#i do not know how to draw veils 💀

[leafwateraddict]

Cleaned up some old Muse!sans sketches. And gave him a small but of lore.

I missed him :] also pretty sure I gave him wings because I was thinking of an angel statue at the time

[othercrossee]

Gonna overlook all those drawing ideas I got during exam week, thinking about swahartis

[defectivevillain]

turning pages (for people who don't care)

pairing: Felix Catton/Reader

summary: Felix Catton is well-liked by practically everyone he meets, from teachers to peers and strangers. He catches the gazes of anyone as he enters a space; he’s often the thrumming energy that determines exactly how a night will go. Felix’s name lives everywhere, from the pulsing rhythm of rowdy parties to the quiet whispers across the school courtyard. Anyone who’s anyone knows Felix Catton. As an unassuming student at Oxford with no particular desire for wealth, luxurious parties, or hesitant smiles from across a dimly-lit pub, you’re not sure how to feel about that. However, you soon find your quiet student life thrown into a whirlwind of activity when you have to tutor Felix.

The reader’s pronouns are unspecified, but they are written to wear masculine clothing. (I'm of the opinion that anyone can rock a dress shirt & slacks, but whatever). Otherwise, no physical descriptors are used; the reader's race and gender are ambiguous.

The title of this fic is from Drift Away, the Steven Universe song.

word count: ...7.3k. i don't want to talk about it. 💀 ao3 version

You enjoy being a tutor at Oxford. It doesn’t pay incredibly well, but the work itself is rewarding enough for you to forgive the meager wages. You genuinely look forward to your sessions, to seeing the bright gleam in a student’s eyes as they begin to understand the material in a way they hadn’t before. You muse on the thought as you walk into the library, heading for your usual table and arranging your materials. Your next session is in a few minutes, so you spend your spare time reviewing your notes from your previous class. 

Someone pointedly clears their throat and you look up, only to find yourself staring at another student. He has messy brown hair, warm brown eyes, and an easy smile on his face. He looks self-assured, yet there’s a slight sense of apprehension veiled in the way he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Hello,” you decide to say. 

“..Hello.” He responds casually. 

There’s an awkward beat of silence. Feeling eyes on you, you glance to the side, only to find a few people staring at you from a few tables away. They must be his friends. You shake your head and pretend not to have noticed, instead turning your attention to your laptop. “You must be… Felix?” You ask. 

“Yes,” Felix responds, amusement glimmering in his eyes as if he expects you to know exactly who he is. 

“Great, have a seat,” you say, not bothering to pay him a second glance. You pull up the email you received from the tutoring center, which shows the coursework he’s bringing in. “You have… a philosophy essay?” Felix nods, taking a seat and going through his backpack. “Awesome. Can you tell me a little about the assignment?”

Within a few minutes, it’s clear that Felix is an extroverted person. Moreover, he seems to be rather popular—several people passing by clap him on the shoulder as they walk past him. Thankfully, the gestures aren’t super distracting. Still, you find yourself a little surprised at the sheer amount of friends this guy appears to have. 

But that’s not important, you scold yourself. You revert your attention to his philosophy essay, which is off to a great start. Admittedly, he has a solid foundation—he just seems to need guidance working with transitioning between ideas. His citations could use some work, too, but you’re quick to refer him to the proper resources. Overall, though, his essay is well-crafted. You tell him as much, and his eyes momentarily widen before he averts his gaze, suddenly appearing flustered. 

You still can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched, though. It’s not Felix’s friends this time, either. You don’t realize how preoccupied you are with the feeling until Felix draws attention to it. 

“Do you know him?” He asks, just as you’re in the middle of reading a sentence. You pause and look up, following Felix’s gaze to somewhere in the distance. Sure enough, Michael is lurking in the corner of two bookshelves, his eyes nearly burning into you. 

“Yeah, that’s Michael,” At Felix’s inquiring look, you continue. “I’ve seen him around. Talked to him once or twice.” You admit. We’re not really friends gets caught in your throat. Admittedly, Michael creeps you out a little, but you’d never say that out loud. 

Felix raises an eyebrow, twirls his pencil around his finger. He seems to be in his element now, as he sprawls in his chair with all the ease and confidence of someone who has never needed to make an effort for appearances. “He seems to think you’re friends,” Felix remarks lightly. 

“He seems to think a lot of things,” you respond before you can stop yourself. Felix chuckles. “Back to your paper.” You say, returning your attention to your peer’s work. 

The reminder of the tutoring session is rather uneventful. Felix is skilled at writing, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s struggling simply because he isn’t doing the work. You suppose you have no way of knowing for sure. He’s made small comments here and there about his writing and why he’s here today—apparently his parents issued him an ultimatum and pretty much forced him to show up for tutoring. The session goes rather well, though—even despite the fact that he seemed rather uninterested at the beginning. 

“Alright,” you sigh once your time is up, placing a hand over the top of your laptop and shutting it ever so slightly. “Any last questions before we wrap up?” You ask him. Felix blinks for a moment. 

“I don’t think so,” he responds with a shake of his head. He begins to pack up his things, before looking at you once more. There’s a newfound conviction in his frame now. Felix slings his bag over his shoulder, pausing for a moment. “You were super helpful.” He admits, looking away as if the admission is difficult to make. 

“Good!” You say relievedly. You’re always thrilled to hear that your peers feel as if they’ve gotten something from the tutoring. Your own beliefs can only go so far, after all. Just because you perceive a session to be helpful doesn’t mean it’s helpful to the other student. You shake your head to clear your thoughts. “Glad to hear it. Enjoy your day, and best of luck with your classes.” 

Felix returns the sentiment, sending you one last unreadable look before walking over to the group that you had assumed to be his friends. They greet him with enthusiasm, evidently asking him questions about the time he spent working with you. Whatever he responds with must be intriguing, because the group’s gazes pivot back to you once more. You quickly focus on packing your bag, resolutely ignoring the attentive eyes burning into your back as you leave the library. 

Felix slips from your mind rather easily after that day, especially when your course load increases and your work schedule grows a bit more intense. You soon find yourself in a rather stringent routine, in which you go to classes, tutor, go to more classes, eat meals in between, and go to sleep. It’s not ideal, but you enjoy tutoring and your schoolwork enough to push through it. 

You’re walking to one of your classes when you hear someone call your name. At first, you’re convinced you imagined the remark. It isn’t until there’s suddenly an arm slung around your shoulder that you realize you likely heard correctly. The unexpected physical contact prompts you to look to the side, only to find Felix staring at you with a sheepish smile. 

“Hey, there you are,” he remarks. “I’ve been looking for you.” You reflexively stiffen at the thought, but the gesture goes unnoticed. Felix’s grip is relentless, and you soon find yourself being pushed towards the courtyard off the stone path and near a small group of people. These must be Felix’s friends from before. 

“Mates, this is the tutor who saved my ass last week,” Felix tells his friends, his arm still around your shoulder. You resist the compelling urge to shove him away. “Say hello.” He says to his friends, before turning to you again. “I owe you a drink sometime.”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” you say with a shake of your head. You don’t have much time for that with your current schedule. A hangover would be nothing but an inconvenience considering how early you’ve had to wake up the past few days. “But thanks anyway.”

“Ciggie?” He offers, his arm finally falling from your shoulders to pull a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. You’re suddenly hit with a strange shiver, a phantom sensation of the weight that rested there only a moment prior. You don’t realize that you haven’t answered the question until a few moments later.

“No thanks,” you remember to respond, ignoring his friends’ gazes burning into your skin again. Do they have nothing better to do than tear you apart with their eyes?  “Good to see you.” You’re quick to try to end the conversation, but Felix is quicker. 

“Hey, are you free tonight?” He asks. Somehow, he seems immune to his friends’ stares, as they’re all whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves. You resolutely ignore them and instead contemplate his question. 

“Um.. no,” you say, after taking a moment to recall your schedule. You need to complete some coursework. “Why? Do you have an assignment?” You frown, trying to think back to the classes he said he’s taking. 

“No,” Felix responds with a shake of his head. He gestures to the group. “We were going out to the pub.”

“I have an essay to write,” you remark, trying to sound disappointed. Maybe a small part of you is genuinely saddened at the conflict of plans, but you’re mostly just relieved to have an excuse not to go. You glance over at the clock in the courtyard, heart beginning to race when you notice your next class starts in two minutes. “I have to go to class. See you.” You turn on your heel and walk away, just barely hearing Felix’s goodbye over the nearby conversations. 

“Your tutor’s kind of dodgy, eh, mate?” Farleigh says. 

“No, not at all,” Felix responds with a shake of his head. The expression on his face is thoughtful, and his eyes are fixed on your turned back.

“If you say so,” Farleigh shrugs, taking another drag. 

You hadn’t realized Felix was so popular. Now that you’ve met him, you hear whispers of him all around the school. Everyone seems to have an opinion on him one way or another. You’ve only conversed with him the few times you’ve seen him in tutoring sessions and around campus, but he seems nice enough.

Classes fly by, to your satisfaction. Your last class of the day ends a bit after the regular dinner hour, but you manage to sneak into the dining hall and snag some food before the space closes. After that, you’re content to return to your room. It’s been a long day and you could use some time to yourself to just relax and breathe. 

Unfortunately, your suffering doesn’t end when you reach your residence hall. Instead, the moment you enter, you nearly crash into a woman waiting in front of a door. You manage to sidestep her and head up the stairs leading to the next floor.

“Hey, have you seen Felix?” Her voice echoes in the stairway. You freeze and turn to look down at the woman standing on the landing. She has bright red hair and glittering makeup coating her eyes. You feel your brows climb up your forehead as you realize that the door she’s standing in front of must lead to Felix’s room. You didn’t realize he lived in this building too. 

“They’re all at the pub,” you answer after a few moments, recalling your conversation earlier. “At least, that’s what he said when I spoke to him earlier.” 

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, as she takes a deep breath. “Do you have alcohol?” She then asks. 

“No,” you answer honestly. Felix’s friend stares at you for a moment, before huffing and walking away. You can’t find the energy to dissect that conversation, so you instead focus on unlocking the door to your room. You spend the rest of the night purposefully suppressing any thoughts of Felix and his friends. 

When you wake the next morning, you feel somewhat rejuvenated and well-rested. Your essay is more than halfway done and you still have a few days before the due date. The sun is out and shining, casting a hazy glow over the courtyard that your room looks out on. You take a deep breath, before changing and brushing your teeth. You head to the dining hall for a small breakfast, before moving to the library for your first tutoring session of the day. 

You’re not sure how much time you spend waiting for your peer to show, but you reckon it can’t be that long. It only feels like ten minutes pass before there’s a shadow passing over your vision, indicating that someone is standing over your table. You look up, unable to contain your surprise when you find Felix with a bag slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. 

“Hi,” you remark. 

“Hey,” he responds, placing his bag on the ground and sitting down. You take the gifted opportunity to review the information given to you for the tutoring session. It appears Felix has another philosophy essay he wants you to look at. That shouldn’t be too bad. You give him a moment to get his things out, before diving right into his writing. 

You’re happy to realize that he has used some of your tips from your first session. You already notice that the flow of his writing has improved, and his use of transition words at the beginning of each paragraph has aided in that regard. He has a few grammar errors—nothing major—and a few small citation mistakes. “Instead of listing all the authors, you can just say ‘Marks et al.’ here,” you point out, gesturing to the sentence that you’re looking at on the screen. Felix nods silently and adjusts the text. 

“I heard you spoke with Annabel the other day,” he remarks, apropos of nothing. You’re abruptly thrown off track as your attention turns from the paper to Felix himself. He repeats his statement. 

“Really?” You ask. Felix nods. “Sure, we spoke for a bit.” You return to reading his essay, confused by the sudden change in subject.

“What did you talk about?” He presses. 

“She asked if I had seen you,” you answer, trying and failing to multitask. You eventually give up on reading for the time being and address his question. “I said no.”

“And?” Felix prompts. 

“And that was it,” you finish. Felix still doesn’t seem convinced for some reason. You rack your brain and try to remember your interaction with the woman. It only happened a few days ago, but you’ve been so busy that it feels like a lifetime ago.  “Oh, she asked me if I had alcohol. I said no. Then that was it.” You must imagine the momentary look of relief on his face. 

“She called you prickly,” Felix continues, a mischievous smile on his face. You’re not sure what there is to smile about. 

“I’m sure,” you respond disinterestedly. You’d like to go back to reading his paper, but he keeps diverting your attention and changing the subject. Before you can even attempt to try reading again, there’s suddenly a hand on the edge of your laptop, pushing your screen down ever so slightly. You look up to find Felix watching you rather closely. 

“Who are you, exactly?” Felix asks. The library around you seems to fall silent with the remark. Your skin prickles. Why is there such an intent look on his face? Surely learning more about you doesn’t matter that much to him. Felix evidently notices you’re speechless and continues. “I don’t know anything about you. I’ve seen you around campus a few times, but that’s it.”

“I’m your tutor,” you respond, after taking a moment to collect your thoughts. Your heart is hammering away in your chest. “You don’t need to know anything about me.”

“What if I want to?”

“You wouldn’t want to,” you reply instinctively, warily. Alarm bells are ringing in your head. You can’t quite imagine a scenario in which Felix Catton, wealthy heir and avid partygoer, would ever benefit from knowing anything about you. Does he even notice how much attention he’s drawing, just sitting here with you right now? Even his friends are confused by his supposed interest in you. “I’m nothing special.” You try to look at his essay once more. 

“That’s not true,” Felix says insistently, getting to his feet and placing his hand on your laptop once more. He’s ripping your eyes away from the screen and towards him. There’s an indignant expression on his face, as if he’s insulted by your claim. You blink up at him in confusion. If everyone in the library wasn’t staring already, then they certainly are now. Felix seems to regain his composure, as he shakes his head and moves to sit down once more. 

There’s a palpable tension lingering in the air throughout the rest of your session. Felix seems anchored to his chair, as if he doesn’t want to leave. Eventually, you’re the one to leave first, as you have class in a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk away, imploring you to explain yourself further. 

You’re not sure what there is to explain. Despite your prior promises not to pay attention to the rumors and whispers of your peers, you can’t help but acknowledge them. You have to wonder if some of it is true—if Felix doesn’t really do friends , if he is only interested in people for whatever they can offer him. Truthfully, Felix isn’t a person you would’ve interacted with. If not for tutoring, you’re sure you would’ve spent your entire time at Oxford knowing absolutely nothing about him and being unable to explain the strange stirring feeling of dislike in your chest. It’s too late now, though. It seems you can’t go back to the way things once were—not when Felix knows who you are now. You just have to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll realize that there’s nothing particularly compelling about you. 

For a while, you don’t see Felix Catton and you are fooled into thinking he may have actually lost interest. You feel relieved at the thought. A small, traitorous part of you may long for the company he provides—the soft smiles he sends you, the glitter in his eyes as he speaks to you and only you. It was only for the best that you drifted apart, you think to yourself as you take an armchair in the library. The end of the semester is approaching, and you’ve taken every free moment to study and review course materials. Many other students seem to have the same idea as you, as the library has been a bit busier these past few weeks. 

You barely get to start rereading your notes before a familiar voice is speaking to you. “My parents were impressed.” You look up to find Felix standing over you. It takes you several seconds to process his statement. 

“With what?” You ask. Admittedly, you’re confused as to why he felt the need to approach you right now of all times. You’re sitting alone at a table in the library, and a few students are throwing you dirty looks as Felix continues to speak to you. You want nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear forever. 

“My philosophy grade, of course,” Felix remarks, taking the chair adjacent to you. You feel like everyone in the library is staring at you. When you look up, you find that a few students actually are—Felix’s friends at another table are among them. Felix seems immune to the attention he provokes. “They really want to meet you.” That surprises you. Why would his parents want to meet you? Because of your tutoring? All these questions must show on your face, because Felix elaborates. “They wanted to thank you.”

That’s surprising. “Are they visiting Oxford soon?” You ask curiously. 

“No,” Felix answers. Your brows furrow and he shakes his head. “I meant this summer. You should join us at Saltburn.” He looks at you expectantly. You don’t have the faintest clue what Saltburn is, but you guess it must be a name for their residence. Judging from what you’ve heard of the Cattons, Saltburn is likely a very large, very extravagant mansion. 

You blink at Felix once, twice. The expression on his face holds nothing but complete sincerity. You feel a laugh crawl out of your throat. It’s only until you see his face fall that you realize he’s not joking. “Oh, you’re serious,” you comprehend aloud. “Yeah, I could stop by.” 

“I’d like you there,” he confesses. You feel your eyes widen as you stare at him in disbelief. “Is that so hard to believe?” Felix asks, looking at you skeptically. 

Yes. Yes, it is. “...No.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Felix says lightly. It almost looks as if he’s forcing a smile. 

“You’re right,” you acquiesce, “I’m not convinced.” 

Felix huffs in amusement, before pushing himself out of the chair and sending you a wave over his shoulder. You watch him leave, unable to shake the feeling that, somehow, you’re going to be roped into visiting his parents at their residence this summer. 

Two months later, as you find yourself staring up at the splendor of Saltburn, you think you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. Then again, a summons from James and Elspeth Catton isn’t exactly something you can ignore. You tug your suitcase across the rocky driveway, before arriving at the gargantuan wooden doors at the entrance. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as you stand there. A few moments later, the doors swing open and you’re greeted by a man in a tuxedo—evidently a butler of some sort. He takes you into a beautifully ornate room with sunlight streaming in past ornate golden curtains. Thankfully, you’re not left to your own devices for long, as you hear footsteps echoing through the space. 

Felix walks through the doorway, his expression brightening when he sees you. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. The sincerity of his statement catches you off guard. Felix takes a step closer to break the distance between you and slings an arm around your shoulders, leading you past the butler and towards the edge of the room. You’re hit with whiplash—both because of the surprisingly heartfelt remark and the rapidity of Felix’s actions. Felix proceeds to take you on an informal tour of the residence, before leading you through his bedroom and the adjacent bathroom to your room. 

“Hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom,” he remarks offhandedly, leading you into the space that will be your bedroom. You assure him that you don’t mind and he grins, gesturing at your new room with a flourish. “Here’s your room. I’ll leave you to it.” He freezes in the doorway, pressing a hand to the doorframe and turning around for a brief moment. “We’ll be in the sitting room,” Felix adds, before turning back around and walking away. 

You stare at the empty doorway for an immeasurable amount of time, before letting your gaze wander across the room. The room is quite gorgeous, with an elegant four poster bed and detailed paintings adorning the walls. The door leads to the bathroom, which then connects to Felix’s bedroom. You’re grateful that he placed you near him—you’re not sure you’d be comfortable inhabiting a room on the other side of the house, with no one around to guide you. You place your luggage off to the side—after telling the butler that you could carry it on your own—and take a deep breath. Truthfully, you’re not really sure why you’re here. You’re only going to humiliate yourself here. You don’t belong here. Why did you even entertain the thought? 

You try to come up with an answer as you pace around the room, before finally deciding that there isn’t a clear-cut answer. You glance over at the clock in the corner, eyes widening when you realize that you spent at least twenty minutes just standing in the room and thinking. You take a few cautious steps into the bathroom, walk through Felix’s bedroom, and go down the hall Felix pointed out earlier. You quickly realize that you’re going in the wrong direction and backpedal, only to find a door left nearly closed, with a small crack letting the sound of conversation slip into the hall. This must be the sitting room. 

You take a deep breath, steel your nerves, and knock on the door. Someone remarks that you can enter and you do so, pushing the door open more and stepping into the sitting room. The television is playing, but everyone’s eyes seem to be on you. Felix is sitting in the corner and his friend—Farleigh?—is sitting near the back of the room. You don’t get much time to take in your surroundings, as you’re quickly accosted by who you can only assume to be Felix’s father. 

“Ah, you must be the tutor,” he remarks, getting up from his seat. “So wonderful to meet you. I’m James, and this is my wife, Elspeth.” You shake his proffered hand, before lingering awkwardly in the center of the room. Thankfully, Elspeth gets up to greet you, saving you from further embarrassment. 

“I suppose you’re the one we owe for our son’s wonderful grades this term!” Elspeth remarks, bringing you in for a hug. Felix huffs and mutters something about not needing the help. You feel somewhat inclined to defend him, for reasons you can’t quite explain. 

“Don’t give me too much credit,” you smile. “Felix is a great writer.” 

Felix mutters something again, too quiet for you to hear. His mother turns to him and asks him to repeat himself. He averts his eyes and you swear you see him flush for a split second. “Not as great as you.” 

“Well, aren’t you the flatterer,” Elspeth says, waving a casual hand at her son. Her gaze then turns back to you. “And you. So humble! I can see why Felix talks about you so much.” Felix freezes like a deer in headlights, before quickly leaving the room, murmuring about talkative mothers. You stare after him helplessly. There goes the only person that finds you even mildly tolerable. 

“We are very thankful for your help, truly,” James says, crossing his leg over his knee. “Felix has always been a good student, but this term, he… he’s been different. We’re glad that he’s gotten his affairs back in order. With your assistance, of course! You must show me your writing sometime.”

“Thank you,” you respond sincerely. “I’d love to. And thank you so much for inviting me into your home.”

“So polite!” Elspeth remarks, shooting a dirty look at the other woman in the room. You quickly pretend you didn’t notice that. “Of course, darling.”  

You’re left to sit awkwardly in the sitting room for a few moments. Felix’s parents ask you a few questions, but eventually their attention falls back to the program they’re watching. A shadow at the door draws your eye and you see Felix motioning for you to follow after him. You glance at his parents, who both motion for you to join their son. You get to your feet and walk out of the room, ignoring the sensation of a pressured gaze boring holes into your back. 

“Sorry about that,” Felix apologizes, once the two of you are turning the corner and walking down the hall. 

“About what?” You ask, glancing at him. “Your parents seem nice.” 

Felix just sighs and shakes his head. You don’t think you can even begin to truly comprehend the emotions behind that simple gesture, so you decide to simply succumb to the silence that spreads across the air. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon reading one of the books in the library. You don’t realize that it’s time for dinner until Felix is entering the space and practically dragging you along behind him to the dining room. 

“I hear your birthday is coming up,” Felix’s father, James, remarks at some point throughout the meal. You look up from where you’d been absently poking at your food. There’s an expectant look on his face. You have to wonder how he knows when your birthday is. You don’t remember telling anyone about it—except for Felix, perhaps.  “Yes, it is,” you agree.

“Have any grand plans?” Elspeth suggests. Her eyes quickly light up. You’re suddenly filled with trepidation. “Oh, we should have a birthday party! We could invite all your friends!” You freeze on instinct. You’re not the biggest fan of parties, and you know you definitely don’t have enough friends at Oxford to fill a place as big as Saltburn for a party. Felix’s mother glances at you expectantly, immune to your internal crisis. 

You’re saved from responding by Felix’s remark. “You’re not really a party person, are you?” He asks. His parents’ gazes focus on you and you nearly sag in relief, feeling the tension seep from your shoulders. 

“Oh, nonsense,” Elspeth remarks. Shit, you think. “Everyone loves parties! We’ll have to make it themed…” You resist a groan. It’s too late. Felix’s mother and father are already chattering about the details of the party, the number of people they’ll invite… You don’t want to appear ungrateful, so you stifle your objections and spend the rest of the meal staring at the wall ahead. 

When dinner is finished, Felix is the first one to depart. He stares at you pointedly and gestures wordlessly to the exit. You get the idea and practically jump from your seat, grateful for an excuse to leave. You walk behind Felix, pretending not to notice how broad his shoulders are. “Sorry about that,” Felix grimaces, his back turned as he continues walking, “My mother has a bit of a one track mind, sometimes.” 

“It’s fine,” you remark. You can survive one party. Besides, it may actually be enjoyable. You tell him as much and he seems to brighten up at that. That night, you recline on your mattress with thoughts flooding your mind, leaving you awake for longer than you’d like. Eventually, the curtain falls and your vision fades to black. 

When you open your eyes, you find yourself standing on the balcony of the mansion, overlooking the yard. There are clothes and discarded drinks littering the previously spotless grass. What disturbs you most of all, however, is the franticness with which everyone seems to be conducting themselves. You stare out at the wreckage that must’ve come from the party and take a deep breath. 

“What happened?” You ask Farleigh after walking down the steps. The expression on his face is grave and panicked at the same time. He’s wading through the pond and soaking his clothes, but he hardly seems to notice. 

“We can’t find Felix,” he responds, his eyes flitting about the area. There’s a horrible tugging feeling in your stomach as you realize that Farleigh’s looking for Felix in the water. Did something happen to him? You swallow hard and walk around the grounds, trying to comprehend how Felix could have gone missing in such a short time. 

Out of nowhere, Venetia screams. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine, you race over in the direction of the voice, only to find yourself running through the overgrown walls of the maze. You see Venetia’s blond hair and you quickly run over to her, only to freeze when you see what she screamed about. Felix is lying motionless in the center of the maze. You feel an itching feeling in the back of your throat, a burning sensation behind your eyes. Farleigh arrives and gasps; Venetia starts crying. You don’t know what to do, as you stand helplessly before your peer, your friend. James arrives and takes a shuddering breath, eyes glassy as he stares at the corpse of his son. For a long moment, nothing can be heard except for Farleigh and Venetia’s sobs and your ragged breathing. 

“We need to move him,” James announces. You stare at him in disbelief. How is he even functioning right now? He sounds eerily calm despite the gravity of the situation. 

Apparently, you don’t react fast enough, because James’s hands are soon on your shoulders and he’s shoving you towards the body. You just barely catch yourself from falling over. The patriarch grabs Felix’s shoulders and prompts for you to grab his ankles. You’re shaking. You can’t move. Tears sliding down your face, you reach down to touch the corpse—only to recoil at how cold the skin is. Suddenly, there’s a harsh sound and Felix’s body is sinking beneath the earth, engulfed by soil and pebbles—

You gasp and open your eyes, only to find yourself in your room once more. You try to breathe, but the effort burns. Sweat coats your skin and your limbs are shaky. With trembling hands, you reach out to the nightstand and take a few sips of water, before wiping the sweat from your brows. The sheets on the bed are a mess—you must’ve been tossing and turning. Your breaths are still laborious, and your chest is beginning to ache. You mechanically get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, standing in front of the sink. Your reflection in the mirror is grim—dark circles under your eyes and a firm pull to your lips. You reach down and turn on the water, letting the freezing temperature ground you in reality. Eventually, you reach down and douse your face with cold water. 

Once you’re finished, you grab a towel and dry off your face. “Hey, are you okay?” You nearly jump out of your body at the sudden voice. You wipe any remaining water droplets away, recognizing the voice as Felix’s. “I heard a scream.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” you mumble, rubbing a hand over your face. The water helped, but you still feel jittery and unsettled. You grasp at the edges of the sink and resolutely look down at the counter. 

“Are you okay?” Felix asks again. You finally turn around, only for your mouth to go dry as your gaze settles on your friend. Felix is standing in the doorway, healthy and happy and alive. It’s such a harsh contrast from the Felix you had seen in your dreams—a pale, frozen shell of himself. Before you can recognize what you’re doing, you’re surging forward to wrap your arms around Felix. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch or push you away—instead, he pulls you close with a hand on the nape of your neck. You feel self conscious for getting so worked up about a dream, but it just felt so real. You could feel the weight of his dead body in your hands. 

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” Felix whispers after a few moments. You nod quietly, not trusting yourself to speak. “I’m sorry.” He’s the one apologizing, after you made too much noise and woke him in the middle of the night with your terror. You just shake your head wordlessly.

You’re not sure how much time you spend standing there, Felix’s arms enveloping you. Eventually, the edges of the nightmare begin to fade away and your friend’s presence is undeniable. Felix is safe, you tell yourself. He is fine. 

Breaking away from him feels far more difficult than it should be. You immediately miss his warmth, miss the feeling of being shielded from harm. Felix’s arms fall to his sides, before he braces them on the bathroom counter. Taken in by the inexplicable urge to touch him, you place a hand over his and pretend not to hear his startled inhale of breath. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. 

“Of course,” Felix responds, a note of something imperceptible in his voice. You smile and briefly squeeze his hand, before letting your grip fall away. You wish him good night and head back to your room, pushing aside any lingering convictions that he’s watching your every step. It is much easier to fall asleep once you remember that Felix is but a few steps away, alive and well. 

When you wake up hours later, you’re relieved to realize that you feel far better than you did earlier. You didn’t seem to have another nightmare, thankfully. You prepare for the day and change into some casual clothes, before remembering that the party is today. You try to sneak through Felix’s room, only to find that he’s already awake. After he’s ready, the two of you head down to breakfast together. The meal is incredible, as usual.

After breakfast, you return to your room to find clothes on the bed. They’re clearly not yours—the fabric is incredibly luxurious and looks quite expensive. You glance around the room, but there’s no sign of the person who left this attire for you. Upon closer examination, you realize that it’s your exact sizing. You wonder if Felix’s parents got your sizes from the butler and ordered you something. That would certainly be very nice of them. 

Secretly, you’re thankful someone had the forethought to provide you clothes. You probably would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb if you had worn any of the clothing you brought from home. After all, you don’t really belong here. You’re just a temporary guest. 

With those thoughts in mind, you decide to unfold the clothes—revealing an elegant dress shirt and fine-pressed pants. The shirt is a fabric you’re unfamiliar with, and it shimmers as it catches the light. The color is quite beautiful—a cross between deep green and dark blue. Whoever purchased this outfit has good taste (or a lot of money to burn, or both). You’re almost too scared to put the outfit on, for fear of ruining the expensive fabric. Eventually, you manage to convince yourself to change clothes. As you turn to look at yourself in the mirror, you realize you barely look like yourself. That may be an exaggeration, but you still feel as if you look like an entirely different person—one who fits in here. You’re not sure how to feel about that. You had maintained that you wouldn’t change yourself to fit in at Saltburn, yet here you are—dressed as if these parties are a common occurrence for you. You take a deep breath and leave your room, deciding to walk around to get rid of some of your nerves. You eventually get roped into helping Venetia choose an outfit to wear, which kills some time. 

Before long, the sun is setting in the sky and the party is beginning. You have no idea where to go or what to do—you hardly know anyone here. You haven’t caught so much of a glimpse of Felix, Farleigh, or Venetia since the party started. You do manage to find Felix’s parents, and thank them profusely for the party. It’s probably not that big of a deal to them, but you still feel that expressing your gratitude is somewhat necessary. 

After that, you eventually manage to find yourself standing in one of the corners of the sprawling maze outside. You feel somewhat fatigued from the minimal social interaction you’ve had thus far, and you figure your absence won’t be a huge deal breaker for any of the other partygoers. They’re not here for you—they’re here for a party. The party just happens to coincide with your birthday. You’re not naive enough to think otherwise. 

“Enjoying the party?” A familiar voice cuts through the night air. You turn around, only to find Felix standing at the edge of the maze. He takes a few steps to break the distance between you. You cross your arms over your chest and try to hide how self-conscious you feel.

“Yeah, thanks,” you remark after a moment. “You?”

Felix just nods silently. He’s staring at you intently, his gaze flitting up and down your form. “You look nice.” He says after a moment of silence. His gaze is intense and you feel flames prickling up your skin. 

“Thanks,” you respond. You decide to mimic his scrutinizing gaze. “You too.” Not like that’s anything new, you think to yourself. Felix always looks nice. You’re given a reprieve from questioning that thought by Felix’s next remark. 

“Happy birthday,” he says.

“Thank you.” You manage to say moments later, once your tongue no longer feels ironed to the roof of your mouth. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” Felix murmurs, almost too quietly for you to hear. The night air seems to still around you.

“Me too,” you eventually admit. “It’s been… fun.” You’ve enjoyed this summer, enjoyed the time you’ve gotten to spend with Felix. You never would’ve expected yourself to enjoy spending time in a place like Saltburn, yet here you are. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Felix admits. He’s looking up to the midnight sky as if it holds all the answers. The black wings on his back seem to gleam in the moonlight. He looks like a fallen angel. 

“Why?” You ask. 

Felix is staring at you as if the answer to that question is extremely obvious. He then rubs a hand over his face, before turning to face the statue in the courtyard. The wings extending from his turned back create a harsh silhouette on the grass. “Why do you think I brought you here?” He suggests. 

“Your parents wanted me here,” you recount. 

“No,” Felix sighs, “Yes, but… no. That’s not the main reason.” You wait for him to continue. Somehow, this admission seems to be torturing him. He keeps pacing around restlessly, as if unable to keep still. Eventually, he shakes his head and comes to a stop, meeting your eyes. 

“I wanted to get to know you better,” Felix admits. “I hoped that, once I got to know you, everything else would go away.” Everything else?  He continues, immune to your confusion and wariness. “It didn’t. You came here, and now, the more I get to know you, the more I want to be around you.”

“Why?” You feel yourself blurting out. The words are spilling from your lips uncontrollably. “I’m just a normal student, an average person.”

“You’re far from it,” Felix argues. “And you should know that by now. You have to know by now.” 

“Know…  what?” You dare to say. 

Felix puts a hand over his face, evidently trying to gather his thoughts. You keep silent, despite your heart drumming quickly in your chest.  “I have feelings for you,” he says. “Nearly this entire time, I’ve had feelings for you. All throughout this summer.” 

Felix has feelings for you? Surely that can’t be the case. Hell, he could have anyone he wanted. He’s almost constantly showered in attention and praise. Why would he want to be with you of all people? You have virtually nothing to offer him that could be useful: you’re not wealthy, nor are you a regular partygoer with a penchant for trouble. You’re just… you. 

“You’re the only person that has ever bothered to try to get to know me for me,” Felix explains, as if sensing your self-deprecating thoughts. “Not as the eldest son of the Cattons. Just as Felix.” 

“You don’t buy into any of this bullshit,” he continues, his eyes wandering across the walls of the maze. You immediately know he’s referring to the splendor of Saltburn, the unspoken expectations that nearly suffocate the air around you. Felix inhales slowly. “Not to mention, you’re wicked smart. Compassionate. Attractive.”

He’s taking a step towards you. Then another. You don’t stop him, and he pauses in front of you. You don’t think you’ve seen his eyes sparkle like this before. 

“Can I kiss you?” Felix asks, his hand slowly rising to break the air between you and fall to cradle your jaw. 

You nod wordlessly. For an awkward moment, neither of you move. Felix looks uncharacteristically hesitant. You huff a laugh and break the distance between you, putting your lips to his. 

In a few moments, Farleigh and Venetia will come across the both of you and you will each be teased relentlessly for the rest of the night. Felix’s parents will exchange knowing looks when Felix and you walk into breakfast the next morning hand in hand. And Duncan, the butler, will have a wry curve to his lips—an almost indistinguishable smile—to show his hard-won approval. For now, though, you are left to embrace Felix under the shimmering moonlight, surrounded by a labyrinth of hedges and gilded mansion walls that no longer look nearly as intimidating as they once did.

whewww! i really got carried away there, didn't i? i just adore the idea of Felix being bewildered by someone not falling head over heels for him. like, the irony of him catching feelings for the *one* person who doesn't actually seem to like him... it's just too good.

i *could* write a farleigh/reader fic... so lmk if that's something y'all would want to see. no promises, though. (if i were able to write it, it would probably be much shorter than this fic, bc this one absolutely ran away from me).

anyway, hope you enjoyed this! thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall

[k9offline]

🦴 INTRO

last edited: 22/08/24

Welcome to my kin blog! Heres some stuff to get to know me, my identity & my blog. I'd prefer if you read this before following me, but im not ur dad. Just know i block freely.

ABOUT ME

🍁 You can call me Red! Or my real name, if you know it. Im an autistic 16 year old guy (he/it) and i identify mostly as a canine cladotherian— But i have other identities. Im also goth & scenemo, which isnt important but i wanted to say it lmao

🍁 I am brazilian american (1st generation) but ive never been to the USA despite this, and i am self taught in english so im sorry if i fuck up 💀 im also learning french though i heavily dislike it.

🍁 I have a mate and he is the goat (hes a cat actually) and he does not post at all but you should still follow him @vampiresvanity

🍁 I love getting new mutuals!! please ask to be my mutual i probably will never say no. and feel free to dm me as long as youre under 25

🍁 i follow from @120red

MORE

fandoms: homestuck, warrior cats, furry, scott pilgrim, pokemon, etc

games: wolfquest, planet zoo, the wolf among us, rdr2, transformice, stardew valley, brawl stars

books: dracula, frankenstein, owls of ga'hoole, wings of fire, watership down

music: my chemical romance, modern baseball, lapfox trax, pierce the veil, insane clown posse, korn, the cure, scary bitches, s3rl, yaelokre, sublime, etc

movies & shows: wolfwalkers, how to train your dragon, wolfblood, MTV downtown, invader zim, the lion king, oliver & company, bunnicula, animaniacs, sweet tooth, etc

collectibles: littlest pet shop, charlie bears, plushies, feathers, crystals, model horses, random ass trinkets

IDENTITY

╰┈➤ KEY:

★ = spiritual

☆ = psychological

✮ = physical

𖤐 = all of the above

✦ = heartype

✰ = copinglink

? = still figuring it out

🥩 Dhole (Cuon Alpinus) 𖤐

🥩 Wolf (Canis Lupus) 𖤐?

↳ 🦴 Sea Wolf

↳ 🦴 Yellowstone Wolf

🥩 Wolfdog (Canis Lupus x Canis Lupus Familiaris) ☆✮

🥩 Werewolf ☆✮

🥩 American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) ✦

🥩 Dog (Canis Lupus Familiaris) ?

↳ 🦴 English Cocker Spaniel ✦

↳ 🦴 Border Collie 𖤐

🥩 Black Flying Fox (Pteropus alecto) ✰

Im also dave strider from homestuck and fan from inanimate insanity but i do not talk about it much here

BLOG

this blog is where i post mostly about alterhumanity! this may be my experiences, tips for others, aesthetic shit and bla bla bla. its mostly just a space for me to be open about it.

WILL BLOCK: antikin, anti agere/petre, proshippers & comshippers, zoos, kink/nsfw accounts

THIN ICE: kin-for-fun, non alterhumans in general

BYF: i curse a lot. i change my pfp based on the 'type i feel most connected with. thats practically it lol

TAGS

#info :: information about me/my blog

#favs :: favorite posts

#asks :: answering asks

#howls :: stuff about alterhumanity

#barks :: random unimportant posts

#wags :: stuff that made me happy

#wholewolf-reblogs :: reblogs

#my art :: drawings i make

#stuffs :: misc things i make

#moodboards :: moodboards. duh

#home :: hearthomes & nature pics

#me if u even care :: 'type pics lol

pixel gifs by @bugsb1te

[xruiiii-blog]

Hi I’m literally obsessed with this au

I have a couple questions I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you but I’ve been analyzing this comic for way too long

Who is leading mountain to be killed? Who is getting crowned? Why is mountain being killed? Are the rest of the knights/other portraits other ghouls? Who is helping phantom unbury him? Is phantom unveiling him at the end?

I’m so sorry I’m obsessed, your art is amazing and thank you for your time

Thanks for the time and energy you invested into this!!! Wow! I might disappoint you after this haha. But u know! Always analyze and believe in whatever you think it’s the best explanation! I love when ppl have their own understanding of a piece :) that’s why there’s no dialogue

Anyway about the comic…

It supposed to be a simple “once upon a time” kinda thing. A bedtime tell, someone’s small piece of memory, a casual story that’s melancholy. Nobody’s really important, except the little prince and his knight. There’s no deeper meaning other than the lonely prince lost the only person he cares about to a war.

Something about the titan knights is that they don’t care about their identity. Their powers and skills are the things that matters. That’s their identity instead of who that person is under that mask. They are weapons and they like to keep it that way. Meaning that if any one of them dies during the war, a weapon has served its purpose. The others will move on and there’s no sorrow. I don’t want to talk too much about different species lore here it���s a lot…maybe next time :)

However, the two anonymous knights are rather closer to Mountain and Phantom than everyone else. They are also more human-like. They are more sentimental than some others on the team. It’s not anyone’s fault that the titans are this way btw, it’s just how things is. These two knights care about phantom more than the others does spiritually, they kinda understand how close their captain was to the prince and what Mountain meant to him. So they take him to Mount. Usually titans don’t even take the dead body back with them. It’s not like they don’t care, they do, but to them dead body it’s meaningless. No longer serve any purpose. Titans don’t ever grieve, mourn, or anything.

Phantom does. Be glad that he’s even able to contact with the corpse one last time cuz a lot of times soldier’s grave is just an empty tomb. That’s also why he digs. He needs to see it himself in order to let go. He places the veil back to place and sees what he’s familiar with for his whole life. The mere illusion that Mount is still with him.

…

Honestly this whole thing came to me at 2am and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I feel like its more of a vibe, very vague story and fear of death I didn’t executed it the way I wish I could (skill issue…) anyway my first actual try at drawing comics and it took me 2 miserable weeks(it was okay). I shared this before I have concentrate issue my attention span is short💀…ngl the process it’s challenging and I wasn’t expecting ppl to understand what’s happening or even read it. I didn’t expect myself to finish the whole thing even lol. Glad you like it and look at it with these much appreciation AND letting me know!!! :)) that’s what I was tryna say. 🖤🖤🫶🫶🫶

[nerdanel01]

Okay, so Agnes, Emmrich and the Veilfuard squad are now supposed to be helping with the unstable Veil down in the Neceopolis, right?

...

Have we considered what happens when Varric, inevitably, decides to visit the Necropolis and check up on their field work, discovers the Agnes/Emmrich unresolved tension and starts dropping hints that he'll feature their divorce drama IN HIS NEXT BOOK?

What would be Agnes, Emmrich and Johana's reactions to THAT, I wonder???

Have a great day 💚💀

Inquisitor + Rook, 600+ wc below the cut *very slightly spoilers for the unwritten conclusion of There Is Only Forward if that matters to anyone

It occurred to Agnes that this might be the last time she set foot in the Lighthouse. Ghilan’nain was once again imprisoned, Elgar’nan defeated. Though she had welcomed this conclusion—longed for it, even, in moments when she was not sure she would live to see it—she could not deny the fact that something about it made her sad. She had spent over two decades in the Grand Necropolis without making any real connections to her fellow Watchers, save of course Emmrich; in less than two years, she had become so attached to the other members of the Veilguard that the idea of them all going their separate ways was tugging terribly at her heartstrings. After they finished cleaning out the Lighthouse, packed their things and departed, Agnes was not sure she would ever see any of them again.

It was in this state of melancholy that former-Inquisitor Lavellan found her, sifting through the various personal effects strewn across the Lighthouse common room, sorting things into piles: a bottle of fine Antivan brandy that no doubt had come from Taash; drawings and schematics in Bellara’s hand of ancient elvhen artifacts; Davrin’s whittling knife and the not-quite-finished carving of Assan he’d been carefully chipping away at, night after night. So engrossed was Agnes in her task that she did not hear Thanduwen approach.

“I have something for you," she said, easing herself into the green, tufted sofa beside Agnes.

Agnes furrowed her brows, took the brown-paper-wrapped parcel out of Thanduwen’s hand. "How kind. And how… unexpected.” There was no animosity between her and Thanduwen, but they had not exactly become close.

“Well, I didn’t think Varric had told you,” Thanduwen said as she leaned back on the sofa, propping herself up on what remained of her left upper arm and draping the right casually across her lap. “I figured you ought to know, now that everything is over.”

What did this have to do with Varric? The furrow between Agnes’ brows only deepened as she slipped her fingers beneath the paper, tore the parchment away to reveal… a book. Varric’s latest publication, it seemed, from the way his name was stamped in gold-embossed letters on the book’s spine and the bottom of the front cover. Perhaps out of denial and disbelief, it took her a moment to recognize the black haired figure on the cover (the illustrator had taken liberties, made her much more buxom than she was in real life) and the silver-haired gentleman behind her, who was all-too-sensually sliding the sleeves of the woman’s blouse past her bare shoulders. The title on the cover, also embossed in gold:

Romancing Rook.

“Wendy,” Agnes began, fighting to keep her voice calm, “what the fuck is this?”

Thanduwen let out a little sigh. “Inevitable, I’m afraid. Varric did tell you he was working on it, didn’t he?”

“Varric says a lot of things,” Agnes said, through gritted teeth, opening the cover and flipping through the pages, “most of them lies. I didn’t think he was telling the truth, didn’t think he’d actually do it. He writes detective stories, adventure novels…” Her eyes went wide and her stomach dropped through the floor. “There’s smut in here!”

“But not falsehoods,” Thanduwen said, unhelpfully. “As far as I am aware, Varric did not write anything that your other companions would not confirm to be true. You were not particularly secretive about your affair. And based on what little time I spent in the Lighthouse, you weren’t exactly quiet about it, either.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agnes said, with exaggerated sarcasm. “It didn’t occur to me at the time that anything Davrin might have overheard in the late hours of the night—“

“And often in the morning,” Thanduwen interjected. “And sometimes, time permitting, the afternoon as well.”

“—that does not mean I thought it was going to end up in mass-produced paperback!” Agnes slammed the book shut and set it down on the table, raising forefinger and thumb to pinch the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t even the smut that bothered her, really. It was the idea that this might turn her into more of a celebrity than she already was—and she did not care for what little notoriety she had already gained. Worse still if the book made her out to be some kind of sex symbol. “Were you secretive and quiet about it, when you were with Solas?”

“No,” Thanduwen said, with a chuckle. “But Skyhold was a lot bigger than the Lighthouse; I had a whole tower to myself. And thank the Creators, really—” she stopped, shook her head, corrected herself: “sorry, forgive me, old habit—because it was hard enough for Leliana to convince the rest of the Chantry to let me be her Left Hand, after everything that happened at the Exalted Council.” An amused smile played about her lips as she adde, “If there had been a scene of me pegging Solas in All This Shit Is Weird, I doubt even the Divine would have been able to redeem my reputation in the eyes of the Chantry.”

That was more information about Solas than Agnes had ever cared to know. She hunched over, propping her elbows on her knees, running her hands through her hair. “When I get my hands on that dwarf…”

"You will not lay a finger on him," Thanduwen replied, sweetly. “Not without going through me.” Despite the threat, still she reached out, offering Agnes a sympathetic pat on her back before she rose off the couch. “Anyway, share it with Emmrich. You may be upset about it, but I doubt he will be.”

That had her eyes flying open, her head snapping back up to look at Thanduwen. “What is that?” 

“Did I stutter?” Thanduwen replied, grin widening. “He had no problem sending you down to breakfast bowlegged more mornings than not, from what I hear. Somehow I think this might please him tremendously.” Tapping her fingers on the book cover, she concluded, “Chapter 14 is especially titillating. You can tell him to just start there.”

—---------

Johanna would read the whole thing in one sitting and then buy extra copies to leave around the Necropolis for the rest of the Mourn Watch to find. She would probably also write to Varric’s publisher to see if she was entitled to royalties because, quote, “I love them but those two are idiots and none of that shit would have happened without me.”

[kirathehyrulian]

Non-Challenge Art: 🔥🏚️Cinnamon Dust🏚️🔥

(Please do not edit/alter. Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost. At the very least, please give me credit.)

Description: Female Lucifer!Sam dressed in a white wedding dress and rose flower crown with lace veil, holding a bouquet, standing on a cliff edge above a dilapidated burning city.

(For better viewing on desktop, click the image, then right click the enlarged image, and then click “open image in new tab”.)

For more stuff from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr or my AO3.

👇( wip screenshots and notes below the cut) 👇

For more detailed notes: [AO3 link]

Art Notes: For a long while I've wanted to try my hand at female Sam. So, I started this attempt last year in early November and worked on it till late December. Then I just couldn't work on it anymore. It wasn't until late June this year that I started feeling hopeful about this work again.

I'm a little worried I might have squashed instead of cultivated my art drive some more, because I struggled to finish this. But oh well. I'm done working on this. I did what I could muster and I accept the end results. I kind of want to make a Female Michael!Dean companion piece... but I don't know how likely that it for me to do.

WIP Screenshots:

Nov 1-Dec 29 then June 19-July 6th. So, 77-ish days working on and off this.

The references I looked at while drawing: Tumblr- Fem!Sam/Jared face app pics Google Images- og Jared/Sam pics Adrianne Palicki pics (mostly the ones with her wearing a red dress) women in wedding dresses holding bouquets women in high heels fire dystopian cities cliff edges

Musical inspiration: Lana Del Rey- Cinnamon Girl Lana Del Rey- Burning Desire Lana Del Rey- Body Electric I Monster- Who is She? Egzod & Maestro Chives - Royalty ft. Neoni Chris Grey - Let The World Burn Indila - Derniere Danse Seven Nation Army (Glitch Mob Remix) // slowed + reverb by Psycor Legends Never Die (Against teh Current) // slowed/reverb by Chewy ft Pixsy Lacrimosa - Slowed and kinda terrifying by Mony PG Rammstein - Sonne [SLOWED] best part by the_phonkface Farben - Orange Sector (slowed to perfection + reverb) by Suei After Dark X Sweater Weather (ultra slowed N reverbed) by OrdinaryVibes

And I think that's everything for now.💀

Enjoy, if you can♥♥♥

[fabistrange]

Viridiana, mi amor, mi vida, my muse🤍💛💙

I don't know why I fell in love with her this hard, but I'm glad I did. She's one of my new favorite comfort characters :'). Been wanting to draw her in a mantilla because those veils are super pretty. Could've added more details to the veil, but I probably would've lost my mind. I did try my best to add a bit more detail than usual to her cloak. I'm so happy with how she came out.

Might be obvious that this is my first time rendering water like that as I had no idea what I was doing💀.

I love you ❤️

[welcometololaland]

Tennis AU asks/thoughts based on your asks from Tumblr:

1. All the talk of people hounding Carlos to withdraw from doubles & him withdrawing from singles instead & the shock factor involved with that, well I also don't think he would withdraw from singles.

2. The talk of TK voluntarily withdrawing or being forced to withdraw from doubles to ease up the load on Carlos's shoulder that I think might be something that would happen. I also think he might do that without telling Carlos & then Carlos will have SO MANY FEELINGS about that & then there's going to he a huge argument ending with one of them confessing their love for the other?

3. Re: Them being outed, I think as I mentioned in my comment in ch 6, I think somehow Zane Albright is going to be involved. I think that because of his thinly-veiled comments on TK's addiction (something not many people actually know about). And based on that elevator scene, although it's slightly different from RWRB because *no cameras* I couldn't help but draw that parallel about them being outed and there being a whole shit storm about it.

4. Regarding the US Open Singles final, I also have the feeling that it's going to be a Tarlos match? And then I thought that it would be intense to the level of John Isner vs Nicholas Mahut at Wimbledon 2010?

5. Also is is weird that I wanna see more of Zane Albright in the sense that he plays singles against either TK or Carlos & he looses pretty badly?

6. I'm really excited for the Wimbledon chapter as it happens to be my favorite GS because Roger's success there! And also I remember you or RMD mentioning something about Tarlos & Wimbledon whites! 😏😏🔥🔥🔥

7. And Maureen & JP! Need I say more? The tweets have been hilarious! But I think poor JP is going to he scarred for life after reading Maureen's tweets! 🤣😂

8. Based on your previous statements & all your mentions of places in Melbourne to dine at in the earlier chapters, I assumed you were an Aussie from Melbourne so I set up Melbourne among the cities on the world clock on my phone so I could see what time it is so I could keep up when you posted in the evenings!

9. Reading this fic as the US Open began was pretty exciting! I was looking forward to the US Open a lot this year because it's Serena's last! I'm going to miss her! She's my favorite WTA player!

Sorry if this is a bit too long, I couldn't stop writing this once I started! And I realised this is like the longest ask I've ever sent! I'm loving this fic so much!

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

slowly making it through the tennis au asks!

OKAY BUT THIS ONE - there's a couple of things in here that are bang on the money but I'm not gonna say what they are 👀💀 I just love how in depth you've gone here!!!!

YES I'm from Melbourne so you guys can set your clocks to to the hellish time zone of AEST to find out when I am awake (I sleep like 5 hours a night, so that's basically always).

Thank you for being so invested! Also Serena is the GOAT and you are right to say it.

[chryzure-archive]

Okay so I know Chrysi and Jacks only get married in a select few timelines, but like,,, what was the wedding like. Was it casual or fancy? Who made gushy speeches? Who was the best man/maid of honor?? WHO WAS THE FLOWER GIRL???

OKAY, SO LIKE. THIS IS INTERESTING BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO WAYS THEY GET MARRIED IN THOSE TIMELINES THEY GET TOGETHER.

Version one: Chrysi and Jacks get married in “secret”, only the Fated way—by mingling their blood and holding hands and “saying the magic words”. Except rather than Jacks tricking her into marriage, Chrysi knows what the words mean and Jacks specifically told her what the marriage would entail, so it’s much more intimate and romantic. (Quick note: I choose to believe that she and Jacks speak the same magic language—but that Jacks speaks an older, more archaic version, since he was stuck in his card for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Chrysi teases him about it often, and she will be like “Oh, can you say that word for me again? Repeat it for me? Please? Pretty please?” and Jacks is like “Please stop making fun of me.”).

Anyway, the AUs where they get married in that way, they do so to keep it a secret from the other Fates and Chrysi’s enemies. There’s always a big dramatic reveal moment, followed by angst, where they end up being targeted for their connection to each other. It’s a fun little drama situation <3

Version two, which is more what you’re asking: Oh my goodness, this type of marriage makes me so emotional. Where Jacks fully commits to Chrysi and chooses to learn how to have a wedding like mortals do (since he’s mortal himself now 🖤). LaLa is especially happy about this (since she’s the Unwed Bride and she makes wedding dresses! Technically, yes, she makes Chrysi’s wedding dress, but Jacks has the most control over the situation because I like to think that Chrysi and Jacks don’t love her fashion sense. It is funney to me.)

Their wedding itself is pretty small. I guess I’d say it’s… intimate, rather than casual or fancy. There’s a sense of decorum and reverence—since the wedding of a Fate who chose to be mortal and tie himself to the only person immune to most Fates’ magic is a pretty big deal.

LaLa’s the only one making a super gushy speech 💀Jacks says some kind words, but really, you take one look at his face and you know that he’s too smitten with Chrysi to have any sort of coherency. Mistress Luck’s just, like, there. Her very presence is her acceptance of their wedding and her wedding gift is a blessing for them to have good luck. Chrysi doesn’t have anything to say really, since she’s more of an action person plus she really wasn’t expecting herself to fall in love with this man.

Simeon was Jacks’s best man and Luna Rune was Chrysi’s maid of honor! The rest of the bridal party are assorted friends (including you and your partner of choice as well 👀).

Emery is the flower girl :) She’s the coolest flower girl to ever exist :) And, depending on how established Luna Rune and Simeon are in varying universes, their little daughter might be helping Emery out :)

Chrysi’s dress looks something like this btw:

Plus she has a cathedral veil, like this:

And Jacks’s outfit (with a lot of tweaking from me, should I finally choose to draw this) looks like this: