction to such a gesture.

Estinien had not been home for some time, pleased to think of time spent among his oldest, most cherished friends. After so much had changed, he imagined himself toasting you with a fine ale. He set out to purchase a gift, begrudgingly asking for Tataru's assistance as he remembered your pleading eyes as you begged him not to overpay for the last drink you'd shared together.

Though Artoirel is a natural at stoicism, he is not cold. He smiles to himself as he helps place the banner bearing your name in the sitting room, curious what you will think of his gift. He had spoken with many at the Jeweled Crozier who had done business with you before, certain that he had found something you would like.

Emmanellain is delighted to spend a nameday with you, truly. When asked, he was "glad that they have made a home with us, yes, yes" and trailed off to look at his pile of papers. He has rejected any requests to assist in setting up and has absolutely forgotten your gift. He has spent a great deal of time poring over the guest list, thrilled at some of the names he sees on the list. He would like to get you something, the party is tonight, he genuinely believes that he still has time. Worst comes to worst, he will make a show of his dance moves as a gift to you.

Lucia is somewhat pressed. Truly, what is one to wear to such a thing? Lucia is not one for these kinds of events. Still, she is glad to see you hale and whole after all of the profound experiences you've shared together, and she's excited to meet you not on the battlefield or in a strategic meeting, rather in a room full of warmth and laughter.

Hilda is quite prepared. Though she had not seen herself as someone who might rub elbows with lords and ladies, she's looking forward to making a fool of them all on the dancefloor. She is equally excited to catch a little more time with you! In all your time together, you've surprised her with your earnestness and your commitment to no class of people, but all of Ishgard.

Your Ancient, Oldest Friends - Elpis

For the life of him, Hades cannot remember why his trip to Elpis was so important. He simply remembers leaving confused, angry, but so much more committed to the duty put upon him as a Convocation member. He had not accomplished what he wished, and there was some period of time, at least two days, in which his memory was only hazy images. Still, he felt drawn to return, with you.

He proposed to Hythlodaeus and Venat that they meet you here at the suggested date and time. He scoffed at Hythlodaeus' suggestion that he had given away his deep caring for you, "A vacation to a beautiful place on their nameday?" he laughed into Hades' blushing face. Venat smiled softly, refusing to betray her own memory of how events had unfolded on their last visit.

Still, Venat dutifully packed her knapsack and prepared Argos for their journey. She smiled thinking of you in the present and in the future, changed in countless ways but unchanged in all the ways that mattered to her.

Hythlodaeus gladly played his part in the surprise, holding his hands before your eyes as he walked with you from the Aetherite plaza in Amaurot, asking what you can feel, what you can smell. Wildflowers, warmer sun on your skin.

Hythlodaeus released you from his embrace as you opened your eyes to see the rest of your friends. A few faces from your travels across Etheirys, a handful of Convocation members, your favorite neighbors from Amaurot spread out along the grass unpacking rucksacks for a picnic.

You lay in the grass, eating and laughing. You share stories for hours, eyeing Hades' grimace and soaking in Venat's laughter at your deeds.

The sun begins to set and the heavens put on a show for you, painting thick rose pinks, purples, oranges, yellows before it fades to an inky black, spotted with a sea of stars. You lay on your back, grasping a friend's hand in each of your own as you wish to have many more days and nights like this. Vowing that you might do anything to keep things this way forever.

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.