#i drew the fire with no reference this is great

[milkartonn]

GUYS HOLY SHIT DONNIE WON THE WHEEL OF DOOM/!/1/!?

(Tap for better quality)

Can’t wait for him to get absolutely trounced in the finals this is great.

Just a quick thing I whipped up in celebration of Donnie’s win, so glad he ended up getting to participate in the finals lmao this is a win for every autistic person ever. Please ignore the horrible cropping of the tbh creature at the top i. Didn’t want to draw the whole thing💔 Anyway keep your peepers open and alert for when @autismswagsummit holds the finals!! Pretty sure they’ll be up for a week so that’s nice. Uh stick around i might be able to pump out one more piece of propaganda art before my midterms (emphasis on might)

*cough. @autismswagreblogs

Photo ID under the cut as per usual

[Photo ID: The drawing is of Donatello from ROTTMNT, taking a menacing stance with one hand holding his tech bō. He is standing in front of a purple and cyan fire, with the Wheel of Doom from autism summit 2023 in the fire’s centre. The other contestants on the Wheel of Doom are all grey and barely distinguishable. End ID]

[ickmick]

oh my god its the guy

BREAKING: Sculk cub returns, all thrilled

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.

so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...

The Avatar

the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".

the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.

atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending

the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".

the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.

Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.

this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.

Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.

Bumi

bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.

one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.

NWT Royal Palace

chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.

gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.

Betrothal Necklaces

to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.

the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.

Chi-Blocking

though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.

kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.

Wan Shi Tong's Library

the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.

i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.

[luvendiary]

3 times hiccup asked you to marry him + the time you realized he meant it

hello! this was an early draft for this request: Hello!!! Imagine hiccup telling reader "I'm in love with you" / "Marry me" out of blue after a stare down (can be established relationship or not muahahaha) I like how this turned out, except for the ending. it's sort of shitty in my opinion. also, this isn't proofread. and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. feel free to point them out. also, there’s a slight corpse bride reference with the vows!! as always, thank you for reading. let me know what you think and if you'd like more of this. requests are always open!

1.

Snoggletog was one of your favorite festivities. The beautiful coat of snow that hugged the soil, and the way the sunlight softly reflected on it was perfect to you. You loved to see how vikings busied themselves by hanging up ornaments and mistletoe on the doors. You loved hearing the out-of-tune carols that echoed across Berk. And you loved the late cold nights as you and the dragon riders sat around a warm fire and talked about the day’s happenings.

One thing you did not love though, was the Snoggletog play, specially because it had been assigned to you all this year. It was the dragon riders’ responsibility to plan, organize and act it out the day of Snoggletog.

“What about the start of dragon races?” Snoutlout suggested.

“They did that two years ago,” Astrid replied as she sharpened her axe.

“We could do Loki-”

“We’re not doing Loki day Tuffnut,” Hiccup interrupted him.

A moment of silence passed amongst all of you.

“What if, we make a reenactment of Odin and Freya’s marriage? How they stopped the Aesir and Vanir war,” you said while nibbling on your thumb.

“That could work,” Fishlegs said.

“I like it, we could even get the dragons in on this,” Astrid suggested.

“Of course, brilliant idea (Y/N),” Snotlout said as he stood up with a cocky attitude. “Specially because I would make the perfect Odin.” He flexed his muscles and stroke a victorious pose.

You chuckled and pushed him away, “Sit down Snotlout. I was actually thinking that Astrid and Fishlegs could be Freya and Odin.”

“Oh no,” Astrid said immediately. “I’m not good at performing. Plus, you gave the idea, you should be Freya.”

“Alright,” you said. “If no one else is up for it, I’ll be Freya. Fishlegs, are you ok with being Odin?”

“Ye-” his reply was interrupted by Astrid elbowing him. “I mean, I wish I could but…I-I don’t like performing.”

“What but you love perfor-?”

“Hiccup! Why aren’t you Odin?!” Astrid chimed in as she placed her arm around your shoulder while the other went around the brunette-boy’s shoulders.

“Uh…I-I guess,” Hiccup said.

Astrid grinned while looking at you, “Great! It’s settled then!”

“Why would you do that?!” you shrieked as you pressed the palm of your hands to your eyes.

Astrid, who sat next to you overlooking Berk from a nearby cliff, shrugged, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m tired of you two beating around the bush. Why don’t you kiss already? It’s obvious you want to.”

“Shut up Astrid,” you said while sitting up. You rubbed your hands together to provide some heat to your body. “I’m not even sure if he likes me.”

“You’re as blind as Gothi is mute,” she replied.

“How can you be so sure? Has he said anything about me?”

“You’re hopeless Y/N.”

The days went by, and Snoggletog drew closer and closer. Right after training, you went to rehearsals, and while most of it went by in fits of laughter and jokes, you all managed to build a production. You often tended to practice with Hiccup, since you had the most line together, and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. During this period, you had managed to gain some small victories in the love department, holding his hand, dancing with him, and hearing him laugh while you acted out some of your scenes being some. However, there was something you both had been avoiding: the marriage kiss. It made your heart flutter and your stomach swarm with butterflies every time you though about the possibility of kissing him; on the other hand, it also felt like Gronkle iron swishing around your intestines. What if he didn’t want to kiss you? What if he just did it out of pity?

Your mind was plagued with questions up until the big day.

“Good luck,” Astrid said while she gave you a knowing look. She was looking forward to the kiss, and if what she had told you was true, all of the dragon riders were too.

The play started out good, Snotlout and Tuffnut played the Aesir family, while Ruffnut and Fishlegs played the Vanir.

The scene changed and the Aesir were complaining with Hiccup about how Freya’s magic and her help towards the Vanir was the reason for their shortcomings.

I was then your time to appear. After several attempts from the Aesir to try to kill Freya, you and Odin came to an agreement: you were to marry each other.

“Marry me,” said Hiccup. And as you looked into his eyes your breath hitched. He had a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes gleamed.

“I will marry you,” you replied as you offered him your hand and he put the ring on your nuptial finger.

The scene was supposed to end there, you were about to take a step backwards so that the actual marriage scene could take place, however you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, and before you knew it you were being kissed. You were being kissed by Hiccup Haddock.

Your shock was palpable, however you dissolved into the kiss once the initial incredulity had passed. Once Hiccup felt the kiss was reciprocal, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer.

2 .

Dragon racing was a hefty sport. Ever since it was created, it became a fan favorite amongst Berkians. Once every full moon, a match was held that was sure to be the talk of the town for at least a week. On summer and winter solstice, you held the dragon riding tournament, that usually lasted for about a week; except for that one time when the black sheep had wondered deep into the woods, and you weren’t able to find it for two days.

Point of the matter is, dragon racing was a serious issue for vikings. And that’s why victories where celebrated so grandly. You never particularly cared for the celebrations, however wining was important to you; your usually carefree nature was irrecognizable when it came to the sport as you became a furiously competitive rider. This change, spared no one. Not even your boyfriend.

“Incoming!” you called out before snatching the black sheep from Hiccup’s arms, as you held on with your legs to (Y/D)’s saddle while she flew in an upside down position.

“Hey!” he shouted in response with a light chuckle.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not!” you replied with a shit-eating grin directed his way. With the black sheep secure in your arms, you flew away, not a hint of remorse visible on your face.

You returned to your upright position and quickly flew up to your basket and threw in the black sheep. As soon as you do so, you hear the crowds cheers and applause mixed with the blow of the horn, signaling that the match has ended.

Astrid joined you on the platform, followed by Ruff, as they cheered you on and celebrated your team victory.

Hiccup watched you, still mounted on Toothless with a lovesick smile present in his features, “I’m going to marry her,” he said as he took in your beautiful smile.

“I don’t think you’re her type,” said a voice next to him. Tuffnutt flew next to him with a pissed expression -probably because of their defeat- “but go for it. I’m sure my sister would be flattered.”

3 .

“Do you think there are other people out there?” you asked as you stared blankly at the stars. “I mean, besides us dragon riders and dragon hunters. Do you think that maybe there’s another civilization that has been familiar with dragons long before us?”

You heard Hiccup chuckle, “Possibly, maybe they even know of species we have yet to discover.”

“I wonder if they maybe think the same of us. Maybe we’re some strange advanced civilization to them”, you said with a light giggle as your thoughts went wild with the idea of the unknown. “Or maybe, we’re cavemen in comparison to their civilization. Maybe…they know about our existence, and they have just decided to leave us alone because we’re not worth their time.”

“That’s a bit depressing isn’t it?” Hiccup asked, humored by your rambling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s exciting…” you said slightly breathless as you stared at the vast abyss of twinkling lights that spread above you and beyond. “Just imagine everything we’ve yet to discover.”

You faintly heard the huffs and growls of your dragons, who were entertained by Hiccup’s prosthetic leg as they fought each other for it.

Hiccup allowed himself to steal a glance at you for a fraction of a second. He thought that the view in front of you was beautiful, but to him, the real wonder was sitting right next to him. You looked breathtaking with the starry abyss reflected in your eyes. Yet, you were so unaware of it.

“Marry me.”

He didn’t mean to actually say it. But he just couldn’t control himself when he was with you.

Your trance was broken and you stared at him wide eyed, in disbelief at what he had just said. However as soon as you saw his expression mirroring yours, you burst out laughing. You couldn’t say truthfully that you had never though about marriage, especially with Hiccup.

Hiccup’s startled expression morphed into confusion.”W-What? Why are you laughing?”

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” you asked in between giggles. “You don’t seem very sure.”

“What? Y-Yes! Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” his eyebrows furrowed in the way you loved. The way that told you you had successfully managed to get in his head. He had turned his body so that it was now mirroring yours, and his shoulders were raising up and down as they usually did when he was trying to explain something or defend a point.

“Fine then. I’ll marry you.”

His rambling stopped immediately. “What? Y-You will?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not?”

You stood up then as you walked around the small island you had stumbled upon earlier that day. Leaving a very flustered and confused Hiccup behind.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he called after you as he struggled to get up. He rambled on as he chased you, asking about arrangements and other things.

“Aha!” you said victoriously as you crouched down over a patch of grass with some wildflowers sprouting out.

Hiccup peered over your shoulder, trying to see what you were doing.

Eventually you stood up and extended your hand towards him. He stared at you blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself, tryin to understand your actions. Still, an amused smile was present on his face.

“Well?” you said after a bit. “Give me your hand.”

He did as you instructed, and then you took out your other hand from behind, which gently held a blade of grass along with some small wildflowers intertwined with each other, forming a ring.

“I know it’s not the best craftsmanship, but I figured we couldn’t get married without rings,” you explained with a soft giggle.

Hiccup grinned down at you, and laughed incredulously. He wondered how he ever got you to agree to be his. “I’m afraid to tell you dearest, but I don’t have a ring for you.”

You sighed mockingly and rolled your eyes. “I know that. I assumed you would be too in your head about your future duty as chief and the dragons to think about me.”

“Hey!” he protested immediately. “I’m always thinking about you-”

“But worry not!” you said as you giggled playfully. “Since I know you well enough to be married, I know you well enough to be prepared for our wedding.” You reached into one of your pockets and puled out and identical ring, which he gently grabbed.

He stared down at you, with a skeptical expression.

“Well, go on with it. Do you want to marry me or not?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

Hiccup sighed and then locked his eyes with yours. “I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third, make this oath. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Once the traditional vows were finished he gently took your hand and slid the delicate ring onto your nuptial finger.

You watched with a smile as he carefully placed it, and once he was done, you repeated the vows and slid his ring onto his own finger.

With your ceremony done, your lips met in a gentle and warm dance. You felt as his hands slid down your back and rested on your hips, holding your body closer to his.

“This is the second time we’ve been married now,” he whispered as he broke apart form the kiss,

“How scandalous,” you whispered back with a soft laugh, as you remembered the Snoggletog performance and how it ended up with your first kiss.

“Maybe the next time we get to do it, you’ll actually be wearing white.”

You stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’d like to bed me next time?” you teased.

“I’d love to bed you now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m aware you’d rather follow the traditional path.”

You laughed and patted his chest. “Well, you’ll better get me that white dress quickly then.”

4.

Hiccup had been acting weird all day. Evading you and whenever you managed to track him down he responded any question you had in a dismissive manner. You had figured you should let him alone for a while, at least until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

He did tend to get too into his own head whenever he was worried, and it took you telling him about it for him to realize he could share his burden with you. But this time it was different.

When you had asked what was bothering him he dismissed you as soon as he could and continued what he was doing.

It had hurt you. It made you think if you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything. It was scary thinking about what this could mean for the both of you.

“And you’re sure he hasn’t ever acted like this before?” Astrid asked as she tried to make sense of the situation with you.

You where both sat in the Great Hall, as the rest of the vikings ate their dinner. You however, couldn’t seem to make anything go down past your throat, as worry consumed you.

“Yes Astrid, I am sure,” you replied rather harshly. “I don’t even know where the hell he is right now. For all I know he’s probably off in another girl’s house. Maybe he got tired of waiting for me. Maybe he realized he doesn’t want this sort of commitment…”

You knew that this was irrational thinking. Hiccup had never given you signs that he didn’t want to be with you anymore, on the contrary, he was always very reassuring on how much he liked being with you. Up until now you had never had any reason to doubt your relationship; but up until now, Hiccup had never behaved like this either.

“Don’t say that! That boy is crazy for you. He has been since we where thirteen.”

You sighed and buried your hands in your hair. “Then why is he acting like this?!”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Astrid said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“I’ve already tried that…” you groaned out. Your voice muffled by your arms, on which you were resting your head.

“Give it one more try. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way up to the watch tower. It was Hiccup’s turn to keep watch tonight, so you knew he wouldn’t be able to escape this time.

You felt the heat of the fire before you saw it, and you knew he was there.

“You need to cut the crap Haddock,” you started as you saw the faint outline of his shadow as you were nearing the end of the stairs. “If I did something wrong, just tell me right now because I can’t keep doing this. We’re not teenagers anymo-”

Your throat closed up as soon as you saw him. A gasp escaped your mouth and your hands flew to your face.

In front of you, Hiccup was down on one knee and a small wooden box sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“You bastard,” you whispered just to yourself.

He chuckled at that and smiled as he saw your reaction. He then opened the box to reveal a small silver ring in the shape of some intricate patterns.

“My dearest Y/N…” he started, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him go any further.

“Oh Hiccup…” you breathed out as you approached him slowly.

“Please marry me,” he said finally.

You crouched in front of him with tears in your eyes and held his face in your hands.

“Of course I will marry you,” you replied as a teary laugh escaped your throat.

To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He laughed then, as he slid the ring in, and looked up at you. He cupped your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulled you closer until your lips met. He tasted tears and relief in that kiss.

You eventually separated and you hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again you bastard!” you said as the tears flowed, and you whipped them off as nervous laughter escaped your lips.

“I swear this is the last time love,” he chuckled as he crouched his head slightly to help you whipe your tears.

“Not that! Don’t ever avoid me like that again Hiccup! I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t want me anymore…”

Hiccup grabbed your chin gently and made you look up at him. “Theres no one else I’d rather want.”

You laughed nervously once again and offered him a teary smile.

“I’m sorry I scarred you love. I just…I was so nervous.”

“It’s ok…” you reassured him. “I understand.”

He smiled down at you and whipped another tear. You didn’t mean to keep doing it, but you had been so worried all day long that it was finally coming out. You didn’t want to ruin your moment like this. It was supposed to be a moment for celebration and happiness. You tried to make it stop.

“You can cry. I will lift your sorrows,” Hiccup said with a soft laugh as he whipped another tear.

You smiled then, tears still flowing out. But you knew it would be alright. He would make you feel alright. He always did.

[pricelessemotion]

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time. 

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it. 

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container. 

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use. 

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye. 

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free. 

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this. 

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway. 

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there. 

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair. 

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.” 

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.  

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.” 

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?” 

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.” 

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match. 

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no? 

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.  

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home. 

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular. 

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn. 

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!” 

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you. 

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder. 

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice. 

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen. 

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch. 

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp. 

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower. 

You’re sinking. 

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him. 

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure. 

Stay. 

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.” 

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines. 

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?” 

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door. 

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains. 

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.” 

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.  

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house. 

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you. 

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—” 

“Have to go?” He supplies. 

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open. 

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay. 

You’re the one who is always leaving. 

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds. 

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one. 

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone. 

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there. 

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up. 

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors. 

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction. 

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.  

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks. 

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces. 

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom. 

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.  

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away. 

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.   

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”  

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you. 

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning. 

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away. 

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him. 

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears. 

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t. 

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.” 

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting. 

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out. 

You understand the feeling. 

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you. 

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun. 

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.   

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun. 

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[elodee]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 2

Xisuma x Dethklok

I drew Xisuma in the style of a Dethklok music video!

I picked this one for him because X is a big fan of metal and I am a big fan of Dethklok, a fictional death metal band from the show Metalocalypse. Even though the band is fictional, they produce real metal and their music is great.

Warning: Metalocalypse is hilarious but also very adult, with graphic depictions of violence and inappropriate themes - this extends to a much of Dethklok's music and music videos as well, so please be aware of that if you decide to look them up. Obviously I wont be posting anything like that here.

If you want to learn more about Metalocalypse and Dethklok, or just want to see my style references, keep reading below the cut!

Dethklok is a fictional band created by Brendon Small and Tommy Blacha. Small both writes and is the main performer for the band. The band, consisting of 5 members that don't actually exist, are stars of the show Metalocalypse.

In the show, Dethklok has become so popular that they control the entire planet. Nearly every episode ends with the band performing one of their original songs, which somehow causes horrific violence to everyone listening. However, since they are idiots, they also seem oblivious to the destruction their awesome, face-melting, eldritch-beast-summoning music causes...or they just don't care because they're ultra wealthy megastars.

The show heavily, but lovingly, satirizes the metal scene and, less lovingly, the music industry and celebrity in general. The over-the-top gore is played for laughs, but the characters are interesting and endearing. There is genuinely a lot of heart under all that growling and corpse paint and a lot of care goes into their (often very funny) music.

If you are interested in checking out their music and want a PG track, I recommend Go Into the Water. This is one of their few non-violent music videos (big epilepsy warning though) and there's no profanity or graphic imagery in the lyrics. The premise of the song is that the band realized that fish can't listen to metal because they're in the ocean, and they thought that was sad, so they set up a concert just for the fish.

Style references:

Set design/aesthetic from Black Fire Upon Us (this song is awesome and was my primary design reference, but the music video is VERY violent, so be warned)

Nathan Explosion's evil DnD paladin fit also from Black Fire Upon Us

Dethklok's band logo

[raayllum]

Gift Giving & Primal vs First Elves :: Or Going Off Into the Deep Lore Deep End

Remember that meta I compiled about Greek mythology, deceptive gift giving, and TDP? Yeah it's time to talk about the gift motif properly as well as some other deep lore things because these excellent thoughts ( @spicyviren, @kradogsrats, and @its-leethee) got the wheels in my brain spinning.

AKA an unknown amount of sectioned word vomit into the nature of magic, where it comes from, how deep magic operates, some gifts and motifs, and Leola, just a little.

Let's go.

Gift Motif

The gift motif is one that's a bit of a slowburn in TDP. While characters will often pass and hand over objects — tools, artefacts, metaphorical responsibilities or trust (handing over the egg, for example) — to one another, there's not a big emphasis on gifts in the first three seasons.

There are some, such as Callum's letter from Harrow (that he's given by Claudia once again initially as a goodbye), Ezran giving Bait to Barius in S3, and Rayla's family pendant, but most of these, as you've might already noticed, are contextualized within Goodbyes. Whether the gift motif will amount in arc 2 to escaping this "final gift" context remains to be seen, but that's how it tends to work in interpersonal relationships.

There is an element of peace offering in hoping that returning Zym — a gift and/or gesture of good will — will help usher in peace, but I think (as of now at least) that ties further into the series' theme of Reciprocal Exchange (the assassin mission being an eye for an eye vs olive branch for olive branch) than outright gift giving. (Although we will probably talk about Exchange and gift giving at some point because there is also a thematic tether there.)

However, there is one other thing that is more and more often referred to as a gift in Arc 1, and that's Magic. Specifically, dark magic.

Now, this actually isn't that dissimilar from what the Goodbye gifts amount to, either. In Harrow's letter, he gifts Callum the Key of Aaravos believing it to be a powerful magical relic of some kind; Rayla's pendant makes its way from Ethari to her to Callum, who then uses it for magical purposes; and Bait, as a glow toad, is connected to an arcanum himself.

I do think it's noteworthy though that in Arc 1, (dark) magic being a gift is emphasized upon, specifically because of these lines for Khessa:

Upon first watching it back in 2019, it made sense that dark magic would be referred to this way, even when I just thought maybe it was that humans had been given 'nothing,' as Claudia says. Dark magic is closely tied to ideas of theft and thievery — stealing magic from others to harness its power for yourself — and the series is deeply interested in concepts of ownership or who has 'true' ownership over something, in magic, a throne/crown, a price to pay, etc. This follows neatly into Arc 2 (for ex: why Karim seeking to steal the Sun Seed is a metaphorical dark path even if it didn't outright involve dark magic through Kim'Dael), which we'll build on later.

That said, given the depth of the knowledge at the Great Bookery that is open to Sunfire elves more than any other type of elf, and the information that Tales of Xadia and Ripples gives us...

While elves warned that if humans were meant to wield magic they would have been born with it, [Leola] gifted the wisest humans with secrets: the language of the dragons and the runes that shaped spells. With the unicorn’s gift, the most determined minds among the humans could finally harness primal magic.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters [...] Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. And so there came a calamity.

It makes it more than likely than, unlike other elves such as Lujanne or Ibis, Khessa had reason to believe/know that there used to be primal human mages in the past... and that it wasn't 'enough' for them ultimately, because they still hungered and developed (and were given?) dark magic. "Your kind could not be satisfied with what you were given" was about the rejection of primal magic from Leola (the unicorns) in favour of a darker kind that involves theft and "dirtying yourself" (5x08) with dark magic.

But at the same time, this complicates the Gift Giving motif of including not just dark magic, but being also for primal magic — for humans, at least.

And also for elves. (Ignoring how "great orb" is very similar to "great one" for now.)

Janai: It was a gift. But there's more to it than that. The great orb began as this. Karim: This is... a sun seed?

Now, the Great Orb being grown from a Sun 'literal' seed makes sense. We've known for a long time that in Xadia, "magic is everywhere. It's just part of the vibrance or spirit of things" (1x05). Primal magic naturally occurring in plants, animals, and elves likewise makes sense on that note. Just as not "many could bear the gruelling path of a rune mage," Karim cannot bear to have patience and faith in something that will only come to fruition centuries later.

That said, I raise the question: how functionally different is the Great Orb from say, a sun primal stone would hypothetically be? If primal stones and primal magic were gifts to humanity from unicorns — from creatures connected to the Star arcanum, for lack of a better understanding — then why not magic from Startouch (?) elves to other elves.

How do we know that all magic isn't simply a gift that was given once upon a time?

From the First Elves to the Primal Elves.

Primal vs First Elves

So what's the difference between First Elves and Primal elves?

Well we have a few pieces of lore:

1) Zubeia's status as a "heavenly majesty" (which we'll come back to in the next section) gives her authority to speak in the name of the first elves, who are effectively gods to humankind and/or Xadians ("Have our Gods died? / Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?" —the Epic of the Void

2) It seems that the First Elves are, as of now and for a while, exclusively in reference to what would otherwise be called Startouch elves, although the latter is seemingly a name that came later given Rayla's affirmation of "ancient legends". This is reaffirmed in Tales of Xadia's two lone mention of First Elves:

No group of elves presents a greater mystery than the Startouch elves. Sometimes called the First Elves, those bound to the Star primal are rumored to have made great marks on Xadia’s ancient history—but beyond story and legend, little real evidence is left to us today [...] Among the few extant records of Startouch elves are the Scrolls of the First Elves, now kept in the Great Bookery of Lux Aurea.

3) At a post-S2 con in 2019 (how's that for a far reach?) we got a timeline of the events of Xadia laid out for us. The description of the very first piece of history and era we know of goes as follows, with the Rise of Elarion happening 2000 years ago re: the Dragon Prince era ("The Return of Aaravos"):

The Era of the First elves is the first recorded era 5,000 years prior to the current era. Dragons and elves were not allied during this period. There were no distinct primal elves. This is an era before all that. Humans suffered during this period. 

��2019 con timeline

4) Justin and Aaron reaffirm this at the 2:30 ish minute mark of this video (a couple of months before even S3 was released) by reaffirming distinctly to Primal elves. Later (7:40-ish mark) we see this distinction reaffirmed again through the statement of, "The patterns have been that these primal based elves have grown cultures and civilizations that have become separate and differentiated from kind of whatever the early days were with the First elves were."

Okay, so there was 100% a time where there were only First Elves, and humans, and Primal elves as we knew them (maybe still with the hands and horns, but no arcanum? Or no singular, distinct arcanum) didn't exist. Why does this matter?

This is where the deep lore timeline gets tricky, as we don't know precisely when 1) humans received magic and 2) at what stage the First Elves / Great Ones / Startouch elves 'left' Xadia, only that they did, apparently, when Elarion (the human city) needed help: "Elarion, unworthy whelp / Wept as the stars turned black the sky / They donned their masks / They turned their backs / And left Elarion to die". Why abandon the city (beyond indifference/cruelty as Aaravos would likely claim), who knows.

However, we can assume the timeline looks something like this:

Era of the First Elves

Primal elves (and presumably archdragons *) are crafted / develop into being, whatever that means

Humans are magic-less and are having a bad time

Unicorns / Leola extend sympathy despite the fact that the First Elves tell her not to (Book One: Novelization / Tales of Xadia)

Humans have primal magic (Ripples / Tales of Xadia)

This attracts negative attention, consolidated in Elarion ("the stars she asked their light to cast / and stop the dragons’ fiery might" / "as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted")

Elarion asks for help and the Stars leave

Aaravos, the last star — presumably already Fallen from the First Elves — gives them dark magic under the guise of protection even though it will inevitably help him (i.e. give him the ability to possess people)

Dark magic replaces primal magic as the primary form for humans

Tension and violence escalates (unicorns are hunted to near extinction). Sol Regem is removed as King of the Dragons

Under Dragon Queen Luna Tenebris, the daughter of an elven leader suggests the Judgement of the Half-Moon, causing for humans to be banished rather than eradicated, and the continent split in two

Again, nothing too crazy / not too much we haven't already known or guessed at for a while.

But like I said, I'm gonna propose two theories, so bear with me:

Theory #1: What is Deep Magic?

The First Elves engaged with what we're gonna call Deep or Old Magic, for lack of a better term. There can be an assumption at times that this magic would be more 'pure' or less 'diluted' than dark magic or even the primal magic we've seen on screen. However, I think that's less than likely. Dark magic is often times a bad path for good outcomes, and primal magic can be a 'good' magic for bad outcomes (the blood freezing spell, for example).

While dark magic is a more textually malevolent magic system and primal magic is more true neutral — able to be used as a tool and a source of connection for the user — I don't think this necessarily means that Deep Magic is inherently enlightening (we see with the Ocean arcanum and S5 that knowledge can be an immense burden) or that it's on the opposite end of the spectrum and is outright benevolent.

What, then, am I suggesting Deep Magic to be? Well, we have some clues likewise from the same old interview post-s2 that we haven't had much basis to (potentially) understand until now, in which it's stated:

Deeper magic and deeper gifts that the original beings received [...] practical, usable, powerful magic is drawn from the six primal sources, right? But there is this idea that there's this earlier, less differentiated power kind of magic that's deeper and more - I don't kind of want to say what all of them are. It's not that important now, it has more to do with the history of beings and their interactions with each other. But Aaravos cares about some of this stuff. The best I can say is that one of them's Power — but well, what does that mean?

The six primal sources — potentially just five (hence why only 5 gemstones seem to occur naturally in nature, and Star seemingly doesn't) — are all based around physical, somewhat tangible principles. Earth, Ocean, Sun (fire/light), Sky (wind/weather) are perhaps the most tangible, with only Moon dipping into something into something more metaphysical: illusions and questioning the nature of reality, the nature of death, etc. However, I'd argue that the Moon arcanum's emphasis on death still makes it something that is particularly important to creatures who are mortal (but more on that later).

What I am arguing for is then, therefore, that Deep Magic is magic drawn from Concepts and Ideas > tangible things found in nature or parts of other magical creatures.

Three concepts, to be exact: (translated dark magic screenshot from Cartoon Universe spells reversed).

Zubeia: He chose as his instruments those who had strong hearts and strong minds, but who had an insatiable thirst and fascination with magic (power).

Three quasar diamonds, three deep magic concepts. Heart, Mind, Power.

("To know something truly and deeply, you must know it with your head, hand, and heart. Mind, body, and spirit." / "She laid before me her scales, her blindfold, and her sword, and told me to choose.")

Now, I don't know if it's these three concepts exactly — I could Truth, or Justice, or something like that — or even if it's three. But given what little we know about Deep magic thus far and how much the series' likes its threes, I think that's the likeliest number and combination.

We've known for a while that there's something weird with the connection between dark magic, spells that use blood, and 'star' magic. We know it's unlikely that Aaravos being able to possess people who have used dark magic was just a happy accident discovered after humans started using it. We know that when Callum is offered the dark magic version of the cube in his dreams, the symbol is blood red: "You can have unlimited power." And that dark magic "became the key that unlocked a place of power for humans in Xadia" (Tales of Xadia).

So what if dark magic stems from the vein of Deep magic that's taken from the concept of Power? What if when Aaravos offered his pawns "unlimited" Power, or when Kpp'Ar accused Viren of (potentially using star magic) "making the same choice you always made: the one that gives you Power," they meant it?

Alternatively, this could mean that most other Startouch elves — their longevity, their indifference — comes from the vein of Mind and subsequent intellectual detachment? Enough intelligence and reason not to hunger for more (Power), but not enough compassion and empathy to sympathize with others (Heart).

And it would also tie into Leola being unique among her own kind for her heart taking pity on the humans, and giving them primal magic — perhaps in the vein of Heart, if we're keeping things consistent — and why love ("To know something truly and deeply [...] I love you with all of myself, and I always will" / "To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep") has been consistently tied to Callum unlocking arcanums. The "Narrative of Strength (power)" vs "Narrative of Love" being even more literal than we thought.

This wouldn't be too out of line since Moon arcanum philosophy already borrows heavily from Plato's idea of the forms/reality (Plato's allegory of the cave, anyone?) and the forms basically mean "your imagined ideal of the object in your mind is going to be more perfect than any tangible, 'real' version of the object could ever be." That being applied to living beings who are literally in the sky would track a certain amount, in addition to the idea that however primal magic is set up in Xadia right is "the whole world is like a giant primal stone; sky magic is all around us, and it's also in me, with every breath we take." But I digress.

With the distinction of Deep Magic as 1) separate and a sea that flows into the primal as well as 2) older and earlier than primal magic, now onto the next theory:

Theory #2: First elves and the Archdragons?

Now admittedly this one is more speculative since beyond knowing 1) the First elves = what we'd call Startouch elves, 2) the rest of them except Aaravos 'left' Xadia a while ago, and 3) the aforementioned possible 'Mind' deep magic thing, we very quickly run out of set knowledge into full blown speculation. Beyond

With that in mind, I wanna talk about the... weirdness, I suppose, between the Archdragons / draconic royal family and the First Elves.

There's a few notes to this: we know that Ancient Draconic is the language of primal magic, indicating that dragons existed and presumably had primal magic before elves did, and that elves had to be given that linguistic knowledge at least to a certain degree.

Then we also have the way Zubeia is referred to being mirrored with the way she describes Aaravos later:

Likewise, the one person/creature we've seen referred to as a god outside the Epic of the Void poem is Avizandum by Harrow (bonus points for the game motif of "entire armies have fallen like toys" because of him):

Bloodmoon Huntress also asserts that from an elven point of view (or at least Lain and Tiadrin, and presumably Runaan, too) that "Dragons are the lifeblood, the very core of Xadia" and generally assumed that dragons have the most powerful connection to their individual primal sources.

So I'd be willing to wager (esp since Sol Regem is at least 1,2000+ years old) that Archdragons at least once upon a time had been contemporaries of the First Elves if not peers. What and why that connection exists and how relevant it is for today, I don't know, but I do think there's something there, especially since the one example we have of a First Elf-Dragon relationship in Aaravos, Avizandum, and Zubeia, was perceived to be positive somewhat on all sides — a matter of trust on his end (in order to be "betrayed") and a matter of reverence and importance on theirs; "admired and loved by all" / "you meant something to him".

There is also something to be said for the Archdragons being the most powerful embodiment of the primal sources (alongside maybe some rare and noteworthy elves, like Queen Aditi) still being "unable to risk a direct confrontation" with only one singular and Fallen Startouch elf. What would a whole slew of them at the height of their power look like? (And yet it is implied that the Nova Blade is "ivory draconic" so... maybe you just have to get a First Elf close enough to the mouth to be consumed / bitten? Or perhaps the Nova Blade is made from the tooth/claw of a 'Star' arcanum dragon.)

TLDR; it's looking more and more like Startouch elves as we understand them and First Elves in generally are — while emotive and feeling the way humans and elves are — something very different from anything else we've seen thus far in terms of knowledge and power skill, and that distinction is only going to be made more and more apparent as the story goes on.

Theory #3: Where do we go from here?

So if Deep Magic is distinct from Primal, and is distinct from 2/3 kinds of Deep Magic in dark magic (derived from 5-primal and Power deep magic thoughts)... where do we go from here, magically speaking?

Well, the important thing to note is that the story has given us some thematic clues. Aaravos is concerned with exile and power, both things we see thematically most represented by human characters (with some elven exceptions like Karim and Kim'Dael). The other Star touch elves are very on brand for "Xadian exile" as their favourite punishment as well as extreme isolationism ("I knew I had to be strong alone" etc). Therefore, whatever answer we give Magically also has to reconcile these issues from a thematic and character based standpoint.

It seems like a switch of where people are concentrating energy — for Startouch elves and humans — needs to have a drastic shift to one of the other veins/concepts of deep magic that will hopefully heal the rifts. If Aaravos is Power (humans) and the others are 'Mind' (Xadian indifference/isolation and banishment) for lack of a better idea, then subverting that binary and shifting more to a third 'Love' path seems to be very on brand for TDP. Holding both at the same time but being guided by a higher principle of peace and harm reduction is what Ezran's 4x03 speech is all about, after all.

Something something both Xadia and magic and the First Elves being reunited with Xadia / humanity and elvenkind as TDP's endgame, something something.

Other Gift Giving Thoughts

The other thing I wanna talk about now that everything else is laid out is how gifts are Given, in TDP. We see time and time again relationships and magic systems being framed on the idea of whether they are giving, taking, both in a bad way or in a good way. There seems to be two main indicators for gift giving, therefore, either that in the receiver is worthy, or that the exchange is going to be reciprocal.

At its best, a gift works as intended.

Humans (and elves?) are given primal magic and generally use it for exploration and to care for themselves / one another The sun seed is given to the Sunfire elves, but they must nurture it. Callum gives Rayla her father's bow and she uses it to protect them. Callum achieves enlightenment and understanding of him and is rewarded with primal magic twice, even if the Ocean in particular is a bit murkier than he'd probably like. Gifts and belongings are relinquished or restored for freedom, for hope, for peace.

Here we have to wonder if Leola's Last Wish reconciles both the Goodbye gift motif and the gift of Magic motif, possibly resulting in the gift of the sun seed or more likely something to do with primal magic / alleviate the fallout of dark magic's consequences.

For example, to get an answer from Rex Igneous — a seeming wealth of knowledge — you have to give him a worthy gift that is also a sacrifice of some kind, according to Nath'an.

However, Ezran points out the major flaw in this line of thinking, as "We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." Not everyone is going to value the same thing or think the same thing is worth the price that was paid.

We see this interpersonally most with the mage fam ("Maybe the world would be better off without magic" from Soren, whose life was saved with it) and with Rayla and Callum (as Rayla's gift of sacrifice by leaving is something Callum did not want and rightfully did not receive well, alongside her moonstone pendant). Again: what is defined as worthy, or worthiness, is in the eye of the beholder.

Just like one of the initial thoughts that inspired this meta, Khessa asserts that dark magic is a magic that "takes" > being reciprocal for both parties, nevermind a gift. The irony, however, runs a bit deeper, as Aaravos thinks the same of his fellow stars:

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. No, the stars do not know patience, for they have no need for it. The stars want for nothing, and take all to their liking.

And we see this idea of a 'false gift' show up time and time again in the series. Nyx pretends to offer passage but actually wants to steal Zym; Rayla's act of love in leaving is a curse upon Callum's heart and wellbeing; dark magic itself is a false trade of sorts, given how unevenly it tips scales in Aaravos' favour and how much it ruins both the environment and body of its caster.

[The elven thief Lasair] never saw the precious blossoms fade and turn to cold ashes when exposed to the dawn. They never learned their gift was perceived as a curse, not a trade. 

—Tales of Xadia

Kim'Dael goes to Queen Aditi under false pretences ("The Queen's Mercy") but the gift that Aditi gives her is nothing good at all:

What pretty bauble, she wondered, had she tricked the queen into forging as a token of protection? What could be powerful enough to ward away the wrath of dragons?

Just as humans sought the stars' help to protect them from the ire of the dragons, Kim'Dael sought Aditi's. And just as Aaravos offered them a false magic that would protect and ultimately trap/destroy then, so does Aditi, with magic that doesn't seem to be entirely dark or primal:

“But know this: the binding around your neck—it is made with magic not unlike your own. It is a magic that demands, that takes."

A form of magic even maybe that demands sacrifice for that kind of Power.

You could almost say it's something Deeper.

Conclusion

Hope you enjoyed going completely off the rails with me, and that this long (winded) post got you thinking! I'll probably do a followup discussing the implications of what we have here for potential Laurelion-Aaravos later. In the meantime, take the fruits of my labour, and spin your own hamster wheels if you'd like.

[pursuitseternal]

Secrets and Sensuality in Chapter 3 of “A Night with the Ascendant”

Ascended Astarion x Spawn (Lumina) | E | 2.8K

🎨 by @snowfolly

Summary: Lumina confronts Lord Astarion about the sudden change in her abilities. She only finds more questions and a stronger curiosity over her possessive, obsessive Master who distracts her the best way he knows… in his bed.

CW: half-truths, smut as distraction, sneaky (not)-spawn Lumina, BG3 game references, No Tav, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, throat fucking (that kind where she’s upside down off the bed).

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 3…

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“What happened?” Lumina asked, direct but softly as he let her in through their conjoining door.

“Good morning, my little mistress,” Astarion smirked down at her, looming over her for a moment too long before he stepped back to allow her inside. “It seems to be a beautiful day out,” he flashed her a devilish smirk as she drew to a stop in the patches of sun spilling from his windows.

“What… happened?” she just repeated. Oh, she was good, he assessed. Eyes downcast, and hands clasped softly, but the tension in her shoulders and jaw, that hard press of her voice in her throat…. He could tell she was nearly ready to scream.

He looked at his nails, perfectly manicured, keeping his eye from her diverted, if furious, scarlet stare. “You mean what gives you the power as a spawn of mine to stand in the sun… to feel so strong and powerful?” He glanced up sharply to watch her give a single nod. Controlled and suppressed, daring of her. “Simple, it is I who give you that power… it’s because of my generosity and favoritism towards you. No others will call those powers their own…” he lowered his hand, half of a bow to her in mock deference. “They are yours alone, my treasure, because you are mine.”

Lumina drew her little frame to its full height, still only reaching her face to his neck. “That may be, my lord, my love, but I know magic when I feel it.”

“My dear, my very existence is magic,” he swept his arms wide. “And you, blessed you, are the only one to share in a mere sliver of that magic.” He reached for her jaw, cradling it to draw her face even closer to his own. “Let that answer be good enough for you, my mistress,” he breathed, his words sweet in tone but exacting as a command. “I would give you anything to make you happy… the world, my own essence, my magic… to keep you as mine.” I pulled her forward and ordered her, “Kiss me.”

Lips devoured hers, fangs clacking on her own, his kiss branded her mouth and flooded her senses. But her mind still raced, seeking out those tendrils of his power that usually accompanied his orders. But they never came. She sequestered away that observation as she soon grew lost in his taste and touch that permeated every following coherent thought. Her body lifted into the air, cradled in his arms to then be rested gently in those silken sheets across his familiar bed.

No more thoughts crossed her mind, not as he hiked up her skirts and his cock slid into her, that scent of his skin, of perfume and sweat and sex intoxicating her. More, she needed more after being at such a great distance from her heart’s desire for so long before this. His voice hissed into her ear, lustful words that made her quake with need. “My little mistress, my little treat to savour, all flushed now and hot for me…”

Lumina groaned, her body indeed on fire now, pinned and naked for their pleasure. “Yes, gods yes…” she groaned as he filled.

“Much more to me than a plaything, than some spawn,” he continued. “So much more…”

Limbs hummed and clung to his frame as he began to slowly thrust in and out, that devilishly tempting pace she had grown addicted to. “But you seem to be having… fun, my lord.”

He chuckled deep in his throat, the vibrations passing into her own skull it seemed. “I am… it’s hard not to with you, my Little Light.”

She rewarded that with a kiss, a never ending tangle of tongues and gnashing of fangs that stole her breath. Lost was the end of her body and the beginning of his—he was everywhere all at once, as if his presence raged in her very veins.

Pleasure swept her away, time after time, round after round as he had savored her affections before his journey. And in the end, even in the pooling sunlight of the afternoon, she ended the same—resting semi-conscious and sweetly smiling in his bed. The last sensation she recalled were his smoothe, dexterous fingers brushing through her straw-golden locks.

Then she rested.

The sun had risen high by the time Lumina stirred. She stretched her aching muscles, looking out the open window to see the City bathed in the sun, to hear the voices of life whining in the distance from beyond the place walls. She stood, scanning his rooms to find herself alone. It was such a bright and airy chamber, it stole her breath, never having witnessed it during the day… before…

…before whatever it was that had given her this power to stand in the sun and not char to a crisp.

Crystal chandeliers gave off sparkles of light, the brilliant hues of leather covers dotting the room in a prism of colors. Such decadence and luxury and beauty.

Just like him.

But as her wits finally returned, as the allure of his sensuality faded, Lumina couldn’t push away those suspicions anymore.

What had she become… what did he do to her, this gift of being made his mistress. What did it all mean?

Perhaps, he hadn’t meant for her to wake up alone, perhaps this was a chance.

And, from what she knew in life, urchin wretches like her had to take their chances.

A

On silent feet, she scrutinized his room, those sharp eyes that could find any object out of the ordinary, the keen sense she had honed as an indentured servant, a slave to a brute of man, came back raging full force as she looked for… anything.

She scanned his vanity, nothing out of the ordinary, kohl for his eyes and bits of fine jewelry, a basket of rings, a collection of scents and oils for his body and hair. Just looking at them made her smell his scent in her nose.

It made her salivate and grow insanely wet between…

No, no. She had to keep searching.

Shelves, lined with books upon books, cast some of the only shadows in his room at this time of day. Tidy and cared-for, well-loved and organized. Each stack held different topics—botany and necromancy, the magic of Karsus, the history of Avernus, the legend of the Blade of Frontiers, and Sharan worship… such a unique collection of topics, she observed.

But something drew her notice… a smaller bound leather journal wrapped tightly in its own little bindings. Glancing at the door, she pulled this one from the shelves. Nervousness shook her hands.

Surely… he had been so generous before, letting her choose any book at whim. Even if this was a journal, not a book per se.

Opening the cover, it was written in a tight and exact hand. Each page was speckled with regular updates, lists of quests and questions… Observations of Illithids and healers, Tieflings and Goblins in the… Emerald Grove… little notes about individuals… the Daughter of Darkness… the Wizard of Waterdeep…

Lumina paused. Titles that rang some bell in her head about the history of Baldur’s Gate. Her mind whizzed through the stories, accounts from the history books told by the actors themselves. The heroes.

Finally her eyes settled on one list of notes on the Pale Elf….

“Astarion…” she breathed into the silence, “the Saviours of Baldur’s Gate.”

She sat down with the journal, pouring over it as she settled cross-legged on the floor. So many details and intricacies and trials and tribulations, stated so matter of factly… words flew by her in a flash, she couldn’t devour the notes fast enough. They were fables, tales from two centuries ago, the literal stuff of legends—those six companions and their tadpoles who brought down the Dead Three and the plot of the Absolute.

She could feel her heart racing, the account of Astarion, a slave and spawn, seeking vengeance against his tormentor and master, taking his power, taking for himself everything that was so long denied to him.

Her heart could burst… from pride in him, from envy for a story not unlike her own. For as much as those in the Upper and Lower Cities whisper about the Ascendant as ruthless, a monster… a villain. For all of that, he was her hero.

Astarion, her dark saviour, scooping her from the darkness to give her light… sent to sweep her off to his palace, giving her a place where she belonged.

With a sigh, she lost herself tin that feeling, her fingers tracing over the worn vellum pages in a sort of bliss….

“Little Light, whatever could be the matter?” his voice purred from above her. Glancing up, he towered from behind, his elegantly stitched trousers hugged his muscles. The ivory of its silk let all the heat of his body radiate against her back. “Why ever are you on the floor?” He leaned closer, his breath seeping into the mussed curls of her pale blonde hair. “And what have you… found?”

His voice dropped from that sultry velvet of a purr to something deeper. A growl.

Lumina gave a radiant smile from the floor at his feet. “Oh, just a uniquely scribbled little journal from two-centuries ago…”

A slow roll of a laugh drew closer as he crouched beside her, deftly his fingers grabbed the journal from her hands and tossed it across the room. “You should forget what you have read, my love. Ancient records of people long gone, names all but faded from history and time, mouldering graves and dusty bones…”

Her nose wrinkled at him, her pale brows furrowed. “Not you, not the Pale Elf…”

The scowl on his face silenced her faster than if he had smacked her across her cheek. “You will not call me that,” he snapped on each word. Grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her to her feet before him to stop at the edge of his bed.

“I… I thought it would be acceptable to look through your books as you have allowed me to before…”

He laughed, low and quiet. Dangerous. “I leave you alone, my lovely little mistress for an hour or so, and you’ve gone and pried into things you shouldn’t have,” he hissed, bringing his lips right to her ear and nipping the soft flesh of its lobe. “Cheeky little pup. I’ll have to do something about it, like punish you.”

“P-punish?”

“Oh, no, nothing you won’t also enjoy, I’m sure,” he led her towards his bed, his hand wrapped firmly around her arm, touch hot through the silk sleeve of her dress. “After all, I am enamored of your spirit, your brilliance and sneakiness… but…”

He looked down on her, slowly slinking closer and closer until she butted against the edge of his bed. Instincts roared at her, she placed a hand on the thin fabric of his shirt and teased her fingers into the deep cut that ran down his chest. “If you want to play, all you have to do is ask. I don’t require threats of punishment to… be a good girl for you, my love.”

His grin spread like a shadow, silent and creeping, to twist his face. Lurching forward, he closed in on her, hands braced on the edge of the bed as she flopped down on her butt, almost bouncing on it. His smirk was elegant and dangerous. Just like him. “What a good little mistress you are… I’ll reward you for your spirit then, but I will remind you that I am no hero, Lumina. The man you read recorded in that journal is dead, along with all those other unfortunates…”

Those soft scarlet eyes reflected up at him, a sadness behind the shine of her lust. She licked her ruby lips and let a single fang bite into that pouting expression. Devotion incarnate, he grinned.

So many words filled her thoughts as she looked up at him. So many questions, all of them rooted deeply in her admiration for him and in the profound sadness she knew she saw behind his steely gaze. But every word, she swallowed down for now, parting her lips instead and pulling him by his collar to kiss her.

Devouring, consuming, his lips stole her air from her lungs and senses right from her mind. All she was now was need and desire, a whimper breaking from her throat as he pulled from her kiss all too soon. His look was pure lust, dark desire as he twirled his finger at her. An order to turn around. Obeying, she turned her back to him as she sat near the edge of the bed.

His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered against it. “Lie down, Little Light, and do try not to gag….”

Eyes shot wide, Lumina shivered as she scooted further into the center of the bed, laying on her back up at where he stood over her. His smile flashed at her upside down as she was, all the more thrilling and slightly sinister as she felt disoriented. Hands gripped under her arms and slid her just right, making her head hang off the ledge.

Her world practically spun, watching his fingers unlacing his breeches, that thick, hard, and veiny cock releasing from within to hang its shadow over her face. Fingers curled deftly around his shaft, stroking him harder, the other hand thrust a thumb inside her mouth to pull her jaw open gently. She could help but smile as his fingers stroked under her chin, that pink head of his cock slowly sweeping into her mouth and down her throat.

The undead beat of her heart pounded harder, already she could feel a light headed tingle as she felt him pull out slowly and thrust back in. Deeper this time. She laughed around his cock, feeling it twitching in her mouth as the vibrations tickled him.

Hips slowly pistoned back and forth. Every thrust sent the front of his hips to press against the top of her head, flooding her nose with the musk of his arousal. Lumina closed her eyes, keeping herself lost in the feeling of his cock in her mouth and his hands wandering over her neck and into her dress. Fingers latched around a breast, Astarion squeezed as he began to thrust harder into her mouth, leveraging his movements on that swaying fullness in her dress.

“Swallow around me,” he growled, “let me feel how hungry you are for your reward, even when you’ve been rather willful.”

She obeyed, her throat closing around his thrusts for a moment. A new magic pooled inside her mind and went taught, as if something was struggling to make itself known. A growl in his throat, and he just fucked her faster. “See, my naughty little minx, I am not some hero. A rake, a monster to some, a lover and master to you, Little Lumina….” He clawed his nails into her flesh, one around her breast, the other into the side of her throat where he gripped her now.

She needed to swallow again, drool running up her cheek as she hung suspended for his pleasure. A clutch of his fingers hard on her nipple, and she moaned with full voice. Suddenly, she tasted him, that sweet, warm bitterness that she knew so well filled her throat. As he groaned loudly over her, hands clawed hard into her skin, she felt a snap in her mind… images of Astarion, dressed in armor, blood spattered and beautiful, two daggers in hand as he tore through enemies…

She opened her eyes as he pulled his cock from her lips, letting a trail of cum dribble up her face. He stroked his finger through it, caressing her cheek. Palm at the back of her shoulder, he rolled her over and raised her up to his smirking mouth with two fingers under her chin. “Now…”

But she placed a hand on his lips to quietly hush him. “My love,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. “You don’t have to be a hero to the City, or to the world, or in memory of anyone you lost. But you should know… you are a hero to me. You pulled me from a fate worse than death by giving me undeath.” She kissed his lips softly,”I will forever be thankful for that, my lord.”

His lips were frozen as she worked hers feverishly. Pulling away from her, he quickly stuffed his cock back into his trousers to run a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner, my darling.” He tried to return to that velvety tone in his voice, that confident swagger in his stride, but he nearly choked and nearly laid himself out flat prone on the ground. “Be in the dining room sharply for me…”

With that, the door shut behind him. And Lumina was left perching on his bed, with more questions than answers and with a new tingling sensation in her mind.

It was different than his tendrils of compelling, brighter and stronger, a bridge and not a leash.

Perhaps… something would help her find the answer to what sort of magic he must have done to her. Whatever it was that gave her strength to endure sunlight, awareness to sense his innermost thoughts. Somewhere here… he must have the answer to his secrets. She just had to find them.

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: It will vary from story to story and I will point it out at the time (green-for-all; orange-for a mature audience; red-for adults, minors are asked to skip this story).

General Summary: Ten Different Alternative Universes In which you will experience an extraordinary adventure with Ace (plots and more details are written under the respective title). Soon they will be published one by one, for now I leave the plots in general.

General Inspired: I will write from time to time the possible inspirations that have been taken as references to write.

Let’s Meet Agian In The Next Life

[📿Exorcism!AU📿] - The spirit of the red fire

You’ve been called in to exorcise a demon that’s causing a lot of trouble for the community in a quiet country village, so you don’t expect that curse to give you such a hard time.

[📚School!AU📚] - Breaktime at school

Ace is the most popular guy in high school, he’s a senior, and he’s going to college soon, so you don’t expect him to know who you are, a little third-year-old girl who’s doing very well in school. You don’t know how wrong you are.

[👑Royalty!AU👑] - Midnight Ball

You didn’t object when the mystery knight gave you his hand to go down the garden stairs, it was your last night of freedom before you had to marry someone you hardly knew. A moonlight dance before you become the wife of the future king of the kingdom with a mysterious knight you would love in silence for years to come.

[✨PeterPan!AU✨] - Lost Girl in Neverland

Second star right and then straight until morning! But wait for the lost children are not so children but they are teenagers!? Fairies and mermaids are friendly? Indians are a rowdy group of adults who want to dance all night and pirates are not real pirates but admirals of the navy? What kind of island are you in, and since Peter Pan has freckles and black hair and calls himself Ace?

[🔮Magic!AU🔮] - Rebel

Ace never thought he’d have to ask you, a witch, for help to save his family. But he is a warrior who is willing to do anything to save the people he loves, even to come to terms with a witch like you.

[🐺Omegaverse!AU🐺] - Damn to that beta

The biggest cliché in the world? You made it happen. You always considered yourself a beta with little sex craving and always squabbling with her beta neighbor. So you don’t expect that the day you go for the analysis something snaps in you and that you’re both soul mates. In short! You can’t be the soul mate of your neighbor Beta (actually Alpha) Ace! And you can’t be his Omega.

[🏹Indian!AU🏹] - The arrow of fate

Travel to the new world! Gold, riches, adventures and new lands to explore! That’s what they promised, but now Ace was wondering how he could explain that those were really fake things and that the only thing that drew gold were the hair of a certain Indian who had snatched his heart?

[⚔️Moschettieres!AU⚔️] - Damsel in distress

"And you call that a lunge?" You shouted behind the back of the man who was fighting to protect you.

"Then fight you mademoiselles!" The Musketeer answered you by stretching out the enemy that was attacking you and taking you for life to take away. What was all that effrontery towards the poor Musketeer Ace who was fighting to save you at the behest of his majesty!

"With great pleasure!" You answered by beating your fists on his shoulder. There were no bridesmaids anymore.

[🚓Police!AU🚓] - Cat Burglar

Ace had just joined the police force when he was given a very important case by Commissioner Smoker. Catch a famous thief who always announces her shots before getting them. I mean, it seems easy, but nobody on the police force has ever done it. And the policeman Ace will have to invent one more than the devil to succeed in catching tha

[💰Far West!AU💰] - The Naked Gun

There is only one law in the bar: no fighting is allowed and as a bartender you are categorical, your rifle is ready to fire a warning shot at anyone who dares even think of trying. You just haven’t met the outlaw Portuguese D. Ace and his wacky gang of bandits.

[disposal-blueeee]

stuff i never finished and why

hello and good night . i'm just gonna ramble about stuff so yeah

swings

oh man i really loved this drawing . but it was a PAIN IN THE ASS .

i had a bunch of problems with this one . i spent an embarrassing amount of time doing the line . then after i started painting it on Ibis paint i realized that i should've done the line with a textured brush .

then the background . i really couldn't make it look nice even if i tried . i spent so long just trying stuff and searching for references but i just couldn't get it right . the colors and the lightning kept looking weird .

and just when it was looking decent , oh no the file is corrupted !!! and if i wanted it back i would have to go through a speedpaint of a drawing that took me 28 hours ( i actually tried it 😭😭 but it was taking so long and after some time the app crashed )

so , i decided to just give up . i was already fed up with it . maybe some day i'll try to redraw it or something

edit : oh wait a second . this drawing makes no sense without the background . edgar looks like that because there's supposed to be a puddle under scriabin's swing and he's trying to get edgar wet with it

otgw x chapter 20 / 21

i just said i loved the other one but THIS ONE . this one is SO PRETTY and i was so excited to try some new brushes and overall just finish this . excited enough to start painting edgar without even finishing scriabin's line .

i was using a small tablet my friend let me borrow . it was actually so helpful because i could draw on my phone with it !! i used to work on this when i was at school .

then i started having problems with the background . again

then my friend told me that his mom didn't agree with him giving me the tablet and that he should give it to his sister instead so i had to give it back . great . at that point i didn't feel like finishing it so

random reference i found in pinterest

this is like a month old maybe ???? i just thought " oh this would be such a fire pfp " and after finishing the sketch i was like " alright i'll finish this tomorrow " ( i never finished it )

mostly didn't finish it because i didn't have any idea to make it look lifeless and tragic . oh well . maybe i'll try it someday i still think it's cool

papa's cheeseria

this one isn't really unfinished . i just wanted to make a doodle sheet but never drew anything else so now he's just there . alone in a blank space . poor guy .

so yeah . everytime i play papa louie's games i always make the workers look like edgar and scriabin . i thought this default outfit looked pretty cool so so i had to draw it

[erikiara80]

March 22nd and all the birthday references in ST

Will's birthday has always been important.

A birthday mug in episode 1

Same mug in Mike's basement. We see it in scenes with El in S1 and Will in S2. Yeah, I think birthdaygate could be about her, too. Will is the only character whose birthday was used to literally save him and the whole town. And we've seen El's birth and birth certificate, but we still don't know when she was born? Strange

The I forgot your birthday card in Will's room in S1

But in S2 we only see it when Joyce looks at the Will the Wise drawing. In all the other shots the card is not there, and the drawing is on another wall. This could be a hint at different timelines (of a timeloop?) More screenshots here

Basically, I have two theories about Will's birthday: either people really forgot it in S4, or the Will who was born on March 22 is the brown-eyed Will in the Missing poster, in the timeline we see in the shed scene, and not the hazel-eyed Will we see in the rest of the show. Maybe they hid the truth in plain sight, they let people believe that his eyes were different because he was possessed. But then in S3 they show that Billy's eye color never changes (here) Can't wait to see what this means

No birthday card in these shots

Lesbianmindflayer found a video posted on the official IG account in August 2017. At the time, they had already filmed S2, they knew there was an important scene about Will's birthday, so why posting the wrong date? Is it actually a mistake, or that's really his birthday in another timeline? We'll see!

The amazing shed scene. One of my favorite! Joyce talks about Will's 8th birthday. That was in 1979, the year of the massacre. She also mentions his rainbowship, a hint at his queerness, but also a reference to the lab. And I think there's a connection to the "rainbow rocket" near Creel House, and the ship of Brenner's father, who was involved with Project Rainbow, and the first man to wind up in Dimension X. This scene is so important!

Will drawing a spaceship could also be a parallel to Olivia Dunham (Fringe), who drew what she saw in another universe. A Zeppelin

Olivia's drawing (Byler-Polivia parallel and Subject 13)

3x03. Happy Birthday and '76 on the poster. The lifeguard is talking to El and Max here. My theory about what this could mean and what might have happened in 1976 here and here

The original title of episode 3x06 was The Birthday. There is no birthday in that episode, but after the intro, the song that plays is Stand up and Meet your brother, and then El meets the Mind Flayer/Vecna (as a lab kid, Henry is kinda her brother), who is possessing a boy named William. A surfer boy.

Episode 3x08, posters of Firestarter and Sixteen Candles. Will is associated with fire, and in Sixteen Candles a girl hopeful thar her 16th birthday is the beginning of a great year, is shocked when her family forgets it because her sister is getting married the next day.

Sixteen Candles and a boy's 16th birthday are also mentioned in S4, and it is likely that S5 is set in 1987, after the time-jump, when Will is 16.

S4. There are so many mentions of birthdays in this season, it's crazy to think that the writers forgot Will's birthday.

Mentions of birthday and stolen thoughts in the opening scene.

Birthday party at Rink-o-mania. I could be wrong, but it looks like a party for two people, to me. And there's a hidden reference to the massacre. The game Asteroids was released in 1979 (here)

The scene that made many people believe that the writers forgot Will's birthday.

March 22. The Rink-o-mania scene is a parallel to the lab scenes, Asteroids was released in 1979, and the day of the massacre El remembered her birth. Maybe a hint that her birthday is also on March 22?

They call her little baby, and two of the bullies are twins.

Murray says that a one-year-old won't remember their birthday

Also, the wallpaper reminds me of these birds we see in his house, when Alexei explains how the two keys open a gate

Murray says that his "son" is almost 16

Mention of Sixteen Candles

Mike's Happy Birthday mug

At Suzie's, Will mentions Dustin's birthday

Yeah, I think something will happen to Will in 1987, when he's 16. And it won't be funny, lol. But he'll get his happy ending.

Happy birthday, Will!

[anxiescape]

Aaand the last sketchdump for now!!!

Up first, some Stargaze sketches:

Drew this around the same time I drew the picture for Chapter 1 of Stargaze. They're just, y'know... stargazing. Because I thought it was cute. 👉👈

Was making an expressions page for Stargaze!Liu'er, but I literally just drew this one face and it was far too cute, and I knew that none of the other facial expressions would compare so I just gave up. 😔

Now THIS??? This is a scene that happens later on in Stargaze. Yes, Azure is about to tear Liu'er to shreds, but it's fine, don't worry about it. (Also, this was my first time, like, actually drawing Azure (and not just a two-second doodle of him). It's not the worst, but I really don't have a lot of experience with drawing anthropomorphic animals, despite my furry years back in high school. 🤷)

This one is technically a Stargaze doodle... @amalgamorph and I often refer to Liu'er as our babygirl, so I decided to draw him in a cutesy dress, and just... just don't look at me, okay? Don't look at me. 😳

And now, a couple of sketches from some other fanfic ideas o' mine.

This is from a fic I've been working on a little bit, called Burning Shadows. Basically, when the Samadhi Fire was reforged, it ended up going into Macaque instead of sticking to Mei. Obviously, he wasn't planning for this to happen, and he is... not having a great time. (He's supposed to be on fire in this picture, by the way, so just... imagine him on fire. 🔥🔥🔥)

Aaand last but not least, Reborn!Peng! This is from a fic of mine that actually splits off from a Stargaze one-shot, where Liu'er/Macaque is never killed by Wukong—Peng is. So Peng is the one brought back by Lady Bone Demon, and they get to become her champion and all that jazz. This fic deals with some really dark stuff, so I'm a bit hesitant to post it, but feel free to ask about it.

[itmeblog]

WE ARE LIVE!

You can currently find The Unusual Courtship of Pax the Faerie on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and on my ko-fi! (In both EPUB and PDF)

And now I get to talk about it!

TL:DR This is how I wrote a novella with

Genderqueer faerie

A human who fae find attractive but not for the reasons you'd think

A couple that is endgame and a couple that is very much not not endgame based on two very different relationships with our titular character.

A deep and surprisingly thoughtful search for oneself and soul

A lot of religious references, just so many references

BDSM vibes

You can enjoy the madness with me. Below. Because this is not what I set out to write. I had intended to follow the standard romantasy script and determine if I wrote something that appealed to major markets if I'd manage to snag myself an agent. This is not what happened.

I wrote this book because I became fascinated by ACOTAR. It is imperative that I make it very, very clear, at the point that I started thinking about Pax, I had never read nor picked up anything written by Sarah J Maas. This story will make no sense if I did. I was only vaguely aware of her existence. I had heard some withCindy rants and then decided to get an overview from someone who genuinely enjoyed the book.

I went into this knowing it was a story about big, sexy, well-endowed men and a girl with perhaps too little fire power between her ears. It is also the book that I consider ground zero of the maleness ("he felt very male"? Girl what does this mean??) epidemic.

And I had questions.

If the fae are beautiful, sexy, and promiscuous then why have fated mates? Why make them stop being promiscuous? Wasn't that some of the fun?

If sex does not have the same weight in their society (presumably) then why is it saved only for romantic partners?

In a world where everyone can shapeshift why so much misogyny? If there is misogyny why do people not shapeshift or dress to pass as male in order to gain some modicum of protection?

Wouldn't it have had to develop in a completely different fashion than we're used too?

Why are the gendernorms so human?

Why would a faerie be interested (romantically and aesthetically) in a human?

So. Many. Straight. Faeries.

Why make the love interest the exception to the cruel nature of the fae when you can just make the human so much worse?

Angels???? ANGELS?????!!

NOTE: At this point I still had not picked up the book.

ALSO PROBABLY IMPORTANT: I am very aro.

Here's what I knew:

Horny

Faeries

Religion??

These are the rules I stuck to. So, while developing Pax, he was meant to be pretentious and very deeply wrong in her understanding of religion and the passages he quotes. I called a friend (from an old school Italian Catholic family, very old school) for some direction.

I explained the premise and she went, "no, you're not looking for passages, you're looking for the Ecstasy of St. Teresa"

This, my friend, is where things got out of hand.

This is the Ecstasy of St. Teresa

Considered one of the most risque statues of the Baroque period. Inspired by this

"I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying" - St. Teresa of Avila

Needless to say I became obsessed, which is great because St Teresa of Avila was a fascinating woman who sat in Spain, a mecca of Abrahamic religions, during the Spanish Inquisition (there's a lot of overlap in beliefs here). And she wrote a lot.

NOTE: Very important, I had intended to write this as a sexy l'il romp with a slightly toxic pairing, k? Like Pax's infatuation was 110% meant to be a little tongue in cheek. I wanted this to be marketable, I wanted to maybe get published. Yeah? I went wrong immediately when I decided Pax would be genderfluid but shut up. It's fine. We're here, everything is queer, we are rapidly sinking into a mire of 500 year old esoteric religious subtext. You with me? Cool.

I read several dissertations on sensuality in religion as well as many many things about the unintentional yet constant eroticization of pain (it happens so much omg, I cannot look at crucifixes the same anymore). And the break down of St. Teresa of Avila's 7 mansions of the Interior Castle (which I've also read), which explains in detail how to find god within oneself. Some of these papers were 100s of pages long. The pile of research I did for this was honestly bigger than the phone books of my youth.

As I said, this got deeply out of hand.

It also became the foundation for Pax's personality and the lens through which he experiences the world. Note: the woman Pax falls in love with is very much not God, she is also very much not safe.

So now I have this very raunchy book about faeries, religion, and sex, and finally FINALLY only after I finished, did I attempt to read ACOTAR.

And I fucking overshot.

I overshot so, so, so far.

I was aiming for Mars and I've ended up on Pluto. When all you hear about a book is how explicit it is and how it's the fairy porn book you assume it's more than 2 scenes.

You assume a lot of things about those scenes and the responsiveness of the heroine. Tamlin if that was the best you've ever had... what pray tell was the point of making you fae?? Are none of your lovers responsive or could it be you're a pleasure dom? Please, little fae man who has wild spring orgies, speak to me. What is your story?

So now I have a novella with

Genderqueer faeries

A queer love interest

A human who fae find attractive but not for the reasons you'd think

A couple that is endgame and a couple that is very much not not endgame based on two very different relationships with our titular character.

Way too much sex

A deep and surprisingly thoughtful search for oneself and soul

A lot of religious references, just so many references

BDSM vibes

[pirate-of-the-southern-isles]

Fanfic snippet - "How exactly do you work?"

Sun. Warm. Summer. He dreamed about this all his life. Maybe he could use some flowers and meadows… or a beach! He hoped that in Heticia, wherever it is, they will have a beach. He would love to just lay there, just like now, on a towel, with food, for a relaxing nap. The deck was hard and a sand was soft. Maybe…

“I have a question”.

Olaf opened his eyes. He might have drifted too far with his thoughts.

Hans was now towering over him, staring way too closely. Sunbeams were reflecting on his hair. It kinda looked like if his head was on fire.

“Oh. Yes?” Olaf wasn’t quite sure if he should get up and run to his queens. Or Kristoff. Or maybe Sven. But Hans didn’t seem to be threatening him. Alright, he had a little knife on his belt, but the snowman knew he couldn’t be hurt by it. He hoped Hans knew it, too.

“How exactly do you work?” Hans was still staring.

“Do you mean…?”

“You eat cookies, lay in a direct sunlight and yesterday I saw my deckhands throwing your head like a ball while you laugh. I understand you are magical but I would really like to know some more”.

“Oh.” None of those things Olaf considered weird. In fact, he thought about them as as obvious as the fact that the sky is blue. “I mean… you eat, too”.

“Yes, but my head doesn’t come off from my shoulders and if it would, I would be really displeased. And I have a stomach.” He patted his belly. “I need food so I can digest it and have energy for… well, living. If I won’t eat, I die. Can you starve to death? Can you die at all?”

That conversation became really grim really fast. Hans picked up on it too and thought that maybe he started off a wrong foot.

“Aye, once again.” He crouched in front of the snowman. “I don’t want you to get me wrong. I just want to know, so we don’t accidentally hurt you. Yesterday, when Rurik bumped into you and you broke down into three parts, he almost cried, because he was scared he’s just killed you.”

(…)

“He doesn’t need to be afraid, I don’t have anything that can be easily damaged. See?” He grabbed his own head with twig arms and lifted it up.

Hans’ eyes squinted a little.

“Great. And you can’t melt, I presume?”

“I can, but it would take a lot of effort! Elsa took care of it ages ago! Exactly when you… well. She gave me my protective cloud, then.”

The captain took this answer at face value, but also kept investigating.

“And the cookies?”

“Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. If you don’t have anything inside, except for snow, how do you eat?”

“I… don’t know. I just eat.”

“And what’s even more important – do you eat, because you need to, or just for a company? I ask for Egg, he doesn’t know if he should take you into account for our cook.”

“I don’t know.” Olaf shrugged. “I just… when Anna and Elsa eat, I eat too and I like to eat, so…”

Hans finally gave up, acknowledging that the snowman doesn’t even know conditions for his own existence.

“Great. So we will find out once our food stock runs dry.”

I am just starting with Olaf, so I practically drew him while constantly looking on reference pictures.

And I refuse to draw a background, I absolutely can't figure out the perspective.

[nearest-dearest]

The Painting

You don’t really know what Frank is so stressed about, painting can be relaxing. Julie shares your sentiment. That’s why she encouraged the entire neighborhood to get together to ain’t or draw something. And what better place to look for references than a beautiful garden? While Julie’s garden would be great, Julie and Wally insisted that it should be yours. Due to Julie wanting to change the landscape of her flowers.

Your garden It is then!

Julie argues that your garden is bigger too. And you couldn’t really disagree with her when everyone practically still had elbow room, and they’re only in the first part of the place.

Everyone took their time to complete their pieces. Choosing different flowers to serve as their muse. Howdy drew a caterpillar among the roses, Frank wanted to paint the butterflies, Julie wanted to paint a cute little spider she found, and the rest chose a flower to paint. Including you, but the flowers are only the second subject of your painting. For you decided to make a painting with everyone involved. Flowers would surround the neighbors while they have happy smiles on their faces.

You initially wanted to paint Wally, but your brain stopped you before committing that ultimate mistake.

A shameful, ultimate mistake.

First things first, you have to render the focal point of the piece, so you started painting everyone’s faces, starting off with Poppy’s.

“And done!” Wally announced “(Y/n)? May I get a second opinion?”

Wally asked, seeing as you’re the only with him in the second garden. You paused your painting for a moment to take a look at Wally’s painting. You could use the break too anyways. You turned to see Wally’s painting and gasped. Wally had painted himself a self portrait. With impatiens balsamina or touch-me-not flowers surrounding him.

“Wally! This is amazing!”

The colors Wally had chosen were beautiful, complimenting each other very well, making the painting pop with life despite being a still image. But there’s something there. A small detail, but it still caught your eye.

“You painted yourself frowning?” It wasn’t really a question, it was a fact. Wally had painted himself with a frown. A stark contrast to the warm and vibrant colors he chose to paint with. Wally gives a small laugh.

“Forgive me for the dampen move, but I just thought it would be nice to do something different. But rest assured, I’m not sad. There’s nothing to be sad about anyways.”

The look you gave him shows every word you wanted to say without speaking it. Wally didn’t need you to say that you don’t believe him. You always wore your emotion on your sleeves, quite different from how Wally would do. But the moment he felt your hand be placed on top of his own, he couldn’t help but show a little red in his cheeks.

“Is something wrong Wally?” You asked.

And Wally felt himself grow warm and fuzzy. Like a nice little fire place during winter. Even more so when he saw that you hadn’t removed the red string on your finger. The concern that everyone expresses for Wally when something is wrong, is nothing compared to the way you expressed concerns for him.

He didn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you. It just happened one day, and ever since then, he gets butterflies in his stomach whenever he’s with you. And oddly enough, Wally doesn’t mind that feeling.

Maybe that’s why he felt the need to be vulnerable, but he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. So he only chose the half truth.

“It’s nothing to worry about (Y/n). Sometimes I just feel a little lonely, and I wanted to try and get it out of me through painting. And I think it worked, I guess.”

Wally can be an impeccable actor at times, that’s how he can make faux smiles even better than Sally Starlet. What he can’t fake was the surprise he felt when you finished your painting and then gave it to him.

“Here Wally, for you.”

Wally took the painting and now it’s his turn to admire your skills. There’s a few mistakes but it’s all overshadowed by how you chose to use the impasto painting technique for the flowers.

“(Y/n) this is lovely! But why give this to me?” Wally asked.

“So you and home won’t feel lonely!”

Darn, that gesture is so sweet it’s admirable.

And Wally turned from a pale apple into a full blown ripe red apple.

An entertaining sight for the whole neighborhood, hiding and watching the scene before them.

“Ha! I win, cough up!” Julie cheered, all while Frank had a frown as he begrudgingly gave away his one piece of candy.

[blubffsd]

The Great War - WC | Bonus

summary: let's unpack the meaning behind The Great War of these two worlds colliding.

note: you should play The Great War by Taylor Swift.

read Worlds Collide before reading this, you can find it on my masterlist :)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

This part is a representation of Mia's emotions towards Kylian throughout the World Cup final match, all the frustration she felt being mad at him because she didn't want to be.

Spineless in my tomb of silence

"Tomb of silence" refers to everything that happened with Mia's father in the round of 16 of the World Cup, something that she never told anyone and that Kylian only knows a little about.

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

"The Battle" represents Mia's internal duel with her father, his absence, and how he always chose his sport over her. During the final of the world Mia "tooks her own battle underground" trying to avoid the real situation with her dad thinking about the dream of his whole life was about to come true.

And maybe it was ego swinging

Perhaps the real reason the worlds collide is because of both Mia's and Kylian's egos of wanting to win the biggest prize.

Maybe it was her

Or maybe the real reason was Melissa's manipulation of Mia and her desire to talk to Kylian.

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

No matter how hard Mia tried, she couldn't help but remember her battle: the situation with her father, even after winning the World Cup. She always kept him in mind, even though she tried not to.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

All the "spilled blood" represents all the pain of Mia and Kylian and the evil of those who tried to manipulate them into not being together. "The crimson clover" where the blood is spilled represents their relationship.

Sweet dream was over

For a moment, Mia and Kylian's illusion of continuing together had ended.

My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War

"The Great War" represents the World Cup final. Despite all the differences and the thousands of reasons his environment gave him for not doing it, Kylian always looked for Mia, even during the great war.

Always remember, tears on the letter

Mia's suffering was always caused by her father and his absence, the World Cup final was the trigger for everything she had been hiding. And even more so when his boyfriend was involved. The tears in the letter to Kylian are not for him, they are for her dad.

I vowed not to cry anymore if we survived the Great War

Mia will stop crying and suffering because of her father if she survives with Kylian because it would be a way of leaving everything behind.

You drew up some good faith treaties

Kylian looked for Mia at all times, even during the ceremony when they gave him the golden boot because he needed to talk to her.

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

But Mia decided to run away from him and torture herself with her thoughts and the guilt that wouldn't leave her alone.

You said I have to trust more freely

Kylian never felt betrayed seeing her support her country.

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

But Mia can't help but feel guilty.

And maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did, so I justified it

The past with her father and what happened in the 2018 World Cup torments her too much, making her believe that Kylian will do the same to her as her father did, which is why she justified leaving.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and my hand was the one you reached for all throughout The Great War

Kylian at no time during the game did he stop thinking about Mia or how much he needed her there, not even after the defeat.

Always remember, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore if we survived the Great War

If they survive, Mia will stop fighting in the battle with her father.

It turned into something bigger, somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

This verse represents three situations:

1) Mia towards her father on the call after supporting Kylian in the match against Argentina in the 2018 World Cup.

2) Kylian towards Mia when he saw that she wasn't there.

3) Kylian towards his entire family when he saw the treatment they had with Mia.

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

If it hadn't been for Kylian, Mia would never have fully accepted the situation with her dad.

Soldier down on that icy ground looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue

The "soldier down" represents 8-year-old Mia who lived in the illusion that her dad would change one day and that she always tried to mean something to her dad, but with the conversation with her father when she returned to Argentina it ended up wiping out all the hopes she had.

So I called of the troops

That was how Mia decided to stop fighting her battle with her father and leave things as they were.

That was the night I nearly lost you, I really thought I lost you

Both Mia and Kylian believed that this was the end of their relationship.

We can plant a memory garden

"Memory garden" represents all the events that made everything get out of control and that ended up causing the great war. Mia's partying, the fight with Ethan and more.

Say a solemn prayer

This part represents Kylian and Mia's decision to put an end to the whole problem.

"—I promise I won't go anywhere or leave you ever again.

—I promise too."

Place a poppy in my hair

The red poppies are a symbol of recognition to all those who have fought in a war conflict. In the story, it would be a metaphor to indicate that Mia and Kylian survived and are now going to fight together.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

Regardless of the outcome or who won, it was still an unfair war for both of them.

And we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover

Despite everything, Mia and Kylian understood that what happened was not their fault.

The worst was over

They were able to survive the worst part.

My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War

Always remember, we're burned for better

The war taught them that their love is stronger than before and that they will always be able to face anything together.

I vowed I would always be yours 'cause we survived the Great War

They will always belong to each other. Mia belongs to Kylian and Kylian belongs to Mia. Because they survived. Because their worlds collided and they still kept looking for each other. Even when their families didn't approve of them together, even during all throughout great war, it wasn't their fault. It was never their fault.

I would always be yours 'cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours...

note: this is the real "there's actually a taylor swift song that explains it"