#it's also my day off so. i have time to draw more

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Jerry Stokes - Champion Card Player and Professional Goober

Jerome “Jerry” Titus Stokes Jr. [10/02/80] [6'0. Yes, Bill is mad about this.] Secretary of Fantasy and Role-Playing Games AOL / Online Users: [XxLordxXxAtrocityxX] Theme Songs: Chronically Cautious - Braden Bales | Undone - The Sweater Song - Weezer | Polygon Dust - Porter Robinson Favorite Shit: Middle-Earth, Magic Cards, Percentile Dice, He-Man, Final Fantasy, Dragons, Tabletop Gaming, Conan, Studio Ghibli, Discworld, LARPs, Legend of Zelda, Earthsea, Yawgmoth’s Will, Gen-con, Xena, Aerith Gainsborough, Elfquest, White Magic

Therapy, check. Meds, check. Keys, check. Godsend Card Wars deck, check. EXTRA Card Wars deck in case some fucker tries to one up him, check... shit what is he forgetting *now*? It took him growing a backbone and his parents to finally get his ass to the doctor, but hey, at least he's here now, right??? right????? He's still trying to get Bill to come with him to the office to deal with his anger issues but it's like trying to climb Mordor bro; not gonna happen any time soon.

He's managed to make some new friends in the process, who knew?! Actually going to tournaments is so much more fun than just following Bill around all day--

I have the Power!

Jerry used to take Piano, as his parents tried to get him into as many extra curriculars when he was in elementary as they could to get him out of their hair (And.. hey, at least he learned something..?)

Because of this, he occasionally plays by himself on the practice piano he got as a kid, though usually it's just him learning soundtracks or transcribing the entirety the Ocarina of Time by ear.

y'know. normal everyday shit.

He has a habit of forgetting to trim his nails, however he keeps them relatively neat-- filed down and this dude actually showers and washes his hands like a maniac if he gets dirty, so it's not that bad. Plus, he's convinced it helps him pick up cards better without folding them.

Let's be honest, Jerry forgets a lot of things sometimes in his anxious scramble to get places. Including meals on occasion, which usually results in Josh jumping him as an excuse to get another snack for them both.

Would be willing to have his nails painted, absolutely, but will probably pick it off within the day as a fidget. Sorry guys.

Jerry met Matt at a Card tournament and they became rather quick friends-- and Matt whooped his ass when they played so he had to give the guy some props.

This dude gets the WORST bedhead and he barely does anything about it, just don't make fun of him if his hair is flat in the back please please please--

Jerry. Likes. Stripes. I feel like his mom dressed him up as the Girl who got sick with the Stripes once when he was a toddler cause he got covered in paint and it just *stuck*.

Jerry has also worn the same style of shoe and brand for the past 15 years he's not gonna start changing it now, fuckers

Can you tell he has a separation issue? no? then open your EYES.

This man absolutely gets ass his phone and aol are blowing UP like ALL THE FUCKIN TIME and he's so overwhelmed that he just ignores them all most of the time. most.

He ends up mostly subsisting off of tournament winnings and doing random odd jobs around the neighborhood, but at least it's enough to get him more cards and a bus ticket into Manhattan when he needs it.

Jerry still goes Bee-dee Bee-dee, he doesn't drop it entirely until post 2005-ish, when he meets Mandi. He DOES however, still use Buck as a nickname, cope. it's my world now.

cough uh he hates the feeling of underwear. those are basketball shorts. OOPS

god I love Jerry he's such a little dork

OKAY JOSHYBEAR IS NEXT Im gonna sob I also still have to draw May and Matt's cards...

fyuck

[quibbs126]

Okay, I think I’m FINALLY done with these designs. Well okay, I said Megatron might need some reworking, but shush, I’ll do that another time

I was not expecting this to take as long as it did. Apparently I started making this at 9 in the morning, and it is now 9:30 at night. Optimus, I am almost certain this is your fault

Anyways, as mentioned prior, the idea here was to give the Earthspark Cybertronians protoform designs like the Terrans, what they might look like when they were in this stage, because I haven’t seen anything to claim Cybertronians in this series don’t also have this stage, unless I’m wrong

I mean theoretically, Cybertronian protoforms could look entirely different from Terran protoforms, but we don’t know at this juncture, so I used the Terrans as my main references

Pretty much the main thing was trying to turn their blocky features smooth, while also taking out a bunch of their little details, like their antenna and horns

Honestly I still think Elita turned out the best, which is maybe a bit sad considering she was the first one I finished, but oh well. I don’t think everyone else was horrible, but I think she just looks best

I think Bee’s design is fine, and it was honestly refreshing after struggling so much with Optimus, but I can’t help but feel like his eyes are still wonky

Like I’ve said, by the end of things I think Megatron came out the worst. He was the second one I did, so I wasn’t sure, but by now I think he is. The real struggle with him is that his entire helmet is comprised of angles, when I need curves. And then there’s his side things, which I still do not know how to translate here. The idea I was trying to go for here is the top half goes around his head, while the bottom half is attached at the ends, but it’s the bottom half that looks weird. But ah well, hopefully I can fix it later

And then there’s Optimus. The majority of the time I’ve spent on this was him. It was mostly the struggle of his vents and trying to make them un-blocky. It was getting really frustrating particularly because I couldn’t think of anything new to do with them to change them, drawing the same thing over and over

But then I remembered, this Optimus was once Orion Pax, a fact I was planning to omit. But that meant I had something else to draw on

And it’s what finally got my brain to make his side things into the curves you see now. It’s also why his middle thing is solid black, like how it seems to be in the picture above

But yeah, I wouldn’t rate his design as the absolute best, but it’s serviceable and I’ll take what I can get

But aside from trying to change their designs, I think I had fun. I noticed by the end of it that they all have different face and eye shapes, and that’s pretty fun

Speaking of which, I notice with this how small Optimus’ eyes are here. They may not look it in my drawing but they’re a lot smaller than the others in the show. Is that one of the reasons his design looks so off? Like I know it looks weird, I just can’t place how exactly

But yeah, take these designs, the culmination of my drawing abilities for the day. I’d like to do more with them, I just don’t know what. Best I can think of is like, a fic premise where the Cybertronians somehow get reverted back to these protoform stages, and the Terrans now have to help them out

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (15/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With the rut drawing to a close, you and Sylus look to the future for what this means for you both.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor breeding kink. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (16)

Read on AO3

You soon realized that dragon ruts were not for the faint of heart. The next week of your life was the most exhausted you had ever been. Every single day, multiple times a day, Sylus found you wherever you were and fucked you within an inch of your life. He had cooled off a little, able to push aside the lustful haze to offer you some respite the longer it went on.

But that first day had been the most feral he had gotten. You hadn’t left the hoard room until late into the evening and that was just because you absolutely needed more food than what he scrounged up from the kitchen between rounds. Thankfully the entire rut didn’t need to take place in the hoard room so you at least got the cushion of the bed back to make things a little more comfortable.

You were also shocked at how sweet he was during the whole thing. Despite how rough things got and how filthy he spoke, he would always be there to help ease you back down. And if you really didn’t want to have sex, if you were just too sore for anymore he didn’t push you.

In between rounds you’d lay together and talk about what your future child was going to be like. “And you’re sure I’m not going to end up laying an egg?”

Sylus chuckled. “Yes. You won’t lay an egg.”

“But the woman who birthed you--”

“Was cursed and her womb magically altered to be able to lay a dragon egg. You are not cursed and because I am at least half human you should have a normal live birth.” Sylus assured you, “Although, the state of the baby is uncertain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was born I looked almost entirely human except for my eyes and as I got older the scales and tail and horns grew in. The children will most likely be the same way. But I do not know what all they may grow. Some might have horns and tails and wings and scales, others may not. Maybe one grows horns and scales but no tail. Maybe another grows wings but no claws. I cannot say for sure.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about little claws or horns complicating things when they come out.” you touched your stomach. You looked back at him. “Do you want to try one more time?”

His smile sharpened. “You bounced back quick this time. Alright then, come here.” He sat up in the bed. He pulled you across his lap, your back pressed to his chest.

He receded the armor around his hands with a small groan. “Sylus, I know it hurts you don’t have to--”

“I want to be able to play with your pussy a little before hand. The pain is temporary and not important.” he dipped his now clawless hand between your legs, the soft pad of his fingers swirling over your clit.

You reclined your head back on his shoulder as little blips of pleasure heated your body. “That’s it,” he said, “Always so responsive to me.”

He removed his hand from your pussy and sucked the juices from his fingers. You whined at the loss but you only got a dark chuckle in response. “Do not worry, little bird. You’ll get my hand and much more back in a minute. But right now, I need you to do something.”

He caressed your arms and lifted them up and behind you before curling them around his horns. “Hold onto these while I play with you and do not let go. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he sighed, feeling how tightly you were gripping his horns.

You thought he was going to go back to your pussy but instead he moved slowly, his hands gliding up and down your body at a lazy pace. He traced every dip and curve with his hands as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone. His mouth kissed down the column of your neck and to your shoulders. When his mouth landed on the faint mark of your mating bite he suck his teeth into your soft exposed skin. Arousal pooled between your legs as he continued to caress and tease you.

You could feel him getting hard underneath you. The hard ridge of flesh was hot and curved back to rest on your folds. You tried to grind against it but he pulled your hips back to keep them still. “Not yet.” his breath was hot in your ear, “I want you ready to burst when I put it in.”

He continued to strum your body, plucking at your most sensitive spots but without any of the relief you sought. It seemed wholly unfair that he could be so patient during a rut. Wasn’t he supposed to throw you to the bed and fuck you until you were screaming in a fit of lust filled rage? How come he was teasing you?

“Someone’s pouting.” he turned your face to his. “What do you want, little bird? What can I do to make that frown go away.”

“You can put your dick in me. That’d be a nice start.” you batted your eyelashes at him. “Please master?”

“Calling me master while I’m in rut,” he growled, biting your neck again. “Do you think that a wise decision?”

“I think it’ll get me what I want.” you smirked. “So please, will you put your dick in me and breed my pussy, master?”

“That dirty trick won’t work forever.” Sylus muttered angrily as he lifted your hips up.

“I just need it to work now.”

“Becoming my mate made you such a brat.” he hissed as he lowered you down onto his cock. “There, you have your precious dick snug in that tight little pussy. If you want it bred though, you have to work for it.”

“But--”

“You expect your master to do all the work? That’s what you’re here for. Now get moving but don’t move your hands. Keep them wrapped around my horns.” he cupped your breasts and pinched and pulled at your nipples.

You began shaking your hips, pulling yourself up and down on his lap. His cock slid against your walls, sending bursts of ecstasy into your brain while he played with your breasts. He had sufficiently worked you up enough that you felt like you could come right then.

“You feel so good, wildfire.” he moaned into your neck. “This is exactly where I want you forever. Fucking yourself on my cock, trying to make me come. Cause that’s what you want, right? You want me to come. You want me to come inside you and breed this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Yes!” you clamped down on him tighter. “Yes Sylus! I want it! I need it!”

“I know you do.” he groaned, drawing in a sharp breath as you sped up. “You make me wanna come, wildfire. Just keep bouncing yourself on my dick.”

One of his hands trailed down your stomach and found your clit, adding to the sensations that were already overloading your body. “I won’t come until you do.” he said. “So if you want my cum you have to come for me, wildfire. Come on you master’s cock and he’ll give you what you want. What you need.”

“Ha…ha…ah fuck!” you forced your hips to move faster, chasing a release so close yet just out of reach. Your hands were cramping holding onto Sylus’s horns. The tighter you held them the heavier his breathing got.

“Sylus…” you whimpered. You were so close. “Sylus please!”

“Right here. I’m right here.” he craned your head back to kiss you. “You can do it. Just come for me.” he rubbed your clit faster, his other hand squeezed your breast.

“Sylus!” you moaned against his lips as you both came. He smothered the moan with another kiss, panting against your lips.

“So good. You are so fucking good, wildfire.” he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

Your arms fell to your sides as you relaxed against him. He rubbed at your shoulders, relieving the ache that had grown there. He moved you back so you were laying side by side on the bed again.

You took several deep breaths to center yourself, grounding yourself by nuzzling into Sylus’s chest. “Hey, not that this hasn’t been a lot of fun but how much longer is this rut going to last? I’m getting exhausted.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “You were the one that tackled me into bed this morning, not the other way around.” he reminded you. “I think you forget that your libido is just as bad, if not worse than mine can be.”

“Fine. I admit it. But really, do you think we’re any closer to knowing if I’m pregnant or not?” you stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my sweet little bird,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “If you had let me speak this morning instead of dragging me back into bed I would have been able to tell you that you already are.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant. I could smell the change this morning. That’s why I originally came in here. I was going to tell you after you had a chance to wake up a little more.” he was smiling the widest you had ever seen him.

“I’m really…” tears sprang to your eyes. “We’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes, we are.”

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck. It was happening! It was really happening!

Oh gods it was happening…you were…with a… You were going to give birth to a little dragon baby. Oh gods. This was actually happening! It wasn’t just a fun roleplay in bed. It was real. You had a little dragon growing in your womb.

“You look panicked. Are you alright?” Sylus asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am! I am ridiculously happy!” you assured him. “I’m also kinda terrified. In a few months we’re going to have a baby. We’re going to be parents and be in charge of another life. I mean, how do we even do that?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

With your pregnancy confirmed the rut wore off. You were thankful for the respite but now your mind was filled with nothing but preparations for the baby. You weren’t even showing yet and all you could do was make lists of things that needed done.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?” You asked Sylus one afternoon as you sat at the kitchen table, a list of things that needed done in front of you. At the top of the list was make a nursery.

“I suspect they’ll sleep in our room until they’re old enough to move them to their own room. There’s a lot of empty rooms in the mountain. We can fit a whole brood of hatchlings in here.” he kissed the top of your head and went about grabbing a bowl of stew from the large pot over the fire.

“A brood? Exactly how many kids do you want to pump into me?”

“I was thinking at least six or more.” he said with a shrug.

“Six!” you shouted.

“My ideal is nine since it’s a lucky number.” he took in your dumbstruck expression. “What?”

“You are insane if you think I’m going to birth nine kids.” you couldn’t even comprehend having a family that large. “I’ll give you three.”

“Seven.”

Was he haggling the number of kids you were going to have? Fine then. “Maybe four.”

“Five?”

“Four.”

“Alright, four.” he set another bowl of stew done for you. “Make sure to finish that. You’re eating for two now.”

“I know.” you set the list aside. “I need to go into town and do some shopping later, as well as tell my father and friends the news.”

“I’ll take you down whenever you’re ready. Are you nervous at all about telling them?”

“A little. It’s only recently that father came around to you and I’m not sure how he’s going to react. I hope he’ll be happy with the idea of being a grandfather at least.”

“You’re giving him his first grandchild, he’ll be thrilled no matter what.” Sylus assured you.

You grabbed some coins from the hoard room and left with Sylus for the village. Your first stop was to find your father and tell him the news. Sylus walked with you to the house but stayed in the background as you talked to your father. Your father was shocked at first but was soon smiling and congratulating you and Sylus both on your upcoming bundle of joy.

“I’ll have to get started working then.” he said, “I’m going to make a mobile for you to hang over the crib.”

“That sounds wonderful, father. Thank you.” you hugged him again. “I actually came into town to commission the woodworker for the cradle as well as buy some fabric and yarn to make baby clothes. I also need to find Tara and tell her. I know she’s going to be thrilled too.”

“That she will be. Congratulations, sweet pea. I can’t wait to meet them when they’re born.” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and you were on your way.

You left to run your other errands. Sylus was still by your side, looming in the corner wherever you went like a shadow. The village had really come to like him but he was still rather uncomfortable with the attention. He looked like he was going to fly away when you told Tara the news about your pregnancy and had given Sylus a huge hug in her excitement. She had promised to do a reading for your pregnancy as soon as possible and tell her mother so she could make you a perfect baby blanket for the little one.

Your last stop after the fabric shop was the woodworker to commission the cradle. There were some other people there that saw you come in with Sylus and froze. The woodworker looked up though and smiled. “Ah, what can I do for you today?”

“Hello, I came with a very special request. Mind you, I won’t need it for a couple months so take your time but what I really need is a cradle.”

“A cradle?” the woodworker smiled. “Oh my dear girl, you’re having a baby?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Another mighty dragon in the village. What wonderful news.” the woodworker called to Sylus, “How big of a baby do we need to plan for?”

“A regular sized cradle should be fine.” Sylus said. “They shouldn’t be much different from a human baby.”

Sylus looked to his side where a man that had been waiting in the shop was staring at him. You didn’t recognize him immediately but it was a decent sized village, you didn’t have every face memorized. Sylus didn’t seem to appreciate the man’s staring and glared at him. “Do you have something to say to me?”

The man shook his head and took off. While most people in the village were used to Sylus there were some who still didn’t entirely trust him. It was an inevitability but hopefully in the years to come everyone would come to recognize him not as a threat but as a neighbor.

Once everything was done and finished you stopped by to say a final goodbye to your father and returned to the mountain.

You set what you had bought down and started getting preparations ready for dinner. While you were cooking you kept hearing Sylus walking back and forth past the kitchen. What was he doing now? While dinner simmered over the fire you went out to find him.

It was then that you noticed there was a carpet under your feet. That definitely hadn’t been there before. Where had it come from? And there were more carpets! They made a trail down the corridor and into your bedroom. Sylus was in there unrolling another carpet and layering it with the others.

“What are you doing? Where’d all the carpet come from?”

“Ah, yes,” he stood up, “I got to thinking that when the baby is born it’d be best if they had something soft to crawl around on so I’ve been finding whatever rugs I could from the hoard room and laid them out. I may also need to go around the walls and smooth them out so if they run into them they don’t get cut.”

It was endearing watching him worry and fret about how to make the mountain safer for your baby. You hadn’t even been pregnant a month and he was already doing so much. You walked up to him, your feet squishing against the plush carpet, and hugged him. “I’m so glad that our baby is going to have you as a father. I really am.”

His arms closed around you. “I’m the lucky one, really. To have a child with you. Knowing that this child is going to have you as their mother.” he knelt down, his face inches from your stomach. “Your mother is so good, little one. And I am going to love and protect you both for the rest of my life. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen to you so long as I draw breath.”

He kissed your stomach. You ran your hands through his hair, holding him there as he rested his head against you. “I can’t wait to meet our little one too.”

[delulusionwl]

♡ I Can't Keep You Off My Diary ─ pt i

♡ I Can't Keep You Off My Diary ─ pt iI Pairing ── Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader! | Apollo!Daughter Word ── 2k Synopsis ── In wich Clarisse see drawings of herself in reader's diary. Warnings ── Nothing much? (I hope), Clarisse and her group being annoying as usual, Reader being the target of their teasing? A bit of low self-steem? Insults of reader's apparence? (nothing related by weight, high or strong facial features or body limbs) Please help me with this, I'm new lol A/n ── English is not my native language, forgive any mistakes! Please alert me if any of the nicknames might be offensive to any racial group. I would hate for that to happen, and it’s not my intention. However, since my native language is not English, some of the nicknames may not have racial connotations in my language – which might happen in English. I appreciate your help with this! Please, let me know if it's good hehe :) Part ii has been released, go check it out!

Y/n wasn’t like any other child of Apollo. She stood out from the more predominant characteristics of all her siblings. The truth was that she often felt like an ugly duckling, with no hope of turning into a beautiful swan.

Amidst her siblings—blond, red-haired, or light-brown, with eyes ranging from honey to the brightest green—Y/n stood out, but not because she radiated more light than the others. Her beauty was cold. While the others resembled a beautiful morning sunbeam, Y/n kept her rays hidden behind layers of clouds—enough to light the day, but not enough to make it vibrant.

Her dark eyes and hair, along with her lightly tanned skin—barely touched by the sun—set her apart from the other children of Apollo, who seemed to be lovingly kissed by sunlight, vibrant, vivid, golden. These features enhanced Y/n’s cold beauty, making her impossible to go unnoticed. Some even claimed she couldn’t be a child of Apollo if the god himself hadn’t claimed her.

Despite her strong and contrasting characteristics in her cabin, Y/n’s abilities proved her to be a legitimate child of the sun god. In training and combat, her bow was her strongest point, always hitting its mark regardless of whether the target was stationary or in motion. She was also a good healer, like most of her siblings, and helped in the infirmary during tough times—especially after Capture the Flag.

What truly made her stand out, however, were her artistic talents: writing, singing, and drawing. Y/n excelled at everything related to art but insisted on keeping it to herself, even among her talented siblings. This was another distinctive trait: unlike most children of Apollo, she wasn’t a social butterfly. She didn’t flaunt her talents or surround herself with friends like her siblings. Y/n was more introspective but could be a great friend when she wanted to.

Y/n’s cold beauty set her apart from all the other children of Apollo. She didn’t go unnoticed—least of all by Clarisse.

The daughter of Ares had seen Y/n’s arrival at camp, skittish like a scalded black cat. Like everyone else at camp, Clarisse had initially thought, So Hades had a daughter? But the truth came out shortly after the rumors spread. Y/n was a daughter of the sun.

Clarisse, already a standout in her cabin, with her group well-established, “welcomed” the new daughter of Apollo to camp. From then on, whenever Clarisse saw Y/n, it was impossible not to make jokes about her appearance.

“Oh my gods, are you sure you’re Apollo’s kid?”

“If the sun had a cold, dull version, that’d be you.”

“Hey, Winter Apollo, ready to brighten our day? On second thought, don’t—the day might get even worse.”

“I always thought Apollo’s kids were lively and full of energy. But you? You seem to be on night mode all the time.”

Many such remarks were made by Clarisse and her group over the years. Sometimes, Y/n even laughed along—not to appease the children of Ares or ingratiate herself, but because the jokes were genuinely creative. The first time Y/n laughed, it only fueled sharper, slightly more biting remarks.

Clarisse vividly remembered the day. The sun was setting, giving way to night, and Y/n was returning to her cabin after a long day helping in the infirmary. Clarisse and her group were heading to their own cabin, inevitably crossing paths with Y/n.

Y/n looked at the group ahead, her expression neutral. As she moved to step aside and let them pass—hopefully without interaction—she was stopped.

“Well, well, the daughter of Apollo. If that’s really who you are. What’s this? Stole the essence of the sun but forgot to bring it to camp?” Clarisse teased, stopping briefly in her path, scanning Y/n from head to toe with an amused grin as her siblings laughed at her comment.

To the children of Ares’ surprise—especially Clarisse’s—Y/n let out a small laugh. The sound echoed in Clarisse’s ears, her eyes locked onto Y/n. “There’s the glow,” Clarisse thought, captivated by Y/n’s smile.

When Clarisse finally shook off the thoughts and the sound of Y/n’s laugh, her siblings were already piling on more jokes, sharper than before. She quickly snapped back to the present, slipping her hands into her pockets.

“Gods, with the way you are, Apollo might be rethinking his parenthood,” one of Clarisse’s brothers said, gesturing dismissively toward Y/n. This time, the comment didn’t amuse her as much, though the other children of Ares—Clarisse excluded—found it funny.

“Come on, leave our little sunblocked alone. Or she might start crying,” Clarisse said with a playful grin, eliciting more laughter from her brothers as they moved on toward their cabin.

As they walked away, Clarisse’s gaze briefly returned to Y/n, who took a deep breath and resumed her own path, glancing back at the Ares group and briefly meeting Clarisse’s eyes.

From that point on, Y/n wasn’t often seen near the Ares children. Camp was full of demigods, and Y/n would inevitably cross paths with others—or so Clarisse thought. But Y/n mainly appeared in training, the dining pavilion, occasionally in the infirmary, and during Capture the Flag.

Wherever Y/n was, if Clarisse was nearby, her eyes seemed magnetically drawn to the daughter of Apollo. Whether it was a crowded space or an open field, Clarisse couldn’t help but look, even if just for a few moments.

The first time Clarisse’s eyes were locked for more than a few seconds and she couldn’t look away from Y/n was in the dining hall at night, where the daughter of Apollo was talking with her siblings, wearing a beautiful smile and laughing softly with them.

The embers of the flames from the dining hall’s pyre made her dark hair shimmer with red and golden highlights, and her skin reflected the flames almost like a mirror, becoming subtly flushed from the heat and glow of the firelight. Her dark eyes and a smile just a bit wider than usual seemed to brighten the surroundings. Clarisse swallowed hard upon noticing all this and forced her attention back to her own group.

The daughter of Ares tried not to think about the daughter of Apollo over the years, but Y/n had already carved out a place in Clarisse’s curly-haired head. So, every time she spotted Y/n from a distance, Clarisse allowed herself a few seconds to look at her, just enough to take her in, before quickly turning her attention back to her group, pushing thoughts of the daughter of Apollo away.

Those thoughts, however, were about how Clarisse would like to see Y/n more often, how she hoped to talk to her more often... maybe without the sarcastic remarks. But Clarisse’s brain had already made a list of jokes, each one less rude and intimidating than the last, but a little funnier, unconsciously hoping to make Y/n laugh at one of them again.

Until one day, Clarisse, accompanied by two of her group members, was on her way to Hephaestus’s forge. Alec, one of Clarisse’s brothers, had left his sword there to refine its blade since the Capture-the-Flag game was at the end of the month. As they walked across the open lawn where a path led to the forge, Clarisse’s eyes fell on someone sitting in the grass with a notebook and pencil in hand, facing a bird perched on a rock.

The daughter of Ares chuckled through her nose, catching the attention of her brothers, who were casually chatting about a few strategies and how they hoped to defeat the children of Athena in the upcoming Capture-the-Flag. Alec and Darius smiled, amused, as they followed Clarisse across the lawn.

“Look at that, it’s ‘Apollo on mute,’” Clarisse said as they got close enough, causing the bird on the rock to quickly fly away and Y/n to look up at her, squinting slightly against the brightness of the day. Alec and Darius’s laughter was audible. Clarisse glanced at the open notebook in Y/n’s hands, which contained a few sketches: on one page was the landscape of the field, and on the other, the startled bird. “What do we have here?” Clarisse said, snatching the notebook from the other girl, who jumped up immediately.

“Clarisse, give it back!” Y/n said loudly, nervous, stepping closer, but Alec and Darius were quicker, positioning themselves in front of her to prevent her from reaching Clarisse, who held the notebook in her hands.

"Ah, what’s the matter?" Clarisse said with an amused laugh, and Y/n looked at her nervously, casting the same uneasy glances at Alec and Darius, who were thoroughly enjoying the daughter of Apollo’s reaction. "You’re not half bad at drawing, Ray-less." The daughter of Ares turned her attention back to the notebook, flipping a page and finding a drawing of a rose with many thorns curling across both sheets, along with some scattered phrases, some in Ancient Greek and others in English. Fragments of what seemed to be thoughts. "Oh... look what we have here... is this a diary?" Clarisse said, laughing, as she turned another page to see what else was inside.

"Clarisse, this isn’t funny. Give it back. Now!" Y/n said in a louder tone, reaching her hand out quickly, demanding that the daughter of Ares return her notebook.

"Chill, girl," Clarisse said nonchalantly, looking at the page she had turned to. "Why the rush, Y/n? Did you write down who your crush is in here?" The daughter of Ares laughed, and that was enough for Y/n to try pushing past Alec and Darius, who were standing right in front of her, to snatch the notebook from Clarisse herself.

"Hold it, overcast sky," Alec said with a sarcastic smirk, stopping Y/n from getting any closer.

"Clarisse!" Y/n called out loudly, her eyes fixed on the girl, who had just flipped another page in the notebook.

As soon as Y/n saw Clarisse’s eyes widen slightly and her lips part softly, her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed hard. "Shit." The daughter of Apollo thought, swallowing again.

"C-Clarisse. Give it back!" Y/n pleaded, her voice trembling, her face starting to turn red, but Clarisse’s eyes remained fixed on the notebook as she turned more pages.

The daughter of Ares’s brothers grew curious, and that was enough for them to move closer to their sister, one on each shoulder, peering at the pages in the hands of a practically frozen Clarisse.

"IT’S YOU!" Darius shouted in delight, and Alec burst into laughter while the two girls stood there, almost like statues.

Some drawings were heroic, worthy of one of those paintings of the Greek gods: Clarisse with her spear, battle clothes, hair and parts of her attire flowing in the wind, claiming her victory over faceless enemy bodies. Clarisse shouting and warring, accompanied by her own army of faceless people.

Other drawings? Something simpler, calm… gentle, perhaps a side of Clarisse she didn’t let many see: Clarisse smiling with her siblings—not a sarcastic or amused smile, the one she always gives after tormenting another poor soul at camp. No, not that one. It was an open, carefree, and relaxed smile. Clarisse with her piercing eyes and long lashes, looking straight at whoever's eyes were on the page. Clarisse with a small smile, just like she had during one of the past campfires, except this time with a flower in her hair. A real flower, pressed between the pages of the same drawing.

Y/n cleared her throat while Alec and Darius laughed beside a frozen Clarisse, who was staring at the drawings.

"Had your fun?" Y/n said, steadying the tremble in her voice, stepping forward and snatching her notebook back quickly. She closed it and started walking back to her cabin. Even though Y/n tried to appear unshaken, the undertone of her voice betrayed her mortification.

Clarisse finally snapped out of it when she heard the firm steps on the dirt fading away. She turned, watching Y/n moving away as fast as she could, while her brothers still laughed beside her.

"Wow, she did more than just write down who her crush was," Alec said, chuckling.

"Congrats, Clarisse, you’ve got yourself a fan," Darius said, laughing even harder, leaning on his sister’s shoulder.

Clarisse brushed Darius’s hand off her, and although her face was flushed, her brows were furrowed, and the glare she shot Darius was far from friendly.

"Shut up, idiot," Clarisse snapped at Darius, irritated, shoving him hard enough to send him to the ground. When she turned to Alec with the same fiery glare, he shut his lips and raised his hands, trying to compose himself. "I swear to the gods," the daughter of Ares muttered angrily, trying to pull herself together.

"Just one question..." Darius said as he got up, catching his breath. "Why’s your face so red?" He smirked, teasing his sister, while Alec struggled not to laugh.

"It’s the sun, idiot." Clarisse said curtly, blaming something else as she started walking again toward Hephaestus's forge, refusing to think about what had just happened.

Alec and Darius followed a few steps behind her, stifling their laughter, while Clarisse stomped forward, determined to keep her thoughts far from Y/n’s notebook. Far from Y/n.

"'Apollo on mute' has her glow," Alec whispered to Darius, who stifled another laugh as they trailed behind Clarisse. "Clari, wait up!" Alec called out, still laughing.

Part 2 >

[zais-zafu]

Hi, sorry if this is personal, I just wanted to know what you manifested with the help of the loa

hii

hmm, I can't share everything but I am happy to provide some. I have a couple of posts around that but off the top of my head, here are a few:

• appearance change like I got my desired face, body hair loss, clear skin, bigger eyes, longer lashes and fuller brows, different facial structure, fuller lips, faster muscle growth, symmetrical face & body, etc.

• money!!

• full ride scholarship + desired uni

• gifts, just the other day I randomly got a smart watch just because

• dream wardrobe

• massive opportunities that I always wanted to have

• certain situations playing out exactly how I wanted, desired life plot ig?

• people in and out my life — I don't manifest sps & relationships directly but ig working on sc makes you attractive to the people you like + makes things go how you want without you consciously manifesting it

• desired friendships

• desired contact with some influencers

• changing my parents & home situation

• perfect gpa (even tho I don't really study or work hard in my classes) & natural intellect

• popularity within my major

• huge confidence in public!

• princess treatment

• being productive and healthy

• my friend's leg not being broken after being in an accident

• becoming more talented in singing, drawing, writing, and other hobbies without even practicing

• driving licence (even tho I was scared shitless of driving)

• new car on my bday (not for me tho cos I don't like driving lol)

• a fun, exciting & also peaceful life!!

• desired bday

• pretty sure I quantum jumped / shifted a few times cos people look at me crazy when I remember things being different around here lol

• just for fun I did the purple car challenge and it worked + I did the same for lime cars (cos I needed more confirmation lol) in one of my bus trips and I saw one (I still see both lime and purple cars to this day) + recently saw a lime & purple car in the uni so yeah, the law is real 100%

• mental peace — my mindset around life has drastically shifted (no longer in what felt like a rat race) + my mind is a safe space for me now <3

• and a high sc ofc

hope that was motivating to read !!

[rhondafromhr]

Hey y’all,

This isn’t an easy decision, but I’ve decided to deactivate my blog. I don’t want anyone to worry about me, so I want to let y’all know I’m alright and mentally I’m doing better every day. I’ve just realized that I’m at a point in my life where I’ll be happier and more mentally well if I have no social media whatsoever, including tumblr. More details below the cut if you’re curious (mainly just me being sappy about how much fun it’s been and how amazing my mutuals are).

I’ve had a blast here and found so much fun, joy, community and creativity at a time in my life where I desperately needed it. Seriously, I can’t overstate how much it meant to me. It was so much fun playing pretend with you all, hearing all your thoughts and ideas, reading your incredibly thoughtful takes and analyses, bouncing ideas off of each other. You all helped me reignite my passion for writing and rediscover a lifelong fun, fulfilling hobby—I never would have started doing it again if it weren’t for the nerds corruption AU and my life would look completely different now. All the love for my fics and unhinged AU ideas meant the world to me, too.

And of course this sappy goodbye post wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t mention how amazing, kind, creative and talented my mutuals are. Aurora, thank you so much for all the moodboard requests you did for me, they were all amazing and brightened my day so much, for having so much appreciation for Grace and really influencing how I saw her character and just for being a lovely person in general <3 Ali, I haven’t seen you on here in a minute but if you happen to see this thank you so much for that drawing!! You are such a talented artist with a really cool, unique style and I still haven’t forgotten it. Ellie, you’re an incredible writer and I’m sure you’ll be seeing me in your comments section on ao3. I’ve had so much fun whenever we’ve interacted and bounced ideas off of each other and you’re just generally a really cool person with immaculate vibes. Thank you for being the mutual that Gets It. Elliot, you’re a super talented writer as well, and thank you so much for all the sweet comments you’ve left and the general good, positive vibes you bring to the fandom. Cosma thank you for giving Brenda the appreciation she deserves and for also being so much fun to interact with. I love how you always engaged with my weird AU ideas and built on them, and how you came up with so many amazing and creative ideas both for fanworks and your original content. And Sanguine thank you for all your support on the corruption AU from the beginning, it meant so much to me and was really motivating.

Even if I didn’t mention you here, if we were mutuals and we interacted at any point, you meant something to me and I thought very highly of you (I’m big on cultivating my experience here and I was absurdly picky about who I followed. I was honestly kind of ridiculous about it lol)

All that being said, I think it’s time for me to move on. For all the wonderful things this website has to offer, there are downsides and I often find myself wasting hours mindlessly scrolling, and sometimes getting genuinely stressed about and fixating on really dumb, petty stuff that literally doesn’t matter in the slightest. I’ve also struggled with OCD for a majority of my adult life and while I’ve been in recovery for going on two years, its kind of been resurfacing lately and I think some of the prevalent attitudes and rampant reblog bait found on this website have contributed, even if they aren’t the main reason. I’ve tried to cultivate my dash, but some things inevitably slip through.

Overall, I just need to be more present and in the moment with the people I know in real life and devote more time and energy to my IRL goals if I want to move forward. I think in order to do that, I need to cut myself off entirely, because I do use fandom on tumblr as a vice and a distraction, often to a degree that I think has become unhealthy.

I’ll still be active on ao3 (username rhondafromhr) and probably continue updating my current WIPs and writing more for Hatchetfield as well as other fandoms, so if you enjoy my writing it’ll be there! I also made a discord, so if we’re mutuals on here feel free to say hi on there sometime if you want 😄 we can be Totally Normal about the characters and exchange unhinged AU ideas for old time’s sake. I can’t promise I’ll be the greatest at replying bc of the whole “trying to be more present in real life” thing, but I’ll do my best and I’d be stoked to hear how you’re doing! Here’s my link

Okay, I’m done rambling. I’ll probably leave my blog up for another day or two, I want all my mutuals to see this so they don’t think I blocked them or just up and disappeared or anything, but after that Rhonda’s retiring (I mean retirement isn’t really a thing anymore, but she’s an internet persona so we can pretend). Once again, thank you all for everything <3 <3 <3 if we don’t talk again take care, I’ll miss you and I genuinely hope for nothing but the best for you!!

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 0

Okay so I know the way I framed it makes it seem like I discovered this last second, but uhhh nah I found this months ago during I the making of the Music Video. So let’s tell a little story before I start getting weird with it.

So like. I couldn’t tell you what sent me down this path, but I was looking through a flashdrive with very old files on it, like, two or three whole laptops old. Actually probably only two. Anyway, on this old flashdrive I found a page of sketches from 2020. How do I know it was from 2020? It had villagers from my first island in Animal Crossing New Horizons on it. There was also a really rough looking sketch of what I can only assume was Mukuro and Sayaka. And in the bottom right corner, was this image. What might be the oldest piece of Junkan art I have, period. 

Okay that’s not technically accurate. I mentioned it offhandedly before but the first ever Junkan piece I drew was basically a joke. Because at the time the idea of Junkan being a healthy relationship was just a joke between me and my friends.

Four panels, and the joke is basically “Junko scraps her entire tragedy plan because Mikan’s hot and she wants to bang her.” I could easily find it, and I won’t act like I didn’t consider doing so to put it at the very bottom of this post purely for historical/archival purposes. But I kinda just get irrationally angry looking at it so I think I’m fine just, leaving it behind. And god knows it ain’t getting its own post.

So even if it’s not the true first junkan I ever drew, it’s the first one I drew where I gave a shit. That I can say for sure.

I wish I remembered drawing it though. 

Yeah i just, have no recollection of this. I don’t know why I drew it, what it is, anything. I have theories of course. My strongest one is that I read the first two chapters of Smile, and in my blacked out state of mine I drew this to get something out of my system? But that might not line up with the timeline. But I’ve no way of confirming what caused this to come into existence.

I have another theory unrelated to why it exists but for a certain aspect. I noticed as I was putting this together that Junko's got a Rabbit Clip in her hair (despite also having a bear clip but hey I wasn't exactly memorizing the designs by this point). That either means 2 things. I fucked up and didn't realize Junko doesn't wear the same outfit as disguised mukuro. Oooor, because I was so paranoid, and I'm pretty sure I sent this to at least a few friends at the time if not a slightly more public area (by my standards), I might have drawn it like that so worst case scenario I could write it off as Mukuro in Junko's outfit.

It kinda scared me at first when I looked at this? Like, this just exists and because of the time between now and when I allegedly drew this, there’s just this disconnect. Like, I don’t feel like I made this. I was so different back in 2020, I had less baggage, but also I kinda just felt isolated from a lot of people. I had like, 2 people I talked too pretty consistently, I had acquaintances but it wasn’t till later after my ex that I started actually talking to people more. 

Normally when I look at old art, it’s just that, looking at old art. But that’s because I can remember those pieces usually, this is something so old and obscure it couldn’t even become a memory, it’s uncanny. 

Now that I’ve had it sitting in my files that sense of unease is a lot less prominent. Now I can just look at it as old art like normal. 

I don’t really know what the point of this was? I guess I just wanted to provide one more treat, even if we jumped way down the scale of quality from Day 100. But hey it kind of being like, a relic makes up for it probably? I dunno. So this is the proper end of the project! It’s been nice! Even if I’ll see ya back for Junkan Week, and then way later The Month of Junkan, it definitely won’t feel the exact same. I’m gonna miss these daily posts, but I guess that’s why I’m gonna just have to make even more Junkan to keep it up! Though I don’t know if I’ll ramble as much as I did across these posts. Glad ya’ll liked em though! I always felt worried about being overboard with my commentary but it seems like that was just a bit more baseless paranoia on my part~

Look forward to the coming months! Because I sure am! 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[gremlins-hotel]

Why are you drawing Alfred as native that’s so racist considering his connection to England in the show

Hey, crackhead, would you care to pass what you’re currently smoking?

If you’re referencing the Horizon drawings posted last night specifically, not only is that a video game crossover post and by no means serious, it is fictional. I have drawn Alfred—yes, my Alfred, who is POC—in the garb of an entirely fictitious tribal society set in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future where these humans have made their own unique societies from the ashes of ours, but they hunt AI-driven machines and survive off the land otherwise. The Tenakth literally worship the wasting frames of fighter jets from the “Old Ones”. If you have an issue with the designs of Horizon’s factions, then that is something you can take to the devs, Guerrilla Games, if you are that concerned.

If you are referring to my Alfred in general, then I apologize that my headcanon and interpretation differ so highly from yours. I see both Matthew and Alfred as being either biracial or mixed ethnicity, which is why I draw them how I do. This, to me, creates a commentary on the effects of European colonialism on the New World. What their European caretakers did to mold them into the Eurocentric standards that they forcibly raised them in, so as to remove what people on the European stage at the time likely considered “savage” and “uncivilized”. To marvel at the success of the European powers. How they have either removed themselves from or have attempted to reconnect with their roots, if at all, because for some that is a choice that they make of their own accord. It also becomes interesting in the roles they have taken through history, whether optionally or by force, and how I see them acting in the modern day. I cannot understand what mental gymnastics it takes to see my interpretations of them and call it erasure, but I also realize I may speak from the wrong lens, and for that I then apologize again. I will try to be more sensitive in the future if this is the case.

Sure, I do not make much serious art nor posts, at least not like I used to. But that is how I choose to engage in this fandom as of lately. I am here for my own fun and not for your entertainment. If I make your experience lesser, then you do not have to engage with me. So please leave. If you do not agree, then please stymie your apparent urge to belittle someone else’s interpretation and enjoyment.

I will not engage you further and I hope your 2025 is wonderful. Thank you kindly. Have a great Wednesday.

[kiyomitakada]

FUCK i mixed up the order i thought misa’s parents’ killer was killed after the stalking but it’s the other way around. god damn it. okay just pretend it happened like this for my sake alright.

[last time on soulmate AU so you don’t have to reread: light met L at the student representative speech and Pointedly Did Not shake his hand, and also misa told her manager she was going to move to tokyo]

-

Light manages to avoid touching L for an impressive two days.

Even after tennis — when L extends his hand to him, in the traditional good-game handshake, Light pretends he doesn’t see it as he wipes his palms on his shorts and puts his racket back into the bag. L cocks his head for a second, then lowers his arm back to his side.

Will he think I’m Kira based on my standoffish behavior? No, Kira is dedicated to justice and cares about the people, there’s no way he’d be standoffish… But would Light Yagami be…? I’ll just act friendly to make up for it.

“I think we’re both thirsty, and there’s something I want to ask you, so — do you want to get a drink somewhere?” he asks, straightening and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Well, you beat me, so you can ask me anything you want,” L says. “But I ought to tell you something first.”

“What’s that?”

“I suspect you may in fact be Kira,” L says, as easy as anything. “If you still want to ask me questions after that, go ahead.”

Light swallows. Damn it. He can’t reasonably ask for proof that L is who he says he is, then, not until his suspicion is cleared. He got him again. How does L always keep one step in front of him?

“Haha,” he says, “me, Kira?”

“Well, when I say ‘suspect,’ I only mean by a factor of one percent,” L says. “Is your wrist alright, Yagami-kun?”

Light glances down. Oh. He lets go.

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “Just strained it a little.”

-

“Misa!” Akako’s tinny voice blares from the speakers. “Good news!”

“Huh?” Misa sits up, still holding her phone to her ear. “Akako-chan, it’s six in the morning…”

“I know! I’ll go to bed soon, just, listen, Misa! Remember the hexing circle I set up for you, for, uh, you-know-who?”

“The one with the voodoo doll I stabbed in the heart?”

“Yeah, that one! Check the detention center website, Misa! Do it right now!”

“Okay, okay,” Misa says, fumbling for her laptop. She has the website bookmarked by now. It loads slowly. There’s the usual banner of Kira victims running slowly on the top of the page—

Oh.

“Oh my god,” Misa whispers.

“He’s dead, Misa! He’s dead! You don’t have to go anymore!”

Kira… avenged her parents. Kira saved her.

A strangled sob escapes her throat.

“Misa? Are you okay?”

“This is the best day of my life,” Misa says.

“I know! Now you don’t even need to move to Tokyo—”

Misa hangs up. She wraps her hand around her neck and squeezes, just once.

She has to meet him. She has to say thank-you. Her life’s purpose has narrowed now; she’s one step closer to being free of it all.

There’s an odd thump.

Misa jolts, dropping the phone. She looks around. Everything’s in place, even the skull decoration that keeps falling off its hook. Huh. Wait, it sounded more like it came from the balcony…

She peers through the window, then frowns.

A notebook?

-

“Here, Ryuzaki, I got your t—”

“…”

“…”

“…Yagami-kun?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s nothing. My bad for bumping into you.”

“You did? I didn’t feel anything.”

“………Right. I didn’t feel anything, either.”

“So, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“That can wait until you’re positive I’m not Kira. You go ahead and start, Ryuga.”

-

“Do Shinigamis have soulmates?”

“Is that what you humans call the ones who share the marks on your skin?”

“What else would you call it?”

“Scars. And no, we don’t.”

“Oh. …That’s a romantic way to think about it. But it must be lonely for you.”

“I’ve never wanted one before.”

“I could draw one on you! I’m pretty good at drawing, you know.”

“Would that not be even lonelier? To have a mark without anyone to share it with?”

“Ahahaha! You’re smart, Rem.”

-

It is a good thing that Ryuga isn’t his soulmate. It would have been dangerous, not to mention societally inappropriate. Light is happy about this.

He wishes he could talk to Ryuk in public, if only to yell at him to stop laughing.

-

“If I got the Shinigami Eyes, could I tell who my soulmate was?”

“No. It wouldn’t be helpful for us Shinigami, so we never evolved the function.”

“Darn,” Misa pouts. “Oh well. I want them anyway.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yeah? Duh?”

Later in the afternoon, she’s very careful with her gloves as she slides the tapes into Akako’s envelopes. She can’t think of anything worse than someone who isn’t Kira getting their hands over her fingerprints.

-

L/Ryuga/Ryuzaki/whoever keeps brushing past him whenever Light goes to headquarters. Physically, that is. Leaving little sparks of contact in his wake.

It’s on purpose. It has to be, at this point.

What is his game? Does he think he can — seduce Kira, or something? Even if Kira was gay, surely L wouldn’t expect him to be attracted to the man hunting him down. Besides, physical proximity doesn’t fluster Light. He’s very used to it. His friends from high school slung their arms over his shoulders, elbowed him, high-fived him all the time.

“Here,” L says, dangling a piece of paper in front of him. “For you to compose your message to the fake Kira.”

He says fake with such conviction. “Thanks,” Light says. He doesn’t snatch it fast enough to stop L’s thumb from grazing his wrist.

Nothing happens. Nothing happened the past few hundred times, either.

“Did you need something else?” Light asks, when L doesn’t move.

“No,” L says. “I’ll leave you to it.”

-

Rem is very careful to never touch Misa. It’s honestly a little cute. She hovers over Misa like a shield as they walk down the streets of Aoyama, sharp-sharp-sharp claws turned away from Misa’s skin.

Misa has a phone wedged between her wig and her shoulder so it doesn’t look like she’s talking to air, but she still turns her face upward to grin at Rem when she says, “Are you excited for the show?”

“Not really,” Rem says. “Trying to find the other Kira is risky, Misa.”

“I know, you’ve only told me a thousand times!”

“I suppose I still don’t understand,” Rem sighs. “I gave you the notebook so you could protect yourself. I didn’t want Gelus’s sacrifice to be in vain.”

“I am protecting myself,” Misa says, tapping the wig. “Haven’t I been careful?”

“You’re putting your life in danger for someone you don’t even know.”

“Are you going to stop me, then?” Misa challenges. “Gonna kill me?”

“No!” Rem sounds legitimately horrified. Misa feels a little guilty for that, though she brightens when they walk past the Note Blue — the cafe should be close now. “I would never hurt you. But… if you hadn’t moved here, you could still be working—”

“I got a new manager, it’s fine—”

“—and you could fend yourself off from any more stalkers with the notebook. You could lead a happy life… away from all of this.”

“Oh, Rem,” Misa says, reaching up to boop the Shinigami’s nose. “You just don’t get it.”

“You’re so selfless,” Rem murmurs, drawing slowly, languidly away from Misa’s touch.

“I’m really not.” But she’s never gotten this point across to Rem no matter how she explains it. For one thing, if she had done what Rem suggests, she would probably have jumped out a window three months in. “Oh look, there’s the cafe!”

-

“Liiiiight!”

Light isn’t usually jumpy, but he flinches when Sayu shouts his name up the stairs. The TV broadcast is still going just as L had written: We can offer you clemency and police protection if you work with us to capture the First Kira…

He’s fucked. He’s so, so fucked. How did the fake Kira find him? Nothing happened in Aoyama! Nothing even happened in the Note Blue — Light just stood around with Matsuda for thirty painfully awkward minutes! He wasn’t old enough to get the margaritas!

I need a plan, he thinks, while he automatically rises to follow his sister’s voice. She’s probably doing her math homework again. He’s going to sell me out, he’s going to kill me, I need a plan—

“Your friend brought over your notebook!”

Light freezes in the doorway.

Notebook?

“Coming,” he says a second too late, hurrying down the stairs.

“I can’t believe you of all people forgot your notebook at school, onii-chan,” Sayu says, elbowing him a little as he goes by. “You’re losing your touch!”

Light manages to smile at her before he rounds the corner, too distracted to notice the way Sayu’s face slides into a frown. He yanks the door open.

………………

The fake Kira is a girl.

The fake Kira is… very blonde.

“N-nice to meet you,” says the only human alive who knows Light’s worst-best secret. “I’m Misa Amane.”

-

( @kiyomitakada )

proof of concept for the yagamane soulmate au (doesn't actually contain any yagamane yet) dont mind me

The only reason Sachiko isn’t running is because there are children swarming around her, laughing and giggling while she shoves her way through the hall. Where had the nurse’s office been on the map — she rounds a corner, tries to catch her bearings, then notices it: the sounds of someone crying.

Light.

Sachiko yanks the door open, heart pounding in her ribs. Light never cries — he used to as a toddler, of course, but after Sayu was born Sachiko can count on one hand the number of times he’s had a tantrum. Her baby is so mature. When the school had called and told her Light was having some sort of nervous breakdown, I think? she’d dropped everything without a second thought and taken a taxi here.

“There, there,” the nurse is saying, rubbing her son’s back. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t touch me,” Light hiccups, broken and high-pitched, and Sachiko would shout at the nurse to get away from him if not for the fact that Light’s little fingers have the nurse’s wrist in a vice grip as though afraid she'll go.

“Light,” Sachiko says, “I’m here, Light.” She drops her bag on the floor and drops to the floor, cradling his face in her hands; Light doesn’t resist. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“It doesn’t work,” Light sobs. His eyes are puffy with tears. From the nurse’s expression Sachiko surmises this has been going on for a while. “Mama — Mama, where’s Dad?”

Sachiko’s heart twists. “Your dad’s at work,” she says, brushing a soaked strand of hair out of Light’s face. The nurse, free of Light’s grasp, has moved a few paces away to give them space. Light collapses. His head flops on Sachiko’s shoulder; she has to shift her weight to hold him. “Honey, talk to me. What happened?”

“I t-tried everyone,” Light says, voice a little muffled in Sachiko’s sweater. “Even the o-older girls, and the boys, and — nothing happened.”

Well, that’s probably good, Sachiko manages to not say aloud. What business does Light have with the upper-grade kids? “Did you want something to happen?” she asks instead.

Light nods miserably. “Noriko-sensei s-says you’ll know when it does. You’ll see it.”

“When wh—?”

Sachiko stops. She thinks. Light’s hand has clamped around her wrist, like he did with the nurse’s, and for the first time she realizes. He’s covering her soulmate tattoo.

“Light,” she says slowly, “what did you do?”

She doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but Light bursts into a new round of tears against her shoulder. Sachiko, shocked, wraps her arms around him, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s okay, Light,” she tries. “It’s okay!”

Light keeps sobbing.

Sachiko looks up at the nurse. “What class was he in just now?”

“Arts and crafts,” the nurse says. “They were making bracelets.”

The red camellias are printed in a woven pattern encircling Sachiko’s wrist. They are silent.

“It was my idea!” Light gasps out between hiccups.

Sachiko takes a moment before she speaks.

“Light, were you trying to find your soulmate?”

“I-it doesn’t make any sense,” Light says. His free hand is clenched in a fist. “You — you and Dad said — you’ll always meet —”

Sachiko swallows her horror. This is her fault. This is all her fault.

“Nurse,” she says, “could you please leave us alone?”

The nurse nods and withdraws through the door.

Sachiko sighs. She knew she’d have to give her kids the talk one day, but Light is only six, and she’d thought she had more time…

“Light,” she says, “soulmates aren’t real.”

-

The soulmate phenomenon is one of the greatest medical mysteries of all time. Not for a lack of literature: the abundance of evidence regarding soulmatehood stretches into Mesopotamian records. But it makes no sense. There are seven billion people alive. The chance of finding your soulmate, even without considering age and gender and all that, is almost nothing.

But it does happen. Misa knows, because her parents are soulmates.

To be honest, she’d had her doubts before. They screamed at each other, sometimes threw things, kept alternating being kicked out to cheap motels. But they always made up, in the end. Made up… passionately. Misa learned to put on music to drown it out.

“What does it mean?” she asked curiously one day, pointing at the bloodred ruby embedded in the hollow of her mom’s throat.

“It means he’s strangling me,” her mom said. “What do you want for breakfast?”

After her dad had gotten back from the motel she’d asked him instead.

“Well, Misa,” he said. “Your mother’s the worst bitch alive, and I’m the only one who can handle her right.” He touched his thumb to the ruby printed on his throat, fondness tugging at his smile. “We’re the same person. That’s what it means.”

Misa hadn’t really gotten it, back then. Why would two of the same people fight? If she could make another Misa she’d do it in a heartbeat. That way Other-Misa could do the chores for her.

…On second thought, maybe she did get it.

But anyway. Somewhere, subconsciously, she’d always doubted. Misa was very up-to-date on the latest celebrity scandals, and she knew how easy matching tattoos were to fake.

But now she is staring through the crack in the closet. There is blood pooling on the floor, a dull red compared to the bright, shining light glowing from her dad’s throat. She stares and stares and stares until it fades to the white color of a scar.

“Miss,” says the officer on the phone, “Miss! Stay calm, we’re almost there—”

“Don’t fucking bother,” Misa says, and hangs up.

Her mom had stumbled like she’d been stabbed when her ruby went white. Snapped at Misa to hide and call the police, then picked up a kitchen knife. Misa isn’t sure when the burglar whoever-it-was dragged her dad’s dead body to rest in her line of view, but she knows his throat had still been glowing until it wasn’t.

She’ll never doubt soulmates are real again.

-

Light is seventeen years old and the world is falling apart.

Soulmates, he scoffs to himself, whenever the topic comes up in discussion. Akasato is rambling about his girlfriend again and how they’re fated to be. Light isn’t jealous. Getting attached is the worst thing that could ever happen to someone.

“I swear, man, the way you talk about her I think your tattoo should’ve been a ball and chain,” Yamamoto says.

Akasato groans. “She’s not that bad! She sent me chocolates!”

“The same ones she gave that basketball guy?” Light laughs.

“Don’t remind me, I’ll kill him, I swear,” Akasato says. Grinning. Murder is so out of the realm of possibility it’s funny. “And anyway, she’s coming over for Christmas.”

“Oh, whoa,” Yamamoto says. “Happy for you.”

“Yeah, congrats,” Light adds.

His mom wasn’t lying, exactly. The chances of stumbling across your soulmate are effectively zero. There’s studies suggesting that it’s higher than random chance, that most found soulmates live in or around the same timezone as you, but he’s pretty sure they’re cherry-picking.

It’s much easier to fall in love with someone and make them your soulmate instead, his mom had explained to him softly, rubbing her wrist. Much easier to get a tattoo with them, rather than hoping it’ll show up on your skin at first touch. Maybe even more romantic. Your dad and I love each other, Light. Who cares if he’s not perfect? He’s good enough for me.

The last time a teacher called Light’s work good enough was in fifth grade. Light had sabotaged his swivel chair afterwards and he’d had to take a week off.

“Thanks, guys,” Akasato says. “Hey, Yamamoto, who’re you having over for Christmas?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.”

“Sending cards to girls again?” Light puts in.

Yamamoto snorts. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be like Aka-chan here—”

“You take that back—”

“—and find their soulmate in middle school,” Yamamoto finishes. “I’m going to keep trying.”

“You know you actually have to make contact with them for it to happen, right?” Light asks.

“Obviously!”

“Yagami’s right,” Akasato says, pleased he’s not the topic of conversation anymore. “Are you sure you’ve got enough game for that, Yamamoto? I think you’d faint if a girl held your hand.”

“I’ve had girlfriends!”

“Sure, sure,” Light says. They all laugh. It’s nice having friends. “Oh, here’s my stop.”

“See ya!”

Light enters the house. Gives his mother his test grades, lets her coo, then slips into his room and heads for the drawer.

There it is. Untouched.

Who needs soulmates, he thinks, when you can be the god of the new world?

-

Misa sits cross-legged on a repurposed picnic blanket spread awkwardly over the wet dirt. She sticks one rose each into the soil in front of her parents’ graves.

“Hey, mom, dad,” she starts. “I’m not gonna come back for a while.”

The graves are silent. They have been for almost a year now. One rose almost falls over; Misa hurriedly reaches to fix it.

“I’m going to move to Kanto,” she declares. “I’ll catch him no matter what I do. I know which jail he’s in already. The prosecutor told me.”

She sticks the rose back in with some violence. It droops. All the other ones she’s brought have wilted — obviously, because their stems were cut ages ago. She can’t plant seeds, though. That would require someone watering them.

“I’ll ask for a visit and get him to attack me,” she continues. “And then I’ll stab him, and I’ll scream, and I’ll tell everyone it was self-defense. What do you think, Mom?” She’d always been better at lying than Dad.

“Good idea? I knew it.” Misa hops up, brushing the dirt off the picnic blanket. “I’ll start getting ready soon. Next month, I think. Definitely.”

-

“Ah,” says the voice from the television screen. “I had to test this, just in case, but I-I never thought it would actually happen… Kira. It seems you can kill people without having to be there in person.”

Light freezes.

He was wrong, he realizes, for possibly the first time in his life. He was wrong. Someone’s out there.

“Try to kill me,” L’s saying, and Light can hear the smirk even through unknowable kilometers of distance. “What’s wrong? Go ahead! Can’t you do it?”

“You bastard,” Light hisses through his teeth, feeling so alive he could cry.

He shouts I am justice at the same time L does, grinning, half-manic, and doesn’t even realize he’s clutching his wrist.

-

“Please,” says the stalker in the shadows, “please, Misa-Misa, I just need to — I just need to touch —”

Misa backs away. This is a dead end alleyway. She should never have gone to the convenience store at night. Her and her empty refrigerator and her stupid hungry stomach. There’s a fire escape, maybe if she jumps—

“Can you even fucking hear me?” The stalker shouts.

Misa nods, automatic, and wonders if she should scream. No one’s around at this time of day. Who would even miss her?

“Just one touch,” the stalker says. “Come on!”

And then in a flash he’s running for her. Misa turns and sprints and leaps for the fire escape — and misses it. She collapses in a heap.

Her stalker has his hand on her cheek. She jerks away. Of all the fucking days she could have forgotten her pepper spray.

“It’s not you,” the stalker says, abruptly sounding like he’s about to cry. “How could it not be you?”

“Get away from me,” Misa says, stumbling to her feet.

“All the interviews I watched,” the stalker says. “I have all your magazines, Misa-Misa!”

“I haven’t been in that many issues,” says whoever is operating Misa’s vocal cords as she calculates her chances. She has to catch him by surprise, it’s the only opportunity she’s got, shove him and run—

Oh. He has a knife. Never mind that, then.

“At least we can die together,” the stalker says — or — tries to say. Misa watches in shock as his mouth clicks shut and he… turns away?

And then he clutches his chest, and he falls.

Misa stays there, sucks in a few more breaths of cold air, then runs.

-

@kiyomitakada (so i can reblog)

[phoenixtherobot]

Rip to the first Gen of Ravagers, you will be missed but never forgotten

[puppppppppy]

act 4 :(

@chipper-smol and i came to a realization

[moeblob]

So does he, Gallagher.

[bumfuzzled-bee]

Pat pat.

[sipsoftea]

Since I did one for my first farmer, I obviously had to do one for my second. We don’t play favorites in this house (except we totally do, I love her sm)

Her name is Jeannie, and she’s a half vampire on her dad’s side. Other than her appearance, vampirism hasn’t really affected her life that much, she just has to deal with a mild garlic allergy and getting sunburnt real easy. She also ages a tad slower than a normal person, but she does still age

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[i-really-like-phrogs]

Movie Lydia Re-Draw from Last Year

Here’s an Old Vs. New comparison!