#let her own her grey palette!!!

[seagullcharmer]

little 20 minute doodle bc i like them <3

[fiendishfables]

Camillo Carmine x Reader

General Headcanons (SFW + NSFW)

warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, mentions of biting, cursing

words: 1.4k+

a/n: this was a highly requested work, so enjoy and have fun with the little bonus at the end! This is not really an x reader, but it could be read as such, so oh well. Let me know your thoughts on Camillo's character, and/or if you'd like to see more of him in the near future &lt;3

SFW

✧˚ · . Camillo is basically like a big cat

✧˚ · . Tall motherfucker, standing at approximately 8,2

✧˚ · . The guy is very calm, silent, and sneaky all at once. If anything, he would make an excellent spy and has been offered positions before in that line of work

✧˚ · . Very independent; wont work for anybody but himself and is beyond stubborn

✧˚ · . He is a hardass, but underneath his tough, strong front, is an individual who is a giant kid at heart, who is so deeply loyal and giving that it hurts, and who takes all relationships he makes very seriously, as in he would gladly put his life on the line for someone he cares about; questioning his loyalty is the worst you can do

✧˚ · . Favorite colors consist of greys and purples of any shade; it always struck him as having more of an elegant, dancer sort of vibe, and the display of the colors usually help him to relax in times of distress. His whole bedroom is centered around that color palette and it hasn't been changed since he and Camilla have inherited the mansion

✧˚ · . On the subject of Camilla, he likes to annoy her. His real personality can start to be seen the more time he spends around his sister; they behave just like any normal pair of siblings would. The two have had a love hate relationship growing up and it still is that way, even if just a bit more watered down now. The two like to joke and hang around together every now and again when they aren't off busy with their own lives

✧˚ · . What a Carmine lacks in affection, they make up for in loyalty

✧˚ · . If you wanna talk about dancers, he is one. He loves dancing in his spare time and even uses the Carmine manor as a spot to host dancing lessons amongst sinners willing/wanting to learn

✧˚ · . His silvery pointed dancing shoes are like his literal children, and he always goes into a slight panic whenever he can't find them. They provide him with that sense of security, as dancing is a huge part of his life and he could never stand to be without it; they were also a gift from his mother

✧˚ · . Never likes to ask anyone for anything, especially not help. He likes to cover up his needs with smart-ass comments and handsome smirks that most can't stay mad at for too long

✧˚ · . Has been told he has a very punchable face

✧˚ · . His fangs make for a great, sarcastic smile; his face either consists of a frown or that signature smirk. He uses his fangs for a lot of things, including biting people when they get on his nerves

✧˚ · . Can totally play the piano; claims its a very calming and dignified instrument. He doesn't play it often but when he does, its a gift to anyone around to hear

✧˚ · . On the asexuality spectrum, identifying as demisexual and biromantic. It takes him a little longer than the average sinner to develop feelings for someone, let alone sexual feelings

✧˚ · . As stated before, his relationships are one of the most important things in his life and he handles them with great seriousness

✧˚ · . The epitome of that one secretive, mysterious, tall and mysterious stranger everyone wants to be friends with, but are too afraid to approach directly to ask

NSFW

✧˚ · . It's very difficult to get anything verbal out of this man when he's in the process of being intimate with someone, even if they're his s/o

✧˚ · . The most you can expect is some pleasured grunts, maybe some low groans if you're lucky

✧˚ · . It's not that he isn't enjoying whatever is being brought upon him, he is just one to closely guard his feelings and never really express them too vividly; yes that ends up following him into his sex life

✧˚ · . 9 times out of 10 he prefers to give pleasure rather than receive it

✧˚ · . Loves to degrade and use pet names with his partner; sweetheart, doll, slut, and whore tending to be some of his personal favorites to use

✧˚ · . Big on consent. If you are ever not comfortable with anything he proposes or is in the middle of doing to you, then he will stop instantly and get you anything you need. He may seem like an asshat sometimes, but he is a decent person (if that comes as such a shock)

✧˚ · . Into some form of pet play/leashes, no negotiation

✧˚ · . He always likes to be in control and rarely ever is the submissive one during intimacy.

✧˚ · . Will speak Spanish in bed, usually doing so in order to fluster his partner; it often gets him a positive response

✧˚ · . Being blindfolded is a big kink of his. As a dancer, he is used to having to be accustomed to other senses, so when they are heightened after his sight is temporarily taken from him, he will have a ball of a time

✧˚ · . One of his top favorite things is watching his partner ride him. Just the sight of his cock being sheathed inside your body over and over again as he watches you get off on his lap all on your own

✧˚ · . Dirty dancing is something he is much too fond of. The act of getting all worked up from dancing with one another, teasing each other all the while, then getting to fuck his partner into the ground, whispering praises to them about how well they danced with/for him; he is all too eager to teach you more of what he knows about the dancing world

✧˚ · . The little shit is one of the biggest teases you will ever meet. He honestly has a sex drive that's more so on the lower side and does not need sex as often as most sinners seem to

✧˚ · . But, be prepared when he does have the energy to pleasure you, for he is astounding at it.

✧˚ · . Kissing, biting, steamy makeout sessions, eating you out, fucking you raw; he can do it all and excel in the process

✧˚ · . His fangs usually come into play a lot during sex; a huge fan of biting and leaving marks on his partner to let others know that they have already been claimed

✧˚ · . Camillo is one of those demons you'd be lucky to have sex with. It's not even an egotistical thing, he's just not very sex-coded when it comes to relationships or really anything in general. He believes in a true connection with someone first before engaging in any sorts of those activities, hence his sexuality

✧˚ · . Sex with Camillo is always very serious and passionate. He never allows himself to be as vulnerable as he would be right now, so better to cherish it whilst it lasts

✧˚ · . It's almost like he picks one mate for life, then he's done looking, like some species do

✧˚ · . Thinking of it, when he really gets into action and the rare times he wants to have sex, he fucks like a wild animal. He does have his vanilla, gentle side where he will care for you nothing short of a husband, but if he has the chance or some pent up anger to release, you better prepare to go for multiple rounds of very rough sex

✧˚ · . To top things off, he does have a praise kink. It may be hard to pick up on at first, but if you praise him, let him know how good he's making you feel, he's a mess (at least internally). Nothing really gets him going more than knowing he is fulfilling his job as a partner; making you feel good in every aspect that he can. It gives him purpose and that's really all he needs when he's with his s/o

BONUS~

✧˚ · . One of Camillo's wildest fantasies is to have his lover cockwarming him whilst he plays a song for them on his piano. He can imagine struggling to not fumble over the keys, not let his fingers slip, as he feels you clench around him, biting his lip or your shoulder hard enough to draw blood in order to stifle any noises that may find their way past his lips. That vulnerability is something he knowingly holds sacred; you could potentially be the one to coax it out of him.

[angelofthenight]

Kenchanted Pt.1

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.

Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police

( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )

Word Count: 3.5k

Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality

( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.

And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )

Table of Contents

(R/n) = Roommates name

“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”

You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.

The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.

“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.

Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.

He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”

That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.

You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.

The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”

He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”

The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.

“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.

You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.

The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.

You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”

You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”

He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”

You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.

“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”

You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”

Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”

Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”

‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.

“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.

You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.

“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.

“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.

“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”

You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”

(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”

You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.

“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.

After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”

Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.

~

Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”

As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.

It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.

“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.

He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”

A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.

(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.

“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.

You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”

Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.

“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.

You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.

~

(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”

(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.

“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.

“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.

(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.

“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.

Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.

You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.

You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.

You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.

‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.

You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.

You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.

Not your Ken doll though.

You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.

[nymph-ette111]

hiiiiiii!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) could you do a simon cof x sweet, feminine reader headcannons? made my own headcannons to share with you because ily and i love this prompt(⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

♡ i imagine reader and simon would go out, hes wearing the same crusty ass grey hoodie while shes dressed up all cute and pretty >.<

♡ he reeks of nicotine while she smells like neapolitan marshmallows<3 hes obsessed with her scent. he literally loves using her bodycare/haircare products over his 3 in 1 men shampoo (if he even showers that is) because he'd smell more like her.

♡ she shares absolutely everything of her purchases. she'd do little mini hauls to Simon, showcasing her new pink ballerina flats, sugarbunnies plushie she had to fight a war for in mercari, too faced chocolate bar palette, cute japanese stationary, and a lot of new clothes. Simon loves it. he loves seeing her happy. (may even buy her things he thinks she would love if he didn't have a smoking addiction<3)

♡ she doesnt only share that though she also loves talking his ears off about anything and everything<3 at first he was annoyed with her constant talking but when he spoke of it, she stopped talking so much and he got guilty and missed her overtalking. he tried to bring her spark back in talking and it worked

♡ shes compassionate and kind, understanding his struggles (but not condoning his actions) and helping him to get better. (he really wants to be saved by her but feels that he just cannot.)

♡ he really doesn't get why she's with him. Hes depressed, miserable, and difficult to be with. His low self esteem sometimes gets the best of him and he starts believing that he's not worthy of her, often leaving her on read, missing her calls, and ignoring her. (im sensing attachment issues) reader clutches w communication though :3

♡ they'd explore abandoned buildings. Simon's there to smoke blunts while readers there to get awesome fit pictures<3 they would go a long way travelling and reader the most practical girl you know has her feet hurt from walking on platforms. they either take lots of breaks or Simon just carries her on his back (unlikely)

♡ talk about taking fit pictures, Simon's technically her photographer. She has a blog where she posts fashion and besides the mirror pics, Simon's always the one taking the pictures. He's quite good at it too.

some of these headcannons probably won't work in his time but who cares(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ) hope this prompt isnt that hard to write for..(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)you can always ignore if you want!! thankkkkkk you x3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxoxoxox

WARNINGS; MENTIONS OF SMOKING, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION

AUTHOR'S NOTE; WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU!!! probably inaccurate for both the character and the timeline... listen, I don't know what swedish people were up to in 2012 leave me alone. also not very happy with this, still trying to figure out how to write Simon :3

-he looks comically out of place in your room. just imagine a pastel pink room filled to the brim with cute plushies, shelves full of little trinkets and books, floral bedding and lace curtains. a wall full of movie posters, magazine pages, and little polaroids of your most treasured moments, and then there's a depressed smoke addict.

-you know those videos where it's a boyfriend sleeping in their girlfriend's girly room with a bunch of plushies on top of him? yeah, basically same situation.

-his sleep schedule is fucked up. either he pulls an all nighter or is passed out till 3 pm. when it's one of those times where Simon feels tired, you just let him sleep in your bed whilst you do whatever.

-it's also a great opportunity to gather the perfect pictures for black mailing.

-he just looks so stupid in your room I love him.

-doesn't care about your plushies but will learn to treat them nicely after you yelled at him for 15 minutes straight about how it's unacceptable to throw rilakkuma off the bed just so he could sit down.

-punches the plush when you aren't looking.

-he definitely gives you that pink hello kitty hoodie to wear. or he wears it instead so you two could match. that's probably your idea and he obliges because it's something you love and enjoy.

-really like the idea of him being your personal photographer. he's always the first to leave a like on whatever you post, especially if it's he who took the picture.

-doesn't know anyone besides you. his followings on social media just contain a bunch of his favorite bands and your account.

-a bit sad but I can see him borrowing your money (with permission) to buy cigarettes if his mother refuses to give him any. he wants to buy you stuff you might like but he's too busy spending it on his addiction :(

-he instead draws you your favorite characters so you can put it on the wall alongside your other pictures.

-has never been in the vicinity of a woman without being an awkward shit. moral of the story he doesn't know anything about girls. his knowledge of things is pretty vague, so please don't be surprised if you see him just poking around your vanity and asking a million different questions on what certain products do and why.

-his mother is very happy her son finally found a girlfriend. she approves of you and thinks you're an absolute sweetheart. always asks Simon when you will visit them again.

-you two definitely earn a few stares in public because how did such a sweet and pretty girl end up with a guy like Simon.

-it pisses him off endlessly but can't help his thoughts and feelings. thinks he doesn't deserve you or any of the kind shit you do for him.

-like nonnie said, he probably isn't the greatest boyfriend... there are times where he cancels your hang-outs without further explanation or simply doesn't acknowledge any of your calls and messages. he feels pretty shitty after it and apologizes for his behavior. you forgive him even though you both know he'll do it again.

-he is low-key obsessed with your smell, he smothers anything you have in the shower all over his body without caring what it's for, just simply reads the labels and puts it on... with big amounts. this man is making you go bankrupt. you could literally see the outline of his fingers left in the product..

-his camera is full of pictures of you, he likes looking at them when he feels down. which is pretty often.

-shows you all of his favorite places in Stockholm or even Kirkvile (where does this man live I don't get it) ones that aren't usually full of people, just overly adventurous teenagers from time to time. something tells you that you two have trespassed into private property multiple times but Simon doesn't want to answer that question clearly.

-ugh imagine clipping cute little hair clips into Simon's hair and he just lets you do whatever you want because if you're happy then he is happy and he wants to see you smile :(

-in exchange, you let him do corpse paint on your face.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, and so for the request, in TFA Silver Aid …

Do you remember in the Nutshell summaries, where Silver Aid get turn into a Human or genderswap version? Can we see where Silver aid got turn into?

Lets do the human version!

Hope you enjoy!

Silver Aid turns into a human

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian (techno organic) reader

TFA

The incident happened while Silver was looking after Sari.

Bumblebee had been called on a mission and someone needed to look after Sari.

The techno organic was ‘grounded’ after a little stunt she pulled on a couple missions ago.

Optimus hated to call in Silver, but it was either her or leave Sari to her own devices.

Quite frankly, he’d rather face Megatron than deal with any disaster the child would cause on their return.

Silver was glad to help her friend.

She was a little bit late though.

Blame it on Megatron and the others not wanting her to leave the base.

After she came it was a smooth afternoon… until the sudden ray beam started flying around.

Sari flying around with her jet pack trying to avoid the beam. Silver seeing the beam head straight towards her: “SARI!” Quickly, Silver Aid grabs Sari to her chassis and feels the sting of the beam on her back. POOF! Two figures fall to the floor. Sari groans standing up, quickly taking notice of the missing spider bot. Sari: “Silver? Silver Aid! Where are you?” Another groan beside her appears as the smoke clears. It was a woman in her underwear swatting the smoke from her face. Underwear with a familiar color palette. Sari goes closer to the woman as she opens her eyes. Sari: “Silver?” Silver Aid: “Sari? Are you okay?” Silver goes to stand up but notices her new hands and freezes. Her hands and eyes quickly travel her arms and legs before looking at the reflection of a puddle to see her VERY human face. Sari carefully coming closer to her: “Silver, everything is going to be—” Silver Aid: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Just in time for the rest of the bots to show up. Optimus is the first to transform and looks around. Optimus: “Sari where is Silver Aid? We just heard her screaming!” Silver looking up at the bots. Silver: “Oppy?” Optimus freezes and looks down at the human woman. Silver tries to stand but has trouble with her legs. Sari is by her side helping her walk to the Prime’s lowered servo. Sari: “We don’t know what happened. There was this weird ray beam thing, and she got hit and POOF!” Silver stumbles onto his servo clutching hie digits like a lifeline. Silver: “Prime?” Optimus: “yeah?” Silver squeezing his digit and looking at him with slight teary eyes: “Don’t let me go.” Optimus pulls her closer to his chassis. Optimus: “I got you… I got you…”

It was later found out that the Professor had been working on his latest invention and the beam had flown out of his lab.

Sari provides Silver with some clothing after coaxing her to let go of Optimus.

It took long with Sari making her try on different outfits she had.

Eventually Silver had on some blue jeans and grey shirt.

The new human still had trouble walking around and mainly stays with Optimus.

Not that she doesn’t trust the other members of the team… but it was more out of a preference thing.

Refused to have anyone else carry her.

Silver on Optimus’s shoulder: “Optimus, what did you tell Megatron once… this happened?” Optimus: “Umm…” Silver raises and eyebrow: “You did tell him about this right? Or at least told him that I wasn’t going to be coming back to the base for a while.” Optimus: “…” Silver looks at the rest of the team: “Did ANYONE tell any of the cons I wasn’t going to be back!?” Prowl: “To be fair, we were more concern with your predicament.” Silver ran her hands throw her hair stressed: “By the Allspark… Someone get me on the line with him now!” Bumblebee: “I’m sure he’s fine. You haven’t been gone the whole day.” Silver looks at him with a deadpan glare: “I left for two days on a steel run and when I came back, he looked like he was going to tear someone’s helm off and shove it back in its frame. So, if you’d be so kind as TO CALL HIM that would be greatly appreciated.” Meanwhile at the Decepticon Base… Megatron drumming his digits on the table trying to mask his anxiousness. Blitzwing: “Shy should have called by now.” Lugnut: “Maybe she just forgot. I forget to report sometimes when I am with Strika.” Starscream: “Yes, but she isn’t with her Conjunx is she.” BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP! Megatron quickly answers the com line: “Prime.” Silver over Optimus com line: “Hey Megatron…” Megatron’s posture slightly relaxes: “Silver—I mean Silver Aid; you best have an explanation to why you have not comm in back. And why are you using Prime’s line?” Silver Aid: “Well… about that… because of some… unfortunate circumstances that have recently happened, I won’t be coming back to base until everything is sorted out.” Megatron raises an optic: “And circumstance is?” Silver Aid: “Some having to do with my… physical appearance. But don’t worry! I will be back to the base as soon as it is fixed.” Megatron: “… I want to see.” Silver Aid: “What?” Megatron: “At the park in a couple of nanoclicks.” Silver Aid: “Wait—” The line ended. Silver Aid: “…great…”

Both Autobots and Decepticons arrive at the park at the same time.

Megatron is looking around for any sign of his Conjunx but doesn’t see her.

The only new thing was the new human female in Prime’s servo—Oh…Oh…

Optimus walks forward to the war lord with the human in his servos.

The woman waves shyly at him.

He knows it’s her.

Megatron tries to hold her, but almost quickly let’s go when he hears her yelp in surprise.

The rest of the Cons swarm around to get a better look at their medic’s smaller stature.

It is agreed for Silver Aid’s safety and health that she stay with the Autobots until she returned to normal.

It takes a while before the effects of the ray beam to wear off.

POOF! Silver Aid turns back to normal. Silver Aid with a bright smile looks at her servos: “I’m back! Guys! I’m—oh…” Optimus is groaning from the sudden weight on the back of his helm. Later… Silver Aid swinging into the Decepticon base. Silver Aid: “Hello? Any bot here? I’m back—ACK!”

Silver Aid gets ambushed by a giant bear hug from Lugnut.

When he lets go, Blitzwing’s faces welcome her back with a side hug.

Starscream gives her a pat on the back while mumbling about never pulling a stunt like that again.

Megatron just wordlessly throws Silver Aid over his shoulder and heads straight to their room.

The war lord is quite attentive to Silver for the next few days and private affection increases to a tenfold under the simple statement of ‘catching up on time loss’.

[zahri-melitor]

Spoilery thoughts on Batman #148:

This story was pretty clearly drafted to be a 5 or 6 issue story, probably originally resolving in #150 as bringing the family together is a nice round number issue sort of event. My best guess is that the Nakano and Vandal Savage plot and some more of the back ups around the captured villains got cut to the bone to speed things up after Zdarsky was told #150 was needed for Absolute Power (and #149 is apparently doing the epilogue to set up for whatever goes on in Absolute Power). There’s a couple of really clear “and we just skipped 3-4 pages” sort of moments in the shape of the script for this issue (and in hindsight in #147) that if it had been allowed even an extra issue the story would have more space to breathe.

And despite that revised pagecount, Zdarsky still manages to deliver the moments he wanted to bring for Dick, Babs, Jason, Tim and Damian, so I’m impressed by that. Cass unfortunately did get relegated, but if I’m being objective about this, DC’s still waffling over whether Current Cass is adopted or not, and Zdarsky was already juggling a big list of characters (plus part of the point of having a big cast is that you don’t HAVE to focus on all the cast).

I did like how much space Zdarsky still found for the Damian-Tim-ZEA Robin plot. That did NOT resolve the way I predicted from the costume’s first hints in the background (I was totally on team ‘Tim puts on the costume sacrificially to try to get through to ZEA Bruce thinking he can handle this, and gets brainwashed’), but it was satisfying in terms of acknowledging Tim and Damian’s relationship (it was giving me Gates of Gotham vibes, which are the best Tim and Damian working together vibes), there was more discussion of the different elements both bring to the role of Robin and what’s good and bad about each, and how ZEA Robin doesn’t understand what makes you Robin. It was a pretty balanced fight scene. Tim gives Damian an assist, Damian gives Tim an assist, Tim’s a bit too overconfident and pays for it, Damian was a bit petulant about having to sit part of it out (though being tied up is like, PURE Robin aesthetic).

As far as the costumes go for the Robins Fight scene: honestly, switching Tim into a darker costume that was black and green with red accents complemented Damian’s black and grey with red accents aesthetic well, and contrasted with the ZEA costume being so bright red and yellow (which is playing off the original red, yellow and purple ZEA suit). Jimenez also gave everyone a different mask shape, which also helped distinguish everyone when you have three ‘Robins’ appearing in the same fight. All the Bat redesigns at the moment are leaning into darker palettes, and I appreciated the choice to go back to green as Tim’s ‘colour’, rather than red, given: his pre-2006 history used to use green quite often as his distinguishing colour; he can share it with Babs (team green for the computer nerds!); it’s not a colour they’ve particularly focused on for Damian for ages; and it gets him out from under having to share colour palette with Jason, given Jason can’t keep a costume consistent for a year.

It’s fine. It’s not my favourite Robin design I’ve ever seen, it’s not the worst Robin design I’ve ever seen (even on Tim), and it made the fight a lot clearer to follow.

I really liked that Barbara’s contribution was Oracle based and it made her inclusion make sense. I cackled at Dick getting to punch Daniel Captio (I was having serious echoes of the Cave argument in Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive, and from Tim’s delighted face for that punch I think Tim was too).

In terms of Jason, having him volunteer to take on the Lazarus-linked part of the plot and tell Bruce “let us have control of our own decisions” IS the resolution and apology for the mind alteration plot (which I am still pretty sure was a Rosenberg driven decision, not a Zdarsky one, in Gotham War), and look. That’s the sort of resolution you get a lot for comics plots. They’re cool. It was never going to end up as a big song and dance.

I like that the resolution pulled everything back to Failsafe. Good way to round off 2 years on the title. Nice extended story arc, with shout outs all the way back to #125.

I did have to laugh at Nakano calling Cass, Steph and Duke ‘child soldiers’ though. Those are all actual adults, sir! Even Duke’s supposed to be 18+ now.

[the-path-to-redemption]

I know you hate canon Yang but do you think she and Mercury could at one point bond over having been messed up by a parent that made them base their worth on their strength?

....Long Post Ahead

Anon let me tell you-

I fucking hate that people now believe Adam was Yang's foil because the writers fucked up. No, he's not. He's Blake's foil; they share the same story, and the same past, and everything about them was supposed to be linked together down to their fairy tale allusion. Whatever came out of making him and Yang rivals are bullshit ass-pulls.

Mercury was designed to be her foil; he has a grey monotone color palette and a very low-key, cyberpunk-esque fashion while Yang is in a warm-tone, bright-colored palette with a steampunk style that sets her out from others visually. She's mostly a boxer, while he's focused on kick-based combat. Mercury doesn't have a semblance and has to rely on his own skills, and Yang relies TOO much on hers and it becomes her double-edged sword.

Mercury has a terrible father and no mother, suffering alone in a home that took everything from him and forced him to kill. Yang might not have Raven, but she has a loving family who cares for her even when they're not perfect. Everything about them was set up to be a narrative of two people who could very easily become the other had the circumstances of their lives been different, but their actions had also led them to this point and they have to take control of their future now that a new chapter begin.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, should have changed this aside from the fact that MK and CRWBY are fucking stupid enough to make Yang wedge into a narrative that she DOES not give a fuck about even though she supposedly cares about Blake and her causes, but never fucking does anything for the Faunus or even talk to Blake about her goals for them. It muddles their characters (Yang, Blake, Mercury, and Adam) because now the writers have to make dumbass fucking reasons for Yang and Adam to fight each other when Mercury and Blake are right fucking there.

I made a post about this subject before here and the same sentiment still stands. I fucking hate it here.

[awingedinsect]

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 11

Full series

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: TRAUMA. Processing grief. De@th and loss of loved ones. Descriptions of g0re. This one was a bit difficult to write but it’s an important addition, and something you’ve all been waiting for MIGHT just be at the end! enjoy :)

He remembers that moment.

The way the beach got suddenly so quiet.

How when he looked up from his notebook, he couldn’t see a little head playing in the shallow waves.

He remembers how he ran. The way the wet sand churned under his feet as he called her name, running down the shore.

How the dark waves felt enveloping him, fighting his body off, like it wasn’t welcome in the water; trying to break his bones as his voice got hoarse from screaming.

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe it…

“I don’t believe it.” II Whispers, eyes dilated and hollow. He sits on the end of his bed, not even looking up at Vessel in the doorway.

“I don’t believe it…”

“II? Can I come in?” Vessel speaks softly, though his lanky frame is a bit stiff. His hands fidget in the front of his hoodie.

II’s wet eyes flick up at him, red lips parting in a tragic shape. He nods.

Vessel steps quietly inside, closing the door till it’s open just a sliver like he found it.

II��s room is plain. Mainly a grey palette, with a few posters and cassette tapes littered around. Clothes are piled up on top of the dresser and the bed is unmade.

He’s been locked up in here, since last night when he saw the news. III and IV had both initially followed him in, trying to console him behind the closed door as Vessel stood outside, helpless.

II was crying.

And he knew he wasn’t supposed to help.

Now, Vessel settles down on the bed next to him, not saying a word. His head is bowed, eyes staring into space for a few beats before nervously flitting over at the drummer.

“…How you holding up?”

II sniffles, wiping his face. He sighs. “I dunno, Vess. I’m fine. I just can’t…” he looks up at him now, those big red eyes almost pleading. “Did you see what he looked like?”

Vessel did.

How could he forget? The image is now burned into his head as permanently as the symbol behind his bangs. Matt’s body, stretched out on the rotten floor of the house. The candles surrounding him, melted into puddles that seeped up around his blue skin and mingled with the blood dripping from the marks on his chest.

Patterns that lace Vessel’s own body.

Venus is dead.

He had to tell himself that over and over again, all night and all morning. She’s dead.

…isn’t she?

Vessel’s hand slips out of his pocket, tentatively moving to II’s knee.

“I know what you’re going through.” He says. “…grief is the toughest pill there is, I think. I wish I could fix it, II.” There’s a desperation in his voice, a little crack that he tries to hide. “…You don’t deserve it.”

“Who could’ve done that to him?” II’s voice is choked again. “Fuckin carved him like an animal.” His eyes meet Vessel’s, and go hollow. “…Did someone try to do that to you?”

Vessel swallows.

He still hasn’t told any of them the story. About Venus, about what happened that night. But he knows they’ve all been thinking about it since the photograph flashed on the tv.

It’s about time he told someone.

“…I dunno if it’s connected.” His voice is low, threatening to get bumpy. “But… you remember that girl who walked up at the bar? At the Blacklit room?”

II nods, confusion in his face. But he lets him continue. “Well, she texted me, about a week after the accident. Had me meet her at the sight. And she… well, she drugged me.”

II’s eyes go wide. “You telling me she did all that to you?” II looks horrified.

“…when I woke up she and her friends had me tied down.” Vessel’s lashes flutter, blinking away a bit of dew that’s gathering. “And then she… got on me. Told me I was some kind of offering, then got her knife out.”

II is silent. They both are for some time.

“…I think she’s dead, II.” Vessel says. “I dunno all that happened, I blacked out again. But she was gone and I… could just feel it.”

He wasn’t about to launch into the whole story. To be honest, he’d kick him out of the house too if he brought up Sleep. Though maybe one day they’ll be able to understand.

“I could be wrong.” He says. “She might still be out there. But no matter what, we’ll get justice for Matthew… I promise.”

Vessel almost thinks he hears the floorboards creak outside the door. He turns his head only for a moment, but II stays still. The drummer bows his head.

“…I loved him, I think.” He whispers. So quiet that it’s barely heard. So soft that Vessel knows it’s only halfway meant to be said; a confession for himself.

“Did you?”

“…maybe. I don’t know. I’ve known him since we were kids, on and off… never was able to shake the feeling that maybe I wanted him more than I had him. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s fuckin dead.”

The words drill straight into Vessel’s chest like a knife. Oh, II…

The water choked him, salt burning his eyes as he swam out into the deep. He couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear anything but the water. It dragged on his clothes, trying to swallow him just so it could spit him out.

Vessel’s eyes glaze over, wondering off to a different plane. “…I had a sister, once.”

II looks up at him, blinking. “…not anymore?”

The words come out of his mouth like breathing. Like breathing with lungs full of water and a head full of so many memories it’s about to overflow.

“…I was sixteen.” He continues. “Wasn't supposed to happen, you know?” His voice breaks on the last word, and his throat ties in a knot. He hasn’t talked about it in years. “Just one day and… I lost her. I was supposed to watch her, to make sure she stayed close. I looked away for only a minute.”

II’s face is even paler as he listens, hands knotted in his lap. His eyes are wide as saucers and more intense than Vessel has ever seen them, though he barely dares to take his own off the opposite wall.

He clears his throat, swiping his cheek with a sigh. “…the point is, she gave me a keyboard for my birthday. That same day. She got to hear me play it, said she loved it… she always loved to listen. I was just teaching her how to play the piano that month… She was a natural.” His eyes are full now, lips quivering. But there’s a point to all of this, and he’s gotta see it through.

“Matt was a drummer, yeah?”

II nods, scrunching his hands in his jeans.

“Means he’s not all gone. He’ll be with you now, when you play. In the music and the sound. Just like she’s in the keyboard, and in every the piano. We keep playing for them.”

His hand climbs to II’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “To keep their sound alive.”

II sniffles, nodding. “…thank you.” he says, hunching into Vessel. He wraps his arms around his waist, disappearing into his side like a little shadow. Vessel isn’t sure what to do at first, wet eyes blinking away the fog now that he’s being held. His arms wrap slowly around his friend, hugging him like he hasn’t hugged anyone in awhile.

They sit like that for a few minutes. Neither of them say a word, and neither of them cry anymore. It’s a sacred moment suspended in time and memory that Vessel makes sure to lock away and not forget.

After awhile they part, and Vessel leaves for the door.

“Vess?” II’s voice follows after him. He turns, raising his brows.

“What ever happened to your keyboard?”

The drummer asks. “You still got it somewhere, right?”

Vessel shuffles his feet, fingers gripping the brass doorknob.

“…It was in the motel I was staying in before everything.” He says, swallowing hard. “Probably confiscated, by now. But it’s alright. Maybe it’ll turn up in a pawnshop one of these days, huh?” He tries to smile, for II’s sake. But they both know it’s forced.

II nods, knotting his hand in the bedspread. “Yeah, probably, mate.”

As Vessel walks out, his head turns down the hallway just in time to see III’s door close softly shut.

He hadn’t even heard him.

•••

The house is quiet.

More quiet than usual.

Vessel stands in the kitchen, hand splayed on the counter as he downs a glass of water. His eyes are unfocused, flitting lazily out the window at the pitch darkness and the kitchen reflected in it, trying to gather his thoughts.

Where had he gone?

IV and II are both in their rooms still, having gone to bed hours ago. The sun will be up in an hour or two. But Vessel only managed to grab a bit of sleep before getting up to pace the night away, mind turning sluggishly over the events of the past few days and how they might correlate to III’s sudden disappearance.

“Does he do this often?” He had asked IV as the sun was setting and the bassist was still nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t said he was going anywhere, or even that he had something he needed to do. IV shrugged. “Sometimes… not a lot. But don’t sweat it, I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s not here for breakfast I’ll try calling him again.”

Vessel rubs his eyes, blinking hard. His head still hurts from that bit of an emotional display with II earlier since, honestly, he hasn’t cried in a good long while. And even then, it was hardly a sob fest.

But it certainly could have been.

”If you’ve gotta be sad, why don’t you write about it?” He can hear her say. “Make a song about being sad. That way, when people hear it, maybe it’ll make them happy they’re not alone!”

He closes his eyes, dropping his head back as his fingers tap slowly over the edge of the cold counter. Back and forth… Hands arched… If he listens carefully, he can hear the notes.

A tear slides down his cheek.

Suddenly he hears something down the hall. His eyes flick open, turning around as his fingers go still.

He sets his glass down.

“II?” He whispers, passing by the drummer's door and going straight to the sliver of light pouring out of III’s. He doesn’t remember it being open.

Reaching for the knob, he pushes it quietly and peers inside.

III’s not here.

Nothing is out of the ordinary, the stained glass lamp casting a soft glow over the aesthetically pleasing mess. And yet his heart drops to the floor the second his eyes land on the middle of the bed.

There’s no fucking way. That’s not possible, is it?

An unmanageable frown starts growing on his mouth as he steps inside, hands reaching shakily for the familiar row of pearly white keys. They’re a little scratched, the black surface aged and feeling oddly bare of a white bow.

But it’s perfect.

He presses down a single note, the delicate sound settling into his bones.

“-it’s tuned.”

He turns around, eyes blinking hazily at III in the doorway.

“What?” His voice is half stolen. “How did you- where did you…”

III steps inside, doc martins and a long suit jacket not detracting from the bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. He wanders closer to Vessel, looking down into his eyes and not stopping, finally. Those long lashes flutter as he looks over him, casting shadows down his cheeks.

His lips part. “…It’s tuned.”

Vessel’s arms are around him before he can stop himself, and III returns the gesture like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like holding him was something he was always meant to do, and that all he needed was the proper time.

“Thank you.” Vessel chokes into his shoulder, hands clawing up the back of the jacket. “T-thank you.”

III’s hands spreads in the back of the singer's hair, holding him tight enough to suffocate him and not showing any sign of letting go.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes.

And that’s it.

…And that’s more than Vessel ever needed to hear from him.

He was spat out. Left on the shore, rejected by the sea and all that it contained. He was desperate. Alone. Made to wander and wonder why he wasn't fit for the same tomb as her, after all.

He waited on the beach, praying to the water. Spreading his hands in the foam and asking it, simply, why.

But it had no answer, and neither did anything else. Not his mother, not one of the flyers in the waiting room a month later. Not a god.

Though he had this insatiable desire; To claw down his mothers heaven, and make sure that the girl was in there. If there was ever a reason for heaven to be real, it was so that she’d be put in it and sheltered forever. Whether or not it was best. Whether or not he’d ever be able to reach her, in the end.

“Let the tide carry you…” his hands draw the sounds out of the freshly tuned keyboard, nodding his head slowly to the music. It’s alive again.

“…back to me.”

Tags: @thevenomousseprent @moonlit-valkyrie @mmendez0124 @yourviscera @rain-down-on-me @xzero01

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

(Alternative Ending) 79 days: bursting blooms

Myoui Mina x reader

Part of the series: Palette

Previous chapter: (13) 1 day: colorless

79 days.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Mina reached out her hand blindly to find her ringing phone on the bedside table. Having had a late night out, drinking till the early hours of dawn, she was furious at anyone who dared to disturb her slumber at six in the morning. 

Without checking who was calling, Mina brought her cell phone to her ear.

"Don’t call me this early unless someone is dying," she gritted her teeth, rubbing her pounding head in anger.

“Don’t yell at me. I wouldn’t call you if I didn’t have to,” Haerin’s soft voice echoed through the line. “Can you drive us to the hospital?”

Face burning in shame, Mina quickly cleared her throat. “Yes, I’ll be there. What happened?”

“Don’t pretend to care,” Haerin said, her voice void of any emotion, before hanging up.

It had been a while since Mina last saw or heard from Haerin.

She missed the young girl, treating her like her own sister. But the cat-like girl bore such a strong resemblance to you, and seeing her was not good for her conflicted emotions. Mina missed you dearly, but was unable to get over her resentment towards you. Her mind was a chaotic mess, and she was not strong enough to sort through her thoughts, but she prayed that with time, she would be able to make her way back to you.

Her heart pounded in both worry about you and suspense of seeing you after a while as she sped down the empty roads of early Seoul towards your flat.

Leaning casually against the hood of her car, Mina waited for you and Haerin, softly humming a tune in an attempt to quell her anxious thoughts. She attempted to appear nonchalant, as if she wasn't nervous or she hadn’t cared enough to miss you. She hoped you couldn’t see her desperation on her face. 

The slam of the front doors brought her attention towards the entrance of your building. It dawned on her that you had lost weight drastically. You were always slender, but this time you looked unhealthy. She wondered if you had stopped eating, or if your insomnia was acting up again. Wearing a snug grey sweater and jeans, you looked even smaller than ever. You looked like you were about to pass out any second as you made your way down the concrete stairs, with Haerin supporting you carefully from behind.

Dropping the 'I don’t care' facade in an instant, Mina rushed over to support you, slinging your bag over her shoulders and gently guiding you towards the front seat. Her heart hammered in worry; it was her first time seeing you like this. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, before slinking down into the familiar soft leather seats.

A new smell of smoke invaded your nose, but you decided not to comment about it, too tired to start an argument. 

Reaching over to buckle your seat belt, Mina gave you a soft smile. The same smile you fell in love with all those months ago, and it didn't fail to make your heart skip a few beats. No matter how much hurt she put you through, or how much betrayal, your heart would always yearn for her.

"Are you okay?” Mina’s voice was low as she inspected your face and tired eyes.

Before you could reassure her that you were fine, the loud slam of the back door of the car interrupted you. Haerin was notably mad at Mina, and you couldn’t blame the younger one for showing her anger. She was just protective over you.

Haerin simply glared at the idol and stayed silent, ignoring Mina’s questions and looking out of the window. The catlike girl was too young to understand the concept of love, and that was okay. She couldn’t understand that people are free to choose who they love, even if it leaves the other to demise. The soulmate connection is just a connection to bring suitable people together, but to win someone’s love is the biggest challenge. You hoped that Haerin would always be receiving love, and show her love without fear, even when you were gone.

After dropping Haerin off at school, Mina drove towards the hospital in silence. Countless unspoken words lingered in the air, yet neither you nor Mina acknowledged them. Parking the car, Mina turned to you, her eyes clouded with concern.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” She tentatively cupped your cheeks with her warm hands, and you briefly closed your eyes, relishing the familiar and missed gesture.

“Nothing,” you replied simply.

“I can tell you haven’t been sleeping or eating.”

At her observation, you pulled away, distancing yourself from the fleeting comfort she offered. You knew Mina wouldn't always be there to care for you.

“I’m fine,” you said, reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Mina demanded, attempting to grab your arm to stop you. But as soon as her hand brushed your wrists, you hissed in pain and yanked your arm away from her.

In that moment, it dawned on her that time was running out. Your sickness was a consequence of her indecisiveness.

“Don’t wait for me. I can get home myself,” you mumbled, swiftly exiting the car, but not before Mina noticed a trickle of blood escaping from your eyes. 

You were crying blood.

.

.

.

.

Mina tried to slow down her racing heartbeat as she gazed at the small hourglass keychain in front of her, its yellowish-brown particles forming a triangular pile at the bottom. The passage of time served as a stark reminder of her relationship with it, bringing to mind all the moments she had let slip through her fingers, all the times she had wasted on someone else when she could have been with you. Sitting there, smoking one cigarette after another, she tried to clear her mind, but the sinking feeling in her stomach persisted.

After dropping by your favorite brunch place to grab you some lunch, Mina found herself circling back to the hospital to look for you. Despite her attempts to appear indifferent, she couldn't bear seeing you in so much pain. She had practice scheduled for today, but her comeback was the last thing on her mind at the moment. So there she was, waiting for you to emerge from the hospital building, her thoughts in disarray and her heart pounding erratically with worry.

Having called your number after sending several unread texts, Mina noticed that the ringing was coming from the backseat of her car. It was then that she realized you had forgotten to bring your bag. Reaching back to retrieve the worn black bag, a small notepad slipped out and landed on the carpeted floor of the car with a subtle thud.

Mina hesitated, but eventually picked up the notepad and flipped through the pages. She didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, but she couldn't resist perusing your writing. It brought back memories of the little notes you used to leave on her fridge before heading off to work, and the love letters you would slip into her bag during her promotions.

The initial pages contained simple daily tasks, like reminders of what to pick up at the supermarket. Mina couldn't help but smile at how you highlighted her favorite foods as "must buy" and made notes for various dates, such as:

214, 9 p.m. - teach Haerin how to fry an egg

207 - call mom.

However, as she delved deeper into the notepad, her heart ached with regret and pain.

198 10 a.m. - Pick Mina up from the airport. She has practice.

143 7 p.m. - Date Night. Cancel.

109 - Anniversary dinner. Cancel.

"102 - Bring Mina lunch. Cancel. 

With each strike through the events Mina had missed, it seemed as if another volley of arrows launched itself at her heart as she read the list of disappointments you had endured. She had deliberately pushed you away, focusing more on her internal conflicts than on your feelings. While you were patiently waiting for her at home, consumed by thoughts of her, she was seeking solace in the arms of strangers at parties, attempting to drown her feelings for you.

Forcing herself to continue reading, Mina tried to suppress the physical pain coursing through her body as she encountered each instance where she had bailed on you. She desperately searched for any evidence that she had brought you happiness. Just once.

But to her dismay, she found none.

As the pages progressed, your normally neat handwriting devolved into hurried scribbles, as if you were racing against time to record everything before it slipped your mind. They weren't plans, but rather updates on your whereabouts and activities, with specific instructions.

93 1 p.m. - Photoshoot at Songjeong beach. Did not drive. Call Karina immediately.

89 - Already bought groceries. Do not buy again.

76 - At the bank. Take bus 311 home.

73 - At the hospital. Mina drove. Take taxi home.

Amidst the entries, there were pages filled with basic information such as your phone number, address, and even your own birthday and age.

It was then that it hit Mina. You were losing your memory, which explained the meticulous updates and the information you felt compelled to record. You were tracking the passing days with the numbers on your wrists, the numbers being something you would never forget.

But it was something Mina had managed to erase from her mind. She had forgotten that you were slowly approaching the end of your five years.

Panicking, Mina hastily returned the notepad to your bag and hurriedly exited the car, sprinting toward the hospital to find you. A couple of hours had slipped by since she dropped you off, and she cursed her own foolishness for not entering the hospital sooner to locate you. You had forgotten your phone, your bag, and the notepad, heightening Mina's concern now that she knew you were struggling to retain memories beyond a few hours.

Scurrying through one hallway after another, her sneakers squeaking, Mina checked every door, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. People began to recognize her as she dashed past them in a frantic frenzy. She had forgotten to put on her face mask in her rush to get to the hospital, but her worries about dispatch noticing her presence were the least of her concerns. Despite spending so much time pushing you away, all she wanted now was to have you safe in her arms.

Ironic isn’t it?

Running her fingers through her hair in desperation, she scanned the hospital courtyard, hoping to spot your familiar silhouette. Yet, all she could see were a few nurses leisurely strolling under the gray skies with their patients beneath the trees. You had parted ways with her hours ago; you had likely already left and wandered off somewhere far away by now. Mina knelt to catch her breath, wiping the sweat and a few tears from her forehead before collapsing onto the soft grass in defeat.

Perhaps it was too late. She had wasted so much time pushing you away, and you had given her chances time and time again, only to be let down eventually. She had run out of chances, and there seemed to be nothing she could do.

“The young woman you’re looking for…” A gentle, frail voice interrupted Mina's despair, causing her to startle and look up.

It was an old woman, hunched over her cane, her face adorned with wrinkles and her nearly white hair peeking from beneath her light green hospital gown.

“She went that way an hour ago.”

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Mina realized she had never met this woman, nor had she mentioned to anyone that she was searching for someone.

“Do you want some advice?” the old woman asked, smiling kindly at Mina’s bewilderment, her jet-black eyes sparkling with life, a stark contrast to her weathered appearance.

Slowly leaning down toward the crying idol, the old woman gently took Mina’s right hand in her warm grasp, tracing the fading palette tattoo with her fingers. As soon as her touch connected with Mina’s tattoo, a searing pain shot through her heart, before spreading along her veins to her arm. Mina’s tattoo transformed back into its vibrant design, now featuring a subtle addition: a red line extending from the palette, encircling her wrist like wisps of smoke.

“Why chase camera lights when you have the entire sky of fireworks in your hands?” the old woman whispered in her ear before placing something in Mina’s palm.

It was a piece of red thread, similar to the new addition in her tattoo. Mina examined it closely, sensing an unfamiliar warmth emanating from the thin material, its pulsations echoing her own heartbeat.

“Last chance,” the woman’s voice faded into the surroundings like a gentle breeze.

When Mina raised her head to look for the woman, she had disappeared. Mina quickly rose to her feet, attempting to locate where the woman had gone. She had countless questions, but the steady throb of the thread in her hand nudged her confusion aside. She had more important matters to attend to. Quickly wiping away any traces of tears, Mina composed herself, suppressing all doubts. She wouldn't stop looking for you until she found you.

Darting in the direction the old woman had indicated, the idol resumed her search, calling your name as she combed through the streets. The sun was setting, and the chill in the air grew more noticeable; she worried that you might catch a cold, given your already weakened state.

Two hours later, with the moon hanging low in the dark sky, Mina was beginning to lose hope. She decided to contact her fellow TWICE members and your mutual friends to seek their help in the search. Her bandmates grew concerned when she missed a crucial meeting with J.Y. Park himself, and they had been rejecting every call their manager made. Informing them of her plan, their shared friends were relieved that Mina had finally come to her senses. They were tired of watching her self-destruct and break your heart repeatedly.

“Come on, Mina, think,” Mina muttered, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

By now, you could be anywhere. She had searched all your favorite spots, but to no avail. Maybe she didn't know you as well as she had thought. After all, she had pushed you away for so long.

“She started to forget about things, but she always managed to remember you,” Haerin quietly remarked to the idol, leaning against the wall.

The younger girl joined the search as soon as she saw Mina's distressed texts, calling Ryujin to pick her up from school. She was furious upon learning that Mina had lost you, but she couldn't bring herself to continue resenting the distraught idol. Seeing Mina break down in a crying mess was not something she enjoyed. Haerin just wanted her family back, she wanted you back.

It suddenly clicked in Mina's mind. Guryongpo Beach. The very beach where she discovered you were her soulmate, and where you shared your first kiss. You might have forgotten everything else, but you would never forget the place where you shared a cherished memory with her. You loved her too much to let go of any recollection about her.

“Thanks, Rinnie,” Mina muttered, squeezing Haerin’s shoulder in comfort before dashing toward her car, leaving the younger girl puzzled. However, the determined expression etched on the idol's face was enough to reassure her that everything would be alright.

With thoughts of you consuming her mind, Mina sped down the highways toward the beach in half the time it would normally take, likely getting a few speeding tickets along the way. But she didn't care about that. She didn't care if dispatch caught wind of the ever-perfect role model Mina speeding at a dangerous speed, she didn't care if dispatch uncovered her relationship with you, and she didn't even care if she got fired from TWICE. All she cared about was finding you. It was a shame that it had taken her so long to finally come to her senses.

.

.

.

.

Getting out of her car, the slam of the door resounded loudly, echoing along the empty beach. The tide was higher than the last time Mina had been there, the dark, black abyss of the unknown seemingly ready to swallow her up. She shivered as the chilly ocean breeze blew across her face, squinting her eyes as she scanned the area for you. That’s when she recognized your familiar silhouette, a little further down the beach, attempting to light something in your hands.

Hurrying down the sandy wooden stairs, she ran toward you, stumbling every so often as her sneakers got caught in the sand. The path to you was rough, but it paled in comparison to what she had put you through in the past few months. She would climb through lava just to make it up to you.

Finally reaching you, she found you sitting on the sand dangerously close to the water, trying to light a sparkler. You appeared fragile but determined, as if nothing was more important than the bag of sparklers beside you.

The wind kept extinguishing the lighter in your hands, and you repeatedly clicked it in frustration.

"Dammit," you muttered under your breath, hunching over in concentration.

Mina couldn’t help but find you adorable in this situation.

“Y/N,” Mina said, finally catching your attention.

You looked at her in surprise, not having heard her footsteps as they were drowned out by the ocean tides. 

“Mina?” you replied, giving her a dazed, melancholic smile.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” the idol said, slowly sitting down next to you, as though you were a wild animal she was afraid to scare away with any sudden movements. 

“That’s silly. I’m here because…” You paused, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you tried to recall the reason.

“I don’t remember,” you admitted, looking down at your shoes in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Mina reassured you, gently placing her warm hands on your cold ones. “It’s okay.”

“I bought you sparklers because I remember you said you liked how they looked like fireworks, but I couldn’t light them up,” you said, hoping it could explain why you were sitting there without any reason on the beach.

“You said that all of our wishes will come true if we light them together, but this stupid lighter won’t let me light any of them up.” You rambled on.

You were terrified that you couldn’t remember why you were there. You even had a hard time recalling what you did before getting on the bus. All you knew was that you felt drawn to this beach, and you had to come.

Your breath hitched up as you started to panic, a few tears slipping from your eyes as you tried to recollect any memories of this morning.

Sensing your distress, Mina quickly reached up and tenderly wiped away the dark red drops of blood escaping your eyes. Your condition was worse than it had been this morning, and Mina was shocked at how fast the deterioration was.

“Let’s light one together, jagi,” the idol suggested, giving you her familiar lopsided smile that always made you feel better, the one that made you feel safe.

“Let’s make a wish.”

Pulling out another lighter from her jacket pocket, Mina lit up a fresh sparkler and placed it in your hands, all the while making a mental note to quit smoking, noticing the disapproving wrinkle of your nose at the sight of her pulling out the lighter with familiarity.

As you held up the lit sparkler and looked at it in amazement, Mina kept her eyes on you. Your face was illuminated by the soft crackling lights, and golden hues reflected in your eyes. When your eyes met hers, the sound of her heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the waves, and all she could hear was the strong and fast pace of her heart. All she could see was the color of you. She had spent so much time searching for colors in others, when you had given her a full palette of yourself.

At that moment, she was certain she would do anything to stay by your side.

“Make a wish, Mina,” you whispered, giving her a sense of déjà vu.

Mina closed her eyes and wished as solemnly and hard as she could, calling out to the fates to give her the last bit of strength. She hoped that you could forgive her for all the things she had done to hurt you in the past, she hoped that you would still want to be with her after everything.

As the sparkler began to die out, Mina opened her eyes once more and gave your face another look, hoping that the tender look in your eyes would give her strength.

“What did you wish for?” you asked after sitting in silence for a few moments.

“I wished for you,” Mina replied, her heart beating slightly faster as she waited for your reaction.

“You have me, silly,” you said, trying to lighten the mood with a nudge of her shoulder.

“No, I mean,” Mina quickly turned her body to face you with determination.

“I wished for us to be together. I wished that we could mark the connection.”

It took you a few seconds to reply. Mina sat there, worried, as you carefully chose your words.

“You don’t want that, Mina.”

“I do.”

"It will only make you unhappy. Don’t you understand? It will tie you to me like the way I am tied to you now," you said, your voice rising with anger. "You don’t have to save me. I am fine like this."

“Y/N-” Mina started, but you cut her off.

“I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life resenting me.”

Mina grabbed onto your arm firmly when you tried to get up and leave, refusing to let you pull away after she had finally found you.

“Please listen to me, Y/N,” she begged, pulling you impossibly close.

“I’m so sorry for taking this long to realize that I love you. I put my career and ego before you, and that is something I will regret forever if I lose you. I tried so hard to be someone I wasn’t, I tried so hard to maintain this image, but they mean nothing to me if I end up without you for the rest of my life. I tried so hard to stop myself from loving you, but every time I sleep in someone else’s bed, I can only think about how much I hurt you.”

You sat still, your hands limp at your sides, not hugging her back.

“There is nothing I am more sure of than you,” Mina continued, letting a few tears escape her eyes.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her shaking frame in comfort. No matter how hard you tried to resist her, you would always fall back into her. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she had the power to illuminate everything in your path, but she also had the power to burn everything down, including you.

You were sure you would love her for as long as you lived, but would she be able to do the same?

But you wished for her too, didn’t you?

“Okay,” you said, giving in to your heart.

“Okay?” Mina pulled back, afraid that her mind was playing tricks on her.

Nodding, you leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Yes, okay.”

Mina reached into her back pocket for the red piece of thread that the old woman had given her earlier that day. She finally understood what to do with it.

She winced when she pulled up your sleeves to reveal your numbered tattoo. Like what she had seen happen to Karina years ago, the tattoo was now cutting deep into your bone, forever unable to heal as the numbers repeatedly carved your demise.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in regret, before planting a kiss on your palm. “This must’ve been painful.”

You cupped her angelic face with your other hand and gave her a reassuring smile of forgiveness. 

Taking a deep breath, Mina tied the thin red string around your wrist and waited. At first, nothing happened, until you felt a searing pain. It was more intense than any pain your tattoo had brought to you previously, and you doubled over in pain, clutching your arm. You could feel the wound of your tattoo close up, and new designs were carved into your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mina doing the same, cradling her arm in pain.

“Are you alright?” Mina panted as the pain finally stopped.

She noticed that you looked different. You’d always looked breathtakingly beautiful to her, but now, you seemed to emit a soft glow of color and warmth, like an angel.

Noticing that you were staring at your wrist in confusion, Mina leaned over to look, letting out a gasp as she did so.

The once black-bolded numbers on your wrist were replaced by small tendrils of color woven intricately together, like chrysanthemums of light. Your arm was now covered by bursting blooms of light, beautifully connected into small flames of fireworks. A red firework at the corner of your wrist had an extended red line that went around her wrists, like the one Mina had put on you.

Her tattoo had also changed once again; the once smooth splattered edges of the colors were now transformed into jagged edges of sparks, replacing the paint on the palette with small fireworks.

A sky full of fireworks in your hands.

She gently pressed her lips against yours, relishing in the softness of you, her heart soaring with joy and love. She would make things right, and you trusted her enough to do so. Things would never be easy, but she was sure that you were the one for her, in this life or the next.

“Please be careful with my heart.”

“I promise.”

And... that's it for Palette!

Thank you all for joining me on this rollercoaster of a story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did 🥰

Let me know what your thoughts are on this alternative ending. (It took so long for me to write this; I hope I didn't disappoint 🥲) I decided to do more of Mina’s perspective in this chapter to better show her conflicting emotions. Also did more symbolisms in this one, so let me know if they get confusing!

I'm open to requests, so please don't hesitate to send me some of your ideas!

[canadachildvol2]

Wish rewrite ✨ pt.1

Everyone and their grandma has done a rewrite of "Wish," but I couldn't help myself. I've seen the concept art and have watched an array of video essays dissecting what went wrong with the final product and my imagination went wild (as it often does with movies that had so much potential yet failed to deliver).

Full disclosure: I'm not a songwriter nor am I an expert on music theory, so when it comes to the songs in this rewrite, I'm just gonna give a general idea of what they're about and what happens.

With that out of the way, let's get into part 1 of my own "Wish" rewrite! And I'm in no way proclaiming this to be the superior version; I'm just sharing what I came up with like a lot of you have. I've also included a visual of my Asha redesign, which I hope you like. <3

(Also tagging @annymation :) )

-

First and foremost, I'm torn between this version either being completely 2D-animated or just Star (specifically in his normal magical form) and his magic being the only things 2D-animated. You can envision it however you like.

Book prologue: Like the movie, this opens with a storybook. However, it's in live-action. A narrator (perhaps a Disney Legend, like Mary Costa, Kathryn Beaumont, etc.) tells the backstory of how Rosas became a literal magical place:

“Once upon a time, there was a small island kingdom called Rosas. Surrounded by crystal waters and nestled beneath an endless sky. One day, the king gathered his subjects to make an important announcement: through magic, he had found a way to grant wishes! And since then, the people looked to their magnificent king to make their deepest desires come true.

This magic was passed down to the royals that followed, and in this time, the people continued their undying devotion to their extraordinary leaders.

Over the years, boats came from far and wide, carrying those who wanted to see this magic up close, as well as those who sought to live in Rosas. And our story begins with the docking of one of these boats…”

Introduction to Asha/Rosas; “Welcome to Rosas”: A group of newcomers excitedly wait to enter Rosas and this is where we meet Asha. "One... two... three," she mumbles - as if preparing for a performance - before stepping out in front of the group. Bubbly and all smiles, she introduces herself as their tour guide and ushers them into the kingdom. This version of “Welcome to Rosas” not only explains the rules of the kingdom regarding wishes (giving wishes at age 18 [it's mandatory], how the wishing ceremony plays out, only one wish is granted each month due to the large amount of magic needed, etc.) but it also highlights how hardworking and dutiful the citizens are. Additionally, it mentions that Rosas was once a land in disarray, but the magic of wish-granting led them to prosperity. While there’s an upbeat tone to the song, there is an almost sinister undertone that’s lost on the newcomers (and to us, the audience, if we don’t pay too much attention). I should quickly point out that people don't forget their wishes after giving them to Magnifico like they do in the movie. They just no longer have the motivation to pursue their wishes themselves.

Design note: Asha is the only person in Rosas wearing orange, thereby making her stand out from the largely blue, purple, and grey colour palette (much like how Belle is the only person in her village wearing blue). click the image to see more outfit details

Meeting Dahlia and other townspeople: After Asha leaves the group to let them enjoy the sights, her bubbly persona immediately disappears and her true nature is revealed. Levelheaded, composed, a touch cynical. A realist. This personality is shown as she interacts with some of the townsfolk (moreover, this scene alludes to what some of them have wished for). She takes a bag of fruit to Dahlia, her best friend and a talented baker. She’s cheerful, idealistic, and tends to stumble over her words when excited or stressed (a nod to Doc from “Snow White” along with her character design). Like the rest of Rosas, she thinks highly of the king and queen. In exchange for the fruit, Dahlia presents Asha with a birthday cake for her grandfather. This scene showcases Dahlia’s desire to become the castle baker someday and that she thinks her work needs to be perfect to get that position (even though her work is already amazing). We are also introduced to Simon, who comes by to pick up an order for delivery. He’s a few years older than Asha and Dahlia and is already showing the same level of exhaustion as most of the other adults. He wants his wish granted so badly that he’s willing to work hard and impress the king and queen no matter what. He's secretive about what his wish is.

"Welcome to Rosas (reprise)": As Asha walks home with the cake in a box, she looks at the citizens around her. This time, we’re seeing life in Rosas through her eyes rather than those of the awestruck newcomers. “Welcome to Rosas (reprise)” brings to the forefront how exhausting, unfair, and almost cult-like (i.e. the people’s intense adoration of the king and queen) everything is, while also insinuating the crux of Asha’s personal journey: she doesn’t have hope.

Meeting Sakina and Sabino: Asha arrives home to find Sabino asleep in a chair by the window. She smiles at him; a big, loving smile. Up until now, her smiles have either been small, fake (for her job), or just smirks. She gently wakes him up and he tells her he was dreaming about one of his artworks coming to life. “In a few hours, it may actually happen,” he says with a hopeful grin. She bites her tongue so as not to bring his cheerful mood down with a "Let's be realistic" comment. Soon after, Sakina enters the house carrying a basket of fresh fruit and looking tired. Asha takes the basket from her, fussing over how exhausted she looks. ("Mama, you shouldn't be doing all this work by yourself!") Sakina says that she’s fine, but Asha’s worries aren’t placated. Eventually, the trio sit down to enjoy the cake. Sakina laments the absence of Asha’s father, which prompts Asha to fiddle with her silver bracelet.

Wishing ceremony: We finally see King Magnifico and Queen Amaya in all their glory. They are regal, stunning, and tower over the people of Rosas in more ways than one. Still, when 18-year-olds and new residents approach the king on stage to give their wishes to him, he presents himself as an affable man. The cultish vibes that have so far been subtle are made much more apparent in this scene, complete with chanting, cheering, and bowing in a way that demonstrates complete submission. Sabino and Sakina wait with bated breath to see whose wish will be granted, while Asha remains less optimistic. She holds her grandfather’s hand reassuringly when the announcement is made. It’s not him. While not nearly as surprised or devastated as Sabino is, his disappointed reaction still breaks Asha’s heart. So much so that it encourages her to do something drastic.

Asha learns the truth: Sakina and Sabino head home while Asha makes her way to the castle entrance. She overhears the guards tell other people that the king and queen aren’t seeing anyone right now and reinforcing a specific rule: “commoners aren’t allowed in the palace.” Not to be deterred, Asha finds another way in. She’s distracted from her objective of ambushing the king and queen by the sight of the castle’s interior. It’s beautiful; unlike anything she’s ever seen. It's as if it were made of crystals, like the waters surrounding their island. Reflective surfaces are adorned on almost every section of the walls. Curiousity gets the better of her and she ascends the staircase to the highest room in the building. After brief hesitation, she enters and finds that it’s the room that houses the wishes (the general look of this room is about the same as how it is in the movie). Her wonderment is interrupted by the sound of Magnifico and Amaya outside. Thinking quickly, she hides in the balcony running along the upper part of the room. It’s here that she witnesses something horrifying: Magnifico taking a couple of the wishes in his hands and crushing them. This is how he gets his powers. He and Amaya laugh at how these people will be waiting forever for their wishes to be granted. ("They will work themselves to death, never knowing that their wishes, their dreams, will never come true.") Furthermore, Asha learns that Magnifico is already very powerful and doesn't need a whole month to garner enough energy to grant a single wish. After the couple leave, Asha sneaks back out.

Warning Sakina and Sabino: Asha rushes home and tells Sakina and Sabino about what she saw. Obviously they don’t believe her and an argument ensues. They can’t understand why she’d speak ill of the king and queen, and she’s trying so hard to plead her case. At one point, she accidentally hurts Sabino’s feelings by saying that realistically speaking, the odds of his wish being granted are slim to none. She feels awful about what she said and she tries one last time to convince them. Sakina gently but firmly tells her to stop and “When you’re older, you’ll understand.” Asha is left stunned and alone as Sakina tends to a tired and upset Sabino. Overwhelmed, she leaves the house and runs into the woods. She's trying so hard not to break down.

“This Wish”: This version of the song, much like in the movie, sees Asha wish for a way to help Rosas. However, it also conveys her internal struggle of letting herself feel some semblance of hope for the first time in a long time. She initially pulls back and scoffs at the idea of wishing on a star or even believing that things in Rosas will change, but as the song goes on, she caves into what her heart is telling her as opposed to what her head is telling her. It’s worth noting that each time she considers wishing on a star, it’s instigated by her looking at her bracelet. Akin to “Part of Your World,” after so much build-up, the song ends on a soft but powerful note where Asha finally wishes on a star (she still has serious doubts, but there's a sliver of cautious optimism shining through).

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5

[b1zmuth]

A Strong Tea For The Weak-Willed | Lucifer X Reader Oneshot

SC // slight angst, comfort, fluff, somber ending, despair x10

TL:DR: A homesick reader drinks tea and has a big fucking coming to Jesus moment about life before coming to the DD, lucifer sits with and drinks tea..?

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‘’With due diligence, patience will wear thin and the veil of sorrow will reveal itself.’’ … I remember that sentence from a book I borrowed from Lucifer. But for some reason, it..stuck with me. The feeling of despair crawled up my spine- the stomach-churning anxiety that came with each silly excuse to get me to stay. 

I've been staying in the common room for hours now, sitting by the fireplace to debate if I should really go through with leaving..

But staying here brings nothing but that same god-awful feeling to my body. Why bother staying if I'm just going to be constantly compared to her? 

I've chalked it up to just being homesick for months now- but there is no denying it anymore.

There is no WANT to go home, I NEED to return to where I belong- somewhere where these demons don't pester me about how I’m nothing like HER!’’ I’m just a weak, stupid replacement for HER’’ and don't even get me started about the constant threat of being mauled by Beelzebub or having to be on the receiving end of Satan’s wrath- which is already a punishment in itself mind you. 

It's only been three months since I arrived in the Devildom- three months of pure hell. It really makes me wonder what on God's green earth did I do to deserve being down here? 

What did I do to deserve this? This… unforgiving personal fucking hell? 

Feeling the hot and warm salty tears fall from the grace of your eyes, watching them fall with an unexplainable pearlescent shine of a mix between reds and blacks, that finally made you get a grip on reality- your own tears, staining the cushiony leather chair you sat upon.

I.. I can't stay here. But I have no options or a clue as to how to leave- I could ask Diavolo? No- no. That egocentric jerk seemed a little TOO eager for my arrival- I'll just take my chances and ask Lucifer..! Right! 

A deep, but authoritative loud voice spoke from your right, startling you.‘’A little eager to leave, aren't we?’’ ‘’..???” confusion now struck throughout your body, causing your heart and mind to start racing to find closure- comfort, fuck it, ANYTHING at that moment.

The voice belonging to the mysterious owner caused you to jump in an odd mix between genuine fear and confusion- ‘’I hope you weren't planning on leaving the House of Lamentation- especially not without my profound knowledge of your dismissal?’’ the voice spoke again, now in an accusatory-but-questioning tone …was it him? Just how long has he been there?

 ‘’You look awfully confused. Did you hit your head on the way here? Or are you just not competent enough to understand what I'm saying?’’ the voice, now with a darker tone, presumably irate that you’ve been straight ignoring them for three minutes now- ‘’I am very much competent- probably more fucking competent than the likes of YOU infact!’’ you snapped back, the irritation prevalent in your voice- your mouth finishing its sentence mere seconds before your body finally snapped towards the voice, letting you finally see who the pestering and belittling demon was..

And to not much of your shock, it was Lucifer.

‘’Fuck.’’ 

His daunting figure dragging along a matching despairful aura- sending chills down your spine and the suffocating-like grasp of just his presence alone making you uncomfortable- his monotone color palette that consisted of nothing but black, grey, and red did nothing to help the situation. 

‘’For someone who was just wallowing in their own self-despair, you seem to be quick at the mouth.” He said, his legs crossing over from one to the other- “why cry in such a public place? Why not wallow in your despair in the comfort of your own room?” 

You scoffed at his comment, wiping your tear-stricken face- “What does it matter to you? Any room in this god-forsaken house fills me with nothing except for the longing for my HOME! To see my home again Lucifer! The place where I can walk around in peace without having my life constantly threatened- to stop being compared to your DEAD sister! Is that what you all wanted from me?! To be a ragdoll designed to take your anger out on?!” You yelled, the tears that you had just stopped from flowing- now coming out in full force, a waterfall of tears raining down upon the neat carpet underneath you. 

“Is that, truly, how you feel about being here?” Lucifer asked, his monotone voice doing nothing to appease your shattered heart- “Sit down. I will go prepare some tea, maybe that will cease your meticulous weeping.” He sighed, motioning his hand for you to sit down.

It took you a couple of seconds of internal conflict with yourself and staring at the slowly disappearing figure of Lucifer for you to finally get yourself together enough to sit down. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Eventually, Lucifer returned with a tray of tea and some pastries- cookies and sweet bread you guessed. 

After setting down the tray of goods Lucifer dusted himself off before finally sitting down and taking a sip of his tea, swirling the pearlescent-colored liquid around his cup- “do you really feel that distraught about living with us?” You paused, taking a moment to process what Lucifer just said.

“Of course. Who wouldn't? I was ripped from my home via some mysterious force, took to a random place where I knew nobody except for the nine men in front of me that I hoped I would get to know- but that was wishful thinking, right? It's been three months of constant reminders that I will never be like Liltith, this HOUSE is a constant reminder that I will probably never see my home again, my family, my friends-“ you ranted, only to be quickly cut off by Lucifer.

 “My life before I was dragged down here. That's what you were going to say, right?” He responded, his icy cold gaze softening after listening to how your situation was and how it resonated with how he felt- “I know it may not seem like it to a human like you, but I understand how you feel. That feeling of never being able to go to your true home, to see your family again- because I've experienced it, and already are experiencing it. He started, holding up a gloved hand to stop your confused questions. 

“I apologize for my brother's actions towards you. I find it utterly disgusting and unacceptable that they would treat you, someone innocent, that way. I apologize for the way I, myself, have acted towards you- not being there enough for you when you are in the same boat as I once was.

I have failed you, as both a caretaker and the only guide you have had.” He ended, placing his cup of tea back on the tray and bowing his head in an apology. 

“… We are in the same boat? Seriously Lucifer, you are a demon- is this not your home? You live here, your home is nothing but a mere twitch away!” You slightly lurched forward in your chair, holding your hand out at Lucifer to further prove your point. 

“You are clearly not a big reader of that “bible” you humans love to pass around.” He shook his head before reaching for his teacup. 

What a dick. How can you be a demon and want to talk to ME about “not being able to return home” and “being in the same boat as me” for him? This is his home here- my home is forever out of my grasp, most likely destroyed! Hell, I'm probably dead and Diavolo is just toying with me about this whole “Exchange Student Program”! What could HE, LUCIFER, know… know- 

And then it clicked. 

Lucifer, the avatar of pride, someone who fell from the shining graces of Heaven, someone's home who isn't a “probably never to be reunited with” but an “Eternally confined to the fiery pits of hell for your wicked soul to find eternal damnation”. 

Someone who would never see a part of his family, someone who would constantly be beaten down by people he didn't even know well- us humans and the angels. 

Someone who would never go home again.

Taking a sip from his tea, Lucifer smiled at your now bewildered face- ‘’Its not a difficult task to evade through, i will guide you, but only if you really need my guidance.’’ he uncrossed his legs before standing up and offering his hand towards you, gaining a small smile from you in response.

Taking up Lucifers offer, you took his hand in yours, feeling the small warmth that emanated off of his hand- despite the obvious barrier of straight leather glove that ceased any skin-to-skin contact with the taller male. 

‘’If you could get Satan to stop throwing piano’s at me.. That would be nice change of pace.’’ you motioned towards the half smashed piano that was stuck in the nearby wall, getting a displeased groan from the latter and another apology, now for the hazardous mess you had to evade everyday- ‘’Also, thank you for the tea, it tasted original.. Does it have a name?’’ you questioned, your head instinctively turning upwards to look at him.

‘’A Strong Tea For The Weak-Willed. The herb leaves i added help with stress and dopamine levels, although, im pleased to hear that you enjoyed it.’’ he smiled tiredly at you, your conversation lasting all the way up until the both of you made it to your room door.

You thanked him for the walk before wishing him a goodnight and heading into your room- but not before being able to hear him reciprocate the same words back. 

‘’Goodnight, MC.''

--------------------------------------------------------------------

This was my first ever fanfic! I tried to keep with the plot and implement the comfort parts without making that said comfort feel rushed, and I for ONCE wrote out the plot and didn't do freeballing it lol

I hope you enjoy it! also, SC stands for story contents (it was actually supposed to be TW but I thought that one over and confused myself)

bizmuth 24' | Bizmuth's Workshop

[musingsanddrabbles]

@dreamingofimpalas asked:

Can you write out a small scene between Emmett and Esme, when Emmett first joined the family? I think it would have been really sweet to see, especially because they're both such family-oriented people. I could imagine Emmett being so nervous at first and Esme just guiding him along through the process.

Word count: 1,305 | Characters: Esme, Emmett, Rosalie, Edward. | no content warnings.

It's been six months since the addition of Emmett to their coven. Esme remembers the day Rosalie came home carrying a fatally wounded Emmett as if it was yesterday; she's still immensely impressed with Rosalie's self control. Esme couldn't have done the same, she simply didn't have the restraint. It still stuns her to know that Carlisle managed to restrain himself from simply draining her dry when transforming her. The self control of them both was beyond admirable.

Between now and Emmett's addition, Rosalie confided in Esme why she brought Emmett home. Rosalie's honesty admittedly took Esme by surprise, but amongst Rosalie's admission, Esme could make her own. Esme didn't remember much of her son. What she could remember was the mop of dark hair and a flash of blue she could only think were his eyes. Emmett reminded Rosalie of Henry in the same way he reminded Esme of her own son. They both let grief-stricken laughter bubble from lips with their confessions, relieved the other one understood.

Ever since that hushed conversation while the men had taken themselves hunting, Esme has gleefully watched the blossoming relationship develop between Rosalie and their newest coven member.

Emmett's feelings have been evident since eyelids revealed the blood-red of newborn eyes. Despite impassioned pleas from Rosalie as she cradled a wounded Emmett, Rosalie has since been tentative of Emmett. There's no denying how Emmett has brought life to Rosalie once more; her laughter often fills otherwise comfortable silence and her face is usually adorned with a smile which never fails to reach her eyes. Rosalie struggles with proximity, golden eyes flicker to find Esme whenever she finds herself and Emmett alone in the same room as one another. Rosalie never had to ask— Esme understands in a way neither Carlisle or Edward (regardless of ability) could possibly begin to.

It's raining when Emmett joins her in the kitchen. Usually she can be found experimenting with recipes no-one can eat, or, like today, simply painting. She has the backdoor open, her easel with its back against the open door and just to the side, herself perched on a dining table chair. Esme owns multiple aprons; they are either adorned by cooking stains or paint stains, but Carlisle is always there with a new one, his mouth set in a smirk which she is only privy too.

Despite Emmett's size, Esme didn't hear him slip into the room. It's only when she glances up at her view and is met with his large figure, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, that she realises he's even there. Her startle moves her paintbrush abruptly against canvas, an out-of-place brushstroke staining the otherwise grey of rainclouds. There is an immediate sigh, one that causes Esme to discard her palette and place her paintbrush into the glass of water she has faithfully placed next to her. Emmett's expression changes from his usual smile to that of which Esme can only describe as a boy knowing he's about to be admonished. An immediate grin captures Esme's lips and before he can even begin to apologise, she's put a hand up between them to silence him.

"It's fine... I suppose you're looking for Rosalie?"

And again, his expression changes from guilt to bashful and Esme grins wider.

"Unfortunately for you, she's gone hunting... with Edward of all people, and no, I don't understand either. Hold tight, son, she'll be back before you know it."

This time, Esme is rewarded with Emmett's own grin as he grabs a chair to sit at the table. There is the unmistakeable sound of splintering wood between Emmett's fingers, their eyes meeting with the realisation he's broken a chair, but Esme's quick to reassure, "please do me a favour and help yourself to the rest. I've never liked these chairs. Apparently Carlisle got them for a steal... I can see why."

Assured he's pardoned for his second mistake in less than five minutes, Emmett finally settles. His arms rest across the top of the backrest as he straddles the seat of his chair. For a moment he observes Esme's unfinished painting before rewarding her his attention once more.

"About Rosalie," he begins, gingerly rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks. "Uh, well... uh..."

Esme crosses a leg over the other, amusement playing on her features as she leans back against her chair. She's patient, she can wait for the end of his sentence, but that doesn't mean she can stop an eyebrow from arching in anticipation.

"... Well, uh... you seem close to her, is what I'm trying to say..."

"And?"

"And," he coughs, a fist coming to tap against the palm of his left hand, "I was wondering if she's mentioned me at all?"

Not the question she expects him to ask, but progress nonetheless. Esme tilts her head, her cheeks aching with her grin. "Hmm, well... she's mentioned that you ripped her coat the other day. Apparently it was designer..."

Emmett swallows, his eyes falling to concentrate on rhythmic punching. "Uh, yeah... Carlisle says he can purchase a new one, current season and all," he explains in a flurry, his words contending with each other to get out.

"But—" Emmett's head raises with unmistakeable curiosity. "She's also told me how much she enjoys spending time with you."

"Even with ripped coats?"

"Even with ripped coats, Emmett."

The man finds his grin once more, his hands settling with Esme's confession. That isn't what he came to ask, of course, but it was a good start. Something tells him Esme is half expecting his next question, but it doesn't make it easier to get out. "So... knowing that... I was wondering if you could, uh, maybe tell me what she enjoys?"

There it is.

"If she hasn't mentioned it by now, may I suggest you offer to dismantle a car?" she replies, lazily wiping paint-stained hands against her apron. "And I don't mean by brute force, Emmett. Surely a man such as yourself knows his way around a toolkit? I can say she definitely does."

"Do you really lack that much faith in me?" he retorts, coaxing a laugh from Esme.

"She's also rather fond of perfume," she continues, watching the cogs turn in Emmett's head with every drip of information she feeds him. "Her favourite at the moment is Twenty Carats by Dana. Don't worry, I'll make sure to buy some for you. She doesn't have to know I told you."

Emmett exhales as if blowing through a straw, his fingers curling and uncurling against the palms of his hands. If it wasn't already obvious how he feels, he's sure it is now.

"Anything else?" Esme adds, watching the man piece together various plans in his mind.

Emmett shakes his head, standing as suddenly as he appeared and, in his enthusiasm, completely severs the backrest from the seat. He slowly pushes the now detached backrest towards Esme, her fingers coming grab it with an exasperated sigh, but fondness demonstrated in both her eyes and smile.

"Now, if you'd excuse me, I've got wood to repurpose and you've got a toolkit to find... I think the garage is your best bet."

He offers Esme a faux salute, his excitement palpable amongst the two of them. "Yes, ma'am."

And with that he's gone again like an unseasonal hurricane whirling through the house. Hopefully, the chair is all she has to fix... Esme doesn't even spare a thought for the garage.

When she finally settles once more, paintbrush between fingers, Esme glances up to catch familiar figures approaching the house. Edward's gaze catches that of Esme's and he lopsidedly grins. Rosalie doesn't look particularly happy at Edward's side, but Esme's sure it's nothing a little engine oil won't solve. The plan's in place, now Emmett just has to ask.

[sugar-soda]

You can write about the Reef Trio if you want, Sugar. I'll chime in if I can (it depends what's going or, or how we're doing over here). You know what? Can you ask Wicked if they'd like it if Noi was gifted a weapon fan, that is bladed or super hard, shaped like a shell, with pretty patterns like waves or snowflakes or gem symbols, as their weapon? (Since Noi's gem is cracked)... What ideas did you have for the Reef Trio? I'll chip in a few cents, as it's a bit calmer right now (not by much, but it's now just waiting. He isn't going to wake up again)...

• Ilux (Pale Pearl) sews stuffed gem dolls, and blankets or quilts, with different gem patterns or with different fabrics. The quilts each have a different gem design on the squares, the blankets are fluffy or silky, and the dolls have small bits and bobs (like shells, smooth pebbles, or small rounds of metal or chipped beads) as the gem of the gem dolls...

• Ilux made a blanket fort for the Reef Trio with Noi and Shi's help: it has pillows, dolls, and sewn bags to sleep in

• Ilux painted the main wall of The Reef with pictures of different gems, perhaps telling a story with it

• Ilux uses their spear as a lock-picker and lock-breaker, as a balancing beam, as a staff, as a weapon, and even as large writing utensil sometimes (such as carving into walls or drawing in the sand)

• The Reef Trio have their own special platonic yans (we can discuss which ones everyone attracts, and which ones are shared across the whole trio)

• The Reef Trio end up eating a crab. They like it, and now chase the snow crabs around and eat them. They've also taken to eating some snails and mollusks (even though gems don't need to eat, and most would find it gross) (the Reef Trio like the taste, especially when cooker over a fire or burning rocks)

• Ilux has a habit of collecting gem shards... (the reason for now is unknown)...

Thank you, Sugar, for everything. I hope you're doing well. Thank you for being a friend. You and @thewickedweiner both, and everyone else who interacts with my works. Thank y'all so much 💛🧡

@thewickedweiner what do you think of gifting Noi a fan for weapon?

Here's a few ideas I had:

While Shi is the only Shiva Eye at the Reef, there are quite a few more across the empire. Just like other Gems they got all sorts of different personalities and ways to tell them apart but their color palettes are never very colorful in comparison to other gems like Pearls, mainly being white, brown, and grey.

Since the Reef is located on an ice planet, the only gems it can produce are water based ones that are made under the ice.

Snow storms are pretty frequent there, but luckily Gems don't have blood or flesh that can freeze or can even feel the cold. The trio mainly like blankets and stuff for texture and weight, not for warmth. (When that world ending snowstorm happened, it wasn't the snow that shattered the other Gems)

Greek Agate, the gem Shiva Eye previously worked under, belonged to Black Diamond as well. He escaped most of the abuse from Black Diamond because he wasn't on Homeworld often and was considerably high ranking in the court. When Black Diamond disappeared, what few gems he left behind where put under Blue Diamond. It was then he got into an altercation with a Jasper belonging to Green Diamond and was subsequently shattered.

Shiva tried to eat a crab, shell and all, before they figured out how to cook it. It pinched her tongue and wouldn’t let go for 10 minutes.

Since her shields are attached to her hands, she can do as much with them as Ilux can with their spear, but she does sometimes use them to 'sled' on inclines to get places faster. She looks a little awkward in the frog pose she has to do when zipping down a snow bank, but she looks like she is having fun?

Shiva's fighting style involves her using the weight of her shields to get momentum into her hits, relying more on her dexterity than straight, controlled punches that rely on strength. It looks like the shields are pulling her like a ragdoll with how they swing.

While she has been the only Gem in the trio to not have any damage to her gem, she has been poofed on multiple occasions.

Since she kinda goes everywhere in the Reef, she is actually on pretty good terms with the other gems there, like the corals and such.

Was one of the first to notice that the upcoming snowstorm was different than the others as one of the random duties she picked up was monitoring the weather patterns, which showed heavy irregularities for weeks. Sadly, she isn't part of security monitoring, or she may have noticed other irregularities.

Has briefly met or seen some of the yans before, though she doesn't remember. There was the Black Jasper(97 Logan) from Green Diamond's Court that shattered Greek Agate. There was an Ivory and Spinel (both Morphs) from the same court who were also there. There was a Yellow Jasper (WATXM Sabretooth) and an Opal (XMCU Mystique) from the Red Diamond Court who scared the crap out of her one time, and a Sodalite (one of the Kurts) who poofed her one time by accident when he was training (he was very apologetic about it, he didn't mean to)

While she assumes she was assigned to serve the Reef as a whole, she was actually assigned to one gem: Noi, who is higher ranking than her. But she isn't aware of this and you wouldn't know watching how they interact with each other. ( @thewickedweiner you can decide if Noi is aware of this or not)

Shiva can pilot a ship, or any other vehicle used by gem kind. The others don't know she can as it's literally never came up, but she can.

Just like how she has been poofed before, she has also poofed other gems.

Hope you are doing okay, @honey-minded-hivemind! You get rest and focus on yourself. Have some headcannons!

[theloganator101]

Sorry to pester you again so soon, but I saw your character redesign posts and I'd like to pitch in my thoughts about Charlie and Vaggie's new designs.

For Charlie, I feel like she looks so much better without her jacket. For one, the jacket just makes her figure look weird, kind of like a stick. It makes her body look disproportionate to her head. The button up shirt fits her a lot better, especially because it contrasts her red pants well. The lighter red/pinkish color in the pilot I could take or leave, but I just really like her shirt and suspenders idk why. Also, the braid/ponytail her hair is in looks... Awkward. Idk what it is about it, I just think it could be drawn better.

For Vaggie, I really do think that pastel pink and gray really worked for her in the pilot. I think the "hotel" look of her current design with that color scheme would do her well. I also like the pink tips of her hair in the pilot. Vaggie's current design is really boring because it feels like it matches Charlie's too much

Oh it's no trouble at all!

As for your ideas, I really like it! I would also like to say my own spin on how I would design them.

Charlie: I feel despite being distant from her dad, she would still take inspiration from him in the way he dresses. like give her a flowing blazer and an apple hair tie, I would even redesign her hair to look more like a mix of both her parents. Like still keep her bang while having it somewhat flow. And hell, let her have horns like Lilith did in one of the family photos!

Vaggie: Honestly for her I would've let her keep her hair short, because for being a fighter, she SHOULD know that the number one rule with fighting is to at least keep your hair up or have it short! That way your opponent won't think to pull on it. And I said before white/shades of grey feels more like her color so I would have that be her color palette while adding in elements from both her pliot and current design.

[glitterpensupremacy]

Since I’m officially a year older now, I figured I’d share my growth as an artist with y’all. True GlitterPenSupremacy followers will know that I had to redesign my redesign (hehe) of Viperion, but he isn’t the first MTS character I didn’t nail on the first try. Here’s a few others that I had to reredesign (and a bit about why)

Art below the cut! ⬇️

This one is a special instance, since I technically haven’t redesigned her yet, but it’s an idea I had for a civilian Zoe design. Basically I don’t really like the colors anymore (and her proportions are off) so I’ll be reworking it. The final design will probably still go with the orange stars, but it’ll look different.

Of all the characters I’ve reredesigned, I think she was probably the most decent to begin with. Other than her features being a bit blurry, her biggest issue is that her costume is basically just a recolor of her Miracubug one (and while I do like that version of her design, it just doesn’t fit in with the MTS cast of character designs).

The OG Carapace design was me trying to make an intimidating character, but accidentally leaving him too bland looking. The fullbody suit and lack of hair just wasn’t doing it (plus he needed more variety in his color palette beyond shades of green).

I thought Ladybug was pretty good at the time, but when viewing her design (both on its own and in contrast to her partner), it definitely needed more. Adding another shade of red (and the cute little neon clovers) was absolutely necessary.

Yeah his color scheme and details are kinda lame in comparison to modern MTS designs, and his hair also feels a bit basic, but let’s be real, the biggest offender, (BY FAR) was his proportions. Like who is that??? Certainly not Ivan! I had to fix his shape so it actually looked like the character.

Polymouse had a lot of the same issues as Minotaurox. Mid detailing, generic color scheme (especially with Pigment around: Mylene needed more than just pink, grey, and white), an uninspired hairstyle, and most importantly WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE THAT?!?!?! She needed her proportions fixed to match her actual body type.

Other than her eyes needing to be pink like Daizzi’s, the general vibe I was going for with Pigment changed, and I needed to give her a new costume to reflect that. (This design is decent, but not MTS-worthy and doesn’t really show what kind of hero Pigment is.)

This is a pretty old design (made in ‘22!) so there were a lot of things I needed to rework. I’d say the main thing was Greyhound’s personality changing from his initial design. When I first conceptualized Greyhound MTS, I kinda figured he’d have the same personality as Felix, just being a superhero (and maybe a tad less formal). Nowadays he’s a lot more of the sweet but shy puppy type (a lot of Felix’s softer and “not professional” emotions get repressed as a civilian, and kinda leak out as Greyhound). I needed his new design to represent that. Now he fits his power (he had the concept of Devotion and healing powers) and age (14) much better than his OG design.

My first ML design! You can see a lot about my skills and confidence from this drawing. I was heavily trying to mimic the Miracubug style (with Night Light’s design basically being ML Vesperia as a Firefly and also me altering all the pet peeves I had with VP’s design) despite that not really fitting my skills as an artist. Plus I just wasn’t as good at detailing back then. This is why the modern Night Light design is essentially just a glow-up of the old one (with the fluffier hair, baggier clothes, and black retinas being the main objectives of the design). I also got better at communicating personality through my designs (well, that, and I wasn’t too sure what NL’s personality would be at first). Like Greyhound, I think the newer design looks far more her age!

And that’s (probably) all of them! Hopefully this was interesting to y’all (and if it wasn’t, well, I’m gonna justify my self indulgence with the Birthday Card). I’ve actually got a new hero design or two in the works, so if you’re interested, keep your eyes peeled 👀

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

Annabeth Chase!! For The Ask Game 🙌 love your thoughts!

hii @emilia9622 👋! Thanks for the ask! (thanks Emmy I like your thoughts too)

Three facts about them from my personal headcanon: Her outfit colour palette is white orange and grey, she is the architect of her own home with percy, and that she is an extrovert.

one reason why they suck: what do you mean? she's perfect 🫶

Top otps with them: percy (OBVIOUSLY), piper (I can't help it i love them), nobody else.

one reason i relate to them: easily jealous

five things that should have happened to them: should have studied in a top notch new york college and not some local small college in new rome (you can say they studied in ny and moved to New rome later on in life), her being an architect of olympus having more celebration in the books, more of her relationship with animals, let her parents stay without redemption, more expansion of her angst in botl-tlo because THATS A LOT TO UNPACK

five people they will never fall in love with: GABE (yes I've come across disturbing fanfics of these two), connor (i hate the concept of connabeth with my life, I even blocked the tag), jason (I saw somebody arguing that they should have had a love triangle, but jason was too perfect for her), THALIA (SISTERS), grover (goat)