#i'm still relearning how to paint

[sun-citadel]

Journey begins

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 8.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

wordcount: 4.7k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

i've been planning this chapter for months now, i hope you all enjoy! there is a surprise in this chapter 👀

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, talk of chronic pain and illness

story playlist

It was slowly nearing half a year since Shera and Cregan arrived at King’s Landing– she still hadn’t gotten used to the heat but she had finally, somehow, begun to adjust to the people, the looks, the whispers and sneers. 

She, albeit slowly, was losing care in such things. She had been spending more and more time with the people she cared about– the ones who made her happy. She still visited Helaena and the children once a day and sometimes would even stay overnight and giggle under the covers with the princess like they would when they were children.

Her mornings started by watching Aemond spar with Ser Cole. She didn’t hide from it anymore– as she felt… somewhat liberated from showing her eye to him. She couldn’t exactly explain, to herself, much less anyone else, why she felt warmer than usual when watching him clash swords with his mentor. Sweat dripping from his face, the little sneer he plastered on when he was particularly concentrating. It felt like butterflies were trapped in her stomach, beating against her skin to get out. It was unfamiliar at first, the feeling– but now it’s become a recognized acquaintance, even if she couldn’t exactly name it.

Aemond, as well, had taken it upon himself to make more effort to spend time with Shera. His days before she returned to King’s Landing were very structured, very planned and scheduled. He would wake up, spar with Cole from morning light until lunch with his mother, then back to sparring until early evening when he would wind down by reading in his chambers, eat dinner, and then go to bed. ‘Going to bed’ didn’t really indicate sleeping, however. He didn’t need much of it to function and found the dreams (and nightmares, to his chagrin) that came with sleep uncouth– so he laid, usually for hours, until his mind drifted into the lightest of sleep cycles. He valued organization and repetition– impromptu changes to such a rigid routine were unwelcome. 

Except for Shera– a very impromptu change to his life on her own. Mayhaps unwelcome at first, his outward antagonistic behavior to her was improper and came from a place of, surprisingly, regret. Regret and self-loathing. Usually, he attributed the feeling of self-pity and self flagellation in association with his brother, who was in all rights, a pathetic example of a man (but still his brother and wouldn’t tolerate such talk about him from anyone else) but when Shera came back, walking down that hall– she had looked so small, like she was a fragile heirloom on the verge of breaking at any moment. She could hardly walk without guidance and hid herself. 

When his mother said she was returning, as vague as it was, he felt some sort of resentment bubbling up in his gut. What gave her the right to return now? He fully expected her to be the epitome of a Northern lady, hardy and strong, unyielding. The letters ‘she’ (unbeknownst to him at the time, the words were fabrications of Cregan) sent after Driftmark, painted the picture of someone who was fine, who was well adjusted, who didn’t have to go through moons and moons of relearning how to be a person. The image of Shera he had concocted into his mind, and onto paper– an icy woman with fiery hair who would come to blows with someone rather than shed a tear– was not what he saw. 

No, what he had seen in that hall, who he had seen– he didn’t recognize her. Then, seeing the small curl of copper hair, the fur stole, the wolf. It struck him like a bolt of lightning, spurring every cell in his body into action, setting them on fire. Blood pumped in his ears and he could hardly hear her (whispering voice aside). 

She was broken. Harsh, yes– but it was true. She was a shell, behest to the terrible experience they both suffered.

Regret flooded through him. She was this way because of him, because he dragged her along in the middle of the night to watch him claim Vhagar.

I should have killed them. I should have killed them. 

And he retreated from her. He hardly remembers his words to her after she came out from his mother’s chambers– they felt vile in his mouth, like spewing venom. The primal part of him, the dragon, was unruly and restless.

He couldn’t stop lashing out at her–

But what did he really feel? 

He fucking missed her. He missed her more than he could ever profess. He wouldn’t admit it outloud, of course, he had to maintain some form of self-preservation. 

After their night in her room, after seeing her eye– there was a shift. They spent more time together and she became a fixture of his schedule. 

Wake up, spar with Cole and have Shera watch him until noon, they would lunch together three days out of the week with Helaena. He cut his afternoon sparring in half and spent that time with Shera. At first it was awkward, but they melded into one another like their youth quickly.

She begged him to teach her how to draw, to help strengthen her eyesight.

“It… it hurts to focus.” she sniffed, looking up at him. She didn’t wear her veil when they were alone, which he made sure they were when they were drawing. Her blind eye was red rimmed slightly, twitching. 

He had set up a vase on a small table for her to draw– it was a simple clay vase with a depiction of two nightingales in flight. They had just moved on from plain objects to something a bit more detailed, albeit only by a little bit.

“Don’t strain, Shera. Just… look at it normally. It’s blurry in some places, right?” 

“… yes.” 

“Okay. You looked at it up close for a good five minutes. Do you remember what was on the side?”

“The… the nightingale imprint.”

“You can see it in your mind, but it’s not clear to the eye. Use your memory to fill in the blanks.” 

“Aemond— this… this is just a test of memory. How is this helping my eyes?”

“Trust me.” 

She started off shaky, her first slew of sketches no better than his were when he had first started, but she fell into it quickly. She developed her own style, straying from the charcoal that Aemond used exclusively, and opted for more colorful tools– she had woad paste pastels imported from Dorne. They would sit and depict the same thing and come out with completely different results.

It was so easy to forget that she was betrothed to another. That she was to leave soon.

That she was to be his nephew’s wife. His nephew who didn’t give a shit about her. His nephew who was there. Did no one else think it a bit sick that she was to be the wife of someone who took a part in her mutilation? 

Was he the only sane one? 

He sighed softly as they finished up their drawings for the day. They had been sketching the coastline of Blackwater Bay– Shera went with a color scheme of blue and green and sparse spots of orange and yellow. 

He stuck to his monochromatic charcoal.

“Rhaenyra’s name day gala is… in a fortnight, right?” Shera hummed, using her foot to pet Moongeist, who was at her feet. 

“Mm,” Aemond responded, flicking some errant charcoal powder from his doublet. “A mummer’s farce, if you ask me.”

“... I don’t care much for events– but at least… your mother and sister are getting along,” she tilted her head as she wiped her hands off. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent had been working together to plan the event and were in high spirits. They were frequently seen chatting lightheartedly. 

“Half-sister,” Aemond clarifies, giving her a pointed look.

“Half-sister,” Shera says, brows raised. “I suppose it is a send off, too– since…” her voice trails off slightly, not really wanting to talk about her impending wedding to Jacaerys. She hasn’t spoken much to her betrothed as she didn’t feel the need to– she let him run around with her brother and do what he liked. She imagined it wouldn’t be much different when they were married.

An uneasy silence settled over them. There were many words on the tips of their tongues that they just couldn’t say– it would make it real.

“Shera-,”

“Aemond-,”

They spoke at the same time, standing up simultaneously. Moongeist made a warbling chuff sound that sounded like a laugh.

He must be sick of our antics.

“I should get back to my chambers– before dinner. Cregan wants to… eat with me, for some reason.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed in his usual manner.

—

Shera sat across from Cregan, leg crossed over the other as she fed Moongeist scraps under the table.

“What did you want to speak about?” she broke the silence, glancing up at him. She had put her veil back on– to her dismay, as she had come to like not having it on… around Aemond, at least.

“Do I need a reason to want to dine with my sister?” he asked, clenching his jaw slightly. 

“... no,” she mumbled, flicking her nails against one another. “But you don’t usually dine with me.” 

He chewed on his piece of mutton slowly, regarding her. “I’m leaving, Shera. I need to go back North.” 

“Why?” she blurts out, a bit more emotionally than she wanted to. She and Cregan didn’t have a great relationship, but they were… siblings. There was familiarity. 

“I’ve stayed too long already, there is a keep to run, things to do, Shera,” he narrowed his gaze. “Will you be alright… alone?” 

Her lip caught between her teeth. “... I suppose so.” she and Cregan had their moments– she thought he was a huge idiot most of the time, but that was her brother. She had been by his side for the last ten years and he nursed her back to some semblance of health when she returned from Driftmark. No matter the choices he made, the ones he made for her– they were all one another had, really. 

Her chest ached slightly that he would be going back North and leaving her here. She wouldn’t be alone, per say, but… her blood would be so far away.

“Will you… attend the wedding?” she asked then, drawing little circles on the table with the tip of her nail. 

“Yes, I’ll return to Dragonstone for it.” 

“Dragonstone?” Shera looked up, slightly alarmed. “I thought the wedding would be in King’s Landing?”

Cregan stopped chewing, suddenly looking sheepish. It was unbecoming of him. “I… yes,” he cleared his throat. “Jacaerys said that after his mother’s name day gala, they will move back to Dragonstone.”

Why does no one tell me anything? “Hm.” she grumbled, sounding much like Aemond– she’s picked up on his little mannerisms and made them her own, it seemed.

“You will be going with them and will be wed soon after.” 

She made another noncommittal noise, scraping the remains of her plate to the floor. She’d lost her appetite. 

She would be alone sooner than she thought.

—

Returning from a luncheon with Helaena, a few days after Cregan’s departure, she discarded her veil right away as soon as the door was closed behind her. 

She waved her hand in front of her face, despairing in the heat of the South. Moongeist agreed, his tongue lolling out in a pant as he lapped at a small tub of water at the foot of the bed. 

“It’s too hot for us here, dovey,” she whimpered, wiping sweat from her brow, beginning to strip the various layers of clothing she had on— she did have somewhere to be later in the day, but she would simply have to redress. “I hope Dragonstone is more breezy, lest we melt.”

The layers flew off of her, pooling upon the floor like a puddle of dark ichor. It likely didn’t help that she only wished to wear dark colors, attracting the heat of the sun to her poor constitution. Her cheeks flushed red with the errant warmth and she wondered if this was how those with Targaryen blood felt all of the time— constantly huffing, puffing, warm and sweating. It was terrible. 

Finally in nothing but her shift and underclothes, she walked to the bed, hand reached out to peel back the blanket when something shiny caught her eye. 

Investigating further, she found a small velvety box, opened to reveal a silver choker, inlaid with three sapphires. Blinking profusely, Shera carefully pried the piece out of its holdings and inspected it. It was, to say the least, flawless. It matched her silver earrings that she always wore almost down to the exact detail, the engravings even the same— long, flowing tendrils into the metal, outlining the gems like garlands. Pearls hung from the bottom of each sapphire. Her thumb roved over the center sapphire, the largest one and the most prominent. It was cool to the touch. 

Gently placing the choker down, she dismantled the box looking for a note or any indication of who might have left it. She guessed it to be Jace— did he intend for her to wear it to the gala? She would have to find a garment to match. 

Shera descended to her wardrobe, rummaging through until she landed on something that would go swimmingly with her new necklace. It was a dress she hadn’t worn at all, and had been tailored for her shortly before leaving Winterfell. It was a silver and blue dress with intricate embroidery akin to that of a Godswood, but the leaves were a cool toned blue rather than red. She had a pearl-laden head garment, imbued with a silken veil and ringed headdress of sorts, with silver moons hanging down on each side. 

Curious.

–

“You… must stay outside, lovey,” Shera murmured to Moongeist. She had received a missive– unclear from who, but either Alicent and Rhaenyra– that they would prefer if her wolf was not in attendance to the gala. She wanted to cry, leaving him outside of the ballroom. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t really command her companion– their relationship, as impenetrable as others may see it, was the culmination of years of hard work and trust. They were so attuned to each other, Moongeist knowing when she was pushing herself too far, when she was in distress, and when he needed to step into a situation. He was, on all accounts, very polite and well-mannered – for a wolf. He had never bitten anyone who didn’t deserve it. His good conduct thus far and impeccable record was apparently not enough for him to be admitted to the event. He whined as Shera snuffed into his fur, murmuring soft nothings into it. “I’ll return as soon as I can,” she whispered. “I’ll come get you when everyone leaves and you shall have all the scraps you’d like.” 

Tearing herself from him, he sat dutifully outside of the glass door that led from the gardens into the ballroom. She willed herself not to cry, not to cry. 

She was unsteady on her own feet, hoping to find someone familiar to steady herself on. The last option of familiarity presented itself first. Jacaerys spotted her right away, putting a hand on her waist. “Shera,” he smiled warmly. “You look… wonderful tonight. Mother is going to be so happy to see you in attendance.” 

“Jacaerys,” she responded, willing a smile on her face. He was better than no one. She steadied herself by putting a hand on his shoulder. His eyes, usually sparkling with mirth, were a bit dim. He seemed… forlorn. “We don’t have such lavish events like this much– up North… apart from feasts. There usually isn’t much dancing.” 

He swallowed, his brow furrowing minutely. “May I interest you in a dance, then?” 

“Mm,” she hummed as they descended to the dance floor. She thought about her dance with Helaena and Aemond on the night of her betrothal dinner– it all felt so far away now. She tilted her head slightly as they danced. Jace’s head was looking to the door, as if he was waiting for someone. “As annoying as he is– I miss him as well.”

Jace looked slightly bewildered. “Pardon?”

“I may only be able to see from one eye, but I’m not completely blind,” Shera murmured. “You’ll see him again.” 

The prince softened slightly, nodding his head. He was grateful for the words.

They danced a bit more and mingled, more so Jacaerys talking to people and stringing Shera along. Somehow, through it all, she became separated from him, walking on her own through the throngs of people. The heat, even with her less thick layers than usual, was stifling– from all of the bodies. 

She suddenly felt… panicked, like when she was lost in the tunnels that one evening. “Excuse me,” she whispered hurriedly as she pushed through people, who didn’t even seem to see her there. “Pardon m–” 

Her voice was cut off by a strong arm pulling her around her waist. Her anxiety damped right away as the familiar smell of sandalwood and leather took over her senses. Aemond looked down at her. “Lost again?” he was wearing a black and deep purple button-up doublet, with a long overcoat. It had a flared collar. He looked nice– it wasn’t much different color wise to his usual garb, but it absolutely wasn’t something he would spar in. He was even without his sword– but a brush of Shera’s hand near his waist revealed he did have his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“... mayhaps.”

“And where is your guide? It is unlike your dog to abandon his post.” 

“He wasn’t invited to the gala,” Shera frowned.

“And you’ve… been left alone?”

“Jacaerys was–” 

Aemond held up his hand. “You don’t need to tell me any more,” he rolled his one eye. “He wouldn’t be able to keep track of you if you were the size of a dragon.” 

They fell into an easy sway– he was much more relaxed than he was when they first danced. But Shera couldn’t shake what her brother had said– they… Rhaenyra and her brood, which included Shera now, would be leaving a few days after the gala. She hadn’t told Aemond, she didn’t know how.

“You’re worried,” he tilted her chin up to him so their gazes could meet. “I can feel your unease from here.” 

“... I…” her mouth felt dry, her hand clutching his inner elbow shakily. “We’re leaving.” 

Aemond stayed silent.

“Jacaerys and I… are to be wed upon Dragonstone– and we are to leave… in a few days.” 

Aemond still declined to speak.

“Aemond,” she pressed her thumb into his skin. 

“You can’t leave again,” he stated. He did not ask, nor plead. He stated it, as if it was a definitive fact. “I won’t let you.” the same moment of rage she had seen before was there, bubbling under the surface. A vein in his neck bulged out and she could feel the control he was trying to keep over himself, over the situation. He gripped her face with both hands now, boring into her with a surprising and sudden placid smile.

–

With a hand over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra scanned the crowd. It’d been so long since she properly enjoyed an event. The planning of it with Alicent had been… more fun than she thought it’d be, and the two women quickly fell back into a rapport, akin to when they were girls together.

It felt right.

Her eyes eventually fell upon two familiar faces— Shera, her veil pulled back slightly by Rhaenyra’s half-brother, Aemond. His hand gripped her face softly, but with intensity as the two locked gazes, lips pursed, brows furrowed, clearly in a heated conversation. It took Rhaenyra all but five seconds to be teleported back to her own wedding to Laenor, all those years ago, where she and Daemon had been in the exact same position— where she had dared Daemon to cleave through her father’s men, steal her away to Dragonstone and make her his wife. 

Fuck.

–

“They think you are tame and controlled— but I can see it, the blood welling and boiling just under the surface of your skin. You’re hardly holding it together,” she whispered harshly. “Do you not think I’ve tried to devise everything I could… to stay? To stop any of this?”

“Quell me, then. Let me take you to marriage and let me cut your lip, taste your blood in the ways of old. Dampen my molten blood. I’ll do it in an instant, under the heart tree, in the molten halls of the Dragonmont– anywhere,” his nail pressed into her cheek, angling her head upward to look directly at him. No escape from madness, look me in the eye, he seemed to taunt silently.

It was overwhelming. She was overwhelmed with the warmth in her stomach, the butterflies she felt– they bursted into ash, searing into her like a brand. Shera felt the world around her chill, her extremities cold. “A-Aemond,” she croaked, her hand grasping at his shoulder with all of her might, but it’d only came through as a light tug. “A-Aem—“

Coldness spread through her, her vision fading to white. Then she was warm, extremely so— like she was on fire, panting and spewing hot breaths from her open maw. 

Blinking her eyes— she was outside, her heavy wisps fogging the glass pane on the door. Wait. She had full vision, not just the one. It felt odd, so wrong for her to be able to see all around her like she was whole and normal. 

Why was she outside? Just let me in, Godsdammit, let me in! She growled low, hands coming up to scratch at the wood and glass, nails digging into it. Her nails were longer than normal and much sharper, a deep black in color. 

She wanted in, in, in, in— her hands, no— her paws and claws shredded at the door, eyes peering into the crowd. They were gathered around, shifting slightly to let her see what was going on—

They were gathered around her, eyes rolled back in her head as she laid limp in Aemond’s arms. She saw Jacaerys storming over, already hurling accusations towards Aemond. 

No, no, he didn’t do this, stop! She screamed, barking and howling, her teeth biting into the wood and beginning to rip it apart, splintering and cracking the glass. 

Shera watched in horror as Jacaerys unsheathed his sword. Aemond was still holding her, loathing to give her up— 

Stop, stop, stopstopstop! She bursted through the weakened door, glass and all, feeling it tear at her fur and skin. Patrons gasped around her as she mulled through them towards the center, snapping and snarling. 

“Moongeist, calm down!” Jacaerys said, his eyes wide in surprise as she sat between him and Aemond. 

So she was Moongeist— that is why it felt so familiar. She, no, they drew their lips back in a growl, hackles raised. Back off, back off, back off! They screamed, snapping at anyone who got too close. 

‘That wolf has gone mad!’ 

‘Is that the prince’s intended?’

‘Yes, but not the prince that’s holding her.’

‘How wanton.’ 

They panted heavily, still feeling a deep rage within them. Everyone was too close, too close– the sounds of the gala drowned out as they looked to the upper windows of the ballroom. A familiar sight to behold– the cream colored blur and siren’s song of a voice. 

A beige and cream colored barn owl sat atop the eave of the window, staring down at them with wide eyes.

‘Now you know, dear Shera.’

–

Shera awoke later, still cold as ice. She was back in her own body but still felt the remnants of itching fervor from being in Moongeist– not ‘in’, it had a word. Warg. She heard children’s tales about it, how a man can enter the mind of a beast and become one with it. 

She glanced around the room. Aemond was pacing– she was in… her chambers. Jaw clenched, she sat up from the settee with surprising vigor. 

“Shera–” Aemond sputtered, stopping his pacing. 

“Hush, come with me,” she grabbed his wrist and strung him along, feeling more lively than she had in ages. Moongeist padded alongside them, hugging to her leg just in case. 

She led them down to the weirwood, not letting go of her grip on him.

“You cannot lie to me, Aemond Targaryen, not here. Do you see that?” she gestures to the face etched in the bark of the Great Oak– staring back at the two of them.

How silly they must look.

“Do… not… lie to me,” Shera pleaded. She approached him, her hand skimming the edge of his jaw. He was so warm, always so warm– he permeated through the cold she always felt. “You can lie to everyone else. Keep… those walls up and don’t let anyone in. But not… not to me. Never to me,” she was trembling with the weight of what she was asking, her fingers drumming against his skin. “Did you mean it? Did… you mean it? You want me here with you?”

He stilled her by covering her hand with his own. “I wouldn’t–,” Aemond murmured, his free hand coming up to unhook his eyepatch. Her breath hitched as he discarded it. The moonlight caught the concaves of the gem first, expanding over the flecks of blue, all shades of it.

A sapphire.

She palmed the matching stones on her mysteriously gifted choker. “You… you… your eye…” Shera stumbled slightly, her knees wobbling beneath her.

Aemond held her upright with one arm, slung around her waist. “Hm?” he asked in return, a playful lilt to his voice– something only reserved for her.

“It’s… it’s blue!” she squeaked, pulling his face closer to her, observing with the same scrutiny that she had when they were sketching together. “And… and…” she kept babbling, tugging at her gifted choker. “And this? You… you git! You… cad! Oh, you’re incorrigible.” her words were inflammatory in nature but she… was laughing– as much as she could anyways. It was a quiet giggle, like the soft trill of a small bell.

It made Aemond chuckle in return. The two of them soon devolved into a fit of joviality. “I quite like you in blue, Shera. In my color,” he leaned down to whisper in the shell of her ear. “I had to let Jacaerys know… exactly…” he punctuated each word as his hand made a home on her jaw, inching closer to her lips. “... where and to whom,” his thumb pulled down her bottom lip. “You belong.” 

Every nerve in her body was on fire. She’s never felt so warm, so hot in her life. Is this what it felt like to be a Targaryen? Gods, it was fucking stifling.

“And… to be clear,” he continued. “You belong here. With me.” 

Her mouth parted, she was barely breathing. She… she wanted… she wanted to kiss him. She wanted him, more than anything she’d wanted before. She was mad; this was mad. Even on shaking legs, she pushed herself on her tippy-toes, pressing their lips together. 

She felt… elated. More than elated, it felt like she was flying, skimming the clouds like a dragon, wings spread… free.

Aemond melted into her right away, pulling her closer as they melded together. His tongue swiped against her lower lip as he caressed her so softly, so gently– more gentle than she could ever imagine him being.

This was the first time she ever took something– something she wanted, and she got it. It was selfish, she knew– selfish and dangerous and reckless and just… hers. This was hers. He was hers. “Mine,” she whispered as they caught their respectful breaths. “If… I’m yours, then… you are mine, right?” she clarified, a bit less confident than her previous possessive declaration. “Quite right, little wolf.” he hummed, pressing another kiss to her temple. 

In a brazen show of exuberance, she captured his lips once more.

Things were forgotten. Namely, everything that wasn’t them in this moment. Their individual turmoils, their shared despair. All notions of her mysterious collapse, Aemond’s scuffle with Jacaerys, Shera’s impending marriage to the said prince, tensions rising between two sides of a family–

This was for them. 

The only time that either of them had taken anything for themselves in the last ten years.

--

a/n: ART IN THIS CHAPTER BY @lonelymagpies who, as always, was LOVELY to work with! they captured the scene perfectly.

[oleander-nin]

Vampire ROTTMNT Headcanons

A/N, not important: You're probably thinking "Ollie, this is so short and wonky? What gives?" And to that, I say: I didn't know whether to make it old timey, how they became vamps, etc, so I'm going with this version for the normal rise, and a Victorian version for the Yan and I'll just bounce them around sometimes whenever I revisit this trope. I have how I want vampires to act, just not sure how/when I want the rise boys to be vamps. Feel free to ask questions if you need clarification or want a certain thing answered. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Blood drives, mention of needles, blood, being bitten, animal deaths mentioned, vampires

Words: 2127

Summary: My Basic Vampire ROTTMNT Headcanons

Tag list: @f1oricide

They all got infected/turned after being bit by a vampire bat mutant.

Mikey:

Mikey has the longest canines of his brothers, something that causes him to avoid feeding on living things as much as he can. He tried once and felt awful for the cries it made, so he usually goes out and tries to find newly deceased animals, or steals from a butcher. Will also kill animals if he has to. His longer canines also make it harder for him to hide his ‘condition’, but he’ll usually brush accusations off with comments of genetics or his mutation.

Constantly bites his lips while talking, the long fangs getting in his way. He basically has to relearn how to enunciate his words due to them. He gets easily frustrated by his inability to speak well, and gets irritated easier because he can’t explain why he’s feeling upset.

He’s able to adjust to most of the new abilities fairly easily, as all of them are already incredibly strong and fast due to their mutation. The night vision and sensitivity to light, however, excites him. He’s content to wear sunglasses during the day if they need to go out, and the ability to see better in the dark makes their night missions a lot easier. Plus, he’s now able to stay up all night painting without alerting his brothers to him being up so late.

Absolutely despises that he basically can’t cook anymore. He still makes food for his father, but he can’t even touch half the best ingredients without gagging anymore. Food smells rancid at best, and tastes thick and unsavory no matter how much he tries to fix it.

He’s always trying to snuggle up with you now, his skin constantly cold from the lack of circulation. He likes to latch onto you and bury his face into your stomach, trying to pretend he’s still alive and well.

He likes to bite the deltoid of your shoulder the most because he can hug you close while he does it, but still drape himself over you. You’re the only human blood he usually gets, but he only does it when you offer it first. He doesn’t want to accidentally pressure you into letting him feed off you if you’re not comfortable with it.

Hates to think that he won’t age with you. As he starts to grow faster than normal via the virus, he’s constantly having growing pains and this causes him to come to you for comfort more. He doesn’t like that he’s basically shooting into adulthood, and since none of them have experienced it before, they aren’t sure when it will stop. When it peaks when they seem to be in their mid twenties, Mikey just feels sad. You may not have aged a decade in a year, but your aging never stops. He’s terrified to watch your years pass by without him.

Donnie:

Donnie has the shortest canines, which causes him to look the most ‘normal’ to his original self. He prefers to have human blood, solely taste wise, but usually has SHELLDON get it for him rather than hunting himself because he hates drinking straight from the source. He transfers it into bottles or bags so he can save it and stock up. He avoids drinking from animals mainly because he doesn’t trust them to have parasites or rabies, and while he isn’t happy about drinking from random humans, he can at least hack into their medical records first. Donnie chooses his blood incredibly carefully.

You and April(if she lets him) are the only people he’ll feed on directly. If April lets him, he’ll usually do it like a blood drive and just take a small bit of her blood into a blood bag. For you, it depends. If you’re scared of needles, he’ll just do it the ‘normal’ way, but if not, he’ll let you choose to get it done via blood collection. Where he likes to bite depends on his mood. Sometimes the neck is easiest because you’re just right there and he hasn’t eaten in hours. Sometimes the lower shoulder or the wrist is better because you’re both just trying to get it over with. 

He keeps a journal of all the changes that happen to him and his brothers, wanting to keep a list in case they come across someone else it happens to. Their entire mutation/transition is well documented so he doesn’t forget what it was like when it first happened.

It takes him a hot minute to get used to his new heightened senses. His least favorite is his sensitive smell, as anytime he goes near something pungent, he feels physically ill. It takes him a while to go back to the junkyard, the rust and oil making his head spin until he adjusts. He adds stronger noise dampeners to his goggle headset to block out unwanted noise when he needs silence.

He’s constantly complaining of his growing cramps, using you as a pillow more and more now that his hands are stiff from both working and from growing. His mood sours for a long time due to the countless changes he doesn’t want. The only good thing he seems to find from it is that being a vampire will improve his ‘bad boy image���. He completely negates this by curling into you after his legs cramp up and ends up cuddling you for hours.

As soon as he realizes that he will outlive you by a longshot, he tries to find a way to either elongate your life, or shorten his. He refuses to let you leave him. While he’s excited for many years to practice science, the thought of losing you terrifies him, especially since he thought he’d die with you, rather than live on for a millennia afterwards.

Raph:

Is already used to the fangs due to his snaggle tooth. While everyone else is accidentally biting their own lips and tripping over their tongue, he’s able to navigate the new longer teeth fairly easily. He still accidentally bites his tongue a couple of times, but less so than his brothers.

Hates to bite others, and usually feeds on animals. He doesn’t want to be seen as a monster any more than he knows he would already be considered. He avoids feeding for as long as he can, and even tried to continue eating ‘normal’ food for a while, until they all realized it gave them net zero nutrition so they couldn’t survive off it. He eventually gets more used to it and starts eating what he should, but for the first few months he feels incredibly guilty and tries to only eat enough to last a couple hours.

Raph tells you of his new ‘infection’ immediately. He doesn’t want you to figure out accidentally by catching him drinking blood or something.

While he hates biting you, his favorite place to is your shoulder. He likes to have you cuddle into him with your back against his chest so he can just bury his snout into the crook of your neck. The first time he bit you was an accident while he was asleep, and since he wasn’t eating as much as he was supposed to, he bit you while you both were cuddling. He woke up pretty quickly and pulled back, feeling awful about it. His kisses were solely light and soft weeks after that because he was worried he’d accidentally cut you again.

Raph’s more careful around you now, trying to adjust to the nearly doubled strength he now has. He’s clumsy and big, so even when he didn’t have vampire strength, he had to learn to watch out and not play rough with you like he would his brothers. It’s like he has his ninpo powered on all the time now, so it takes him a while to make the adjustment. You gain a few new bruises and countless apologies before he finally gets the hang of it.

His new growth doesn’t help with his clumsiness, especially since he’s shooting up nearly two feet in a year. He’s always sore, so he carries you around like a teddy bear to keep him company. He refuses to think of you growing old without him, refuses to remind himself that as your body starts to wear down, he stays frozen in time.

The one thing he likes about being a vampire is his heightened senses. He always knows where you are, and he doesn’t even have to turn on the light at night to make sure you’re safe. He can see you curled up on the couch or on his bed without disturbing you, and it shortly makes up for the other horrors he goes  through in his transformation.

Leo:

Least caring about his new fangs. He thinks they’re cool, constantly teasing others and you by baring his fangs and bringing his hands up in mock claws while hissing. For a while, he goes full into the vampire getup, trying to talk in an accent, saying “bleh bleh bleh” after every sentence, just as much as he can to try and make his new condition unserious. He wants to pretend it’s something fun and not that he’s basically no longer alive

His favorite place to bite is your wrist. He thinks it’s hilarious to bow and grasp your hand as if he’s going to kiss your knuckles, only to flip your arm and sink his teeth into your upper forearm or wrist. Even when he’s not being goofy with it, he still chooses your wrist because he feels he can control it better. If something happens, it’s much easier for you to push him off when he’s holding onto your wrist then biting into your neck. He knows he won’t hurt you, but he’s afraid he might start to drain you, and doesn’t want that to happen.

Leo uses his new powers to show off, creeping up on you in the dark and making jumps he couldn’t make before. He knows he’s stuck like this now and just wants to make the best of it. Sure, he knows it sucks, but goofing around to make his brothers feel better too always makes it a little bit easier.

He tries to ignore the fact he’ll outlive you, passing it off with jokes about him being a trophy husband because he’ll always look young. He’ll hold you close if you ever start to get sad about it, quietly reminding you that you’re not going to die anytime soon, and he’ll be with you for your entire life.

Constantly whines about the growing pains and cramps, using it to bribe you into longer cuddles. He’ll teleport to your side so he doesn’t have to move and just collapse into you. He just wants you near while the aches settle into his bones.

Basic Vampire functions via Draxum mutation:

(sorry it's so jumbled. I hope it all makes sense, ask me if you have questions)

Heightened senses, including eyesight, strength, speed, hearing, and smell. The strengthened eyesight is more sensitive to light, which makes bright lights uncomfortable. They can still be in the sun, just can’t see well due to it which makes being out during the day unappealing to them. Can’t spread being a vampire via a bite(has to be from the original mutant or the string of mutagen). Can only consume blood, although it can be the blood of any organism. Their bite produces a numbing agent(much like a mosquito) so you can’t feel the initial prick or suck. Once the agent wears off, it’s much like the ache of a shot. They must be decapitated to be stopped. Cannot shapeshift nor fly. Common myths(ie: can’t enter a house w/out permission, garlic repulsed, no reflection, etc) don’t apply. They are put off by garlic, but mostly because of its strong, pungent smell, but can’t be stopped by it. They get the same reaction from onions and strong scented flowers. For them, eating normal food is the equivalent of us eating grass. It’ll fill you up, but you can’t digest it or take any nutritional value from it and you’ll probably get sick. The only problem is it both tastes and smells awful. Vampires are immune to any bloodborne diseases. Becoming a vampire starts to change your body into what would pretty much be your best years. Within a year, you would either advance or regress into the physical stature of a fit 25 year old on steroids. If you’re older and your back has started to give out and hunch, you’d regain your height and your muscle mass would be fixed. You’d be stuck as a young adult. Vampires have fast regeneration, and while they can’t regrow lost limbs, a major stab wound can heal in just hours.

Sources:

Used for biological explanations and for reminders of the different bodily changes in vampires

Used for basic history, descriptions, and a characteristics

Blood consumption after death

More history/characteristics

Vampire lore by region

[agencyboys]

I've talked about this before, but Dead Boy Detectives has made me creative again. I'm learning and practicing new ways of drawing, I'm writing again, hell, I'm even learning how to play the piano!

I haven't talked about how I used to be involved in theatre. I was cast and crew at different points. I painted sets (and even designed a few pieces), I was on the stage! Life happens, disabilities can occur, and goals have to change. It's been 8 years, and I still miss it.

I felt like I was acting as I went about my day. Every conversation was a script I had to follow. I felt like I had to act to survive. Learning to unmask autism has lessened this feeling. Along with unmasking, the acting in Dead Boy Detectives has reignited my love of acting. Analyzing the smallest changes in expressions, feeling the emotions from the screen... It's hard to put the feeling into words because it's something I've felt for as long as I can remember.

Watching the cast has been such a joy. You can see the passion behind their performances. However, watching Jayden specifically has made the ache to get back on stage even stronger. Seeing everything he put into Charles reminded me of how much fun acting is and how satisfying the work can feel.

Others have written everything I can say about his (and the rest of the cast's) performances, so I figured I'd share how it's personally affected me. I may never get back on (or behind) the stage again, but I'm happy the passion is back nonetheless! I love to love things!!! So thank you, Jayden, for helping me relearn to love acting ❤️

[jerirose]

I'm really bad at writing these and I'm not sure where to start... but I think I need help. As a large amount of you know in FEB 2023 I got COVID whilst on holiday. I am autoimmune and my body did not take kindly to it. I got it on the 3rd day of my holiday and spent the next two weeks in bed, flew back home (properly masked) with COVID and spent another week in bed with positive results. COVID took my voice for several months, from shredding my throat (I wasn't able to talk for 3 months afterwards and slowly had to gain back my ability to speak) and I gained a heart condition from it, along with breathing problems. I am still suffering, a year later from all of these, the last year has been an extremely difficult battle for me, along with my other illnesses, relearning my limits with my long COVID issues. I has taken away my ability to do the things I love, I used to spend everyday day painting almost all day, I can no longer do this because of chronic fatigue and I used to stream 6 days a week on a good week (I'd of called this my job, since I'm too ill to work), for 6 hours, now I am very limited in how much energy I can put into either. I finally have an appointment at a Post COVID Clinic... but I almost fell over when they told me the cost.. it's expensive and I have to pay up front (we are not sure if my insurance will cover it to get the money back - this we find out when I'm there), this is just the consult and I'm sure there will be follow ups that I have to pay for... If you can help even a little, even by boosting this post I would greatly appreciate it, it'd honestly mean the world to me. (Long) COVID has taken so much away from me, and I'd really like to be able to have a chance to get some normality back in my life. I've set up a Goal on Ko-Fi, if you can or would like to help.

[vodika-vibes]

The ARC and the Monster

Summary: Three months after the events that left him with prosthetic legs and a prosthetic arm, ARC Knight Echo is on a journey to relearn himself. And while on this journey, he discovers a village that doesn't exist.

Pairing: ARC Knight Echo x Reader

Word Count: 5810

Warnings: Mentions of death

Mando'a Used: sen'ika - little bird (according to the website I saw, lol)

A/N: I am very bad at writing fight scenes, I should work on that, lol. This is a twist on Beauty and the Beast, and I'm actually happy with it, which is surprising.

Divider by saradika

“Morning again, darlin’,” You smile tiredly at the merchant, “Bacon and a fresh loaf of bread?”

“I don’t suppose you have anything new?” You ask as you lean against the counter.

The Merchant laughed, “You know I don’t, darlin’. One loaf of bread, and one rack of bacon. As normal.”

You sigh and rest your head on your palm, “I am so tired of bacon.” You say with a sigh.

“Ah, I know darlin’.” He reaches out and lightly pats your hand, “How are things at the palace?”

“Same as ever. As per normal.” You smile at him as you take the bag of food, “How’s the wife?”

“Exhausted. We both are. We never expected our son to be an infant for almost 30 years.” He sighs, he accepts the credits and you wave as you head towards the door.

“Maybe someday the curse will be broken,” You call from the door.

“You won’t find many people who still have hope, darlin’. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wave and step out of the shop, allowing the door to swing shut behind you. You neatly side-step several other people, and start walking the meandering path headed back towards the manor.

At this point, you can walk the path while wearing a blind-fold, you’re so familiar with the path between the village and the old mansion you call home.

You are, or were, the head chef for the Duke of these lands. In charge of all of the cooking and all of the food shopping. At the time it was a good job, high paying with incredible job security, and a chance to move up in the world.

Of course…that’s not what actually happened.

Thirty years ago a stranger appeared at the palace doors on the night of the young Baron’s 15th birthday. The Baron himself answered the door, though it wasn’t his duty, and he sent the guest away with a harsh word and a violent hand.

The Stranger was a Sorceress, and she was so put out by the Baron’s actions that she cursed the entire land. The Duke and Duchess vanished, trapped in a painting to your best guess, the young Baron twisted and changed, until his looks matched his personality…and everyone unfortunate enough to live in this Duchy ended up trapped in a time loop. 

This day, the day of the Baron’s 15th birthday, repeats over and over and over again. And the only way for the Curse to break is if the Baron show’s any true remorse.

But…

Well…

He doesn’t. 

You stop in front of the manor, and then turn to walk around the building to enter through the rear. No need to draw attention to yourself, if at all possible.

There are some good sides to being trapped in a time loop, you suppose as you push the door open. For example, anything that happens today will be reset when the clock strikes midnight. Any dishes that get broken will be repaired, any injuries will be healed, and any money spent will end up right back in your account.

Also, no one can die.

But no one can be born either. 

You kind of feel bad for one of the Housekeepers, she was 7 months pregnant when this whole fiasco began, and now, thirty years later, she’s still 7 months pregnant.

But that not dying has been a boon. Especially those first few years when the Baron was so angry at everything that he lashed out at everyone.

It was incredibly…strange. Getting ripped to shreds and then waking up in bed the next morning like nothing happened.

Luckily, the Baron has since learned that his temper tantrums have no lasting effect, and has since locked himself away. You don’t know what he eats…and to be honest, you don’t care. You have more important things to do than deal with a self important brat.

You step around one of the butlers, who is dutifully dusting a vase, “Good morning, Chaz,” You greet.

“Good morning, Miss.” He replies, “Did you have a nice walk?”

Your smile is wry, “Well, it’s warm and sunny, right now, and not a cloud in the sky. So, I was miserable.”

He chuckles, “I sent the young ones to the kitchen for a baking lesson, they seemed thrilled.”

“Well, if I had the choice between cookies and math, I would choose cookies too, Chaz.” You joke as you lightly pat him on the shoulder, and then step around him.

“Quite right, Miss.” He says with a laugh, “Also, the Young Master is in a foul mood today, I would avoid the southern gardens.”

“When isn’t the Young Master in a foul mood.” You reply, “But I’ll tell people to stay clear.” You toss him one last smile, and walk the short distance from the side entrance to the kitchen, and you set your bag on the counter, “I have bread…and bacon.” you call out to your staff.

The room erupts into groans of dismay. “If I have to have bacon one more time,” One of the maids says dramatically as she drapes herself across the prep table, “I’m going to throw myself off a bridge.”

“That would be impressive since there are no bridges in the Loop.” You counter dryly, “Also. I’m making soup with bacon and chicken.” The moaning slows to a stop, “Great. Also, Chaz says stay out of the Southern Garden. Also, who’s doing baking lessons?”

“Granny’s got the kids,” One of the other maids calls from near the window, “And I saw the young Baron head into the Garden, he looked mad enough to spit fire.”

“Alright everyone, let’s get to work. We have a manor to feed.” You call, and the room devolves into organized chaos, and you smile. Running a kitchen is a dance, and it’s a dance you’ve performed over ten thousand times. Everyone is in their positions, and though the room looks chaotic…well, they’re performing a masterpiece. 

You smile and slide yourself into your position, and begin your part of the dance.

***************

It has been three months since the events that saw ARC Knight Echo losing his arm, and both of his legs in a magical explosion. And while he has prosthetics, and they work well, and he’s comfortable with them, he’s still not comfortable with his new body.

It’s why he went to Rex and asked for time. Time to heal on his own, without people hovering around him. Time to get used to the prosthetics and the way that his body moves now.

And after two weeks of camping, he’s starting to feel more like himself. Still, he’s not quite ready to return home just yet. For all that he claims that he hates camping…he’s actually enjoying himself. Enjoying the hunting and the fishing, and navigating the land with nothing more than a map and a compass.

Still, Echo is beginning to think it’s time to return home. There’s only so much time he can spend on his own before he starts missing his brothers, and starts talking to the trees around him.

He glances at his map, and then at the bridge several feet away, “Well…I’ll get to the top of the hill, and then I’ll turn around and head home.” He says to himself. He looks over the map one more time, and then folds it and slides it into his jacket pocket. He then hefts his bag over his shoulder, and he crosses the bridge.

He walks up the shallow hill, crests the top, and then he stops. Slowly, without moving his eyes, he pulls the map out of his jacket and he looks down at it, and then back in front of him.

There is not supposed to be a village here. And yet there is.

A well settled village, at that. The houses look old, like they’ve been there for a while, and the road is cobbled, rather than dirt. Echo pockets his map, and carefully adjusts his jacket so he’s able to rest his hand on the pommel of his blade.

And then he starts walking down the cobbled road.

This is strange, and he loves solving strange.

******************

Once more, you walk the distance between the manor and the village. You go to the grocers, you buy bacon and bread while making jokes about having literally anything else, and you leave the shop.

Normally you don’t pay any attention to your surroundings, you’ve done this thousands of times now, but for some reason, today you do. Maybe you’re just feeling wistful, remembering the days when you could crest the hill and cross the bridge and head into the forest.

You flicker your gaze towards the village exit, and your breath catches in your throat.

There, standing next to the welcome sign, is a man. A strange man.

And, after thirty years, there are no strange men in this village.

You turn and walk towards him. He’s tall, though not the tallest man you’ve met, with dark skin and dark hair. As you get closer, you notice that his hair is curly, and that he’s got a prosthetic arm.

By the time you’re close enough to talk to him, you’re sure. “You’re from outside,” You breathe out.

He pins you in place with a curious stare, “If you mean that I’m not from this village, then yes, you’re right.” He looks away from you, his dark eyes scanning the village properly, “This village isn’t on any map.”

A pained look crosses your face, “We used to be,” You say quietly, “But…not anymore, I suppose.”

He glances at you, and then at some of the other people in the village, some have stopped what they’re doing to stare at him, while others blatantly ignore him, “Why are they looking at me like that?”

“People don’t come here,” You explain, “I…I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“I’m Echo. Echo Fett. I’m an ARC Knight of Mandalore.” 

You introduce yourself with a smile, “I work at the manor, as the head chef.” You explain as you motion, vaguely, to the manor, “Um, so you asked what people are looking at you-”

“Yeah. They’re staring at me. I know prosthetics aren’t normal-”

“What? No! That doesn’t have anything to do with it.” You hasten to say, as you reach out and touch his arm lightly, “Just…please, will you listen to our story?”

He turns his attention back on you, “Yeah, alright.”

You tug him off the main road, and to a small park. Families used to picnic there, but not anymore. 

You sit on one of the benches, and wait until he’s sitting next to you. “So…what’s the story with this place?” Echo asks.

“Um…okay. So this story begins thirty years ago, on the night of the Baron’s 15th birthday.” You explain, your voice quiet, “You have to understand, the Baron was never a good child. He was always harsh, always cold, always mean…no one ever had anything good to say about him. I can’t even describe just how awful of a boy the Baron is.”

“Okay. So he’s a brat, the son of a Duke?”

“That’s right,” You nod, “Well, there was a surprise visitor. And for some reason the Baron answered the door himself. He turned the stranger away with violence…and it turned out that the stranger was actually a sorceress.”

“Oh no.”

“The entire Duchy was cursed as well.” You say quietly, “The Duke and Duchess were trapped in paintings. The Baron has become a monster. And the rest of us…well, we’re trapped.”

“In what way?” Echo asks.

“We have to live the same day, over and over and over again. We can do different things, within reason, but time never moves on for us.” Your voice is soft, “You’re the first new person we’ve met in years.”

He leans back against the bench, and he doesn’t say anything for a really long time, “So…what happens when time resets with me still here?”

You bite your lower lip, “I don’t know.” You hesitate, “I would suggest staying away from the manor, though. Until we know if the loop affects you…you need to stay away from the baron.”

“Why?” Echo asks.

“Because he’ll kill you.”

Echo stills, and something flinty enters his eyes, “Does he kill people often?”

“Oh, he hasn’t killed any of his employees in five years now.” You try to soothe, “And, well, it resets at midnight anyway, so…”

“Does that make it better?” Echo asks, his voice very gentle.

Your hands shake slightly as you remember razor sharp claws and teeth dripping with saliva, “...no.” You admit. You clench your hands tightly in your lap, to try and stop the trembling.

Echo glances at your hands, and reaches to place one of his hands over yours, “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” 

“For now.” You answer softly, your hands moving slightly to lightly grip his hand, the metal is cool under your hands, but is also soothing somehow, “It’s why you need to leave.” You say as you look from his hand to his face, “If you stay here-”

“No.” He interrupts, he smiles at you to soften the harshness of his word, “Look, you said that the curse is based around the Baron, right?”

“Yeah. He changed, and then his parents were trapped in the painting, and then the duchy was trapped in the loop. In that order.” You reply.

“Okay, so with the curse centered on the Baron, then to kill the curse we need to kill the Baron,”

You’re already shaking your head, “He’s too violent. If we get too close to him he’ll kill us.”

Echo frowns thoughtfully, “Then I’ll do it.”

You start and stare at him with wide eyes.

“I’m an ARC Knight, this is what we do.” Echo explains, his voice very kind.

“Free people from decade long curses?” You ask doubtfully.

He laughs softly, “Fight things that other people can’t.” He squeezes your hand, very gently, “Trust me.”

You hesitate for a long moment, and then you slowly nod. “Okay Echo.”

He smiles at you and gently releases your hands, “I’m going to need your help. Can you get me into the manor?”

Your gaze lingers on his clothing for a moment, and anxiety twists your stomach, “What if he claws you?” You ask, “His claws are…they ripped through me in one…”

Echo reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small metal orb, it’s glowing faintly, “This is an armor sphere. This is where I store my ARC armor when I’m not actively using it. Don’t worry, sen’ika, I’ll be wearing armor when I fight the Baron.”

“...okay.” You stand and gather your shopping bag in your arms, “Then you should probably follow me.”

“Yes ma’am,”

Echo follows you through the streets, and down the path that leads to the manor, and he follows you around the building to the side entrance. You hold the door to the manor open for him, and he steps into the worn down hallway that leads to the servants quarters.

Chaz is waiting for you. His severe gaze looks from Echo, to you, and then back to Echo. “The Young Master is in the library,” He says in a clipped tone, “I have instructed everyone to remain in their rooms for the time being.” He exhales slowly, and then lightly touches Echo on the shoulder, “Good luck, young man.”

“Thank you,” Echo replies, growing slightly startled when Chaz bows deeply, and then turns and vanishes into a side room. “Sen’ika, I need someplace to put my armor on.” He says to you.

“We can use the kitchen, it’s the one place in the manor the Baron never comes to.” You say, “Plus it’ll be empty right now.”

“Great, lead the way.” He follows you down a side hallway and into the kitchen, where you help him clear one of the prep tables, and he activates the little sphere, and lays all of his armor out on the table, and he quickly starts strapping the pieces to his body, “Where’s the library?” He asks.

“It’s part of the main building, on the third floor.” You explain, “You’ll never find it unless I show you…it’s not like there are any maps of the manor.”

He cuts his gaze towards you, “I don’t want you anywhere near the fighting.”

“I’ll be careful,” You reply, “But you’ll never find it without me.”

He sighs quietly, “Fine, but you will listen when I tell you to do something.”

“Yes sir,”

He finishes pulling his armor on, and he hooks his blade to his hip and then grabs his helmet, “Alright. How big is the library?”

“Massive. The Duchess was all for education.” You answer as you head out of the kitchen and into the hall, “She purchased several copies of every book ever printed and all of them are kept in the library.”

“So it’s cramped?”

“Less so than you might assume…it’s just very big.” You guide him through the twisting halls, until you reach the main living quarters. Unlike the servants quarters, which are clean and well maintained, the main house is dimly lit.

The wallpaper is ripped and torn, and there are some places where the wooden floorboards have been ripped up and flung into the wall. Pictures have been torn to shreds, and none of the furniture is usable. “The Baron did all of this?”

You nod, “He destroys the house every morning…at this point it doesn’t even take him an hour to destroy the house.” You carefully step around one of the floorboards, “Follow me, we need to go upstairs.”

You move silently through the house, and Echo is just as quiet, in spite of the armor he’s wearing. Finally you stop in front of an ornate door, “Is this the library?” Echo asks, his voice hushed.

“It is,” You hesitate, “You can still leave, Echo.”

“I’m not doing that.” Echo replies.

You sigh softly, and then you push the door open just enough that the pair of you can enter. Just like every other room in the main house, the library is destroyed, but you lightly touch Echo’s arm and you point at the ceiling, “There.”

Echo’s gaze follows your finger and he inhales sharply, “That used to be a man?” He asks.

The creature is shrouded in shadow, with claws long enough to rip a man to shreds without trying, and teeth that barely remain in his jaw. He clings to the ceiling, as though gravity has no effect on him. 

“Yes,” You whisper, “That used to be the Baron.”

Echo motions for you to get back, and draws his blade, “How do I get him down?” He hisses.

You glance at him nervously, and then you lift your fingers to your mouth, and you release a loud whistle that echoes through the chamber. And then you immediately duck under a fallen bookcase.

The Baron’s eyes snap open, revealing blood red eyes, and he releases a noise that sounds like a million angry snakes hissing at the same time. And you watch as the Baron moves, lunging at Echo with his terrifying speed.

But Echo is just as fast, and his blade is just as sharp as the Baron’s claws. 

You watch, terrified, as Echo proves just how good the average ARC Knight is, and you gasp when, in a smooth motion, Echo severs the Baron’s head from his body.

You slide out from your hiding space, and take several steps towards Echo, when the pressure in the room changes suddenly. You clamp your hands over your ears as the pressure increases and becomes painful.

You feel Echo’s hand lightly against your shoulder, and just barely hear him calling your name. And then there’s the sensation of a baseball bat slamming against your chest and the world goes dark.

**********

You wake with a painful groan. Your entire body hurts, and your head is throbbing. You let out a noise of discontent as your bedroom door bursts open and Chaz hurries in, “Good you’re awake. Get up, get dressed.”

You groan and roll out of bed, landing on the floor with a painful thump, “Why does everything hurt?” You rasp out.

“You were standing right there when the curse reset,” Chaz replies as he pulls you to your feet, “You took the brunt of the reset.” He explains.

“Oh…it sucks.”

“It does.” He agrees as he shoves an outfit into your hands, “Get dressed, you need to get out of the manor.”

You clumsily take the clothes and start peeling off your sleepwear, replacing them with the loose tunic Chaz gave you, “Why?”

“Echo killed the Baron yesterday, didn’t he?” Chaz asks in return.

“Yeah. He did. But if the world reset-”

“I broke a plate yesterday, it’s still broken.”

Your fingers pause on the ties of your shirt, “That’s impossible.”

“It’s improbable, but killing the Baron caused a change. You need to go back to the village and see if you can find Echo. He’s not in the manor.” Chaz pauses and leans in, “I think he was flung outside of the loop, since he’s not a part of it.” He motions to the blue and black backpack sitting in the corner of your room.

You pull your trousers on, and then pull on your boots, “That makes sense,” you say quietly, “What if he doesn’t come back?”

“He’ll come back. I have a good feeling.” Chaz replies, and then he grips your shoulders tightly, “Listen. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I think if we kill the Baron once for every year that we’ve been cursed, the curse will break.”

“30 deaths? There’s no way. We already know that the Baron remembers things that happen in previous resets.” You remind him, “There’s only so many times that Echo will be able to kill him with a sword.”

“Agreed. Don’t worry, we’ll handle it.” Chaz pushes you out the door, “Now go!”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You allow him to propel you out of your room, and down the hall, and then out the side door, and he slams the door behind you.

You huff out a heavy breath, and groan as pain shoots through you. You slowly walk the familiar path to the village, where you’re greeted by enthusiastic shouts. The grocer is missing a loaf of bread he sold the day before. The baker’s flour level is down just a little bit.

There’s change for the first time in years.

You walk to the Village sign, and lean heavily against it, your arm folded protectively against your ribs. You had forgotten how pain lingered. You don’t like it.

Your head snaps up when you see movement from in front of you, and a relieved smile crosses your face when Echo, still clad in armor, walks over to you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

He pulls his helmet off, “Are you? I found myself on the other side of the bridge when I woke up. Why are you holding your ribs?”

“They’re bruised, I think.” You reply, “I woke up in bed because of the reset.”

“So it didn’t work.” Echo says with a frown.

“Well, it is. But the curse is just…cracked. At least, that’s what we think.” You step closer to him, “Chaz broke a plate yesterday, and it’s still broken.”

Echo frowns, “You have a theory?”

“We think that if the Baron dies once for every year that we’ve been trapped here, the curse will break.”

“Thirty deaths?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Echo exhales sharply, “How many more times can I use my sword before he learns how to avoid it?”

“Better to not risk trying it again,” You reply as you reach out and take Echo’s hand, “But, we have lots of weapons…assuming you know how to use them.”

“I haven’t encountered a weapon I can’t use,” Echo replies dryly, “Come on, back to the manor.”

“Yeah.” This time Echo guides you to the manor, and through the side door.

Chaz is sitting in the kitchen with one of every weapon from the armory, “He’s in the west garden today,” He says as soon as he sees Echo, “Which one of these do you want?”

Echo presses his blade into your hands, “Keep this safe for me,” He says, and you nod, curling your arms around it, while he picks through the weapons, eventually grabbing a pair of axes which he spins expertly, “How do I get to the west garden?”

“I’ll show you,” You say.

“You’re already hurt,” Chaz says, “I’ll show you,” He says to Echo.

“But-”

Echo smiles at you as he pulls his helmet on, “Don’t worry, sen’ika. I’ll be fine.”

You watch him walk out the room, led by Chaz, and you tighten your grip around Echo’s blade.

***********

You wake up in your bed, dressed in the tunic and pants from the day before, with your arms wrapped securely around Echo’s blade.

You lay in bed for ten minutes. Whatever Echo did to the Baron clearly worked, since the day reset less than three hours after it began.

You roll out of your bed, and hurry out of the manor. And by the time you reach the village sign, Echo is waiting for you, his arms folded. “You’re okay?” You ask as soon as you’re close enough.

“A few bruises,” Echo replies as he takes his blade back, “I don’t want to get close to him again, I don’t think.”

“We’ll figure something out.” You say as you hug him quickly.

“I’m sure we will.”

The third death involves a massive amount of crossbows, which pin the Baron to the wall of the ballroom.

The eighth death involves a truly terrifying amount of fire.

The fifteenth death involves an explosive made from flour and gunpowder.

“Halfway there,” Echo says as he leans back on the bench in the garden, “Only fifteen more deaths.”

“Are you okay?” You ask as you reach out and touch a bruise on his cheek.

“Just exhausted, sen’ika.” He smiles at you, “The people sure seem happy with all of the changes,” He notes.

“Change is good, Echo. Being trapped is…it’s a kind of hell. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” You say quietly. 

“Well, with any luck, you’ll soon be free from this curse.” Echo says with a grin, “What’ll you do first?”

“Leave. I’m going to go literally anywhere else, and I’m never going to eat bacon again.”

Echo laughs, “Maybe I’ll take you back to Mandalore with me,” he says lightly, “It’s very different from this little village.”

“Oh, I’d like that-” You start to say, only to pause when something hits your face. The bustle of the village, just one street over, descends into silence, as the sky opens and rain starts falling.

You scramble to your feet, holding your hands out as the cool water splashes against your hands. And then you laugh, “Rain,” You whisper, “It’s raining!” You laugh again and spin in the rain, turning to grin at Echo, “Echo! You brought the rain back!”

From the next street over you can hear triumphant shouting, cheers of delight, and laughter.

You spin away from Echo, giggles of sheer delight falling from your lips as you stand in the pouring rain.

And Echo…well, he leans his elbows on his knees and he watches you with a fond smile on his lips. And when loud music starts playing the next street over, he gets to his feet, and he lightly takes your hand in his, an impish look crossing his face, “May I have this dance?”

You grin at him, and spin into his arms, “You may,” You agree as you look up into his eyes.

The seventeenth death involves an intricate trap with ropes, pulleys, and the heaviest bookshelf in the manor.

The twenty-first death involves a pit filled with lances.

The twenty-ninth death is much more straightforward, with Echo using a truly amazing number of potions to kill the Baron.

“This is the last one,” You whisper as you apply a healing ointment to Echo’s arm, and then reach up to patch up the bruise on his cheek.

“I think you’re more worried about this than I am.” Echo teases as he gently grabs your wrist, and lowers them away from his face, “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

“This is the closest we’ve been to freedom in years, Echo. I’m just…I’m nervous, that’s all.”

He smiles at you, warm and soft, and he leans in and lightly presses his forehead against yours, “There’s no need to be nervous.” He murmurs, “I’m going to take care of you.”

You release a shaky breath, “Okay. Are you sure you want to use your sword?” You ask one more time, just to make sure.

He laughs softly, “Yes. I’m sure. He won’t be expecting it.”

“But-”

Echo presses a light kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Trust me, cyar’ika. This is for the best.”

“I do trust you, but I’m still nervous.” You murmur, even as heat floods your face at his gentle kiss.

He smiles reassuringly at you, and gently releases you, “Go and take your position.”

You nod once, and take half a step back. Then you hesitate, and step back towards him and stand on your toes to press a kiss against his cheek, “Good luck, Echo.” And then you turn and hurry away.

Echo lets out a quiet chuckle, and then he pulls his helmet on. He walks the familiar path to the main room of the house, and he glances up at the second floor, where all of the employees of the Manor are standing, watching.

There’s the sound of angry hissing, and then the Baron is there. Twenty-nine deaths have left the creature angry and paranoid. Angry enough that his gaze was locked on Echo, and not any of the innocent people in the room.

Echo spins his blade with the ease of someone who knows what he’s doing and he takes a step towards the creature, “It’s time for this to end.” Echo says flatly.

The creature snarls and throws himself at Echo.

But Echo has already killed this creature twenty-nine times. He knows how he moves, how he acts in a given situation, and he’s clever enough to be able to make educated guesses on how he’ll react in unknown situations.

The whole encounter has already played out, hundreds of different times, in Echo’s mind. He already knows how it’s going to end. And so do the people watching the last fight.

Echo moves, just enough out of the way to not get hurt. He activates the runes on the blade, and he strikes. The Baron releases an inhuman scream, and spins to try and flee, but Echo strikes two more times. 

And the creature falls still.

Nothing happens for a long moment. And then the shadows that cover the creature disperse in every direction, washing over all of the people, then across everything in the Duchy, and then the shadows vanish as if they never existed to begin with.

You look at the massive clock on the wall and you watch as the calendar and time speed up to match the current day and year, and then you hurry down the stairs, “Echo!”

He pulls his helmet off and grunts as you crash into his side, “I’m okay, he didn’t even touch me.” His arm slides around your shoulder as you hug him tightly.

“No!” You both turn at the wail coming from the young man kneeling on the ground, “No! How could you? I was strong! I had power!” The Baron, a teenager again, gets to his feet, his teeth bared. “I’ll kill you!”

Echo lightly pushes you behind him as the teenager lunges at him. He draws his fist back, and then slams his fist into the boys face, sending him reeling back to the ground, “On the authority given to me by the Royal Family of Mandalore, you’re under arrest.”

“I was cursed!” The boy spat, “You can’t arrest me for being cursed!”

“No, but I can arrest you for the repeated murders of your employees. Just because it didn’t stick doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Echo says flatly, and then he presses the tip of his blade against the teenager’s throat, “Unless you think that none of them will testify against you.”

The boy hesitates and then looks away.

“That’s what I thought.” Echo effortlessly cuffs him, and then tosses him against a wall.

“So…what happens next?” Chaz asks.

“I have to make a phone call to Mandalore, we’ll get people out here to help you all get resettled. Thirty years is a long time, my friend.” Echo says as he clasps Chaz’s shoulder, “Although, unless anyone wants to stay here, we’ll probably reach out to different nations to help you get settled somewhere else.” He smiles at the group of people, “A new start…for all of you.”

He steps away from Chaz as the older man begins giving orders for information to get passed onto the village proper, and he leaves the manor. You chase after him, “So, what happens with me, then?”

“A new start,” Echo says, stopping as you hurry to his side, “Doing whatever you want, wherever you want.”

“What if I want to stay near you?” You ask.

He pauses and looks at you, “Well, I might be able to help with that.” Echo says with a slow smile. “If that’s what you really want.”

You hum thoughtfully, “You brought the rain back, Echo. And you fought for our freedom. There’s nothing I want more than to stay with you.”

He laughs softly, “Come here, sen’ika.”

You step closer to him and he lightly hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, and then he lightly bumps his forehead against yours.

“I have an idea,” Echo says lazily, “How about, once I make this call, we go down to the village and buy sandwiches from the cafe, and we have a picnic while we wait for help to arrive?”

You rest your hands on his chest plate, “Like a date?” You ask softly.

“Exactly like a date,” He confirms.

You smile at him brightly, and you raise up on your toes to brush your lips against his, “I like that idea.”

He smiles against your lips, “Glad to hear it, cyar’ika. Now, I really do need to make this call, but you don’t have to move if you don’t want to. Actually, they’re probably going to have some questions for you, so it’s best that you don’t move-”

You grin and lay your cheek against his shoulder, it’s not a happily ever after, not yet at least, but it’s a start and that’s all you can ask for. 

[nathscalet]

Fourth Chapter - And they say romance it´s dead

You ended up seduncing some retired pirates

You were walking through the sabody archipelago, you had delivered your first work to the tenryuubitos.

  You were on the island for the first time on you own, and decided to take a stroll.

 You wandered aimlessly, going from place to place in the lawless area, till you spotted a bar.

 "One beer please."

 "One moment ~" the attendant said "Dozo, sorry for the delay |"

 "All right."  You spoke drinking the beer in silence and looking at the bar

 "Are you looking for someone ojou-Chan?"

 "No, I'm just admiring the bar. Very cozy"

 "Thanks for the compliment ~"

 "..." you finished drinking the beer and ordered another bottle

 "Tell me what a girl like you does around here."  Shakky sat in front of the counter and took your features into account.  You didn't have the stereotype of a pirate nor a thief, but you can't judge a book by its cover.  "I doubt that a young girl like you is a pirate."

 "I am not. I am ... a painter."

 "Hmm, you don't seem so sure about this ~"

 "It is new job."

 "Ohh, so it must be hard to get customers ~"

 "no ... I'm just not used to this environment. Painting was part of my rehabilitation and an old skill that I'm relearning to ... enjoy the pleasure of it."  You looked at nothing

 "Heh, you have a way with words too, you would be a great poet."

 "Hah, thank you" a sincere smile appeared on your face that was slightly flushed

 "You have a beautiful smile, you should smile more ojou-chan."

 "Ah, you can call me (y / n)."

 "No last name?"

 "None."

 "Hmm, you can call me shakky"

 "Nice to meet you shakky" you shook the brunette's hand, and she noticed how callous it was, but they were gentle.  "nice to meet you y/n chan"

 "What is a young woman like you doing here in this area alone?"

 "Oya, huhuhuh do you think I'm young? Thanks ~ but as you can see I'm working."

 "Heh, you are very well then, you could pass for a teenager if you wanted to but I think that a mature beauty suits you more."

 "Pretty gallant you."

 "No, no, I'm just telling you the truth. You really are very beautiful."

 "Heh ~ a pity, I'm married"

 "Huh, where's your shakky san husband?"

 "Oh, he must be out there having fun with some young lady."

 "..."

 " Are you okay?"

 "How can he leave a beauty like you alone ?! - you took the brunette's hands. - Unpardonable! And still go out with other people!

 shakky was trying to keep from laughing.  You really were a very romantic young woman. (If we consider being a homewrecker romantic?)

- What are you going to do in my defense then y / n chan ~?

 You looked at the watch. "Shakky san, go on a date with me. I can't let this go unnoticed, it doesn't suit me."

 "You are very daring y / n -chan ~. My husband may not like it ~"

 "That´s his problem, I'll deal with him later."  You gave the brunette a confident smile this time, your eyes were sharper and brighter.

 You went from a cute, rich young woman to a delicious housewreker.

 "Heh ~ I haven't been on a date in a while."

 "Then I will make it a point to make this the best shakky san date!"  You stood up and held out your hand to the brunette "Shall we go?"

 She looked at your hand and at you.  What an encounter with a beautiful young woman can be too "let's go."

 "What would you like to do first shakky san?"

 "Umm ... I haven't been on a date for a while ... so whatever you choose is fine. I like surprises ~" she wanted to see what you would do

 "... okay. You can count on me ... It's a little late for lunch, so ... do you want to go to the amusement park?"

 "That would be lovely."

 You have been on several roller coasters.  You were able to cut the queue at the attractions because the employees saw who you were working for.  So it was a really fun afternoon.

 "Shakky san, here! Here!"

 "What is it?" - You put a tiara with antenna on it. "You look cute with them."

 "Ara, thanks y / n-chan."  She spoke while eating the flower-shaped cotton candy you bought.  "The ferris wheel was very good, I had forgotten how beautiful this archipelago was."

 "Glad you like."

 "Yes, the meeting was fun🙃"

 "Ah? It's not over yet."

 "No?"

 "I promised, the best date for you. That was just a warm-up and a pass, until the time I wanted."

 "Ohh ~ tell me then what have you been preparing ?!"

 "This is going to be a surprise!

 "I can't wait ~"

 Walking hand in hand, you took shakky to a boutique in the archipelago.

 "You can choose what you want. For our date tonight"

 "Hunhum you shouldn't say that to an ex-pirate y / n-chan ~ I can suck you completely ~

 "You were a pirate ~ what a surprise ~ but okay, I'm here to satisfy your desires."  You got up from the chair and took Shakky's hand, turning it in place and turning it over to the mirror. "

 "You really are spoiling me y / n-chan"

 "Nothing is too much for you. Today you will be treated like the queen you deserve to be"

 After several dresses, heels, jewelry and accessories.  They finally found the ideal, but that doesn't mean you didn't buy the others she liked.

 "You really spent a lot> :(

 "Heki heki. Ready for the date?"

 "more ready impossible."

 You took shakky to a famous restaurant in Sabody.  There you were chatting away, getting to know each other more deeply, while drinking wine.

 "Hen ~ so it was you who were causing all the commotion ~ I never imagined that any civilian would be allowed to go up to mariesjoes."

 "Yes, it was quite a commotion."

 "You really must paint magnificent pictures to get the attention of a nobleman ~ show me one next time"

 "for sure, next time i showed you my works."

 "I hope you enjoyed our meeting"

 "Mama, the date was fantastic y / n chan ~ I had fun as I haven't done in a long time. And I still got pampering from you."

 "You're welcome. I'm happy to have made your day bright."  You took the hand and gave a kiss "It was a pleasure to meet you shakky! Until next time"

 "Hmm ~"

 "Hah! Before I forget! Here's my free card. You can come to me when you want one to have a distraction!"  You winked at her.

 "Fufuf, I really like your confident and playful side. Even more y / n ~ chan thanks for the treats."

 1 month later

 Hi shakky san!  Sashiburi dana!

 Oh y / n ~ chan!  How long have I missed you.  I'm glad you didn't forget me

 Never that I could have forgotten a face like yours.

 Huhuhuh, you are still charming.  I'm surprised you don't have someone special yet, it shouldn't be difficult to find someone with your face.

 Heh ?!  Well, you can be that person then.  - you said sitting on the counter and supporting your face in your hand

 Shakky came out from behind the counter and sat next to you.  "Are you interested in chasing me romantically y / n ~ chan?"

 "I can say that I don't care"

 "Mah ~ are you willing to face my husband?"

 "I do not care."

 "Oi shakky! I'm back!"  An old man entered the bar

 "Oh ray-san, how long."

 "It's been awhile- oh you're with customers. Hello"

 "Is that your husband Shakky san?"

 "Yea."

 "Soka."  You said getting up and going towards the man

 "Oh, aren't you a little young to be drinking young lady?"

 "I do not like you."  You spoke short and thick

 "Pfff-"

 "Huh !?"

 "To be honest, I can't see what she saw in you to get married. You are a selfish old man. Womanizer. Unworthy of shakky san."

 "Pfff- Ray-san looks like you have competition now."  - Shakky was having fun without a doubt

 "Hah! Oi what is this is about? young lady-"

 "My name is y / n."

 "Y / n -chan-"

 "Please don't call me that, we are not friends and I don't like you."

 "She said 2x"

 "Ara, it looks like she doesn't like you ray-san"

 "I realized.😅 listen y / n. I am the husband of the shakky"

 "Are you or were you?"

 "I am!"

 "Not for long."

 "Mah mah ~ how exciting!"

 "Shakky! You shouldn't be encouraging her!"

 "Ara ~ but I really like y / n chan ~ she took me on a magnificent date. And comforted me when you weren't ray-san ~"

 "..."

 You sent the old man a smirk.

 He was slightly irritated.

 Shakky looked with interest at the interaction between you.

 "Mah mah, now I don't know who I should choose ~"

 "Are you being serious shakky?"  Rayleigh asked excitedly and shocked

 "Yes, I am ~  I was enchanted by her charm"

"..."

 You sent the old man a smirk.

 He was slightly irritated.

 Shakky looked with interest at the interaction between you.

 "Mah mah, now I don't know who I should choose ~"

 "Are you being serious shakky?" 

 "Yes, I am ~ Y / n - chan enchanted me with your charm"

 "..."

 "..."

 "..."

 "I suggest a duel."  You spoke.

 !

 !

 "Heh ~ y / n chan are you sure? Ray-san may not look like it but he is very strong."

 "Me either."  You flexed your arm muscles (nice triceps)

 "Ojou-chan do you know who I am?"

 "No."  He spoke in the face of a stick

 "Let me, introduce myself then. Silvers Rayleigh -King of darkness."

 "Titles are insignificant to me, but now I know what to put in your grave."

 "Heh, you are very confident that you can kill me"

 "Well, your pride, I'm sure I can send to the coffin."

 .

 "You know how to use y / n-chan swords ~ what a surprise ~ I thought you were just a painter."

 "Also served in the army."  You spoke by testing the sword you bought at a store there.  "but now let's get started."

 You and Rayleigh looked at each other, analyzing each other.  Deciding what is the best approach in this fight.

 Both had smiles on their faces, mockery, they had not fought in a long time.

 You decided to move forward, with slow and calculated steps: Eco rhythm.

 A murder move that consisted of walking in circles around the opponent at the same speed and pace that created the illusion of several (y / n) surrounding him.

Shakky was a little apprehensive, she didn't know what the outcome of this fight would be (meaning she didn´t know the extent of your injures). She just hoped that no one would be seriously injured.

 "Huh? Interesting trick, but aren't you going to attack me?"  That was the cue.

 A y/n came out of the circle, ready to cut it.

 Clashh.  Zzzihhh

 The sound of swords clashing.  Both were trying to overlap each other by force.

 You made a noise of pain when you were thrown back.  Hitting the giant tree, leaving a crater.

 "Apparently, I won't be able to take it easy on you."  Rayleigh let you feel the King's Haki

 You felt a pressure on your head and your body trembled.  Just like the captain.  How long have you not felt this pressure.  No doubt he was strong. But not strong enough to stop you.

You looked him dead in the eye, a cold burning will in your eyes, you sprinted in his direction again, coating the sword in haki, getting on his body range you rotated your body, clashing swords, making a crater on the ground where he was standing.

”you’re good old man. But that won’t be enough to stop me.” You pointed your sword at him a confident smile on your face

 

 "That is enough."

 "Huh? Don't tell me you're going to give up old man?"

 "This fight is meaningless."

 "What are you talking about?"

 "Shakky was just playing with you. She didn't told you that we are in an open relationship."

 "Huh?"

 "Gomen y / n-chan you were so committed that I couldn't resist ~ your reactions were extremely cute and innocent."

 "Heh ?! Were you playing with me shakky?"  You looked into the brunette's eyes with a dog-like look that fell from the moving truck

 Shot in the heart (highly effective blow) Shakky even held her chest feeling just a little bit guilty.

 "Ma ma, don't get carried away by this detail. I saw that you really like the shakky, even though you realized that you were fighting someone stronger you didn't turn yellow. You have fiber. I like that."  Rayleigh ruffled his hair

 "..."

 "I'm glad that Shakky found someone like you."  Rayleigh patted her on the back

 "..." - she sigh.  You closed your eyes and looked at the sky for an instant.  Empty eyes.  Before getting back to normal.

 "Y / n ~ chan you will forgive me will you not ~?

 "I don't like to share."  You spoke

 "Pff-"

 "Ahahahaha !! I could tell!"

 "I am possessive - you continued" My ideals of relationships are totally distorted ... I have no experience in the matter of love ... I do not understand my own feelings at times ... " A empty look took your face

 "Y / n ~ chan ..."

 "..."

 "I ... am lost ... I don't know what to do."  Rayleigh saw an empty expression appear. That lifeless expression didn't suit you.

 Rayleigh picked you up in princess style and you started to trash in his hold.  Putting you back on the floor and in the middle of the two like a human sandwich

 "Let's close the relationship."

 "Um ?! Are you sure Ray-san?"

 "Yes, it will be just me, you and the newest member of the relationship."

 "What?"

 "You said yourself that you don't know what to do and you're not sure about your feelings. So let me decide for you."  - Rayleigh took her hand "We are in a serious relationship starting today."

 " A... relationship ... with ... shakky and ... you?"

 "Yes, that is if you accept."

 "... what do I have to lose? - sigh" I accept. "

 Dating

 👌 Meetings in unusual places check

 👌Pampering for both of them check

 👌 After the fight, you and Rayleigh became good partners.

 👌 Evening conversations

 LeRayleigh tells of his pirate adventures.  Shakky also shares little of her adventures, but they are not as exciting as those of the vice-captain.

 👌 Master chef contest.  None of you are cooks, but you know how to make excellent foods.  Once in a while there is competition between you to see who made the best dish.

 👌 When you felt more comfortable in the relationship, you started to show your affection.  One of his loving languages in addition to acts of service and quality time is physical touch.  You didn't have anyone in childhood and now that you have, you can enjoy physical contact.

 👌 Both are your little dogs when you decide to have a massage.  If you ask for the moon or world domination in a session they are able to do that.

 Bedroom activities

 🍋 Rayleigh and shakky san were very excited

 🍋Both generally like to take their time, teasing you

 🍋 both had loose hands that liked to pass over your entire body

 🍋 the first few times were expressly shy with them

 🍋 Rayleigh was a gentleman with you the first time.  He tested what's in the green and red area on the scab and rolls

 🍋 When Rayleigh realized you could take it and didn't even care much about aggressive, messy sex.  Things got a little bit exciting

 🍋 All of you live for your strip tease.  Being a stripper gave you an immaculate sex appeal.

 🍋 When you and he got along, you started to appreciate the man too

  Rayleigh and you are people pleasers

 🍋 They are willing to try everything in bed with you.

 🍋After care is excellent.  Full of caresses, words of affirmation and bathtub with the right to wine

 Scenario 🍋

 You were riding Rayleigh while shakky was also on top of him, riding his face.

  Rayleigh watched the interaction between you excited and curious.  This gave more energy to increase the pace of the hype.

  Fay-san already knew your weaknesses, he was hitting everyone, which was making you bewildered and seeing stars.

 His expression became more erotic when you were approaching your orgasm.

 "What a great expression you look y / n chan" shakky said as he massaged her breasts and traced her scars

 "let me look too shakky" Rayleigh asked

  When he saw your expression, it was a blow that took the air out of his stomach.  "What a wonderful expression. It makes me want to see more of them in you."

 "o-stop saying i-that and-i and-I'm ashamed!"

 "I can't, you're too cute!"

  When you and Rayleigh synchronized orgasm with the aid of shakky.  You fell on the bed.  Exhausted and sweaty.  Rayleigh pulled him into his arms along with shakky.

it was a great relationship, very healthy despise the age gap, but everything must come to an end, Rayleigh felt he was stealing your time, he and shakky were old, as much he liked you, you should share a lifetime with someone you love not a slice.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 30 – FIX-IT

SERIES: Post-Infinity War Snippets by romanoff

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 7,059 Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD

Reasons why I love it: At this point, it's probably no secret that I love everything that romanoff has ever written, and this collection of one-shots includes some of my favorite fics of theirs. The pain is so raw and real, and since Infinity War was one of the first Marvel movies I ever watched (I know, I was a late bloomer) this part of canon is especially near and dear to my heart. I really hope you check them out, because they're all amazing.

This series consists of:

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,133 Tags: Loss, Mentions of Tony/Pepper, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Written for the prompt: hi i don't know if you're active on this blog but i read your last prompt on ao3 and i was wondering if you could give me some tony/steve angst post infinity war?? any closure will do no pressure thank u bye Steve and Tony seek closure with a conversation.

Reasons why I love it: Well, shoot me in the heart, why don't you? Seeing Tony so broken after what happened in Infinity War just breaks my heart, even more so than the movies did. And the way Steve approaches him is so tender despite everything. I love this fic so much, and if you're looking for some canon-adjacent angst, this one is a must-read!

all that remains

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,269 Tags: Loss, PTSD, BAMF Nebula

Summary: Nebula and Tony are left on Titan, united by a common goal

Reasons why I love it: I love how Nebula's response to trauma and grief is to become absolutely ruthless in pursuing her revenge, by any means necessary. And her introspections about Tony are super interesting, they really paint a picture of who they both are in this universe. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

earth's greatest defender

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 818 Tags: Civil War, Flip Phone, Misunderstandings

Summary: Written for the prompt: 'your post-IW snippets are killing me in the best way AHHHHHH - could you write the call scene between bruce and steve, with steve thinking at first that it was Tony calling? that would be amazing, thank you!' Steve gets the call sitting in an old motel outside Albany.

Reasons why I love it: I've recommended this fic on its own before, but you bet your ass I'm going to do it again. The dialogue in this really gets under my skin, Steve's pain is so palpable. And I love that last sentence at the end, it's just the right kind of gut punch to leave off with. The angst is amazing, and if you want to get a little crushed today, definitely read this one!

when the dust settles

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,839 Tags: Team as Family, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Summary: What’s left of the Avengers regroup and offer each other some much needed support.

Reasons why I love it: This is so fucking sad and yet strangely cathartic at the same time. I know this doesn't really scream fix-it, but to me it still kind of does. Because with the team back together again and relearning to trust each other, I like to believe that in this timeline, they really do manage to save everyone. I love all of these fics, so I really hope you go and experience it for yourself!

[worldsentwined]

Oooo 14, 28, 33

14. what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do? OH BOY I am saving this question to give to my therapist the next time I see her, because I just like. Fully bluescreened for a minute after reading it haha. (The concepts of "always wanted to" and "been scared of but still wanted to do" are uhhh challenging for me). But! After much consideration, I think we can put "relearn to ride a bike" in this category. I was taught as a kid, but I have a vivid memory of saying "I'm doing it!" and then immediately falling over and that's...the last I remember of the bike learning process. It wasn't exactly useful as a means of transportation where I grew up, and there were other more fun ways to get exercise, so I just...didn't. Now that I live in a place where there are more opportunities, it would be nice to know how, but the fear of falling hasn't diminished and in fact has probably gotten worse as I've aged.

28. do you collect anything? Not precisely on purpose, but I have acquired a steady stream of enamel pins and buttons (particularly union buttons) over the past few years. Most of the union buttons would expose a little more info about me than I necessarily want to put on Tumblr, but here is a selection that lives on one of my jackets:

33. any hobbies? The short answer here is "SO MANY". Long answer, I'm a bit of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to certain categories of hobby, which are:

fiber crafts - Crochet and hand sewing (particularly mending) are my favorites, but over the years I have tried my hand at quilting, knitting, spinning, embroidery, needle felting, and probably a few others I've forgotten

visual/fine arts - drawing and painting (watercolor) are my favorites, but I have played around with most kinds of paint and various forms of sculpture. I actually majored in art but I kinda knew the whole time that I didn't see it as a professional plan, just something I wanted to learn more about. I've also been doing a lot of digital painting over the past few years, which is entirely self-taught.

writing - fanfic! Original fic! Poetry! Filk! Several attempts at novels have also been made, I spent a number of years working on longform projects before I got into writing fanfic and realized short form writing (for a given value of "short") is a little more manageable.

TTRPGs - I'm in two different tabletop roleplaying groups (one online for DnD, one in-person for the Marvel Super Heroes RPG)

Music - I joined a local labor choir last year and it has become one of my favorite things. "Choir" is a bit of a misnomer, but there's not a more concise word for "ragtag group of folks who hang out and sing union and anti-fascist songs together for two hours a week, who WILL show up at your protest, rally, or picket line if you tell us about it" haha. We actually are working on some more formal choral arrangements for upcoming May Day festivities, but at any given practice we're just as likely to go on a "songs about public transit" or "how many different languages can we sing in tonight" deep dive.

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

Hi! I absolutely love all the art you create and you're honestly a big inspiration for me. I don't know if you've talked about this before, but are there any tutorials (or other resources) that you would recommend to someone for improving their art? Have a great day <3

Hey! Thank you so much! I do have a couple tutorials on my Tiktok (PinchOfPeppers), but honestly, I think you're going to get more help from professional artists. I'm still learning and don't often feel very confident in my art yet to provide many tips. Here are the resources I use:

Sketches Of Shay is a great resource for digital painting, formatting, and composition. This video in particular helps me understand color theory a lot more. She also has an anatomy guide that helps immensely.

Morpho - Simplified Forms is the anatomy artbook for me. I always got lost in the sauce when trying to understand anatomy from other, more detailed artists, so this helped summarize the shapes in a way that was both accurate and not so arduous for me. It's also relatively cheap and compact, so it's easy to carry around.

George Bridgman was someone I referenced from in my early days of college when I basically had to completely relearn anatomy. There's a free PDF online to look at his works (I used to just copy his drawings to understand why he draws the way he does), and if you're looking for a physical book, I use this one. (It is, however, a bit expensive.)

Proko is another great Youtuber who breaks down anatomy in a simplified way. Trickywagon has some incredible sketchbook tours and QnA sessions where she explains her growth as an artist. SinixDesigns is a must for anatomy and painting.

Finally, a gesture drawing breakdown, a free, clothed gesture drawing class, and Line-of-action, a website that gives you poses to draw to apply your anatomy knowledge to.

When drawing, a lot of artists will say the same old, "Practice!" to encourage younger artists. This never helped me. What did help me was learning that I need to practice intentionally. I need to practice anatomy. I need to practice color theory. Line weight. Build my visual library. Draw what you think you're not very good at. Study how professionals do it, and try to replicate it. You'll find your own style during this time.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-04-01

Boopin' Monday

Listening: Sometimes you go a while without listening to a performer well understood to be solidly good and you forget that they're solidly good and then you listen to them and you're like yeah this is good. Daft Punk's Human After All album.

A positively wet album.

Reading: Finished Glory In The Thunder, by 0xabad1dea. A very strange book to read, like, it's a peculiar mix of extremely by the book fantasy and the peculiar "teen queer perfusion" style that 0xabad1dea was aiming for. A lot of plotlines but very well plotted, they weave in and out very neatly and intersect at the right times. It's a satisfying book to read but also I get the feeling that 0xabad1dea is having more fun writing it than I could ever have reading it.

If nothing else I should understand more of her posts now, since many of them are notebook sketches of these characters. I'll get to the sequel another time but I'm busy digging through my book list for what to read next.

Watching: Not much! A lot of short web stuff most notably the new Antimemetics Division short film, which has part 2 coming out in a couple days! Exciting stuff.

Playing: Forza Horizon 5, the Audi Quattro Rally S1 is up as a reward this month and I was like hey I want one of those, although I ended up scoring one through the rally DLC quests. I did wrap up the rally DLC storylines though so I'm caught back up with all the big quests, still haven't finished a ton of the ones that came out since I kind of stopped playing it as much as I used to because I was wasting a lot of my time in that game. It's too easy to get sucked into just cruising between races idly for hours.

Making: Started poking at LÖVR in detail, started writing a boids simulation but I fell down the rabbit hole of locomotion methods in VR, dealing with the dual coordinate spaces of the headset position in space and the virtual space positioning transforms is a little daunting, I expect I'll have to write some helpers to simplify it. Slowly relearning how Lua works.

Also sat and sanded the NAS case, I was planning on painting it this weekend but I was a little sick so that is on hold until probably Friday when the workshop opens again. Also need to go finish signing up for a library card so I can use the library system's shared workshop for smaller things, it looks cool.

Tools and Equipment: I have been responsible for rescuing a dying storage server at work, and I would like to pitch mdadm. If you're still using hardware RAID, stop that. It is a bad idea. You are setting yourself up for problems. CPU's are fast enough now that software RAID is perfectly performant and it makes sure that you don't end up in the situation where something silently goes wrong with your RAID card and you don't realize that your data has turned into giblets.

mdadm is actually really nice when you aren't dealing with inscrutable bugs that I see because I'm in the bugfixing division. Very simple to manage, good documentation, comprehensible metaphors, handles itself when possible, and has several sets of instructions that are basically guaranteed not to break anything that was no already broken, which is handy if you are dealing with an already fragile system.

[closetsof-backlogged-dreams]

what are ur feelings on the execution of the magic reveal??

ok so i have manymanyMANY feelings on in which ill try to wrap up as cleanly as possible so lets just get into it

the way they like speedran the magic reveal??

to paint you a picture: i was super impatient when i first started the series lmao, and so i had watched maybe 4-5 episodes of the first season when i googled "when does arthur find out about merlin's magic"💀💀 i ended up getting the wrong answer because im stupid as shit so i was just surprised as everyone else when it ACTUALLY happened, but thats besides the point.

the point? this was a SUPER important plot point. everyone was waiting on the edge of their seat, every single episode, for merlin to finally pop arthur's bubble and reveal his magic. but five seasons passed, and we didn't get it until the last episode?? are you kidding me?? and because we only got it on the last episode, where arthur was dying, arthur was robbed of any true explanations or declarations or apologies like he—we—deserved. instead, arthur's reaction to it was brief and just not enough. he was disbelieving, then shocked, then angry, then sad, then accepting, all within what, like a day and a half? forty minutes of screen time? im sorry, after spending around 46 hours watching this series and waiting for the magic reveal, that just doesn't cut it.

2. we have to admit, the magic reveal in the last episode felt so NATURAL

sometimes i really struggle to hate the magic reveal, because no one can deny how perfectly everything fell into place. he got trapped in the cave, his father spoke to him, he escaped the cave and transformed himself into that old guy, he single-handedly wiped out the Saxons, arthur was struck, merlin found him and carried him away from the battlefield, merlin turns back into merlin, and then the fucking "I defeated the Saxons. The dragon, and yet— and yet I knew it was Mordred that I must stop." / "The person who defeated them was the sorcerer." / "It was me." / "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. This is stupid. Wh—why would you say that?" / "I'm—I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you." (Your welcome for that, day after Christmas<3)

like, you CANNOT TELL ME that doesn't flow perfectly!! that everything that happened in that episode didn't flow perfectly!! the magic reveal was always going to be impossibly difficult to get right, but they got it right in the finale!! that is one thing i will always give the writers—I may have not liked the circumstances of the magic reveal, but the magic reveal itself was beautifully executed.

3. too little, too late

i read an article recently that really pointed this out, and while i disagree with most of what they said in the article, i agree with one thing: the ending was so, so unsatisfying. the magic reveal was so, so unsatisfying. what was the point of him even revealing his magic? the magic reveal was great, sure, but nothing actually came out of it. oh, for the next 24-48 hours of life, arthur can accept him!! but that's it.

there's the implication that gwen will legalize magic after the series, but merlin and gwen don't even get a final scene together! all in all, the magic reveal just wasn't enough. we ended so much more time for arthur to sort out his feelings, for there to be good days and bad days, to watch them relearn trust and love again. we deserved that kind of ending. we deserved the magic reveal to be in, imo, The Death Song of Uther Pendragon, or s5e3. give them an entire season to get through everything. you can still kill arthur!! but let them have that animosity. if anything, have them start out those last two battles on bad terms. let the travel to the lake be them relearning trust and love. let that be the emotional baggage they have to unpack in the finale.

just overall, do anything except what you actually did lmao.

alright!! i think those are the main three points? i think that wrapped everything up pretty nicely, so ty sm for the ask!! these are always the highlight of my month lol.

[nyxknocks]

This movie was hyped up so much to be so miserable and I was left irritated and... not amused, per se, but feeling like this film was a joke.

I get the message it was going for, mostly. The youth of Japan in the 60s were dealing with harsh realities--men were constantly preying on young women and abusing them. There is sex and violence everywhere and that's shown no better than the fact they get into this pseudo-Bonnie and Clyde bullshit but like, the shitty version of it. The youth are rebelling and the older generation were either disinterested in curbing it (the father who has a "well what can ya do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" mentality) or taking advantage of it (literally every other man in this film).

The two leads (who's names I can't be bothered to relearn) are the rebellious youth--but the girl is still a victim. She is a victim all throughout. What you don't get, however, is how she gets to this situation. The movie starts with her getting in the car with a strange man and it seems like she does it all the time. I'm sad she died because again, victim, but they made her death into a joke. Or at least it felt like a joke. Something something you could say that the focus on her high heels is equal to her effort to appear as an older sexual object and that leads to her literal death but I don't know.

The main dude just sucks. I don't know how I was expected to be so sad when he died when he was a garbage human throughout? Except for the situation where he was sleeping with an older woman, and I suppose you could argue he has been groomed and abused since he was young, but there is virtually no proof of this. You could argue he is just perpetuating a cycle of abuse against younger people, but you could also lean towards the direction that he's just in a sexual relationship with this older woman because she has means and he has nothing. It's a relationship of mutualism.

I hated the camera work. I get that it was wanting to put you inside the story and gives it a more voyeuristic feeling to go along with the inherent voyeurism of the entire film, but it was so shaky that it just made me nauseous and give me a headache. The acting was awful all throughout. The apple scene was wild and unnecessary. They made excellent work using the very vibrant red for the main girl as red is often linked to sex and sexuality, so having her be SO vibrant with it (in her clothes, her hair, the red phone, etc) immediately paints her as no more than a sex object--which just gets reiterated throughout the film. The times when you're supposed to realize she's a young girl being taken advantage of is when she's either in her white underclothes (typically associated with modesty and purity) or when she's literally on the literal, actual ground in real dirt beneath him, because all of the women are beneath the men in this film. They are either always looming or just. Above.

It was interesting how they shot the scene right after the abortion with the main dude and the voice over. Keeping the doctor and I think the sister's voices off-screen made it seem like that whole scene took place in his head--like he was having some sort of episode or realization moment. It was probably the most unnerving part of this movie for me. But again, the apple was wild. Even when she was recovering from a BACK ALLEY ABORTION he was still rubbing up all over her face. I don't blame he ever truly loved her, she was just an easy sexual outlet for him.

Like I said, I see why you say this film is bleak. It's dark, that's for sure, and it touches on extremely sensitive topics. It does a really good job depicting how common it is during that time (and now) for men to view women (especially young women) as nothing but punching bags or sex objects to toss and abuse as they please. But the fact this film is labeled as "romance" disgusts me. Main dude is an abusive piece of shit. Where is the romance...

I don't know. I'm used to watching some pretty messed up things so my expectations are probably different. I feel bad the main girl died. I could literally not care any less about the main dude. Honestly, he deserved to become roadkill. Alas.

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

I am creating a world where there have been interracial marriages since like they met and it's been thousands of years since. It's a very interconnected world now with basically no racial purity (is there a better way to say that? because that seems rooted in racist vocabulary and my world is the opposite). The only people who do not mingle are those akin to the uncontacted tribes in real life. Mainly, I'm trying to figure out how to figure out what people look like - there's only so few people out that are very mixed race, there's too many that are mixed but only specific mixes like White/Black, White/Asian, White/Hispanic. No..now, this isn't taking place on Earth but they are still human and I'm only able to come at it with how real actual people look like. No, bascially all of my world will be people who look White/Black/indigenous American/indigenous Pacific Islander/indigenous Asian/East Asian/South Asian/Hispanic/etc... Everything gets mingled, churned up in the gene pool and spit out. I'm not sure how to go from there. There are so so few actual examples that are very mixed. Also, I'm not at all an expert at looking at faces so yeah.. a lot of times I'm not even sure what I'm looking at in a racial trait. Hell, there are real life instances of let's say, looking at a Chinese and Japanese side by side, someone can tell them apart and where the differences. I still have no idea what they're looking at. Hell even someone actually Chinese couldn't tell what the differences were. Of course, I don't need to get very specific in details at all, but I have to have some sort of description that isn't well a lazy description that says nothing.

Feral: So, this ask gives me the idea that you were raised in a pretty racist culture (I can relate) and are trying really hard to leave that behind. And I want to encourage you to push into real education. Intention is not enough when it comes to shedding what we were taught, often subliminally, and consciously relearning - and that doesn’t feel good the way the color-blind approach many nascent liberals tend towards does.

It seems like you’re still caught in certain patterns of thinking, especially in the idea that eliminating racial distinction and sublimating and homogenizing is anti-racist when it’s actually kinda colonialism in a fancy new hat. And the “races” in your ask - a mixture of racial identities, ethnic identities, and very broad geopolitical groups - already have a huge genetic diversity within them and in several cases do in fact already overlap with each other.

There’s also a misunderstanding of how physical traits are genetically passed. They aren’t amalgamated like mixing blue paint and red paint and creating purple paint. Skin color, hair color, hair texture, and face and facial feature shapes and sizes don’t just meet in the middle between what the two parents have - and keep in mind that this kind of thinking is usually only applied when thinking about the children of a racially-mixed couple and not of say a white parent of Italian descent and a white parent of Scandinavian descent. 

 And there are traits that can seem to disappear from a family line only to pop up generations later. A more diverse gene pool will not produce a population of individuals indistinguishable from one another; there will be even more diversity of physical traits - specifically traits that we’re not accustomed to seeing together in our more racially segregated world.

Utuabzu: Something you should seriously consider is the background of your world. Is this the planet humans (or equivalent species, but let's just assume you're asking about humans) evolved on or is it a colony? Because if it's the former then it's pretty unlikely that you could homogenise the entire global population without some sort of catastrophic bottleneck event, something that reduces the global population to a small number in a single location that then recolonises the planet. Because the reality is that most people don't want to leave their communities of birth, not permanently anyway. People like to live in the place they consider home, and to live in a culture they understand, and absent a significant push or pull factor they will want to stay roughly within their home environment. This is part of why you don't generally see mass migration between countries with equivalent levels of economic development and political/social stability.

Given that, it's pretty hard to see how you could get enough migration around the world for long enough to homogenise the gene pool. There's probably always going to be general regional trends. There's also what Feral said about how genetics works. Appearance isn't just controlled by one or two genes. It's controlled by a huge array of genes that we still don't entirely understand, and many genes impact multiple seemingly unconnected things. A good example of this is that the gene for red hair also produces pale skin, because it prevents the production of eumelanin (the black pigment) while allowing the production of pheomelanin (the orangy-brown one). This is also why red haired people freckle - freckles are made with pheomelanin - and don't tan - tanning uses eumelanin.

Now, if you aren't writing about the home planet, you could have a fairly homogenous population due to something called the founder effect. Basically, because when a new population is established the genepool is limited, the traits of the founding individuals can have an outsized impact on the later genepool, with normally recessive genes spreading to enough individuals that the trait they code for becomes extremely common. So long as the population is predominantly composed of descendants of these founders, this effect is likely to remain active - so, so long as there isn't mass immigration that outnumbers the people born in the colony to at least one parent descended from the founders. This is easily enough accomplished by having the colony be really far away, and thus having an unreasonably long travel time for most people. If it takes many years to get there, few people would be willing to abandon their whole lives to migrate to a place they've never been.

A final thing to consider is that race is not and has never been a genetic or biological category. It's a social one. It can be correlated with certain physical traits, but it doesn't necessarily need to be, and in many parts of the world the salient 'racial' categories share most phenotypic traits. In others 'race' isn't particularly correlated with phenotype at all, and is instead primarily about culture or even religion. And not every society even has a concept of 'race'. You can simply not mention it, and instead have characters with a range of phenotypic features that nobody ever comments on, and it can be assumed that 'race' is not a relevant concept in that culture.

[rosemirmir]

15, 18, 26!

How long does an average piece take you to complete?

It depends on how finished I want it. For something fully rendered I would estimate around 8 hours.

What are you currently trying to improve on?

Allowing myself to just draw, to draw without worrying as much about things potentially sucking. I'm having to relearn this again after being unable to draw for a while.

For digital artists: what program(s) do you use?

I use Clip Studio Paint! But I also like to crack open and draw in Paint Tool Sai still from time to time. Whenever I doodle on my iPad I use procreate.

(Ask Game)

[herearedragons]

🎨 💧❤️‍🔥 for May Cadash or any other OC you'd like to answer with?

(setting her answers post-Trespasser)

🎨 ARTIST PALETTE — what are some hobbies that you like to partake in? do you think they're just to pass time or to distract yourself, or do you believe some of them potentially have therapeutic outcomes for you?

"...I like reading.

Didn't really read a lot until I picked up a copy of the Chant. It took me a while to find the patience for it, too, but after that, reading other books was way easier.

I like helping Thom in the workshop. He does most of the building and carving, but I'll sometimes try my hand at the finer details. And I'll paint the things he makes, too. Building more patience.

I'm glad I got to keep my good hand. Relearning the carving and painting with my left would have been a nightmare. I would have done it, but I'm glad that I don't have to."

💧 DROPLET — are you grieving something or someone? do you feel like you lost something or a part of yourself with it/them?

"I'm grieving a lot of things. Things and places I can't get back. People. A lot of people that are still alive.

I think I've learned to look at it the other way around, though. Losing something, or someone, doesn't take a part of you away; it adds a new one."

❤️‍🔥 HEART ON FIRE — what angers you the most? what triggers this anger, and how do you cope with it? what does this anger feel like, if you had to describe it?

"Helplessness taken advantage of. Makes my blood boil.

I try to stop it, if I can. Try to punish it if I can't. But, sometimes, I still have to stand and watch, and hate myself.

I've been the child torturing a dog. I've been the dog. I've been the other child, watching it happen, unable to make it stop.

I hate this third role the most."