#it helps also that like. mai is a character i project onto a bit

[toonbly]

so fun fact abt the new ferrymen pages i put them off for like 2 weeks when i was drawing them bc they gave me SUCH bad secondhand embarrassment. not because i dont think the joke is funny or bc i think theyre badly written, frankly i think theyre fucking Hilarious and were really fun to draw, it was ENTIRELY the Mortifying Ordeal Of Not Knowing If The Joke Is Gonna Land. which is honestly the funniest problem you can run into as a comic artist HFKJDHFKJSHF

[phlurrii]

It’s finally time to introduce the secondary project I’ve been working on >;Dc

I’ve had this queued for sometime in June, did not check when, so hello on [random date in june] ;D

I’m also here to explain how I’ll be posting this stuff going forward! Everything will be posted here, on my main account before being reblogged over to Soul’s Anchor a side bog with the place holder title. Unless it deals with more adult/suggestive content or heavier topics, of which will be exclusively posted to Soul’s Anchor side blog. As I don’t want certain themes alongside AM! I’ll also be referring to this series as Anchor for short! I will encourage any and all Questions, Mentions, and Thoughts to be directed there for those interested and those who are not, dw! You’ll only see the initial posts here, no asks or follows up, but this is still my art account and I shall enjoy it as I please ;3

Brief Synopsis about the Story:

A queer love story following a cursed pirate and a cult refugee implanted with a god’s eye as they combat the reality of living in a world which was created solely to feed the gods that govern it. All whilst a sapphic couple attempt to help guide the pair along a path to to a better future, one that’s validity comes into question. A dark fantasy story that aims to represent the disabled community, the LGBTQIA+, and SA survivors written by fellow members of these communities.

Also brief disclaimer, I, Phlurrii, am simply an ally to the disabled community, my partner in crime writing alongside me, ArtJunco on Instagram, is our resident community member ;]

Anyways onto the meat of this!

Below is a collection of some, emphasis on some, of the concept art and processes I went through to develop and create one of the two main characters, Lumae.

Here are some of the earliest ideas, the basic thoughts I had in my brain when developing this goober after a 3 hours pacing in my kitchen at 1 am when that inspiration struck. His hair was the HARDEST bit for me to figure out. Which sucked as usually the hair is one of the first things I figure out because of how much I love it, so it was Agony while brainstorming that part.

I also briefly considered a goatee, however it was so cruelly shot down by my dear friend. So in stead we compromised that he may get one later down the line story wise… and see how we feel then. However, upon finally figuring out his hair I was bloody elated, still has some tweaks now and then, but the base is there.

As for this next concept, this was actually the FIRST thing created for Lumae and what started everything else about his character/design! His eyes! They are still my favourite but about him and something I adore whole heartedly! They are the core of his character ;3c

These next few are early refs and mock ups of his full design, testing our colours, experimenting with shading, getting used to drawing humans again, and general concepts I had for him as a character! Also a sneak peak at Ayric, our second main goober for this story! Who was lovingly designed and created by ArtJunco!

And finally his most recent WIP ref! The only thing currently bothering me about his design is the colour for his boot covers, I have no idea what to do with them so I’d you have suggestion or ideas, sincerely, feel free to shoot an ask to the Anchor blog! I’d genuinely love outside opinions!

As for the main curiosity of why I’m doing this, for those that missed the last post, I’ll give a brief explanation below ;3

To help with burnout so I can hop between fixations, help to avoid losing interest in AM in the future!

Keep up practicing humans and critters alike.

To take a break from story telling to do story building! Give the telling part of my brain a break, while still making cool stuff ;]

To have a more interactive blog with ya’ll! One where I’ll likely be asking advice and discussing a lot more hypotheticals, doodling asks, and general audience interaction given I am not bound by any updates! Purely just “ooo… shiny-“ and anyone is welcome to join me ;D

Last thing I request is to please read Anchor’s blog bio/description before you follow, as this story will deal with subjects not suited for all audiences posted/discussed exclusively on that blog.

Anywho, that’s all for now folks, hope you enjoyed this brief intermission to kickoff the second project being public!

[ganondoodle]

it may not look like it but this took a long time to make

heres a rough ability breakdown for the totk rewrite project (i know its hard to read in the pic so let me clear it up and add some extra info)

theres two ability wheels now, sages are not frame rate killing glitch ghosts around you but their abilities are selected through the wheel on the right (pic is rough concept, it is clearer what is selected and what isnt + it has names in final version, symbols are placeholders as well) and bound to the player, when you acitvate it an aura appears similar to the arm abilities and their ghostly form appears besides you, charging or firing when you hit A while the ability is active

SHIEKAH ARM WHEEL

ANALYZE: zelda tells you info about targeted enemy/NPC, it gives you info about it and informs you more dynamically about important things than the foto-entries do

FOTO its fotos :) zelda joins selfies tho and does silly poses with you

REWIND: functions like the time recall in canon, but this time it is a more developed version of stasis instead

AMIIBO: its ... amiibo

HOOKSHOT: grab onto anything (perhaps restricted but not yet decided), you pull yourself+zelda to heavy stuff, light weight objects are pulled to you (including light enemies like bats or small slimes) grab onto something and hold onto it, usable like a vine (think, ww grappling hook) but with limited duration (battery power?)

AUTOBUILD: like in canon but it uses luminous stones if material isnt all there (or other material you put out to so its more versatile and you are more aware of what you have, no accidental spending then)

BUILD: similar to canon, but no glue (it kinda just fuses with no extra graphic unless pehaps like a bolt or sth), you put stuff together anyway you want; build is also used for weapons (no extra ability needed), you just build a weapon on the ground and pick it up afterwards (it has to be a weapon handle part and then sth else to it, otherwise it wont turn into a weapon)

INFUSE: infuse somethign with ancient energy, useless on normal objects usually(?) but reactivates broken or deactivated tech like elevators and doors; used to dynamically access caves and especially labs (labs serve a similar function as shrines, they are old shiekah labs that broke over time, puzzles are diverse things like traversal and little quests in which you help the researcher ghosts of the people that died in these labs (by the calamity, earthquakes, accidents, or killed by the royal army when their tech was banned and they refused to give it up)

SAGE WHEEL:

WIND GUST: same as in canon

LIGHT SHIELD/LIGHT LASER: zelda uses a shield of light to protect herself in combat, it does not affect the player (or perhaps only when you happen to be within range, which is small, this is more a character thing for her than useful for you) for the player through the selection wheel; aim and tell her to shoot a light laser like rauru did in the moldora cutscene in canon totk (a bit more dynamic) it deals very high damage to anything hit but has the highest cooldown of all abilities; deals extra damage to miasma enemies

THUNDERSTRIKE: similar as in canon, it charges through you however (so the charging only gets stopped if YOU shoot an arrow or get hit)

FIRE .. BOOM THING: similar as in canon but yuno has a little animation of daruks shield around him again :)

YIGA TELEPORT/KOGA CLONES (undecided yet): A: target a location in range and koga grabs you like a naughty kitten and teleports you both to the targetted location, you spawn in a little above ground giving you time to either perform a bullet time move or a sword attack from above B: summons a bunch of koga clones that serve as a distraction for enemies and combat support, they die in one hit (reference to kogas and monk moz kyoshias similar moveset; since there are no sage ghosts around you all the time and a max of two companions (zelda always, sage in sage dungeon) it serves as a replacment for that)

WATER ...WELL(?): sidon gives you a shield of water, elemental effect is applied to weapon and lasts as long as the shield does no matter how many times you attack; if it is hit by an enemy it breaks but you dont take damage; if the shield lasts it entire duration without getting hit it it grants you a percentage of your missing health back upon dissolving (ref to mipha healing powers anyone??)

im open to constructive feedback but overall im quite happy of makign it work out like that, although there are quite a few things that need polish i think this is both realistic and works well with what else i have been writing; remember tho, this is my rewrite so im undoing the things i dont like, like riju never being there when you need her bc she runs right up to the enemy and her losing her charge bc she keeps getting knocked over + overall uselessness of minerus robot (to me)

(totk rewritten project)

[salt216000]

I saw a post today that made me quite upset. Normally I'd just ignore, but I read some of the tags and they upset me quite a bit too.

Username is cropped out because I don't want to make it seem like I'm putting 'em on blast, I just want to give my opinion on this.

Transfem headcanons of Gabriel are absolutely fine. Awesome, even. But not while putting down transmasc headcanons at the same time.

The post makes a really interesting and good point! Transfem Gabriel does work well with his narrative of growth and discovery of his own identity, especially as someone cast out of Heaven for not achieving the ridiculous standards they set. That is a really good notion that, yes, being entirely honest, I don't see as frequently from that angle.

But you do NOT have to say it is a 'failure of the fandom' and pin the blame on more people headcanoning him as transmasc. If you want transfem Gabriel content then you can make it: art, writing, musings, anything, but you don't have to put down other creators for projecting their own ideas and potentially their own experiences onto a character they like and relate to.

I'm going to preface this next part with: I am NOT disparaging against transfem Gabriel headcanons, or giving reasons as to why they shouldn't exist. All I am doing here is clarifying why people tend to headcanon him as transmasc. Francis Xie was hired by Hakita to draw concept art, and he is known for drawing a lot of artwork of Gabriel (some NSFW in nature, as a warning in case you decide to look for yourself), and in said artwork he depicts his headcanon of Gabriel being transmasc. Of course, this is not gospel, it is not officially canon and even if it was people are allowed to headcanon him as whatever they want, I only bring this up to help explain why the headcanon may be so popular.

More personally, I find it really gender affirming to have a character in the ballpark of masculine in frame and voice, but to see him wear more feminine clothing in official artwork without it being degrading. It's very nice to see a depiction of this to help push back against the reinforcement that masculine presenting people must conform to certain standards, and that's why I personally enjoy the headcanon too.

There are also a decent few characters that DO get more transfem rep: Mirage, the mindflayers, mannequins, V2, so I don't understand why it's a problem that it is the minority with Gabriel. I wasn't originally going to post this publically, but these tags pushed me to do so:

Username once again cropped out for the same reason as above. To be clear, these are NOT OP's tags.

I don't care what the original tone OP meant was, if it was joking or playful or whatever else, because the sentiment that that post gathered is absolutely wretched. I don't have much else to say about it without getting deeper into gender stuff that I don't want to extend this post with, but I'll reiterate my main point.

You can be upset that there aren't headcanons that represent a certain idea you prefer, but DO NOT put down others who have contrasting ideas in the same breath. If you want to make a post about Gabriel being transfem being a great narrative, go for it, no one will stop you, but do not fucking wrap in a 'transmasc headcanons are wrong and don't get it, and my headcanon is more correct', and at those tags in particular, do NOT treat transmasc headcanons like this, 'transmasc pandemic' is such an awful way to put it and makes me feel as though a line in the sand is being further drawn between transmascs and others who are not.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven ven venny ven, do you have any favourite ships in the twst cast? If so, why?

I don’t have any ships among the TWST cast that I’m crazy about! That doesn’t mean I “hate” all the combinations, it’s just that I feel neutral about most of them. I would say I’m pretty open to considering rare pairs and all kinds of tropes (enemies to lovers, childhood friends, etc.), but I’ve yet to find one in TWST that solidly lands with me.

Certainly there are dynamics I enjoy—the Science Club boys, for example—but do I see them being romantically engaged with one another? Eeeeeh, debatable. I could really go either way.

It’s actually easy to (temporarily) influence my takes on certain ships 😂 Sometimes I’ll listen to my friends talk ad nauseam about a ship they’re super into and their excitement is so infectious that it rubs off on me. I’ll go, “Wow, that really is a cute interaction! I can see why you ship them.” This had happened before with Malleus x Cater a few years back, though now I’ve returned to a neutral state on it since the shipper friend hasn’t been as active talking about the two. I appreciate my friends for popping off because even if I don’t have the same passion as they do for the ship, it helps me see the characters and their interactions under a new lens or from a different angle. (I actually wrote a fic where Cater takes Malleus to a maid cafe, inspired by my friend’s speeches about the duo. It’s meant to be platonic, but I think it could also be read as romantic if you choose to view it that way.)

I get easily influenced by fan art too, even if I don’t know the creator on a personal level. A few weeks back, I saw this Jade x Jamil post and it was so wholesome and tooth rottingly sweet (even though it was a ship I did not gave the time of day to before) 😭 And then I started to think about their similarities (both vice dorm leaders, both passive aggressive, both manipulators, etc.) and gradually convinced myself “Hey, it could work!” Now that I’ve had some time to be weaned off of the fan art though, I’m back to that baseline feeling of neutrality. It’s the exposure therapy wearing off/j

On the topic of Yuu (they’re technically a part of the TWST cast), I’m particularly lukewarm about any ships involving them—and Yuu ships are the only exception to my “I’m easily influenced to change my mind” rule; I’m always neutral about Yuu ships. They’re a blank slate, so the dynamics they have with other characters changes drastically depending on what “kind” of Yuu they are. I don’t have a Yuusona of my own, nor do I project onto Yuu, so I find little value in their character (or lack thereof). This extends to ships too; because I don’t see (my) Yuu as a “real” character, I also don’t see the potential in shipping them with those in the cast. I’ll support everyone’s right to their own Yuu and related ships, but I don’t necessarily get gung-ho about them unless I know the creators well. This is because the familiarity I have with them then extends to their Yuus; I can see bits of them and their own personalities and experiences in their Yuus, and that makes me feel like I have a more meaningful bond with whatever their interpretation (and romantic involvement!) is.

Of course, there are also some ships that I don’t like or that personally make me uncomfortable (for example, incest ships) 💦 I don’t want to like… yuck your yums, so I won’t go into explicit detail about which other ships I’m not a fan of or would prefer as platonic. Regardless of how I may feel about those, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m going to judge you for what you do or don’t ship. You do you—just be sure to respect boundaries and don’t push what you ship onto others, especially if they have indicated they’re not into the same things you are.

Just to make things clear, please do NOT send me asks like “Here is my ship and here is why you should consider it!” and “How do you feel about [Character A] x [Character B]?” or any variant (which includes polycules, love triangles, etc.). I will also not be responding to asks pressing me for which ships I dislike. I won’t be providing a tier list either since there are way too many possible combinations to account for. Shipping talk with strangers/the public makes me anxious and I’d rather not have that level of stress on a consistent basis.

Thank you for understanding ^^

[project-sekai-facts]

i recall some kind of theory or pointing out of the fact that tsukasa's focus sets have had him getting less and less authority each time, and with the role of a minor character, it seems to have been intentional

oh i remember a lot of players on JP and KR side pointing that out when Phoenix released! and yeah I think it's definitely true

he went from king -> commoner -> jester/circus performer (for the king) -> a shadow

actually i have a lot of thoughts about his new card and i doubt this set will get an official blog post so i might just ramble a bit. (ftr: haven't read the event yet, sekai.best isn't updating and i surprisingly haven't really found anything from looking through JP/KR side either). specifically, i have a few thoughts about tsukasa being a shadow in this card because it's actually way more than that. oh to be a media student

first off the costume name: phantasmagoria. according to wikipedia, this was an old form of horror theatre that involved projecting scary images. (it's quite interesting actually you can read the article here). the effects in phantasmagoria productions would be done using magic lanterns, the ones you slide a disc with a picture into so it projects it onto a wall. usually, they'd use rear projection, where the lantern is placed behind the surface it's being projected on (so the surface would usually be smoke or some sort of semi-transparent screen) to keep up the illusion (rear projection is how old movies did backgrounds for reference).

now here's where the light in the card comes into play. for starters, rear projection clearly isn't being used here because he's on the stage-thingy (that will be relevant later). also instead of the light shining at him as if he were the subject being projected, it's shining down on him. while partially this was definitely done in part for composition cool points (the composition on this card is so fucking good actually it has nothing to do with symbolism but like holy shit), it's very reminiscent of a spotlight. as i said, i haven't had the chance to read the event yet but i'm assuming this will connect with him having to play a minor role (or play the shadow as the gacha says) and still putting himself in the spotlight.

i like that idea actually because if you link the fact he's standing in the spotlight that means he is still casting a shadow. it may appear to the viewer as if he's the centre of attention - he's right in the light, literally hitting all the composition marks to make him the sole focus of the card - but he's still just a shadow in a larger phantasmagoria. and actually, the spotlight sort of goes around him, he's pretty much cast in darkness despite being in the light and i love how that reflects him being part of a smaller role or "shadow". he stands in the spotlight and puts on a great show no matter if he's truly the star.

lastly: the pose. now look at this 4koma where he does a bird pose:

familiar? while in this 4koma he's meant to be imitating an eagle, i can't help but notice some striking similarities in how he's posed.

also the gacha has a feather! specifically a black one. unfortunately since there are no actual birds on the cards, nor are there feathers, I can't tell you exactly what bird he is meant to be..,

although if you wanted to really grasp at straws then his last event was called Towards the Phoenix at the Sky's Edge the play from that event was called Happy Phoenix and both the play and the lead role in it are incredibly significant to Tsukasa personally and he ended up cast as the lead role in that play and even though the lead role isn't the phoenix that bird is still significant to him in some way.

also going all the way back to the original point of his class decreasing with every set i think while yes in this set he has been reduced to nothing more than a prop, or even less so a mere shadow, but at the same time if you chose to go with that incredibly reachy phoenix idea, it's a comeback. the phoenix rises from the ashes, tsukasa can be reduced to nothing and still be the star owning the spotlight, the most powerful one in the room. hell, he's still on a stage despite everything. i think it's super neat actually that despite this being him at the lowest rank, he's actually in the place where he belongs.

i believe i've only briefly mentioned it in passing on this account before, but theatre is his life. above all else Tsukasa is an actor and the stage is where he thrives. i think it's so interesting how with each set he loses authority, but he also gets closer to being on the stage. the king is at (well, near) his castle where he leads (link to WMS), Torpe is at his piano where he performs (link to Dazzling Light), the Jester is at the circus where he performs, and then you get the one that's hardest to define as any set character. it's not a king or a pianist or jester, it's just some performer on a stage. this time there's no character, and it's not just "some performer" because this is tsukasa. it's still another role, but this time the role is, as the event synopsis states, more "real". this is tsukasa where he belongs, he never needed any sort of power or to play the role of another performer in order to shine because he himself is a performer at his core. Torpe is a performer, but Torpe is not Tsukasa. Tsukasa is Tsukasa, and Tsukasa is a performer. Something like that.

sekai.best please update

[weepingwillowwonder]

#2 Hazbin Hotel "Things I ✨️LOVE✨️ the idea of" (because I can't share these things with people irl...)

[Explicit content: minors DNI!]

The Vees x Model!Reader

Imagine being one of Velvette's models and hearing her and Valentino are doing a collaboration on a new lingerie line. Who better to do the job than her favorite model? You may have expected to be a part of this photoshoot (being her favorite and all), but what you didn't expect was to be played with like a toy in front of everyone~

[I do NOT own Hasbin Hotel or it's characters, do NOT repost my content elsewhere please and thank you! Minors DNI!]

CW: Lingerie, exhibitionism, vibrating underwear, dirty talk,

You quickly get changed as you enter the studio and make your way in front of the cameras. Surprisingly the clothing item covers all your bits, though, it definitely accentuates your body in the best ways, not leaving much to the imagination. Velvette quickly directs you in position on the floor in front of the cameras. You're currently sitting on your knees with your palms resting on them, listening to Valentino and Velvette discuss the vision for the photoshoot. It's not surprising that Valentino is involved in the process, after all it is a collaborative project. However, you didn't expect him to be THIS involved. Velvette's instructions are usually short and to the point. "On the floor, on your knees," is how she'd spoken to you earlier. Is it that she's more predictable? Or maybe you're used just to the way she orders you around. It's almost as if she expect you to know exactly what she's thinking in that moment. Valentino, on the other hand, still expects you to know what to do, but is unpredictable in his motives. "Ooolala look at you, chica! You're going to make us so much moneyyy~" he had said, grinning when you came into the room. You nodded respectfully and shyly smiled back at him, "Hello, Mr. Valentino..." His grin seemed to widen as you addressed him, watching you as you quickly follow Velvette's instructions.

While you maneuvered flawlessly to their commands, the whole thing just seemed to be missing something. You waited patiently as the two huddled around the camera man, peering at the images displayed. Sure you looked good, hell, you looked HOT. But for the marketing headline of their newest product, the photos just seemed to be...lacking. You make eye contact with Valentino as he lights a cigarette, smirking at you. "Be a doll and lay on your stomach for me," Velvette suddenly says, crossing her arms. You obey and slide yourself onto the floor, laying completely flat with your head turned in their direction. "Actually," she starts, looking between you and the camera picture. "Get on all fours," she then comes over and pushes your upper half unto the ground. "Arch your back a liiittle more...Yes! Don't you dare move."

You can't help the warming of your cheeks or the slight throbbing between your legs when you think about how you probably look to everyone else in the room right now. You try your best to keep a straight face and not give way to your growing arousal. Focus on the camera. Focus...focus....You jump as the door suddenly swings open and unfortunately also at the same time the camera shutter goes off. Velvette again looks at the images from the camera, only this time they come out blurry. "Fuckin' hell!" Velvette yells angrily at the intruder, throwing her hands up in the air. "Vox this better be important enough to come in here and fuck up our shoot!" Valentino squints as he also checks out the images. Smacking his teeth he mumbles, "Te moviste.."

Vox waves off Velvette's outburst and motions to Valentino, handing him some documents to sign. Vox briefly glances up at you with an unreadable expression and you look away, too embarrassed by your current position. He looks back down at the papers as Valentino quickly fills them out, then he asks "How's the collab going anyway?" Velvette directs someone to quickly touch up your make up and mutters under her breath, something about a piss baby... Valentino gives the documents one last once over and hands them back to Vox, lighting another cigarette. "Let's see your opinion here..." He motions to the camera and allows Vox to leans in close to take a look at the images. Vox doesn't say anything for a moment, flipping through the suggestive pictures with a slight blush dusting on his screen. He clears his throat before answering, "yeah uh, I guess they're fine? I mean.." he pauses. "Thinking from a marketing stand point, the product looks good, and I mean really good...But it just seems like any other lingerie line." Vox looks in your direction yet again, also making the other two glance over at you in thought. Valentino then grins before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small remote. "Mm, I was thinking the same thing, so I brought a little help~ ," He purrs. "Make sure you don't miss ANYTHING." He snaps to the camera man before pressing a button on the remote.

One second you're quietly watching the interaction between The Vees, the next you feel a sudden vibrating sensation between your legs. You gasp embarrassingly loud and unconsciously arch your back, pushing your ass further into the air. You hear Velvette hum contently and Valentino praising your effort, "eso es todo baby~" You whimper and grip the carpet underneath your palms, trying your best to continue looking into the camera. Your legs automatically squeeze together, pressing the vibrations closer to your core. Once enough pictures were taken in this new position, Velvette tells you to lay on your back, which takes embarrassingly longer than usual to get into position. You bite your lip with tears in your eyes, as you settle on your back with your knees drew up. Your hips jump as the vibrations increase, making you cry out. Instinctively you reach your hand between your legs and grind against it as you pathetically whimper out a plea, "Please!" Valentino watches intently, cooing encouragement at you on the side, while Velvette keeps a close eye on the camera. Vox, just stands in the background admiring you intently as you start to fall apart. He also looks at the camera, mumbling softly, "Now that's good for marketing..."

At this point you're openly humping your hand, bringing yourself closer to the edge. You're trembling as your orgasm rapidly approaches, only the soft sounds of your noises can be heard. Making eye contact with Valentino is what finally pushes you over the edge as you see him gently squeeze the visible budge between his legs. Your back fully arches off the ground and you whimper as the orgasm rocks throughout your body. You lay there dazed for a moment as you hear Velvette yelling "Wrap it up!" in the background. Vox and Valentino quietly exchange words before Vox takes his leave back to his office. Valentino on the other hand approaches you, crouching down to your level. "Well done hermosa~ " He slyly glances over to Velvette who is directing the clean up crew.

"How would you like to come work for me instead?" He asks grinning and gently stoking the side of your face, "I could make you Star~"

---

( >_>) I wrote this instead of going to bed...it is now 4 hours past my bed time...ALSO! Guess who learned how to add the "keep reading" line thingy today???~

[swarvey]

Enamored with Paper Rings right now. It’s written so, so well 🥺 Do you have any headcanons about meeting Harvey in college/taking over the farm years after that?

meeting harvey in college | harvey x gn!reader

summary -> after meeting harvey during college, the two of you hit it off right away, slowly growing to become more than friends.

a/n: ahhh tysm!!!! that means a lot <33 i hope you enjoy!! reader and harvey are at med school btw

harvey

the two of you met during freshman year of university while taking the same course

after being placed in the same group project together for the semester, you hit it off with him right away

harvey, though? it was pretty much love at first sight.

you best believe this man purposefully chose his seat near you because he thought you were cute. not that he'll ever tell you that

it didn't help that he was completely enamored with your personality

(nearly imploded the first time you laughed at one of his jokes)

knew he wanted to be with you pretty much right away, but he also didn't want to rush you

so, being the man that he is, he waited patiently until you were ready to express your own feelings before showing you how much he cares about you.

freshman year

"this is impossible," you groan, letting your head fall onto the mattress beneath you. "i quit."

harvey laughs, rolling his chair over to the bed and gently lifting you up by your hoodie. "unfortunately, you can't quit," he tells you, smiling at your frown. "the rest of our groupmates quit half a semester ago, so it's up to us to save our grades."

you sigh deeply as you force yourself to sit up, grabbing your laptop and pulling it onto your lap. as you begin to work — swearing under your breath about your "good for nothing groupmates" — harvey sneaks a look at you once in a while, admiring the way you bite your lip in thought and squint your eyes at the screen.

he wants to be with you, of course he does. he thinks any guy who doesn't should get schedule a check-up with their doctor, since they obviously aren't thinking straight. no, the problem isn't that he doesn't have feelings for you — it's that you can't seem to tell he does. while he knows he should use his time at college to explore and meet new people, he can't shake the fact that, to be frank, you're really the only one he can picture himself with.

"harvey, can you look at this? i swear this doesn't make sense."

"sure!" shaking out of his daydream, harvey sits beside you on the bed, trying not to pay attention to the way your arms are pressed against each other.

while others may move on after realizing their feelings aren't returned, harvey figures he doesn't mind waiting a little bit, especially if the reward is having you all to himself.

sophomore year

"how do i look?"

harvey turns to look at you as you emerge from your bedroom, bashfully showing off your halloween costume with a broad grin. you're dressed up as one of your favorite video game characters, your hair and make-up done perfectly by your friend. she stands next to you with a proud look on her face, eyes digging into his skull. he can basically hear her daring him to say you look bad.

"amazing," he voices, watching as she nods in satisfaction and walks away.

"honestly, harvs, you couldn't have been a little more creative?" you ask, tugging at his lab coat. "you realize we're in med school, right? so half the people we see tonight are going to be wearing this."

he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. "well, i couldn't think of anything else," he mumbles. "it's not like i'm trying to impress anyone, anyway."

you hum, nonchalantly fixing his collar and centering his stethoscope. "well, at least you look all cleaned up — maybe you'll catch someone's eye," you tease.

yet again, you don't notice how he stiffens, letting out a quick breath when your hands graze his neck. it's been a year now, and harvey has no idea how you haven't noticed his feelings for you. still, he's been patient, and he truly doesn't mind waiting; it's not like there's a downside, in his mind. the two of you have grown even closer since freshman year, even finding time to see each other during the summer.

"alright, ready?" you ask, grabbing the sides of his arms and laughing when he jumps. "geez, harvey, i know it's halloween, but you don't have to be so on edge. i'm here to protect you!" you cross your arms, feigning toughness.

"really?" he doubts, giving you a questionable look.

you nod, the air leaving your lungs when your friend pokes your side. "we're all doomed if you're supposed to save us," she jokes. you laugh as she starts pulling you to the door, calling for harvey to follow.

he barely hears her, though, hearing only your bright laughter and seeing only your amused eyes.

i can wait.

junior year

harvey is growing tired of this.

he watches helplessly as you talk to a senior — a senior who is clearly attracted to you, by the way — and allow him to pour you another drink. he scowls at the greedy look in his gaze, his eyes raking you up and down as you sip out of your cup. he knows you're clueless and remembers how excited you were to socialize at the formal, especially since this upperclassman is known to be at the top of his class, but truthfully?

he doesn't give a damn.

"oh, harvey!" you say, eyes brightening when he walks over. he doesn't even look at you as he grabs your arm, locking it with his. he can feel you staring at him, his ears burning with embarrassment as he faces the senior.

"what are the two of you talking about?" he asks, his hold on you tightening when the older student leans forward slightly.

"nothing of concern," he says, eyeing your hand clutching harvey's arm. "just some personal techniques i've learned over the years."

harvey's lips form a grim line on his face as he glares at him, the music playing in the background seeming to fade away. he can sense the intentions of the other student, knowing if he weren't there, he would be purposefully getting you drunk to do god knows what with you.

"we're leaving," harvey declares, "but thanks for sharing your insight with them. i'll be sure to ask all about it when we get back."

without another word, harvey drags you out of the room despite your small protests, focusing only on getting you away from the creep. he lets out a breath of relief as you make it outside, resting his hands on his knees for a moment before straightening to look at you with worry-filled eyes.

"what were you thinking?" he scolds, scanning you quickly as if checking for injuries. "can't you tell when someone is trying to take advantage of you? how much have you had to drink? here, take my jacket, it's getting chilly out—"

his words get caught in his throat when you lean forward and hug him tightly, your head resting on his chest.

"what would i do without you, harvey?" you quietly ask, pulling away to look at him with a gaze he's never seen before. "no one's ever cared about me like you, you know that?"

harvey clears his throat, looking away as he gently wraps his arms around you. "i think you had a little too much to drink," he says, attempting to pull you off. "i'll take you home, okay? we can talk more tomorrow—"

before he can finish his sentence, your lips are covering his, your arms now thrown around his neck as his hands find the small of your back. after a moment of shock, he's kissing you back, eyes shut as he pulls you closer to him.

when you break off, he looks at you with wide eyes, blinking as he registers what just happened. his cheeks are tinted red.

you yawn, grabbing his arm once again and leaning on him. "i'm tired," you mutter. "let's go home."

"r-right, let's get you to bed. we can talk about this after you get some rest." wordlessly, he begins to walk you home, hoping with his entire being that you won't forget this by the morning.

senior year

adrenaline rushes through harvey's body as everyone throws their caps into the air, celebratory horns blaring in his ears as everyone begins to file out of the stadium. he can hardly believe it's been four years already — it feels like it was just yesterday he was meeting you in class for the first time, already drawn in by your curious eyes.

after greeting his parents and taking some pictures with them, he promises to be right back before racing off to find you, his bouquet of flowers still in hand. he quickly searches the crowd, knowing you should be around this area, but is stopped in his tracks when you practically pounce on him.

"we did it!" you exclaim excitedly, swaying him from side to side. your family watches amusedly as he shyly waves at them. "we actually graduated, can you believe it?"

"well, i can believe i graduated," he teases. "i'm not sure about you."

"hey! i used my resources well throughout college, alright?" you defend, pushing him away lightly.

"i'm kidding." he pulls you to his side, quickly stealing a peck on your lips when no one's watching.

you sigh, looking down at the cap in your hands. "i can't believe it's over," you express. "it went by so fast."

he nods in agreement, watching as everyone celebrates with their families. "keep in mind, i spent nearly three of those years chasing after you."

"you never said anything!"

"did i need to? i'm sure everyone else knew except for you."

"and whose fault is that?"

"alright, enough fighting!" harvey's mom laughs, walking up to your family and greeting them. "let's take a picture of you two."

"ready?" his dad calls, angling his camera. "smile!"

after developing the photo a week later, harvey notices that, while you're brightly grinning at the camera, he's too busy smiling down at you, reveling in the fact that all his waiting didn't go to waste.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 23]

I think after this it's kinda natural that Joris will never ever put his trust into anyone that isn't Kerubim or Atcham ever again.

I am once again asking why Kerubim has these books and what was he doing at devil's sacrament.

He's never beating those necromancy allegations.

There's a canonical name for the evil-ass looking huppermages.

Once again, this is Them in Dofus 2 when they reveal to Joris that they framed Julith or something. (source: my beautiful mind)

The Dessous comic implies that Marline bought this stuff from Kerubim which is so funny. It's beautiful how little of a shit the man gives for the safety of others.

I may not like Khan in his present form, as a macho gobbowler, but I like the idea of him. Joris, and his little "ghnhnn I have to do what's right, I have sacrifice my happinesss for other people" complex needs someone like that in his life who will buy him alcohol and help him run away from home when he's 14-16.

I'm sure if given another movie, or a show, Ankama's plan would have been to make Khan more likeable. He seems like a ride-or-die friend.

A scene ago he was in Julith's arms. So, she found it important to get him into the arms of this dofus-powered doll. Personally, I like to think that he started thrashing and maybe even bit her.

What did she lie about though? Liking him? Not wanting the Dofus? Being a competent person and not a fuck-up? (I love Bakara and say all of this with affection)

Once again, I empathize, that Julith was gloating about this to Bakara. That she doesn't really care about Joris (and by extension, Joris's feelings.)

She is killing a thousand people, who did nothing to her. These are civilians who came to watch a sports match. How many mothers are here with their sons and daughters who just wanted to look at their idols? If Joris never had Grougalorasalar's soul, if he and Kerubim never learned of her plan, THEY would have been among these viewers.

Julith is a very interesting character because she's ruthless, she has no morals, absolutely no understanding or compassion for others, — even Bakara or her own son, — and yet she is driven by love almost entirely. And that's her one redeeming quality.

But also — does it really change things, when you're driven by love to kill a thousand innocent people? To ruin your son's life? Because it doesn't really change much, to me...

I think there's a tragedy in that. She does love the idea of Joris. She loves what she sees of him, his voice, his face, and eyes. If she learned more about him, she'd probably love the parts he didn't show too. She'd love to see how he grew up.

She'd love how committed he is to those he loves. She'd love his ruthless march towards what he thinks is right that will allow him to close his eyes as he does unforgivable things. The only thing she would dislike is his loyalty to Bonta.

But the reverse will never be true. Joris can become a warmonger, a dictator, and a war criminal, but he would loathe to place his needs above those of others. He wouldn't do horrible things if he didn't think it was for the greater good of mankind.

As a 600yo man, Joris has lived through two apocalypses, — and yet people like Nox and Julith will lose 1-4 loved ones and go insane, killing people. I doubt he feels much for her, except for disgust.

Their friendship is so important to me. But also, somewhere out there, Tatak is crying.

I think one of the great tragedies of Joris's character is that he is doomed to break his own moral code, slowly but surely.

One must imagine Joris Jurgen living happily with the blood of innocents on his hands, because the alternative is more haunting.

One of her main issues is that she projects the actions of a few onto literally everyone in Bonta. Which is a very crazy fucking reach.

But I understand how she arrived at this reach to begin with: I don't think she was ever happy, before Jahash, and when she finally was happy, for once in her entire life, they took even that away from her.

You wanna know who else in this scene is going to have only 2 people who give meaning to his life? Jo—— [I am forcefully restrained by the police]

I just really like pointing out the similarities between Joris and Julith, — and the way these similarities underline their differences.

Once again: she doesn't give a shit about anyone's opinion. She is betting everything onto a nebulous future where Joris and Jahash and Bakara forgive and forget everything she did, and they live as a happy Fambly (in Brakmar, because that's a GOOD city and they will LOVE to move there, after being no longer welcome in Bonta due to the 1000 dead people.)

(Guy whose very emotional and Julith and Joris voice) guys I think she's starting to realize that their familial relationship is going to be unfixable.

Joris and everyone present here are quite aware that stopping this will kill one of them.

They are also very aware that one dead person is better than a thousand.

[dotster001]

hihi! just in here to say that i love your twisted earth au very much, its such an interesting concept and i love the way you write the characters?!!?!/ and to request some twisted earth hcs with rollo, chenya, and neige!

Twisted Earth Part Six

Summary: non NRCx gn!reader. You are the game. They are real.

A/N: full disclosure, I'm on the English server and have worked really hard to avoid masquerade spoilers. So Rollo's part is based on the snippets I've seen. After I play the event, if I think my assessment is off, I'll redo his part. Also, initially I was going to have Neige be a VA of your best friend, but an anon gave me an idea to have him as a villain. Special thanks to you boo!

Parts: One Two Three Four Five

He is a little like Floyd in that he's always searching for fun. Unlike Floyd, instead of crashing, he just continues to up the silliness stakes. His friends downloaded the game on his phone as an attempt to keep him out of trouble for a while.

And it worked! Kind of!  When he's not sneaking onto NRC campus, or going to his own classes, he's got his eyes trained on his phone. It's the first time a lot of his peers have ever seen him sit still.

He decided you would be the most fun to prank, and the most likely to enable his behavior. Whether this is true or not, if you were real, he'd be dragging you along for the ride. I wish you luck man. If you think you hear breathing or giggling behind you, but can't see anyone, trust your instincts. He wants to see you jump.

He didn't start playing until later so he only has one or two of your cards. He is incredibly jealous of his classmates who have the cards he wants, and may or may not make it very difficult for them to play during event periods so that they don't get any farther ahead of him.

He's been acting ever since he was a child. But he's never gotten a chance to let loose! With this project, it wouldn't be outright clear that Neige was in it at all, so he got to be an antagonistic millionaire's son  in the second book. And he had so much fun! Plus, now he's friends with all these voice actors, who really want to allow him the chance to let loose as the villain. He's so excited for his new opportunities!

He plays because it reminds him of working with his voice actor friends. Because the cast was so large though, he didn't have a chance to work with everyone.  You and your immediate friend group were not an arc he got to see come together. He thinks that's why he was drawn to you. You were a route that was completely new to him. The novelty, and just how precious of a character you seem to be, keeps his attention, no matter how long he plays.

If you were real, he would wrap you in a blankie and tell you all the ways he loved you until you loved yourself, and could never doubt in yourself. He really really really wants to kiss the tip of your nose. (He can't explain it. It's just an urge he has) 

He has all of your cards but one. It's just the bonus of playing since its release. He's missing an event card where you are dressed in a Halloween costume. He really wanted it too, but it's alright! He can just ask to see the script, that way he doesn't miss the story.

A world without magic? Magicless humans? He is wondering if the Devs got a little glimpse of heaven when they were making this game.

You. You are so perfect. You could be his pure human, who will help him fix this world. After he helped you see the light of course.

(I am so sorry. My image of him is kind of like a psycho)

He plays after a long hard day of being surrounded by flawed mages (himself included). It just eases his spirit a little bit. Not all is wrong with the world.

He doesn't really bother collecting cards. He has what he has and he's alright with it. He gets what he needs from you from the main story, and his late night shower thoughts.

Side note, he does not like other people's fan theories about you. Only his are correct, and he'll fight people on it until they get annoyed and give up.

[maid-of-the-golden-deer]

im sorry but "kill the villainess" (story by your april and art by haegi, included those because there wre Many similarly named stories lmao) is what ALL those other bitches THINK they are

the repeating pattern of all the men around her becoming obsessed with her not because of their Real relationship, but what they projected onto her- mirroring the common "heroine picks up 5 dudes nobly obsessed with her" trope in a much more realistic, gross way. the one guy who is Genuinely in love with her is a bit Obsessive with it but it still is genuine a result of her Actions, not whatever he made up in his own head

the way all the named characters, important or not, got a short and sweet (or. very Not sweet. the dressmakers story hit me with such powerful melancholy i had to put my phone down) backstory that explains who they are and why they act a certain way. down even to the "super supportive maid" all these stories have, who usually only get paired off with a spare man if theyre lucky, being revealed to being one of the most integral characters to the narrative

the Hints of lore but All of that lore doubling back to serve a purpose beyond a single relevant arc- maybe its just me but a lot of these generic female oriented fantasy novels love to drop a lot of keysmash-named lore dumps that arent rlly thought out that well. but here, for one example, jareds dragon killing story that helped the eris figure out the rules of causality coming back to be his karmic punishment? gold

and related to that, how they really went into the functionality of the fantasy world, how its real and not- milennia of history and legends and stories and people (awful as 90% of them seem to be lol) doomed to die, with medea dedicating her life to finding way to avert that? finding a new "author" within the story, a side character who before anyone else decided to change their own narrative by giving themselves a new name, changing fate before "eris" ever arrived?

helenas arc not being the now kinda overdone twists of "the perfect heroine from the story is actually a huge BITCH" or "the perfect heroine also transmigrated", but instead a woman who acted ignorant to survive learning that they may help you in the moment, but not forever, and finally Properly standing up for herself at the end

and to tie it all together, the premise itself. "eris" not wanting to just Accept her new life, not having a dramatically terrible life that one would want to escape, just a normal ho hum one with normal trauma and baggage anyone might have. addressing the "realities", as it were, of escapist fantasy- some people probably truly do want a whole new life, but 90% of people would end up desperately, achingly missing what they used to have

tldr kill the villianess feels like it stepped back, saw all the overused tropes of the genre good and bad, and decided it wanted to tackle them and tackle them well

[lucajayms]

i sincerely apologize for the rant

pre bullets gerard plsplsplspls!!!! they have an office crush at cartoon network then she moves away without telling anyone and they replace her (CUBICLES BEST SONG EVER) so then he just keeps wondering what may have happened, until mcr are playing like in another city during revenge era then mikey sees her in the crowd before a show and he goes to gerard right before going onstage and its like hey gerard remember that girl you talked about 24/7 in 2001, shes here tonight. and gee just freaks out while trying to play down the whole performance becase hes scared she wont like the whole fake blood/gay/screaming thing. then they finish the performance and he goes to find her and shes like all happy bc she knew he was gonna do much better things than to work at a shitty office. and shes a big comic book artist and does really weid like blood and vampire stuff so shes so happy that gerard also does weird blood vampire stuff. and then theyre happy and then the umbrella academy happens and yea

yea youre free to ignore this, i just have too much free time to imagine shit like this 👍

HELP I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH!

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CUBICLES

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gerard way x reader she/her used use of y/n

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masterlist

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warnings: swearing!

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"Maybe you could draw her more like this to bring out the background more so she's not just stiff," I instructed him. Gerard is a very talented artist, he just has a little bit of trouble deciding what to put where.

"But I feel like if she was a little different, due to her design, she'd go flat," Gerard argues, putting his pencil where he was describing.

I sigh as I place my hand delicately to my chin, trying to see what he's talking about. The deadline is soon and he's not done pitching these characters. "Honestly, Gerard? Whatever feels right. You'll get her."

"You sure?" He asks, seeking confirmation in my words.

I smile, nodding my head, "Yeah. Deadline is tomorrow, just do whatever feels right!" I say before I'm off to my cubicle to continue my project.

I knew he was looking at me. For weeks now, it had become a pattern—one I could almost draw if I could figure out how to capture that lingering gaze in ink. He thought he was subtle, keeping his distance and asking me barely relevant questions about some “project” or “character design” he’d been working on. Gerard was charming, though; there was no denying that. Quiet, a little too good at staring at his desk, and adorably oblivious to how easy it was to read him.

“Hey, uh, (Y/N)?” I looked up from my sketchbook, where I’d been mindlessly drawing a graveyard scene—something I had an odd fascination with lately. Gerard was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, wearing that awkward half-smile that looked better on him than it should.

“Gerard,” I said, glancing up with a smirk. “To what do I owe the honor?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I…uh…just wanted to see what you were working on.”

I flipped my sketchbook shut, even though I knew he was dying to see what I’d been drawing. “Just some stuff. You’d probably think it’s too creepy.”

“Try me.”

Maybe it was because I wanted to test him, see how he’d react to what was under the surface, but I opened the book back up and turned it to face him. His eyes widened as he took in the vampires, blood, and dark cemeteries I’d sprawled across the pages.

“You…actually drew all of this?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my cool. “It’s not much. Just whatever’s in my head.”

He laughed, this soft, surprised sound. “Whatever’s in your head is amazing.” He paused, his eyes lingering a second too long.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. “Well maybe not everything, Way.” I tossed my pen onto my desk, feigning nonchalance. “Can’t have too many weirdos like me around. Bad for the office’s reputation.”

And that's why I left.

Maybe I should’ve told him I was leaving. I hated the idea of going without a goodbye, but part of me figured I’d see him again. He’d get over it. Life had a way of carrying people in different directions, and honestly? I couldn’t stand the thought of another month behind that desk. I needed to be somewhere I could let these ideas out, somewhere that didn’t expect me to keep my weirdness behind a closed sketchbook.

The day I left, I watched the office fade from my rearview mirror, fingers tapping the steering wheel as a familiar guilt crept in. I didn’t leave him my number or my address or even a hint of where I’d gone. Some part of me hoped he’d figure it out. But after that, there was just silence.

Gerard

She left without a word. Just…gone. I tried to keep going like I didn’t notice, told myself it wasn’t a big deal. But the absence gnawed at me, creeping into every sketch and unfinished character. (Y/N) was gone, and I had no clue where she’d gone or why. I stopped asking questions after a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The thought became like an echo in my mind, constant and inescapable, pushing me to drown it out with anything I could find.

And I did.

One show after another, one drink, one line, whatever I could find to keep the silence at bay. The stage helped a little—at least there, I had the lights in my eyes and the noise blocking out the mess in my head. I’d stand in front of the crowd, hands dripping with fake blood, trying to exorcise whatever pieces of myself felt missing. But then the high would fade, and I’d be left in a dark room, trying to ignore the question that refused to die.

Where did she go?

I kept the band going, kept pretending it didn’t matter, kept letting the weight build. It wasn’t like I had any choice. The shows were packed, and the screams of the crowd felt like both a relief and a punishment. They had no idea. No idea that some days, it felt like I’d never get off this damn ride, that maybe I’d crash and burn right here. But something shifted in 2004. I couldn’t explain it—maybe it was seeing my friends’ faces or feeling the burn of another empty night. But I knew that if I kept going like this, I’d lose everything. I’d lose myself.

I finally made the decision to clean up, and in August 2004, I was clean. Free. My body hated me for it, and my brain wasn’t much friendlier, but I had to get clean. I couldn’t keep living on the edge of destruction. Every day after that, it felt like I was shedding pieces of the person I’d become just to survive. By the time I left, I was…well, I was alive. And that had to be enough.

It had been nearly a year since I’d gotten clean, and for the first time, it felt like I could really breathe on stage again. I could look out at the faces in the crowd and see them. Really see them, not just the blur of movement and lights I’d been numbing myself to. This was what I’d always wanted. This was where I wanted to be.

"MANHATTAN!" I scream into the mic and the crowd before more goes wild. "We are going to FUCK SOME SHIT UP TONIGH!"

And as I say that, Mikey plays the beginning of Give Em' Hell Kid. The set goes without hiccups, the crowd is perfect, and the most I've seen in a few weeks. Right as we leave the stage before the encore, Frank grabs me by my collar.

"Holy shit, Gee," He starts, and concern bubbles in my stomach. Did I do something wrong?

"What? What is it?"

He shakes his head vigorously, "I don't know if I'm tripping, but I swear to God I saw the girl you keep drawing in the crowd."

Fuck.

"What?!" I exclaim.

"Thirty seconds to encore!" One of the stagehands yells.

"Frank, where did you see her?" I ask, frantic. There's no possible way she could be here tonight. Why would she be here tonight.

"Our left, by the barricade. I think?" He explains, looking up to recount exactly where he saw her. My heart thuds against my ribcage as Frank’s words sink in, and I feel my throat tighten. (Y/N)? Here? After all these years?

"Ten seconds!" the stagehand yells, clapping his hands. Mikey shoots me a quick look, and Frank gives me a small, reassuring nod. There’s no time to think or even process—I’m barely holding onto the last traces of composure as we rush back on stage. I grab the mic, trying to get my focus back on the crowd, but every nerve in me is lit up, wondering if (Y/N) is really here tonight.

“MANHATTAN!” I shout again, forcing energy into my voice, hoping it’s enough to cover the wild surge of emotions that’s slamming through me. “YOU READY FOR ONE LAST ROUND?”

The crowd screams, and the band jumps into Helena, the encore I should be ready to pour my soul into. But all I can think about is her—her face, the way she used to sketch, her laugh. The lights are blinding, and I try to keep my focus on the crowd, but my eyes keep searching, desperate to find a glimpse of her. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but by the end of the song, I swear I see her—a flash of her hair, bright eyes, her face half-turned away in the crush of people, but unmistakably her.

The song ends, and we give a final shout before exiting the stage. As soon as we’re out of sight of the crowd, I turn to Frank, breathless.

“You’re absolutely sure it was her?” I ask, gripping his shoulder.

“Fuck, I don't know how accurate your drawings are,” he says, his voice serious. “Bit it was her, Gee. I’m sure of it.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, running a hand through my hair as the adrenaline surges through me again. "Where do I even start looking?"

Frank raises an eyebrow. “I’d start by getting your ass back out there before she disappears again. You just finished the show. You’ve got maybe five minutes before the crowd starts spilling out.”

I don’t waste another second. I dart down the steps, half-running, half-pushing past crew members as I head toward the audience exit. It feels like the longest, most insane few minutes of my life, weaving through the backstage area until finally, I’m in the thick of the crowd, scanning every face I can. And then—I see her.

She’s lingering by the side of the barricade, glancing around, half-smiling to herself like she might leave at any moment. She’s a little older, a little different, but I’d know her anywhere. I take a deep breath, feeling my hands start to shake, and then I call out, loud enough to cut through the noise.

“(Y/N)!”

She turns, her eyes finding mine, and for a moment, it’s like everything around us goes still. Her face lights up, and I swear I feel that same electricity that ran between us in the office all those years ago.

"Oh my god, you guys did so good!" She laughed, too, shaking her head. “Gee, look at you! Rockstar Gerard. I always knew you’d end up doing something wild, but I never expected…” She gestured at my blood-stained shirt and smeared makeup. “This.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, heat creeping up my face. “Yeah, well, it’s, uh, a little different from Cartoon Network, that’s for sure. But I never thought I’d see you at a show.”

“Oh, please,” she grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “I knew you’d be doing something big. You were always too talented to be stuck behind a desk, remember?”

I laughed, surprised by the surge of relief that came with her words. “Guess it’s been a while since anyone told me that.”

She softened, and something flickered across her face. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I had to move, and things got in the way, and…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged, a little awkwardly. “I never thought we’d run into each other again.”

“Same here,” I admitted, looking down. “But I’m glad we did. Even if it’s, uh…” I glanced at my blood-streaked hands, shaking my head. “Like this.”

She laughed, a bright, genuine sound, and I felt my nerves ease a little. “Honestly, I kind of love it. I’m doing comics, Gee. Lots of, you know…gory, bloody, vampire stuff. Seems like we’re both into weird stuff now.”

“Every time I go into a comicbook store, I look for your name.” I say, feeling a familiar spark of admiration light up in my chest.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, but her smile told me she was proud. “I kept drawing, kept pushing for it, and here we are. I got some stuff out that's been somewhat successful, but you—you’re the one really living the dream.”

It felt surreal, standing there with her, years and miles from where we’d left off. She was still (Y/N)—the girl who got me, who somehow saw through everything. But she was different, too. Confident, sharp, like she’d grown in ways I never got to see. And she was right here.

We fell into silence, the crowd thinning around us. Finally, I took a deep breath. “You know, after you left…I wasn’t great, to be honest.”

Her brow furrowed, and she gave me a sympathetic look. “I figured,” she said quietly. “It was a pretty messed-up time for both of us.”

I nodded, knowing she got it. “Yeah, I got pretty lost for a while. It took me…a lot to get back on track, but I’m good now. Clean, you know? And I’m just trying to keep my head on straight, one show at a time.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “Good,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “That’s what you deserve, Gerard. You don’t need anything dragging you down.”

I felt something click into place then—a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in years. “Thanks, (Y/N). Really.”

She grinned, glancing around like she was taking in the whole scene again. “Hey, I think we’re due for a major coffee catch-up. I want to hear everything.”

I chuckled, feeling that old sense of ease wash over me. “Deal,” I said, grinning back. “But only if you show me your sketchbooks. I wanna see all the vampire blood and gore.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You got it. Only fair, since I’ve got a feeling you’ve been drawing me for years anyway.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and together, we walked out into the night, talking like no time had passed at all. And this time, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

(Y/N)

What a fucking life. Leaving Gerard like that in 2001 did something to me, you know? Fucked me up. I felt really fucking bad.

But it's okay. We're good. And by good? I mean my boyfriend is the fucking lead singer of My Chemical Romance. Like, who gets to say that?!

After their final tour ended, Gerard was bugging me more and more about his comic that he was writing and that he desperately wanted me to illustrate for it. Apparently, he had been working on it for around three years, and he wasn't getting anywhere by himself.

"I don't know, baby. I got deadlines," I always say, but God, who could say know to that pretty face of his.

And so I finally agreed to illustrate The Umbrella Academy.

And boy, did that change my life.

[red-riding-wood]

Hi)

Saw that you’d like to write something angsty or maybe dark on Peaky Blinders🙂

Maybe Luca Changretta x reader where they slowly fall out of love with each other but meanwhile realize that they still will never leave because they’re so used to the way things are

(Also looking forward to your fic with Dmitri from The Grand Budapest☺️) 😘

Absinthe

Luca Changretta x F!Reader

Peaky Blinders

Warnings: sexual references, mention of kidnapping/violence, mention of domestic abuse, language, very vague allusion to suicide, lots of angst (this is not a happy story lol)

A.N. Thank you for the request!! I hope this is what you had in mind. I sort of wrote this on a whim at 5 am when I couldn't sleep and I ended up projecting a lot of my own shit onto both characters so I don't know if it'll be to your tastes 'cause I'm a bit iffy on this one myself. And thank you; I really hope to start writing Dmitri x Alice soon and am so excited for it!

WC: 1504

“You will not survive on your own, amore mio.”

You hesitated, your heart sinking into your gut as you feared his words to be true. A shiver danced wickedly across the bare of your flesh.

And then, tugging the Italian silk of your dress over your body, you stood, his hand falling from where it had sat cradled in your lap. The empty in your chest split a little wider; those fingers used to squeeze your hip and pull you back to bed as he’d beg you not to leave. Now, they seemed to possess no love, perhaps not even want.

You cast a glance to where they lay limp against the mattress, and dared to observe his sullen look, his clenched jaw, the way that eyes that used to be so bright with adoration now wouldn’t even look at you.

When was the last time he’d really looked at you?

It was probably when you were kids, just barely out of school, and the gloating smirk of the boy had fallen around his cigarette, and his green eyes had glittered like peridot, as you told him yes.

Yes, to marrying him. Yes, to loving him in sickness and in health. Yes, ‘til death did you part.

And this, this sickness of the heart, it had not released you from your oath. Instead, it killed you, slowly, snapped the threads of your soul one by one, seized one shard of your heart each time you looked at him.

The times that hurt the most were always when you looked him in the eye, because you saw your own need reflected in their decaying depths. It might’ve been easier if they were vacant, if they were as cold as his loveless touch and his bitter disposition.

“I may not,” you said. Silences weren’t uncommon between the two of you anymore; you never had anything to say that was joyful like you had in your youth. Breaking it felt like the air had simultaneously returned to your lungs while also being held captive, for you always couldn’t help but hope that he’d say something kind, but also didn’t know how long the silence would stretch afterward.

“But I’m hurting, Luca,” you said, your voice breaking now as a tear threatened to bead on your eyelash, and your chest tightened. “And this is the only way I can think of to be free of my pain. Other than…”

You swallowed a cruel lump in your throat. You didn’t wish to think about the alternative you had once considered.

Animated suddenly by a burst of raw yet barely caged violence, Luca tugged his robe sharply around his shoulders and fumbled for the box of matchsticks on the desk. He wedged one between the teeth he used to knead at it, his inhale deep. Both efforts to soothe a soul darkened by rot.

“I have to leave,” you said, but you had hardly made it more than a few feet to the door before his fingers had wrapped themselves vice-like around your wrist, yanking you back so that you nearly tripped over your heels. His wedding ring bit into the delicate flesh, chilling as it was painful.

And you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“You’re not leaving,” he growled, his tone almost predatory but that gaze, green like absinthe, entrapping you in a sea of emotions, pleading to you in morose glimmers that peeked past umber stripes of rage.

As you fought your tears, you conceded to his grasp, knowing he could easily overpower you if he wanted. And you shook your head, your lip curling bitterly upwards at what you had to utter,

“I’ve changed. I’m not your wife anymore.”

“The papers state otherwise.”

“Is this really what you want?” Your lip trembled with your own fury now – a fury that stemmed from your agony because you had nothing tangible to blame it on. And you struggled against his grasp feebly. “Do you really want a wife who’s unhappy? A wife who goes to bed every night with a hole in her chest?”

Luca’s grip softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw hurt flash across his irises. He turned his head away and brought his fingers up to brush across the faint stubble of his jaw.

And when his grip released, your wrist had never felt so wretchedly cold, and when he slammed the door behind him, your chest had never felt so achingly empty.

---

He had been so close to hurting you that time. Really hurting you, like he did the men who crossed his family or offended his honour.

But he could never hurt you. At least, he told himself such things, because in some ways, when he looked at you – still a stranger to the scars of violence that riddled his own flesh – he could sometimes see a ghost of the girl who used to be his lover, who used to be the girl with the shy smile and the beguiled gaze.

His fingers travelled across his chest to his lips, as he uttered his final prayer. The incense of the chapel burned nearly as thick as the smoke of the cigarettes he used to worship. Before you had made him quit.

And what had he done for you? He had done everything. He had given you a marriage, when you had nothing to your name, had given you the finest silks and jewelry and had taken you on a perfect honeymoon to Italy where you had made love with his name chanting from your lips like a prayer. 

Luca twirled the toothpick in his teeth bitterly.

But in saving you, he had condemned himself. Even in the solace of this moment, he found himself craving your touch, however frigid it had grown. Found himself incomplete, numb.

He’d taken an interest in another broad recently – a maid, but beautiful, with a soft, heart-shaped face and gently curved hips that begged to be ruined.

But it sickened him to touch her.

Because she wasn’t you.

---

With Luca away, you had had time to pack your belongings – just the ones that you needed. All purely practical, except for a letter, its ink bleeding at the edges of its handwriting, the love draining from the words he’d once written you when away on business.

Though you knew you’d regret taking it, it had felt wrong to leave something that used to make you smile with so much joy.

You waited for the train in the dead of night, the wind your only companion as it howled through the archways of the station. But it was not enough to quell the fear in your gut or ease the weight that pressed harder against your suffocated chest with each passing second.

You stifled a sigh as a sharp whistle split the distant, foggy air. And you once again fought back tears that welled in your eyes.

And then the winds shifted, and the cedar and ambrette notes of his cologne stirred something in your chest. You shivered as the warmth of his body settled behind you, long fingers running down the sleeves of your arms. The weight lifted only slightly on your chest, and oxygen returned to starved lungs.

“I told you you weren’t leaving, amore mio.”

You shut your eyes, swallowing against the knot in your throat.

And you thought, with this weight no longer sinking into aching ribs,

I’m not gonna make it on my own.

Your luggage was dropped to the concrete as the train came chugging along, rearing its head of iron and steel from the mists.

His fingers laced through your own, squeezing gently at them, tugging wickedly at a frayed thread of your soul, and you reciprocated, remembering a time when you had worshipped this very hand.

When you turned, his hot breath was exchanged with yours, and the full scent of him washed over your tired bones in a bittersweet familiarity.

And when he kissed you, an ember sparked in your gut that only he had ever been able to ignite, and the heat that pooled in your core was not a desire but a need.

Iron spiked your tongue as you pulled apart, some wrath that still brewed inside you having drawn blood from his lip while your hand cupped his cheek in an almost reverence.

Absinthe eyes sank intensely into yours, and though you knew from that gaze that he wanted you dead, he also needed you just as much as you needed him.

“You were right,” you breathed, your voice a mere whimper against the noise of the train. “I can’t survive on my own.”

Locks of his dusky hair teased your scalp, and his thumb traced the flesh behind your ear soothingly. And you had no idea that, had you boarded that train, his men would’ve been ordered to gag you and deliver you screaming back to him. And though as your foreheads pressed together and your tears spilled from shuttered eyes, it did not banish the pain from the hole that split wider in a chest that bled as slowly as the ink of the letter.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

TAGLIST: @eclecticwildflowers @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey

[fernsnailz]

Not sure if you’re familiar with Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time but I feel like Sonic Prime is the animated version of that game like the plot/style doesn’t really fit Sonic games while Crash both stays in that arcade jungle setting AND has the shattered time and space themes which they focus heavily on the recent game. The villains already are a bunch of scientists and I feel like either the team from Crash games or someone specific like Nicholas Cole just slapped Sonic Prime on the script for a Crash Netflix show and edited some characters

okay i understand the point you’re trying to make, but unfortunately you sent this ask to someone who works in animation and i need to set the record straight here: that is not how TV animation works

first, you’re right that Nicholas Kole worked on both Crash 4 and Sonic Prime! he’s also done work for the Spyro series, some Disney projects, and a bunch of other cool stuff. however, he specializes almost entirely in character design and concept art. this means that he helped develop specific parts of the visual look for Prime REALLY early on, such as designing some of the characters like Knuckles the Dread. however, that was likely the extent of his involvement in the show. character designers and concept artists normally do not edit the script, and often these artists draw their concepts before the script is even finished.

this is all stuff that happens VERY early in a show’s development, so Kole’s work on the show is probably multiple years old by now. and yeah, that jungle art DOES look a bit like the stuff that he did on Crash 4… because that’s just what Kole's art style looks like. he uses bright colors and varied shapes in a really distinct way on EVERY project he works on, which is probably why they hired him on Prime!

but even if that concept art was inspired by Crash, the jungle universe doesn’t even look like the concept art in the final version of the show! because it was concept art!! it was meant to be an exploration in styles, not a definitive look at the final product. this jungle below is a COMPLETELY different look than what was explored in the concept art. it sooooorta looks like the style of Crash 4, but it's FAR different from the initial concepts presented earlier.

(any person who modeled and painted this environment would ALSO have to be a dedicated Crash fan if they wanted to just turn Sonic Prime into Crash Prime)

and so far, this is completely ignoring the fact that the jungle concept art included in the ask probably isn't even Kole's. it looks very different from his style to me, and as far as i can find no artist has actually been credited for the leaked Prime concept art floating around. Kole has only mentioned his contributions to the character designs on Prime.

this is all a HUGE tanget from the actual argument you're trying to make in this ask, and i apologize for that - but my main point here is that this is a trend i see a lot in online fandoms, where people really like to place blame for issues in media onto one specific person and say "hey it's THIS guy's fault that this show is bad." what a lot of people don’t seem to understand is that these are collaborative art forms. there are so, so many people who worked on Prime, all the way from the first draft of the script to when it was being exported for Netflix, and a lot of these people probably don’t even show up in the credits! if there’s something you don’t like about this show, it’s unfair to single out a specific person to blame because TV shows are not made by one person. they come from a team of artists all working together to try and make something great, not one of the concept artists trying to turn the new sonic show into Crash 5. Nicholas Kole is a single character designer that worked on Prime. he is not solely responsible for an artstyle that you may dislike, because he is not the only person that developed the artstyle. there is no specific person to blame here.

regardless, i can’t really say much about your main point concerning the similarities between Crash 4 and Prime because i don't know as much about Crash series. my instinct is to just go “yeah of course they’re similar, multiverse stories with brightly colored rocks are the big trend in all franchises right now and they’re both 3D platformers from similar eras of gaming that have always featured cartoon talking animals fighting evil scientists, so of course they’ll seem alike.” but hey i mean what do i know

that's all, please know that this isn't meant to be an attack against you or anything! i'm just really used to seeing people blame individual artists and animators for stuff that isn't their fault, and i'm just. kinda tired of it. i will also spare you from my second ramble/disagreement about a sonic game or show in the crash style. because i think that would look fuckin INCREDIBLE

[spicyicetea]

So… I used to play Obey me a while back, but I finally decided to get back into it. You can thank Beel, I've always loved him. I decided that I'll open up my questions to any and all obey me related content but I also have a few ideas of my own I kinda want to write anyways.  I don't remember the plot of the original game that well. I know I could just go back and go through the chapters again, but I want to experience the game properly again so am currently waiting for the damn account deletion to be done so I can replay (Finally get to do it on the 19th). In the meantime,I've decided to start playing Nightbringer, I'm currently on Lesson 12, I don't remember what level though. I'm enjoying myself, Beel has been my focus since day one but seeing Diavolo in his demon form constantly… damn… ANYWAY!

Because I don't know the story as well as I generally know the characters, I have to make significant changes to the MC in my writing as I don't know all the vague lore you get about them every now and then. However, I've decided just blanking them out is too boring. A few complaints I've seen about x reader/xMCs is that they tend to be written with little to no significant personality, which makes sense to project upon but can become bland. I try to give my MCs different personalities and decide that I'll just do the same thing here. But, like more. I have one or two draft ideas but I'm still caught between them. I know I want to have the MC be an established character rather than a husk, it makes sense to have them be so blank for a game but it can sometimes make it hard to relate to such a blank slate in writing. (For me at least). Out of the drafts I've decided to go with, my first idea, which is to keep the Human MC but not have them be from the human world in the game. I was originally considering making the MC be from the real world, but to further differentiate the game MC to the way I want to write them, they're going to be from a world that is a bit more magical. It won't be blatantly in your face in the way of being overpowered or as strong as Solomon, but the MC isn't a pushover and doesn't like being disrespected. I suppose I should introduce our MC before posting the little preview to gauge interest. 

MEET MC:

Currently she is being represented by my persona, but there is 0 description of her appearance in the actual writing, well other than basic fem descriptors, tiddie and thicc thighs because I am a whore. Now you can kinda already see some vague lore with all the hands. As I mentioned before, this MC comes from a world with magic, including angels, demons and more. The five mentioned briefly in the drawing refers to some characters that help establish her backstory and why she is in the Devildom in the first place, they won't play key roles in the story itself, unless people are interested in who they are.

Obey me! x reader (slight Yandere/possessive behaviour)

Warnings: All writing on my page is either full Yandere or somewhat Yandere, with possessive tendencies. Many may include mentions of violence, swearing and sexual imagery. MDNI. Demons trying to stake their claim over you already.

Prologue kinda

The tip of my foot tapped against the tiles as I continued to whisk the frosting in the bowl, cradled in my arms. Swaying side to side to the tune I hummed under my breath, a soft tail curling around my ankle grounding me again. I look to my side with a smile, crouching down and running my free hand through the soft cats fur.

“Hiya Jiji, are you alright?” I cooed, my cat rolling onto her back.

I close my eyes in a smile as my fingers go to scratch between her ears, but instead brush against the cold floor. With a pout I open my eyes, only to stare at an unfamiliar floor. The air feels stagnant and keeps catching in my throat, randomly appearing somewhere else armed with only a whisk and a bowl of frosting would do that to someone though. At the sound of a loud “Ahem” I slowly rose from my hunched of position.

“Who are you?” A stern voice called from behind me, clearly not happy to have a visitor.

Biting my lip nervously I turned on my heels to face them only to be met with a hoard, oh wait group is the appropriate word. Scanning over their horns and defensive posture, they must be demons… but I had never seen any demons like them back home. Speaking of home, I don’t recognise this place at all from hell when I’d visit to do business. My eyes darted to the bracelet on my wrist, the charms dangling there and not responding as I pressed on them.

“Damn it…” I muttered under my breath.

“I’ll ask again, who are you?” The voice asked again far more forcefully.

I dropped my arm back to my sides as I looked up at the demons. Upon a second glance, it was clear that three of them weren’t demons but angels, well one seems to be human but a shady one at that. Despite the suffocating anxiety settling in, I bit my lip and debated my options. Dying in a foreign hell didn’t seem too nice right about now.

‘Remember Y/N, when meeting anyone, no matter their status, act polite and formal. It has the lowest likelihood of backfiring.’ A voice echoed in my mind.

As much as I hated it when… he decided to implant thoughts in my memory, they were often useful. Heeding the voice’s advice I promptly bowed, straightening my posture as a rose again.

“My name is Y/N, I’m a human.”

“Y/N? Human? How intriguing, how is a human like you here?” The man beside the first laughed, placing a hand on the stern one’s shoulder as he spoke.

As if sharing the same thought, the all turned to the white haired human before he chuckled awkwardly and shook his head.

“Don’t look at me, this isn’t my doing, I don’t know anyone named Y/N.”

I just stood silently, watching as they devolved into bickering, the red-head who had addressed me before standing aside with another man, entertained my their squabbles. That was until I received a firm poke to my shoulder. I jolt at the sudden contact, smacking them on the cheek with the whisk still in my hand.

“Oh, can I?” The ginger asked, motioning to the bowl tucked under my arm.

I raised a bow and just held the whisk up at his face, him leaning forward and licking the frosting off, starting blankly at me before changing to a content smile and licked the rest of the frosting off of it.

“Mmm, sweet, did you make this?”

“Huh? Well, yes?”

He nodded, grabbing my shoulders and turning to face the group, his yelling grabbing their attention.

“Lucifer! We’re keeping her!”

“What?! No we’re not!”

“I think it’s an amazing idea, Lucifer! She can move into the spare room in the House of Lamentation!”

“Diavolo… yes sir.” Lucifer sighed.

—————————-

And that’s how I ended up here, sat on a bed that was apparently now mine while a demon cooed and painted my nails.

“Ah, you look so adorable Y/N-chan,” Asmodeus sang, admiring my now dry nails.

It had only been a day since I had been… given refuge in this house, and it was already exhausting. The brothers seemed to not trust me, yet clung to me whenever I went into shared living spaces. I’ve been jumped on, bit and two of the brothers even started yelling at each other when their “Y/N schedule” overlapped. It wasn’t all bad though. The brothers weren’t the only ones present at the time and the others seemed to stick around.

As Asmodeus dragged me by my arm out of the room into the library, I gulped as all eyes drew to us, their hungry stares sending shivers up my spine. As my eyes met a pair of friendly gold ones, a grin spread on Diavolo’s face, ushering me over.

“Ah, Y/N, are both of you done with your pampering? Come sit with us!” Diavolo grinned, patting his thigh.

I walk over to sit between him and Barbatos, standing waiting for an opportunity to sit down. Both of them looked at each other with a smirk, Diavolo leaning back and patting his thigh again.

“Come, what has you hesitating?” He grinned.

“Wait, you want me to… sit on-“

Diavolo leant forwards, intertwining our fingers as he pulled me towards himself, using his other hand to spin me around and sit me on his thigh. I tense up, hands shooting to sit in my lap. His hands stay on my hips, rubbing up and down my sides as he casually continued to speak to brothers.

“Lucifer, have you thought about our previous discussion?”

“Yes, my brothers and I would be more than able to monitor her at RAD.”

“Wait what?” I ask, turning back to look at Diavolo.

He just chuckled and leant forwards, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“Well, you must be here for some reason even if you’re unaware, so we’ve decided to let you stay. To help you integrate into the Devildom we’re enrolling you in RAD, the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Lucifer and his brothers will look after you during your stay, so if any problems come up, please do tell them. I don’t mind if you come visit Barbatos and I though, I can always make time for… special guests.”

His horns rubbed against the back of my neck as his grip tightened when the other brothers come into the library. Yeah… this is going to be a stressful stay.

Yay finally managed to copy past this without my tumblr having a stroke. I hope you people like this, I’m down horrendous for these men and really want an excuse to write for these characters. The relationships will build quickly and each new update will focus on a character primarily, perhaps with nsfw? Idk depends on how well you all take this. There are some characters I think would make sense to get close to first in this so I’ll make it up to y’all. As much as I want Diavolo sadly I don’t think, going down the harem route, that he’d be the first one you offically started dating, he’d probably be either after or just before Lucifer to be honest.

[twstowo]

Chapter 1-2 [Sorceress!Yuu x OB!Characters]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: Wanting to help the collared people you follow Che'nya's plan and infiltrate the castle to befriend Riddle.

♡︎ Warning: None just Riddle being cute

「 ✦ PREVIOUS ✦ 」 「 ✦ NEXT ✦ 」

The plan was simple: get inside the castle, befriend Riddle, and try to change his mind about the collared people. But nothing really seemed simple to you, especially when you were expected to befriend a tyrant.

So, there you sat, perched on a chair, patiently waiting as the trio rummaged through outfits to find the perfect disguise for your role as the new palace architect. Che’nya, with a mischievous grin, mentioned the disappearance of the actual architect, leaving you with a nagging feeling that the details were best left unexplored. You couldn’t help but wonder how Riddle wouldn’t immediately recognize someone he had recently collared. Ace, unperturbed, dropped a blond wig onto your head, bearing an uncanny resemblance to your own hair, just a different hue—an inquiry you dared not voice. Deuce, on the other hand, overwhelmed you with volumes of the Queendom’s architectural styles. Days stretched into a week, your nose buried in dusty tomes, absorbing everything to brace yourself for whatever Riddle might demand. Amidst your studious immersion, you longed for the day this charade would come to an end.

Grim slept next to your books, he looked so peacefull as you reached for his head giving him some pats, brushing his fur with your fingers. At least someone was having a good time.

"What do you mean I, the great Grim, can't go with my Human?" Grim's voice reverberated in protest as he pointed an accusatory finger at Che’nya. The four of you sat sipping tea before the planned departure, and Che’nya had insisted that Grim couldn't accompany you. The rationale given was that Grim might cause disruptions that would compromise the entire plan. Initially, you had reservations about separating from your feline companion, having never ventured anywhere without him. However, Che’nya’s reasoning began to resonate.

"I also believe it’s for the best, Grim," you said, trying to pacify your betrayed friend. "Your help is crucial here." But Grim's disappointment was evident as he refused to meet your eyes.

"Fine. Go without me. But if you need help, don’t even think about calling for me!" With that proclamation, Grim stormed off, leaving you alone with Che’nya.

"How are you feeling? Tomorrow is the big day," he said, flashing a broad smile that did little to ease your nerves. You'd spent a lot of time contemplating what could go wrong—whether Riddle might recognize you, discover that he had collared you, or find your true intentions.

"Nervous, but I think I can handle it," you replied, attempting to project confidence.

"That's what I want to hear, nya!" He rose from his seat, offering a gentle smile that seemed to reassure you that everything would turn out okay. And you trusted him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

In front of you loomed the gates of the castle, towering above you like monumental giants. As nervous thoughts raced through your mind, you couldn't help but chuckle, recalling these particular gate styles from one of the books you had studied. Oddly, this recollection gave you a surge of confidence. When the guards ushered you inside, you encountered Riddle once more, this time greeted with a warmer reception. Surprisingly, he seemed pleased to see you. Perhaps your initial encounter had simply been an anomaly, or perhaps he saw you in a new light now.

Riddle took your hand and bestowed a quick kiss upon it/gave you a quick handshake in welcome. "I've heard quite a bit about you, an architect of considerable renown," he praised, elevating your spirits even though these praises weren't intended for you. "But, pardon my frankness, I had envisioned you differently." His comment made you widen your eyes, and you felt a sudden shiver run down your body.

"I hear that often," you replied smoothly, trying to maintain composure. "Before we discuss the building plans, I'd love a tour of the palace, just to gather some initial inspiration. If that's possible." You glanced around the entrance, taking in the surrounding rose-filled bushes.

"Please allow me to escort you around." Riddle's company led you through various rooms and halls within the castle, each adorned in shades of reds and whites. The floors boasted a chessboard pattern in black and white, a pristine and luxurious atmosphere entirely distinct from the dusty tower you once called home. After an extensive tour, Riddle guided you outside, revealing the verdant gardens and a sprawling rose labyrinth, meticulously tended by the royal gardeners. Finally, your journey concluded at a collapsed building.

"Several months ago, the collared peasants rebelled against my mother's regime and destroyed this beautifully crafted building," Riddle spoke, a hint of disdain evident in his voice as he referred to the collared people.

"Rest assured, there's nothing beyond my ability to build. I'll create something that will please the Queen's desires and more," you assured him with a smile, earning visible satisfaction from Riddle.

"Very well." Some guards approached, and Riddle turned to leave. "I entrust the rest to your capable hands," he stated before departing.

With a sigh of relief, you released the breath you'd been holding. Everything was proceeding perfectly, just as you'd hoped. Gazing at the ruined building, you found the guards and workers awaiting your instructions. "I need some paper and a pencil."

Swiftly, you sketched structures inspired by the palace's designs, blending in elements from other styles that harmonized well. After several hours immersed in the drawings, you raised your head to find all eyes on your sketches. A twinge of embarrassment hit knowing they'd witnessed the entire process. However, the awe and admiration in their expressions reassured you that your work was appreciated. Rising from your seat, you began directing everyone around, bracing yourself for the tasks ahead. This month would be demanding, but you were prepared.

Lying on the bed, you relished the comfort of the room Riddle had assigned you. It was quite spacious, and it struck you that Riddle seemed particularly fond of this architect. It dawned on you that you knew so little about this person—if Riddle asked you something, you’d be completely at a loss. Determined to remedy this, you resolved to locate the palace library the next day and educate yourself about the architect.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

You wandered through the palace walls, groggy from the night before, in search of the library. After a long walk, you finally found it and stepped inside. The sheer size of the place left you in awe. The bookshelves stretched like the halls themselves, laden with books of various sizes and hues. Everything was meticulously organized and devoid of any dust. There was so much to read, and yet so little time. For now, your focus was on learning about the architect. You hurriedly looked through the books about this strange figure. Fortunately, their face was never shown, signifying their desire for privacy. Most of the works were stunning, intricate creations, teeming with details you'd never encountered in the books Deuce had provided. You made mental notes about these, realizing that diverging too much from what Riddle envisioned could raise suspicions.

As you returned the books to their places, one peculiar volume caught your eye. It bore your last name, prompting a moment of confusion until you plucked it from the shelf. Inside, you discovered a book chronicling your parents' journey. It vividly portrayed snowy landscapes and recounted how they had earned their place as landowners, working their way into prosperity to establish something in their name. Memories from your childhood flooded back—moments with your mother, interactions with villagers, and the constant presence of a childhood friend who was always by your side. Everything seemed blissful, which made you wonder why they had locked you away in the tower. Questions swirled in your mind, but a strange, unsettling feeling urged you to cease your inquiry, casting a shadow over your thoughts.

Reluctantly, you returned the book to its spot, unwilling to dwell further. With a heavy heart, you moved toward the exit, your head bowed in contemplation. However, just before leaving, you noticed someone else in the library—a surprise visitor. To your astonishment, it was none other than Riddle.

You pondered whether engaging in conversation with Riddle was a wise choice. He appeared consumed by work and potentially quick to collar anyone deviating from his desires. However, before you could depart, your eyes met, and you found yourself captivated by his stunning blue gaze.

“Y/N,” he greeted you warmly, rising to meet you, and you were jolted out of your daydreaming.

“Forgive me, I just—”

“No need for apologies. In fact, I would love your company if you permit,” his tone unexpectedly tender. Was this the same person who had erupted when Grim landed on his head?

“Of course. How may I assist?”

“I’d like to hear your thoughts on my designs.” He gestured toward his table, displaying the most intricately detailed building plans you’d ever seen on paper. Your reaction was instinctual, you had to stifle your amazement. If he saw the design you'd given to the construction team, he might have certainly collared you.

“This looks—” You paused, realizing you were playing the role of a distinguished architect whom Riddle admired. You couldn’t merely fawn over his work. “Pleasant.” Despite the underwhelming choice of words, Riddle’s eyes widened with pride.

“I’ve been studying your designs extensively, attempting to draft the building myself. But my efforts could never compare to the real artist.” He regarded you as if you were his shining star, leaving you to wonder if he realized you weren’t the actual architect.

“I’m glad you appreciate my designs. It’s always nice to find a fan.” You offered a smile, and he reciprocated, clearly pleased with your words. Yet, even as he smiled, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, indicative of fatigue. “Have you been overworking yourself?” You posed the question, realizing afterward that it might not have been the most appropriate thing to ask.

“Well, I have my duties as the future king of the Queendom of Roses. I can’t simply set them aside,” he responded, a glimmer of happiness shining through as he realized your concern for him. On your end, you grappled with the situation. Your intention was to grow closer to Riddle to facilitate removing the collars from everyone, so you needed a way to break down his barriers.

“How about baking some strawberry tarts?” you suggested, sporting a cheerful smile. He looked at you with a quizzical expression, seemingly ready to dismiss your idea. “If you need to leave midway, I can finish what we started and bring you the tarts when you’re free. So, no need to worry about a thing.” You offered solutions, trying to convince him, though he seemed puzzled by your eagerness to spend time with him.

“If you insist, I could permit it,” he agreed, adjusting his tie in a nervous gesture. “But everything must be done precisely! And the kitchen must be perfectly cleaned afterward,” he stated, almost as an order. You nodded in agreement.

“Follow me, Riddle!” you exclaimed, taking his arm and guiding him to the kitchen, causing him to widen his eyes at your bold actions.

In the midst of baking the tarts, Riddle meticulously followed the culinary book's instructions, determined to use precise measurements. Any deviation seemed to stress him, and he'd restart if things didn't align perfectly. As he focused intently on each step, you couldn't help but feel frustrated by his strict approach.

“Riddle!” you called out, finally voicing your exhaustion with his rigidity. Startled, he dropped the spoon he was holding, his face flushing with a mix of emotions, perhaps anger or embarrassment, you couldn't discern. But you persisted, “This is why your designs aren’t perfect! Things like this aren’t meant to be perfect, they’re meant for the fun of it!” He seemed to freeze, absorbing your words. “When I come up with new designs, I don’t aim for perfection, I draw what I find fun at the moment,” you elaborated. His mouth opened and closed, as if struggling with your point. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought.

“So… I need to have fun? Stop trying to make my designs perfect?” he murmured, almost to himself, but you caught every word. You nodded, handing him the dropped spoon. He hesitated but then swiftly scooped flour, bypassing the measurements this time. You saw him gulp, battling his instinctual need for precision, yet he bravely added the flour to the batter.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it!” You clapped your hands, prompting a deeper blush from Riddle, who let out a sigh but continued to bake. You sensed that he had relaxed, gradually enjoying the process of making tarts with you. Despite his attempts to maintain a pristine kitchen and occasionally strive for perfect measurements, you noticed a significant change in his behavior, and that was what mattered most.

As you grabbed a large bag of flour, you lost your balance and tripped over your own feet, sending the flour cascading onto the floor and covering you both in its powdery embrace. Panic surged through you, as you slowly glanced at Riddle who also had been covered in flour from head to toe, you anticipated Riddle's reaction to the mess, believing that now even Che’nya could not save you from this one, but unexpectedly, he burst into a hearty laughter. You froze, stunned by his unanticipated response. Instead of anger, his laughter filled the room, and he even walked over, extending his hand to help you up from the flour-covered floor.

“I haven’t laughed like this in such a long time,” he chuckled, his cheeks tinted pink from the flour. His laughter was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile back. However, amidst the chaos and his laughter, you noticed something about him that felt strangely captivating, even covered in flour he seemed to have this angelic look to him, wait, what did you mean with angelic? Did he always look this nice? You shook off the thought, dismissing it as a trick of the moment.

“Sorry, I will clean all of this!” You hurriedly searched for a broom, but Riddle placed a hand on your shoulder, a warm and friendly gesture.

“I used to visit a friend of mine when I was young,” he reminisced, an unfamiliar softness in his tone. “One day, he tried to teach me how to bake. That day, I dropped a full bag of flour. I never heard the end of it from my mom, but it was such a nice moment…” His words trailed off, and both of you stood there, flour-covered but sharing a moment of connection. His hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment before he withdrew it, seemingly realizing the gesture's duration. “Sorry…” His demeanor shifted slightly as he began to look for a broom. “We should clean all of this,” he suggested, and you nodded in agreement, grateful for the lighter atmosphere between you both.

The rest of your free time was spent enjoying the tarts and tea, chatting about various topics. It became evident that Riddle was gradually opening up to you. Even if it was initially part of the plan, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed his company.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

After a long day, you finally returned to your room, feeling exhausted. The building constructions were progressing smoothly, even better than expected. As you made your way towards the closet to change into your pajamas, a strange knock caught your attention. It seemed odd for someone to visit at such a late hour, but you decided to investigate. Upon opening the door, no one was in sight. You shrugged it off, thinking it might have been your imagination until the same knock echoed again. This time, you scanned the room, even checking the windows, but found no one, until your gaze shifted to the mirror in your room.

“This is the first time we get to talk properly,” the strange woman in the mirror addressed you, her lips moving in sync with her words, yet she remained motionless, fixated on you. You felt frozen, a chill creeping over you—did ghosts exist? Were you so fatigued and sleep-deprived that you began to see apparitions? “I was expecting this reaction, but relax, I am not here to harm you. Quite the contrary, I want to help you.” Her voice, despite standing next to the mirror, sounded distant and echoed faintly.

“Who are you?” You approached the enigmatic figure cautiously.

“I am you from another universe. I believe your friend Che’nya has already explained most of it.” The revelation stunned you. She had been the one to free you from the collar. Hearing Che’nya's tale of being cursed to live inside a mirror, unable to experience the outside world, evoked a pang of empathy. Having been locked in a tower yourself for so long, devoid of interaction and exposure to the outside world, you could empathize with her isolation.

“How do I set you free?” Your directness caught her off guard, her head bowed to conceal her sorrow. It felt surreal—her facial features mirrored yours, almost like watching your reflection cry.

“Only someone with an immense amount of magical power can release me,” she replied, raising her head to fix her gaze on you.

“But is there anyone out there with that kind of power?” You questioned the possibility. While many powerful wizards existed, like Riddle, you doubted they could intervene in such a situation.

“You,” she responded, and your eyes widened in surprise before adopting a more skeptical expression. “I can grant any wish, but with each wish comes a curse that consumes the wisher, slowly eroding their sanity and driving them mad. Strangely, it also bestows a certain strength upon them.”

Your astonishment grew; the thought of losing your mind over a wish you were still uncertain about was daunting. Sensing your concern, she offered crucial reassurance. “Given that we are the same person, this curse will affect you differently. Your sanity will deplete at a slower rate.”

“Why does it affect me differently, and what happens if I completely lose my mind? What then?” You felt the weight of the seriousness setting in, wondering if helping her was worth such a dire situation.

“This is our curse. It works like poison—the more exposure you have, the less impact it will have over time.” She paused, extending her hand toward the mirror’s surface. “If you do succumb, I’ve discovered a way to undo the curse during my confinement here.”

“And what’s that?” You inquired, intrigued.

“A true love’s kiss.” The two of you stood facing each other in an awkward silence. What did she mean by a true love's kiss? You hadn't found someone who made your heart skip a beat, and as you began to voice these thoughts, the image of Riddle laughing, covered in flour, flashed into your mind, reddening your face.

“W-what? S-so, that means you’d just kiss all those guys you cursed?” You blurted out, still rattled by thoughts of Riddle. As soon as the words left your mouth, both of you seemed to stutter, embarrassed like two high school girls gossiping about their crushes.

It took a while for both of you to calm down and realize the gravity of the situation. Sighing, you took a few steps back and settled onto the bed, facing the sorceress. Emerging from a tower, only to be thrust into this chaos, you wondered if things were spiraling further out of control with each passing moment.

"Can't I just wish for you to be free?" you asked her, as this seemed to make the most sense.

"The power of the wish is connected with the magical power of the wisher." She looked at you with a sad expression. "And for now, you don't possess enough magical power. The only way for you to get stronger is to wish for smaller things for now." You nodded, annoyed with the revelation. Of course, things couldn't be as easy as you wanted them to be. How foolish of you. As you thought about any wish, with nothing coming to mind, you watched as she slowly started vanishing from the mirror. Some sort of magical dust slowly made your reflection show in the mirror as it used to. As you heard a strange voice in the back of your mind, "If you ever feel like asking for a wish, repeat these words.”

“Wish and want in sacred verse, Grant my heart's desire, universe.”

That was an incantation. You rushed to grab some paper before forgetting it, but as you started jotting it down, you realized it had ingrained itself in your mind. It seemed intentional, as if you couldn’t erase it even if you wanted to. You relaxed, lying back on the bed, letting your tired eyes close. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

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