#twas a Very fun challenge

[bloodpen-to-paper]

There's so many but these are 3 moments that stood out to me

Because there was so much going on, this one felt underrated to me but the reveal during the Happy Pills arc where Forever tells Philza that Pac is getting "treated" right at that moment. Swear to god I damn near stopped breathing, you could hear a pin drop. There was that feeling of shock, and then the panic set in as Phil started checking to see if Pac was online while frantically messaging Fit to try and intervene. Chills.

Honestly the whole Happy Pills arc will live in my head rent free until I die, but one moment I loved was the calm after the storm, when Forever and Pac were cured. The group started sitting around on the beach waiting for Forever to wake up, just talking and taking a moment to finally breath. It was a very human moment.

Pretty much all the big instances of the Codes really ramping up their attacks were notable; Quackity and Bad protecting Tallulah and Chayanne, or Philza, Fit and Forever trying to save Tallulah, etc. But I'll never forget Foolish vs the Code. Right before it Vegetta fought the Code to protect Leo (and Foolish) and kicked its ass, but the Code came back after he logged off leaving Foolish and Leo undefended. Foolish was desperately trying to keep Leo alive and shouting at her to use her warp not knowing it wasn't working. We viewers also didn't know, we just knew Leo was in danger and she wasn't warping out, it was stressful lmao. Him and Leo struggled but they were just able to stay alive, and we all let out the biggest collective sigh of relief when it was over.

Now I'm curious, cause I personally have my top 3 best qsmp scenes, and I'm curious to know what would be the top 3 from the rest of you guys look like

Mine is like

- The argument between Cellbit and Forever on the happy pills

- Cellbit delivering a book to Richas before the feds took him

- Forever hiding the happy pills under his fireplace

[maintitle]

I want to talk a little bit about the Morrigan/Mythal situation, because I've seen a lot of people talk about how Morrigan chose Mythal and chose that power and therefore this is her life and her ultimate evolution and generally just dismissing what happens to her after Mythal rejoins her as a natural evolution of the character, girlboss, ect. I don't want to be dismissive of that take because it can be one that is easily taken without reflection, but I do think it terribly misunderstands the nature of Flemeth and Morrigan's relationship and the methods by which she was very carefully raised.

So let's talk about Morrigan, how she was groomed and abused, and the training she took great pride in that was ultimately weaponized against her by design. Let's also talk about the great pains the game goes through in order to sidestep these issues, and by doing so leaving a much better story on the cutting room floor in order to make a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that misses the depth of their relationship entirely.

I'd like to say at the jump that the fusion of Morrigan and Mythal isn't a story I'm resistant too. I assumed this was the direction they would go and I truly think there was some fascinating storytelling to be had that expanded upon the themes already present in both. But I also think the Veilguard writers either misunderstand the exact nature of how Morrigan was raised, or needed to ignore it in order for Morrigan to serve as a vessel for Mythal in order to serve Solas' story (an issue I have with her use in this game in general, but that's for another post.)

The most revealing conversation that I think Morrigan has in regards to Flemeth is actually one that occurs very early in Origins. I think it's juxtaposition with other scenes is important;

Morrigan: "My Mother has been hunted from time to time, yes. My Templar fools like Alistair, which should tell you how successful they generally were. Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact. The Templars would come again and she would look at me and smile and say that the fun was to begin once more."

Warden: "You really had no trouble with them?

Morrigan: "I am unsure. I was too young to understand, and perhaps 'twas bravado on Flemeth's part. Or perhaps she was merely amused. I will never know. Flemeth would warn them, once. 'Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed." Morrigan: "And then the true game began. Often Flemeth would use me as bait." She giggles in amusement. "A little girl to scream, and run, and lure the templars deeper into the wilds and to their doom."

Warden: "Flemeth used you as bait?"

Morrigan: "'Twas a game, and I a young girl. If I didn't get to play, I would have been very upset."

This is a really important example, not just of how callously Morrigan was trained to kill when she was challenged at such a young age, but also because it exemplifies how Flemeth taught her. There's an assumption that Flemeth simply yelled and screamed at Morrigan her entire childhood, and that was true in places, but Flemeth was very crafty in how she presented the lessons that she felt were necessary for Morrigan to have.

A bit further into the conversation;

Warden: "Do you still think it was fun?" Morrigan: "I think that my Mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear. And I think it was necessary."

Interestingly, if you don't agree with this assessment, Morrigan ends the conversation very suddenly.

The point of highlighting both of these conversations isn't necessarily to outline the casual and cruel abuse, but instead to show how sinister Flemeth's teaching methods were. She treated a child with kindness and the warmness of a friend or Mother when it suited the needs of Morrigan's lessons, but when she broke out and did something that would endanger those teachings, she violently lashed out, as is evident with the mirror scene.

These juxtapositions are important when you look at who Morrigan becomes as an adult, and why she's sent away during the Blight at all. As we know, it was Flemeth's plan all along for Morrigan to offer the ritual before the battle with the Archdemon, but Morrigan posits that it's now her making those decisions and not her Mother. This is highlighted by the line;

Morrigan: "Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will."

If we jump ahead a bit to Inquisition, this thought process is expanded on a lot more, in a lot more detail, highlighting the philosophy in Mythal's temple;

Morrigan: "There is... a danger to the natural order. Legends walked Thedas once, things of might and wonder. Their passing has left us all the lesser. Corypheus would squander the ancient power of the well. I would have it restored"

Inquisitor: "I wasn't expecting your answer to be so... romantic."

Morrigan: "Trust me. Your surprise is matched only by my own." Sigh. "Mankind blunders through the world, crushing what it does not understand: Elves, dragons, magic... the list is endless. We must stem the tide or be left with nothing more than the mundane. This I know to be true."

On a surface level, this can be seen as an evolution of who she was in Origins and what she believed then. I can see how that mistake might be made, and I can see how that thought process can lead to accidentally mistaking Veilguard's reply to it as being that same evolution. But if we look at the Dark Ritual, we see this is an opinion based within the philosphy she was always taught by Flemeth.

In order to expand on that, we can actually look to the comics, in the little-explored character of Yavana, sister of Morrigan.

I want to stress first we don't TRULY know much about Yavana. History implies she's a figure out of Antivan legend going back multiple ages, but it's sort of impossible to know if that's true or if it's even her and not a previous Witch Of The Wilds, or even a previous host of Mythal. I hesitate, therefor, to truly assume what her relationship with her Mother was like, however I will very carefully put forward that, based on what little dialogue we have of her, she may be a 'failed' daughter of Flemeth that Mythal deemed unworthy, as she knows about Mythal inhabiting her daughters, see's it as Flemeth does, and seems somewhere between disapointed and jealous in the fact that Morrigan seems to misunderstand that. (I'm not really here to run back the whole Origins possession versus Inquisition's and now Veilguard's 'a soul is not hefted on the unwilling, because frankly it doesn't really weigh in on the point being made here as much as you'd suspect, as you'll see.) But this assumption is questionable, and might be both wrong and not relevant to the issue, if perhaps fairly telling.

What we DO know about her for certain is that she was raised by Flemeth, and at some point moved to Antiva in order to nurture and preserve the return of Dragons to Thedas. Her actual wording of this point, I think, is so telling of FleMythal as a character that I almost wish it wasn't hidden away in the comics;

This is, nearly verbatim, the same message Morrigan gives both in short in Origins before the Dark Ritual, and in much more detail in the Temple Of Mythal in Inquisition. I also find Alistair's response to this INCREDIBLY telling, as one of Alistair's great talents is seeing through people;

While I think the phrasing is very purposefully dismissive and flippant, I don't think the sentiment is totally off base. It actually leads me into the entire thesis of this post, and an aspect of this relationship that some fans and even writers seem to blatantly miss;

The preservation of the old magic is not Morrigan's dream. The preservation of magic is what Morrigan was raised to value most in the world by her abuser.

To illustrate this, let's look at Morrigan's arc in Inquisition, and what it's actually saying about her and Flemythal; The cycle of abuse.

Mythal's Temple is a story about Morrigan and the folly of pride, certainly, but it's also a character arc of a woman who was very carefully raised to HAVE that pride. This isn't an assumption I have made based on evidence, Flemeth outright says it in DA2;

Hawke: "Is (Morrigan) someone I should know?" Flemeth: "She's a girl who thinks she knows what is what better than I, or anyone." Chuckle. "And why not? I raised her to be as she is. I cannot expect her to be less!"

This is, to be, the smoking gun of Flemeth's entire method of teaching and parenting. She is incredibly adept at training flaws into her daughters, pride being the greatest of them. More than that, she's very talented at imparting just enough knowledge that they think they know everything, while also holding back vast amounts of it in order to stay in control.

The Temple Of Mythal is one of the crowning achievements of that. While you can't exactly expect Mythal to have known that's where Morrigan would end up (although Morrigan certainly questions if she knew it would happen), it really hardly matters if she knew or not. Morrigan was raised from birth in order to make the exact decision she made at the Temple. The preservation of what might be lost is such a core part of her being that she can't escape it... and more than that, she can't fathom it being a negative trait. To her, it's a holy calling.

I'm going to pull out the most direct conversation of abuse Morrigan documents now, not to pile on more evidence, but instead because I think it's a more effective conversation to use as juxtaposition of why she thinks that than I could make myself;

Leliana: They say your mother is Flemeth, a witch of the Korcari Wilds. Morrigan: They also say that washing your feet in winter makes you catch cold in the head, but we all know that is not true. But sometimes they are right and they are right in this. Leliana: You know the stories about-- Morrigan: Of course. You think my mother would let me go without telling me all the stories of her youth? Leliana: My mother told me stories too. She was the one who kindled my love of the old tales and legends. Morrigan: Hmph. my mother's stories curdled my blood and haunted my dreams. No little girl wants to hear about the Wilder men her mother took to her bed, using them till they were spent, then killing them. No little girl wants to be told that this is also expected of her, once she comes of age. Leliana: I... uh... I see. Morrigan: No, you don't. You really don't.

This is the environment Morrigan grew up in. She was exposed to Flemeth taking advantage of men, she was exposed to gruesome murder both as a game and in casual moments. Any attempt she made to take self-possession or grow as a person was aggressively curtailed and broken. This was a girl so afraid of her home life that, for many years, she spent as much time as she could living amongst the animals of the forest, and escaping her home life.

Now, imagine; This same abusive woman gives you positive reinforcement. You're a child, and you crave that attention like any child would of their Mother, and you know that reinforcement comes when you're an attentive and talented student. The closest you ever are with your Mother is when you're taking in everything she has to teach you, so it becomes the center of your life. Soon, it's not just a method by which to be close to your Mother, but a core tenant in your life. They stay with you as a fascination, as something you take pride in, as a holy crusade even as you escape your abuser and move on into a happier version of your life where you've grown and matured, where you've seemingly broken the cycle.

Now, imagine the discovery that those few, core, good memories you have were horribly tainted. The lessons you were taught were cyclical, a method by which to control you and gather that which she needs. Your life goal, your career, your passion was entirely made in order to benefit the abuser you've run from your entire life. Imagine who devastating that would be.

That's what happened at the Temple Of Mythal. That was the pride that Flemeth trained into Morrigan, the path by which she wanted her to evolve. She seized that opportunity, and that opportunity either tied her to her abuser forever, and/or told her abuser where she and her son was after years of protecting him from her.

Everything you know, everything you are, everything you've protected... is based on a lie.

Morrigan's character arc in Inquisition is her breaking that cycle. 'What Pride Had Wrought' is in reference at least partially to Morrigan's personal journey, where that pride, that passion, is something she recklessly seizes on because to her it is good and right and just and hers by nature, and it is that pride that was so ingrained into her by her abuser that she watches tear her son away from her and into the hands of said abuser.

In that moment, when she's faced by everything that her pride could lose her, she is forced to reckon with everything she has ever believed, and in the face of her greatest fear... she chooses to break the cycle of abuse. She chooses to assure that her son is safe.

The most obvious quote to be in this write-up;

Flemythal: "As you wish. Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never interfere with or harm you again. Or, keep the lad with you... and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due." Morrigan: "He returns with me." Flemythal: "Decided so quickly?" Morrigan: "Do whatever you wish. Take over my body now, if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the Mother you were to me."

This is obviously Morrigan's most famous line, but I actually am not sure if folks understand the truth depth of it; This is not only breaking the cycle of abuse and freeing her son of it, but she's also going against every natural instinct that was bred into her. This woman, the girl that was raised to lure men to their deaths for fun, who's most crucial life lesson was to do anything in order to survive... accepts she will never be safe again. She accepts the possibility of constant danger just to keep her son safe a day longer, a sacrifice her Mother would have never made for her.

This was a possible full culmination of her story. And Veilguard... sort of ignores the meaning of it by giving undo attention to Flemeth's head tilt.

I want to take a moment to preface this next section by saying that I was in no way resistant to the idea of Morrigan being possessed by Mythal in Veilguard. I in fact expected it and was excited by the possibility. There was a really brilliant way to handle the situation even within the parameters of how the game handled it, but the developers chose instead to dismiss this situation in a few lines so that they could instead focus on Mythal, and her relationship with Solas.

I don't want to outright insult the writers here. Veilguard was a game I greatly enjoyed. But I do want to say this because I find it deeply regressive, and I also find the decisions that were made were a symptom of this issue; Morrigan is not in Veilguard for her own character. Morrigan is in Veilguard because she is a convenient vessel through which to explore a character that has much more importance to the main antagonist. This is already slightly regressive because it's two characters largely only serving the plot of one male character, but I find it most troubling because the character they use her for is her own abuser, and by paying as little attention to that as possible while also barely using Morrigan herself as a character, it creates a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that... doesn't work as presented.

From her scene in the Crossroads after finding all of Solas' regrets;

Morrigan: "When I learned she intended me to become the next receptacle of an ancient god's soul, I feared naught would be left of my own. It inevitably came to pass on a deep night: I was awakened by the presence of a blaze of magic in the shape of a woman who both was, and was not, my Mother."

Rook: "I don't think I'd recover from that."

Morrigan: "Neither did I, at the start. Mythal's memories were both gift and burden, this blazing woman told me, but I must accept them of my own accord. The decision was paralyzing. What would it mean to become such a host? What would be lost if I refused? In the end, 'twas something in my Mother's voice which guided me."

Rook: "What was that?"

Morrigan: "Regret. Not the regret of a God, but of a Mother who knew she would never see me again. And so my mind remains my own. What I gained was knowledge... both Mythal's, and of those who bore her."

I think you can see where the problem lies, but let me reiterate:

Morrigan was a child of abuse. That abuse was calculated, both in how she treated her aggressively and how she gave her affection. Her methods of teaching, of raising a child, were there entirely to teach that child to continue on the legacy of Mythal. The preservation of magic was imbued very carefully into Morrigan and Yavana both in order to gather and save aspects of the ancient elves, and in order to prepare them to carry Mythal's soul. Pride was a weakness trained into them from childhood, and their lofty goal of protecting ancient magic was a weapon to be wielded in order to control them. This was a cycle Morrigan first discovered in Inquisition and began to fight against, because she wanted to break the cycle of abuse for the sake of her son.

In this game, Morrigan took on the memories of Flemythal... in order to preserve ancient magic that must be protected so that it is not lost. An instinct given to her by her Mother... in order to be used as a weapon... so that one day she would take on the soul of Mythal.

I want to be clear, I am not opposed to this storyline. I'm not going to yell 'That's problematic, you can't write that!' or 'That's a regression of her character!' because I think it's a fascinating direction to take both their characters.

The problem to me isn't that they went down this pretty natural path, the problem is they did it by... sidestepping any negative parts of how this would affect Morrigan. They sidestepped the fact that the reason she accepted her was largely because of something that Flemythal trained into her and weaponized against her, and the writing treats it as... a difficult moment that eventually brought her peace.

I think this is most exemplified in the aspect of Mythal's soul that remains in the Crossroads. As a concept some are saying it's arbitrary considering how Flemythal saved herself inside of an amulet in Origins/DA2, but I think that's lacks context. It's clear Mythal couldn't prepare this time, because she didn't expect Solas to murder her. Her soul, while saving itself, fractured into pieces. I'm definitely willing to defend that choice.

The problem, I think, is more that the fracturing is seemingly mostly used as a way to sidestep how Mythal's soul fully joining Morrigan would change this scenario. Morrigan's ultimate fear was becoming one with the soul of Mythal, so in order to avoid that they've attempted to only give Morrigan the memories of Flemythal while also seemingly leaving her unchanged as a character.

My issue with this thought process, first and foremost, is that it prevents them from exploring a much better story that has the chance of presenting a much better payoff as a story of an abused child coming to terms with her Mother. It removes the chance of Morrigan's possession being a major character arc, one that would further what she went through in Inquisition while also offering Flemythal a pathway toward an understanding with her daughter so that that ending could still be explored, in order to get to where they want to truly get to as fast as possible, which is using Morrigan as an agent for Mythal's forgiveness in order to fulfill Solas' character arc.

Imagine a more fleshed out version of this story, one where Morrigan had more of a presence within it. Over time, as you discover more about Mythal out through those flashbacks, you begin to realize something is... off about Morrigan. Her unique way of talking has slowly changed, her more sarcastic and poetic tone drips away in favor of Flemythal's more loose, jovial, sometimes playful but always pointed and aggressive tone. The player is prepared to pick up on that, but Rook isn't. Things eventually come to a head where Mythal has to reveal herself, likely as an aggressor similar to how she's handled in the Crossroads, and Morrigan is actually allowed to exist within this presentation. She sneaks through occasionally. The magic of the crossroads allows her moments of clear headedness. She reflects that she accepted her Mother's soul out of that fear, and that it's begun to change her, that she's scared of what she's losing, and even more frightened of how she's coming to understand her Mother. Conflict occurs and if you've reached Morrigan, she fights against Mythal's influence and regains control enough to fracture them just enough to have to come head-to-head, where you can guide them through decades of conflict to a mutual understanding or forgiveness through this bond they have, help Morrigan fully overcome Mythal, or help Mythal dominate Morrigan. Ideally, you'd have the ability to either remove Mythal's essence from Morrigan forcefully with an 'I reject you!' scene, or you can have your moment of forgiveness where the Flemeth side of Mythal removes herself from Morrigan, perhaps into the idol you use for Solas at the end.

But that's not what they did. What they chose to do, I think, is to sidestep a difficult issue, a problem this game does tend to have. I'm not entirely sure if they didn't quite grasp Morrigan's relationship with her Mother, or felt they were forced to gloss over it either because of the world state issue or their need to use Mythal, but the decision they came to is not an acceptable payoff to that story.

The truth of the matter is, this version of the stories' either inability to explore this issue in full or it's misunderstanding of it greatly hurts the characterization and misses a massive chance at more impactful storytelling. And that, to me, is the most damning creative decision of the entire game.

[sunshinebingo]

Hello hello @velarisbynight! I'm your secret Santa 🎅 I'm so glad to have you as a new friend thanks to @acotargiftexchange. Interacting with you was so fun. I loved rummaging through your wonderful responses to learn more about you and also to create this gift for you.

It was great to combine Gwynlain with the "fluff, magic and happy endings" that you and I like so much. I really hope that you like your gift. Merry Christmas dear 🎁 and also to anyone who stumble across this fic ♥️

Synopsis: Winter Solstice is a magical time that is best celebrated with loved ones. It is a time of hope and renewal; often also of surprises. These are particularly true for Elain and Gwyn who, for three consecutive years, will experience how special Solstice can be.

Word count: 2.6k

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Twas the night of Solstice, when Gwyneth Berdara stepped foot inside the River House for the very first time. Gifts for everyone that she had been told by Nesta would be present were piled up in her arms up to her nose. Each of them were wrapped in colourful, patterned papers and ribbons that she thought matched their recipients quite well. She didn’t know all of them personally and had had to dig for a few information about them and their tastes. She wanted to thank them for their gracious invitation into their found family. Hence why she had taken it as a challenge to offer them something they would hopefully appreciate.

She still found it hard to believe that she had been given a second chance in this life at feeling like she was part of a family. First, Nesta and Emerie, her sisters in everything but blood. Then Cassian and Azriel who had become like brothers to her, even if they sometimes scolded her like the father she never had for apparently having too little consideration for her own safety and well-being. Even Rhysand and Feyre were turning out to be her close friends after all the times she had sat with them at the House of Wind, everyone present eating and talking about everything and nothing.

Gwyn was so grateful to them that the excitement was slightly overtaking the fear of meeting the rest of the inner circle. Just slightly.

There was a fluttering inside her, similar to the first few times she had ventured out of the library. Like butterflies coming out of their slumber. She only hoped that they would stay inside and not crawl up her throat and cause her to embarrass herself by stealing away her voice. Or worse, that they led her to choke and pass out.

She followed Nesta, Cassian and Azriel through the foyer, her steps much slower as she admired the sheer size and beauty of every corner she could glimpse of the house. It was like the High Lord’s and Lady’s home had been plucked right out of a Winter Solstice tale. White walls lined with paintings and a few wreaths similar to the one on the front door filling the empty spaces; green garlands strung to the handrails of the big staircase; strings of faelight glowing a soft yellow here and there. A few of the lights flickered at Gwyn’s focus on them, her magic attuned to any source of light and heat which sometimes caused a little reaction even without her conscious doing.

Gwyn followed the others as they walked through a door past which she could already see a massive table that had been set with ivory plates, crystal glasses and a green and red centrepiece made of pine leaves, holly and a few candles that hadn’t yet been lit.

She looked up as she walked, admiring a small bunch of mistletoe that delicately hung above the door, a bright red ribbon tied in the most beautiful bow around it, and with a tiny gold bell in the centre. It was such a little detail in this massive house yet her eyes lingered on this tiniest bouquet the longest, her thoughts drifting towards the tradition that accompanied it. Was there anyone in Prythian who would wish to stand under it with her? Would there ever be someone who she would wish to –

“Oof,” Gwyn let out at the same time as she heard someone loudly gasp.

She abruptly fell backwards, her gift boxes flying, before she landed hard on her behind which was fortunately cushioned by the thick white sweater dress she wore. The gift boxes fell on the floor with loud thuds, along with some children’s toys that she hadn’t been carrying.

“I’m so, so sorry,” said the one who had also taken a fall and was now sprawled on the floor in front of her.

Gwyn looked at the source of the voice. Her teal eyes locked onto warm brown, doe like ones.

“I was in such a rush to put this mess away that I didn’t look if there was someone in front of me.”

The lips that spoke those words were small and plump, painted in a soft shade of pink that matched the powder the female had dusted on her cheeks. Her pale complexion flushed in the same way Gwyn suspected hers was doing as well.

“It’s alright,” she reassured the female with a little laugh. “It’s my fault. I was so enthralled by this place that I didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

They both stared at each other for a moment. Until something fell right between them with a little chime. It was the mistletoe.

Gwyn reached out her hand to grab it but bumped with the female’s hand instead. They both pulled away with a surprised, “Oh!”

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.

“I –”

“I –”

Their gazes were fixed on each other again. Then, they both burst into a laugh. The butterflies fully awoke and flew in circles inside Gwyn, making her momentarily forget that she had been nervous.

“Let’s just blame this entire disaster on this mistletoe,” Gwyn said.

“Alright,” the female agreed when she also stopped laughing. “I’m Elain by the way.”

Gwyn’s eyes widened in recognition. Of course it was the Archeron sister she hadn’t yet met. She could see it now. The rounder cheeks and larger eyes that Nesta had described. And the soft and gentle energy that Feyre had mentioned her elder sister always seemed to carry. Gwyn saw it in her beautiful facial features that were even more radiant thanks to her smile.

Even her outfit complimented the light in her. The heart shaped neckline of her sage embroidered dress accentuated her small breasts before flaring out at her waist. A poinsettia pulled one side of her hair up, leaving the rest of her long golden-brown hair to fall down her back and over one of her shoulders in soft, shiny ringlets.

Gwyn had taken some time before coming tonight to pull her straight hair up in a half ponytail and to apply a little makeup. But she was certain that she was nowhere as pretty as Elain looked in this moment.

Gwyn stood up and smoothed her dress over her black tights before extending a hand to Elain.

“Hi. I’m Gwyn.”

Elain gasped. But her surprise quickly disappeared and she beamed up at her. She took her offered hand and rose, adjusting her own dress and sheer sleeves. Gwyn towered over her even with the small heels she wore.

“I am glad to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you from my sisters,” Elain said.

“Really?” Gwyn asked, perplexed and amused.

Elain nodded with a bashful smile. She remembered then, as she looked at those eyes that seemed to be seeing more than Gwyn ever could with hers, that Elain was a seer. A rare and beautiful power possessed by an equally beautiful female.

They both began picking up everything that was still on the floor, their fingers brushing every time they passed an item from one to the other.

“Well, I was also looking forward to finally meeting you,” Gwyn admitted.

It was nice to finally put a face on all the things she had heard from the others about Elain. It was even better to think that, perhaps, the middle Archeron sister could grow to become another friend of hers.

“Gwyn,” Nesta called from inside the dining room. The one that Gwyn had yet to walk in. “I was afraid that you chickened out on us at the last minute.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Nes,” she said. Then, looking at Elain, she added, “Especially not now. I need to know what lies they told you about me.”

Elain giggled, the sound as sweet as the songs of the birds in Spring.

“Let me put my nephew’s toys away and I’ll tell you all about it,” Elain answered conspiratorially.

Gwyn acquiesced with a smile. She placed the final item that wasn’t hers on a blue bat plushie that Elain was holding and balanced her pile of gifts in her arms once again. Elain looked at the mistletoe.

“I don’t think this one is very good at it’s job,” Gwyn muttered to her in a fake accusatory tone aimed at the mistletoe.

“Perhaps it did on purpose,” Elain muttered back.

Gwyn laughed. Her fear faded a little more, leaving more room for hope and anticipation for the evening.

“I’ll join you all in a minute,” Elain said.

She walked towards the stairs while Gwyn followed Nesta. Their gazes held until they were both out of sight of each other.

Elain stood at the kitchen counter, checking through her mental list that she hadn’t forgotten anything in the assortment of appetisers that she had meticulously displayed on various trays. Mini sandwiches and rolls, various cheeses and charcuterie, a few dips with crunchy rice cake and crisps, cherry tomatoes, and even salted caramel apples and ripe blueberries. She doubted that there was someone out in the sitting room who wouldn’t enjoy at least one of those things.

She hoped that Emerie and Gwyn, the only two that she hadn’t yet fed until tonight, would like her cooking, the appetisers as well as dinner and dessert later.

There was an odd feeling inside Elain as she thought of her interaction with the redhead. Not a bad one at all. Just...a strange buzzing inside her. Similar to the subtle tingles she felt in her body as her mind adjusted from dream to reality.

Elain had seen glimpses of Gwyneth Berdara in a few visions before. It had always been blurry and unclear in their meaning. Copper hair being blown by the wind, freckles carelessly scattered on pale skin, a heavenly voice singing and laughing... She had always pushed it aside as the Mother showing her what she couldn’t see of Nesta’s life and the bonds she had created.

But earlier, when Gwyn had introduced herself, there had been something there that had brought forth images from those visions to Elain’s mind. She had been so caught up in the present moment that she had not stop to think about those images.

But they had come again when she had found herself alone, hastily putting away Nyx’s toys in the nursery. This time they had been brighter and louder, yet, more than ever, they confused her. Like a blend of scents that she couldn’t pick apart to tell the individual elements in them. Elain didn’t even know if it was her magic being capricious or just Gwyn being the cause of it.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Gwyn strolled through the door carrying two glasses of champagne in which floated a few cranberries.

“Do you need any help in here?” she asked with a smile.

Elain smiled back. “I’m almost done. I don’t want to bother you.”

The glasses hit the marbled countertop with a clink when Gwyn placed them down.

“Nonsense.” She waved a hand with a roll of her eyes.

She picked up a rice cake before dipping it in one of the ceramic bowls. She brought it to her mouth and moaned around a mouthful.

“I think this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Elain blinked at her words, realising that she had been staring at her lips the whole time.

“Really? Thank you.” She looked down, her cheeks getting warm, and realigned things on the trays that were already perfectly placed. “It’s actually the first time that I’ve made baba ganoush.”

“Baba who?” Gwyn asked.

Her confused tone and expression made Elain giggle.

“Baba ganoush. It’s an appetiser from Dawn Court,” she explained. “I found the recipe in a cookbook. It’s one aubergine cut in half and cooked facedown at 180 Celsius for 40 minutes with some oil. Then slicing down the middle and scooping out the insides. Add two teaspoons of tahini, three teaspoons of yoghurt, a dash of lemon juice and two cloves of crushed garlic into a bowl and mix before setting it to cool.”

Gwyn looked down at her inquisitively. As though she was taking mental notes and filing the information on the correct shelf in her head.

“I am terrible at cooking but I’ll keep that recipe in mind for when I wake up someday and am magically good at it,” she said earnestly.

She picked up the knife that was on a nearby chopping board along with the salami, the last item missing from the trays, and began cutting it with astonishing ease and speed.

“Look at you,” Elain exclaimed. “You’re not bad at all.”

Gwyn snorted.

“Trust me, I’m only good at using a knife and not at actually cooking a whole thing. I’m also good with a sewing needle,” she added proudly. Then shrugged. “Basically I’m good with anything that can draw blood.”

Elain laughed. She didn’t think that she had ever met anyone who had made her laugh so much in so little time. What a nice feeling that was, Elain realised. She hoped that it wouldn’t be short lived.

“I’ll be happy to teach you if you want,” she proposed to Gwyn.

She bit her lip, not really understanding where the sudden shyness she felt was coming from. Perhaps it was the fact that Gwyn was the first fae that she was actively choosing as a potential friend. All the others were either the family that she had fallen into thanks to her sisters, or people she had had to interact with through her new work as an emissary, the majority of which were, so far, mostly cordial relationships.

Her closest friends were the twin wraiths, Nuala and Cerridwen. But even with them, she didn’t feel the kind of deep connection like she had seen Nesta have with Emerie and Gwyn. The visions she had had of the Valkyrie who was expertly cutting salami led Elain to trust that perhaps she was meant to branch out more.

Besides, she had heard that Gwyn, like herself, didn’t have a partner. Perhaps having her around would make Elain feel less lonely at family events when all the couples were glued together. Or even when they invited her to their couples’ night just so she wouldn’t feel left out. Females should stick together after all. And single ones should stick even harder.

The sound of the bubbles in the fizzy champagne tickled Elain’s ears in the silence. She dared a look at Gwyn, noticing a light in her teal eyes that was akin to the sun illuminating the frozen surface of the Sidra in the early morning.

“I’ll be happy to learn if it’s from you,” Gwyn replied.

Elain smiled and picked up their glasses. She handed one to Gwyn.

“Is there any food coming soon?” they heard Cassian shout from the other room, followed by an, “Ouch!” that was probably the result of Nesta hitting him.

Gwyn pursed her lips but failed at completely concealing her amusement. The chatter and laughter rose among the group in the sitting area. But Elain decided to ignore them for just a moment longer. What was happening in here felt more important somehow.

“To learning new things.” Elain raised her glass.

“To new friends and mischievous mistletoes,” Gwyn added, causing Elain to laugh once again.

They clinked their glasses in cheers. The champagne tasted sweeter than any Elain ever had before.

Chapter 2...

Twas the morning of Solstice, a year after they first met, when Gwyneth Berdara and Elain Archeron...

See you soon for more 😉

[art-of-the-void]

To Celebrate Shadow milk cookie releasing in a few hours here's a few of my finished and unfinished Shadow milk doodles

I don't remember the original time order for these but here they are

Some stuff about some of them

Doodle 1: twas my first time drawing him, I'm really proud of how it turned out and I twisted my style a bit specifically for this. Twas also the start of me hyperfixating on him. Redrew my favorite sprite of his, specifically because it's titled sing :3

Doodle 2-3: my Christmas drawing of 2024. I usually do a Christmas drawing a year and this one was last year's. Funnily enough it would be my second time drawing something cookie run related for Christmas, last time being in i think 2020 or 2021 it's been awhile. I couldn't decide if I wanted the hats to be blue or red, so I decided to do both. Genius ik.

Doodle 4: I saw a challenge in which you draw your oc in those very bright default Ibispaint colours so I did it with Shadow milk.

Doodle 5: I have a tendency to draw my favorite characters as genshin emotes (I did it with Sebastian Solace too-) so I started with (I think it's) a sethos emote, specifically for whenever I randomly enter my friends and family's DMS or some of the servers I'm in

Doodle 6: another sprite redraw. i believe this was drawn around the time I finished reading the Wind archer and Shadow milk side story. I love it sm.

Doodle 7: my New years drawing (obviously-) wanted to do something silly, I also stole the bg from a cutscene because I'm lazy and I hate drawing backgrounds.

Doodle 8: I was in need of a shadow milk popcorn emote to match my favorite Furina popcorn gif that I use all the time on discord. So I made one :3

Doodle 9: one of my many shadow milk doodle pages that I was drawing while waiting for today. The rest are physically drawn rather than digitally. This actually features one of my OCs I made for fun named Stringed Blueberry milk cookie. I might make a post about her. But ngl she's kinda silly and self indulgent and very canon divergent.

Doodle 10: another doodle page, but before I started my countdown ones. Two are inspired by someone on Tumblr's Shadow milk and Pure Vanilla cozy fall outfits. I don't remember the blog's name rn unfortunately tho. Might edit later to include their name if I find it again.

These aren't all my doodles

However Tumblr has a 10 image limit it would seem so, unfortunately this is as much as I can give atm.

And I'm constantly drawing more

The hyperfixation won't let me go-

Anyway that's all for now

I have to go back to

Well drawing

I'm actually currently working on drawing all my currently owned cookie run kingdom cookies

So I will eventually post those when I read 10 illustrations

I have over 100 so it'll certainly be a lot of posts-

See you then!

[minijenn]

That's How You Know (Commission)

I'm chok full of writing comms today, huh? Anyway this one is for @zexoguy, who wanted a UF songfic, featuring That's How You Know from Enchanted, with a bit of Steven and Mabel trying to help Dipper out of Relationship Troubles with Pacifica. Twas pretty fun to work on, even if I don't really think songfics are my strong suit. Either way, enjoy!

---

“And then she told me that she ‘didn’t want to talk to me right now’, which, ugh!” Dipper groaned as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t get what her problem is! I didn’t even do anything!” 

“Huh,” Steven pondered everything Dipper had just told them. “Weird. I wonder what’s up with her. Maybe she’s just not feeling well?”

“No, it’s not that,” Dipper shook his head. “It’s just… I don’t know, lately it feels like she’s been… expecting something out of me? But she won’t tell me what that something is, and how am I supposed to know if she won’t tell me!”

“Oooooh my gosh,” Mabel shot her brother a baffled look. “I know boys are clueless, but there’s no way you’re this clueless.”

“Huh?” Dipper asked, confused, if not a little offended. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mabel shrugged. “Your relationship is in serious trouble.”

“N-no, it’s not!” Dipper exclaimed, defensive. “We’re just… I-I mean, she’s just-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, give all the lame excuses you want,” Mabel waved him off. “Sounds to me like this is all your fault, bro-bro. Honestly, I don’t know how you didn’t manage to fumble sooner, but I guess it was only a matter of time before you and Pacifica had your first fight.”

“Mabel, what are you talking about?” Dipper scoffed. “We’re not fighting, we’re just-”

“Taking some time apart?” Steven guessed, frowning. 

“N-no!” Dipper insisted, flustered. “Look, she’s just a… little upset that I’ve been too busy to hang out with her lately, but I-”

“Well, there’s your whole problem!” Mabel huffed, hands on her hips. “No wonder Pacifica’s so upset! She’s feeling unappreciated, unloved, by her very own boyfriend! Shame on you for neglecting her emotional needs like that!”

“But I’m not-”

Once again, Dipper found himself cut off, this time by Steven. “Maybe you can smooth things over by showing her how much you love her!”

As much as Dipper thought both of them were off base, he couldn’t help but take pause at that suggestion. Given the strained straits between his and his girlfriend lately, he couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean?”

Steven and Mabel shared a broad smile at this, the kind that Dipper recognized all too well. And as such, he knew exactly what it signified. “Oh no,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t sing-”

“How does she know you love her?” Steven started as he and Mabel sandwiched Dipper between them.

“How does she know she's yours?” Mabel added just as zealously. 

“Stop-” Dipper tried, but it was already far too late now. After all, there was practically no force on earth that could keep Steven and Mabel from a song once they started singing it. 

“How does she know that you love her? How do you show her you love her?”

“How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?”

By now, the pair was already well on their way to dragging Dipper out of the shack along with them. As much as he wasn’t really in the mood for their antics, he still let them lead the way toward town in the shaky hopes that this song might somehow offer some form of genuine advice. Goodness knows he could use all the help he could get right now… even if it came in the form of an annoyingly catchy musical number. 

“It's not enough to take the one you love for granted,” Steven grinned as Lion joined them, allowing him to retrieve his ukulele stored inside his mane so he could strum along. 

Mabel elbowed her brother as she walked alongside him, shooting him a challenging smirk. “You must remind her or she'll be inclined to say-How do I know he loves me?

“(How does she know that you love her?)” Steven echoed as they made their way toward town. “(How do you show her you love her?)”

“How do I know he's mine?”

“(How does she know that you really, really truly love her?)”

It wasn’t long before they arrived in town. Steven and Mabel kept on singing despite the curious glances they got from several passersby. As intriguing as their passionate, bouncy performance was, more than a few of those passersby turned to follow along after the trio, if only to hear more of the tune. 

“Well, does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?”  Steven suggested, and Dipper couldn’t ignore the rush of guilt that filled him when he did. That guilt only grew when Mabel offered up an idea of her own. 

“Send you yellow flowers when the sky is gray?”

“He'll find a new way to show you, a little bit everyday!”

The pair pressed on together, grinning brightly to the point that neither of them noticed the growing frown on Dipper’s face. Because really, they were right, he knew they were. He’d been failing Pacifica lately, in the most simplest of ways, to show her how he really felt. Really, it was no wonder she’d gotten so angry at him; when it came right down to it, he was getting angry at himself for just how blind and ignorant he’d truly been. 

“That's how you know– That's how you know– He's your love!” the pair’s voices rang through the street, but even so they kept going. Much to the delight of the growing crowd gathering around them. 

“You got to show her you need her,” Steven picked up a snappy beat as he continued strumming his ukulele. “Don't treat her like a mind reader-”

“Each day do something to lead her to believe you love her,” Mabel chirped, twirling on her heels. She hooked her arm around Steven’s, stifling a blush of her own as she plucked a handful of flowers out of a storefront pot and performed a fake “wedding march”. 

“Everybody wants to live happily ever after.”

“Everybody wants to know their true love is true.”

Dipper couldn’t help but roll his eyes over how dramatic they were being. Still, he smiled as he took the flowers when Mabel handed them over to him. They’d come in handy later, he hoped. 

“How do you know he loves you?” Steven picked the chorus up again. His grin brightened as he turned to the spectating crowd, encouraging them to sing along. Sure enough, that’s exactly what they did. 

“(How does she know that you love her?) (How do you show her you love her?)”

“How do you know he's yours?” Mabel struck a pose as the crowd behind her kept the echo going. 

“(How does she know that you really, really truly love her?)”

By now, the air of romantic festivity had gotten to the point where it was contagious. Steven and Mabel led the pack, playfully dancing as several couples broke out from the crowd to do the same. Dipper barely stifled a laugh when his sister pulled him into it, handing him over to Steven as he spun him around freely. 

“Well, does he take you out dancing just so he can hold you close?” Steven sang as he laughingly dipped Dipper. 

“Dedicate a song with words meant just for you? Ooh,” Mabel sang as she ran past the pair. Her eyes lit up as she looked out to the nearby lake, spotting a certain someone sitting all on her own near the shore. The opportunity was practically waiting right there, waiting to be taken. Which all they had to do was make the one chance Dipper had to fix this the best one he could possibly get. 

“He'll find his own way to tell you, with the little things he'll do,” Steven kept his hold on Dipper’s arm as he pulled him along after Mabel. The rest of the crowd eagerly followed, still growing as they proudly paraded through the streets of Gravity Falls, all in the name of young love. 

“That's how you know, that's how you know he's your love!” They all sang in somehow perfect harmony, with Steven and Mabel exchanging a knowing wink as they continued leading the way to the lake. 

“He's your love-”

“That's how you know he loves you.”

“That's how you know it's true”

The pair raised their hands, bringing the crowd to a halt at the start of the shore. Dipper frowned at them, confused, especially when Steven suddenly straightened his vest and Mabel did what she could to fix his hair. 

“You guys,” he started, looking between the two of them. “What are you-”

Mabel put a finger over his mouth, silencing him in favor of singing. “Because he'll wear your favorite color, just so he can match your eyes.”

“Plan a private picnic, by the fire's glow, oooh!” Steven nodded over to the far side of the shore. It took Dipper a moment to spot Pacifica there, sitting near the shallows, her knees pulled to her chest and her expressive penshive and sad. But as soon as he did see her, he knew exactly what it was he needed to do. 

”His heart will be yours forever,” Steven and Mabel chimed in together as they urged him onward. “Something everyday will show!”

With the humble bouquet of flowers in hand and hope emerging in his heart, Dipper began making his way down the shore. Steven, Mabel, and all of the others lingered back to give the couple some privacy. A hush fell over the shore while they all watched from a distance, as Dipper arrived at Pacifica’s side, as he handed the flowers over to her, as he uttered an unheard apology, and-

As she flung her arms around him, laughing warmly all the while. As sure a sign as any that she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt now, how he felt about her. 

As the crowd erupted into cheers, Steven and Mabel exchanged a happy high-five in celebration. Turns out, all it took to save the day was a simple, spirited song and the easiest lesson in love there was. 

They turned back to the crowd again, leading them in one final chorus that only grew as Dipper grabbed Pacifica by the hand and led her over to join them. 

“That's how you know-”

“That's how you know-”

“That's how you know-”

“That's how you know he's your love!”

The happy couple couldn’t help but laugh together as they joined all the others in yet another impromptu dance. 

“That's how she knows that you love her.”

Somewhere in the middle of the dance, Dipper pulled Pacifica to a sudden stop. As breathless as they both were, they found themselves laughing at how ridiculous and how wonderful this entire scene was all at once. At how they couldn’t have wanted to be here with anyone else. At how much of a relief it was to know their relationship could weather almost any storm it might face. 

“That's how you show her you love her (that's how you know)-”

“You've got to show her you need her-”

No one else in the crowd, not even Steven and Mabel, really noticed when the couple drew just a bit closer together. No one noticed when their eyes slipped shut and their smiling mouths met. No one noticed them kissing and no one needed to. As far as they were concerned, this moment was theirs and theirs alone to share. 

“Don't treat her like a mind reader (that's how you know)-”

“How do you know that you love her?”

“That's how you know that you love her!”

“It's not enough to take the one you love for granted (he's your love!)”

And in the end, the song rang true. That’s how they knew, that’s how they’d always know–

They were truly, deeply, wholly in love. 

Commissions are OPEN!

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Monday evening all :) Ewww an Ashley episode. Such a bummer after the last episode haha Not a ton of Chenford content but what we do get is good. There is a case involved but they're not in it enough to analyze anything. Oh also this ep is the intro of Chris so double eww. This episode is just one giant display of why Ashley and Chris aren't meant for either of them. But we knew that already didn't we? Let’s get started eh?

4x10 Heart Beat

Start our episode off with why Ashley isn’t right for Tim. Hit the ground running and the reasons are plentiful. First off Tim doesn’t even think to make Ashley anything. This is all for Kojo. Which I friggin love btw. The animal lover in me adores how spoiled Kojo is. Also imma need some more of this pup in S6. You hear me writers? I need this dog back. Ashley says she’s not a breakfast person but still the least romantic morning ever. They are very early in their dating period and its pretty tame. The way he moves around her. No intimacy at all. Avoiding her as he makes his way over to Kojo’s bowl.

Shows more affection towards his dog than her haha It’s the complete opposite of Tim and Lucy in 5x20. Where there is zero space, lots of touching, flirting and food to be had. Can't keep their hands off each other. The blahness that is Ashley is prominent in this opening scene. Also her judgy tone when she mentions that’s what he gets? If I was dating a man who took that good of care of his dog? I would be a goner. But this is Ashley so….

She is far too vapid for Tim. I looked up the definition of that word to reinforce my point. “Offering nothing that is stimulating or challenging.” If that isn’t the definition of their relationship and her as a character idk what is. Tim has found the very opposite from Lucy in Ashley. She is blah, doesn’t challenge him in any way and definitely doesn’t stimulate him whatsoever. All things he gets from Lucy. Interesting...Almost like he shouldn't be dating her....

She continues down her ‘Why she is wrong for Tim path' When she is afraid/doesn’t like Kojo. I already didn’t like her but this didn’t help her case. If I was dating someone and they didn’t like my dog?Goodbye sir. Twas fun while it lasted LOL Maybe it’s the protective dog person in me but I can not stand her first thought being ‘dangerous’ with Kojo. Just because he didn’t like her at first. Tim telling her he took him in cause Lucy couldn’t keep him.

He tries to help her adjust to him but she isn't about it. Just wants to leave. To me if my dog doesn’t like you that is far more telling than anything else IMO. Dogs have a good sense of people so this would’ve been telling to me as a dog owner. Ashley was already on my 'I don’t like you list.' But the not liking Kojo part plummets her to the very bottom…Also watching Tim with Kojo is ovary explosion for me. Way he pets him and loves on him. My heart. That's his kid.

We join our couple in their shop. Lucy asks how it’s going with Ashley? Tim says good but there was some weirdness this morning. Tim mentions he thinks she doesn’t like Kojo. Lucy’s reaction cracks me up. She could not be more telling when she says 'So you broke up with her? Thats too bad….I liked her…’ 'Lying liar. You know she was hoping he did. We all want that.

The way he loves that dog it actually would make sense. To Lucy as well her not liking Kojo is another strike against her anyways. It’s a valid response to anyone who is a pet owner really. Unfortunately we are stuck with her for a long while. Bleh. My dislike for her is very strong. Because she is everything he doesn’t need or want.

Tim says since when? Knowing she has never liked her. That Lucy had been giving him crap cause she’s a lifeguard ha I mean I can't say I blame her. I would too. Her sarcasm continuing with her reply. Fairly certain none of us considered it a career until Ashley came into the picture. Tim defends the training she had to go through. That it was rigorous training at the fire academy. Trying to make her job sound more prestigious than it is in just the name alone. Lucy doesn’t press it further and says my bad with a smile even though I think she is still secretly judging her LOL

Lucy has such a dog-mom moment here. I love it so very much. As she states his full name above LOL I bet you she has supplied that boy with many chew toys he’s destroyed. Makes me happy to think of Lucy going over to Tim's just to deliver treats and toys for their shared fur-child. Seriously going to need some couple moments with him in S6. It's a crime we haven't gotten them yet.

Lucy's transparency continues when she tells Tim 'Clearly Ashley has to go.' If only it was that easy. Saying it’s a moot point if she doesn’t like Kojo. Now anyone can see she isn’t right for him. The person who knows him the best? Can see it from a mile away the multiple reasons Ashley isn’t right for Tim. So might as well cut this off right now in her opinion. The look they share haha Even when talking about his relationship they are flirty af. So married in their disposition with one another. I love it. Also he's not really disagreeing with her...

Lucy ends up getting a phone call and it’s Ashley… She is confused but intrigued by this phone call. Idk how the hell she got her number. LOL Now you know Lucy is in love with Tim when she gives such solid advice to Ashley. It’s the way she talks about Kojo being like Tim. Girl is so gone for him. Something she continually tries to suppress this entire season. Like she is warding it off really.

Ashley tells her she likes Tim but she’s scared of his dog. Asking why she gave him away? Asking if he was too aggressive? Ugh I hate her animal ignorance so much. Maybe it’s because been I've been in dog world for over a decade but I cannot stand her going right to ‘aggressive.’ Lucy defends her boy says 'No! Not at all. He just wasn’t meant for her living situation.'

Lucy asks if she doesn’t like dogs? Secretly hoping she says yes heh Ashley tells she had a bad experience once. Lucy empathizes and says she gets it. Goes on to say Kojo is the sweetest guy. It’s here we see her switch over to gushing about Tim. It’s the way she’s looking at Tim in Grey’s office that gets me. As she explains how Kojo is just like Tim. Careful Lucy your feelings are showing.

He’s big, gruff, and a whole lot of bark but underneath is a sweetheart. I mean Tim is for HER. Let’s get that clear first. Tim is only soft for Lucy. I adore her helping out in this situation though. She didn't have to but it's Lucy. If Ashley could see how she was looking at Tim. She might feel a little threatened. Not only that but her deep knowledge of Tim. Might catch on she’s just the littlest bit in love with him lol But then 4x12 happens later on so.... How she didn’t break up with Tim after that display idk. So maybe she wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together.

I'm giving her too much credit haha Lucy speaks from a place of love about him. She probably has no idea how she is coming off but it's so obvious. Clearly not talking about Kojo in that tone. She loves that good boy but loves his owner more. Lucy tells her to talk to Tim about it. Ashley replies no that she’s not going to make him pick between her or his dog. That there is a whole genre of country songs about that. Before Lucy can defend Tim more or why she should Ashley cuts the convo off and says good night. Awkward…

It’s then we meet friggin Chris Sanford. *glares* The epitome of meh. Earlier in the ep they arrested young boy dealing drugs. He is one of James’s newest mentees. Lucy being the empathetic soul she is cites him out on a lower charge. That way he gets a fighting chance with James to turn his life around. Just has to attend his court date and such. Very kind thing of her to do for this young man.

He comes in like a mega douche. Instant dislike for his character for how he comes at Lucy. Trying to shame her for citing him out like she did. Calling her naive and basically being an absolute asshat. Lucy CRUSHES him in her reply above. I dislike Chris so very much so this was glorious to watch. Tim Bradford doesn’t stand a chance most days against her. You think your puny ass with 4 months of experience had a chance of winning that argument? What a putz…

Lucy catches Tim in the parking garage before he leaves. Ah this glorious place where all our wonderful moments occur. Lucy tells him it was Ashley who called her earlier. Gotta love how open she is with Tim always. As usual Lucy is toeing the line of personal boundaries with him. Possibly overstepping by bringing this up. But that’s kind of their thing.

Also like to note how telling it is that Ashley felt more comfortable coming to Lucy and not her BF about this. That she didn’t think he would listen to her but Lucy would. Because well she did. Lucy does get the other side of the story with Kojo. That is not a dislike but bad experience on her end. Which to be fair is valid when you’ve had a bad experience with a dog. Now that being said I still dislike so very much.

What I’m trying to get at here is Lucy interpreted this as Tim not fulling listening to Ashley’s concern. It’s not surprising Tim gets a little hard headed about things. Especially things he loves. So he’s instantly defensive about said things. I’m the same way. Lucy knows this about him. Which is why they’re having this conversation. So she can bring his attention to it in way only she can. Because Tim actually listens to Lucy. This scene really is more about their bond than his issue with Ashley. How Lucy is the only one who can ever get through to Tim. Her super power really.

He doesn’t listen to anyone the way he listens to Lucy. Especially when she is doling out advice for him. This is a kindness she is doing for him. Letting him know one his GF called her and two the reason behind it. That she is scared and he needs to listen to her about it. Tim shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Which you can see Lucy is a little taken aback with. How instantly shut off he is to this conversation. But like i said earlier he is defensive about things he loves. He LOVES that dog.

This is their dance with advice he is defensive or dismissive at first. Then it sinks in and he truly listens to what she is telling him. She may not like Ashley. (None of us do..) But she would be remiss not to share her opinion on this with him. Tim instead of thanking her for the advice deflects. Because well Tim. Asking why she is so invested in his love life? Asking with a little smile some sass in that question of his. Also gauging what her reaction will be. He is truly curious.

It is interesting how his love life is the only one she intercedes in. Not Nolan or any of his. She didn’t with Jackson for either of his love interests. Just Tim. Because that shows the level of importance this man has gained in her life. Saw some parallels to this moment and 2x03. When she was trying to pair Tim up with Rachel. How Lucy once again is involved in his love life. It’s true that she just wants him to be happy.

Also Tim’s interest in why she is interested in his love life is far different than 2x03. He didn’t question it then. Just thought it was apart of their bet. In S4 he is a lot more aware. Like I said in the last review their bond and their awareness of each other is far stronger than it was in S2. He is so genuinely curious why she is so invested in it?

They’ve had a lot of intimate moments and work flirts since 4x01. Tim can feel the shift that has happened between them. So it makes him curious why she is helping him like she is? Lucy does some deflecting of her own for his question. Saying she doesn’t want to drive around on patrol while he is moping around about this girl. He is so offended by her saying this it's so funny. That if he likes this girl he should listen to her. It’s funny all the things she’s telling him to do with Ashley he naturally does with her. Funny old world lol

Tim’s reply back cracks me up. Saying when has he ever moped? That he doesn’t even know how to. Oh but you do my love. You perfect it in S5. While you pine for her while she is still with Chris the putz. But ok sure you don’t know how. His eye roll is so damn funny Eric always crushes it when he does this. Her little Mmhmm as she walks away smirking. Has this man wrapped around her finger. She drives him insane and Tim absolutely loves it.

Tim follows through on Lucy’s advice and listens to Ashley’s fears. Really Lucy extended this relationship when it was destined to fail. But she cares so much about Tim and his happiness she gave him solid advice. This bit made me chuckle. Saying Kojo needs to be bossed around a little to listen. heh. Just like daddy. There's a reason he only listen's to Lucy.

Kojo being just like Tim of course he needs a strong woman to boss him around to listen. I wouldn't call Ashley strong but she got the idea. I mean that scene in the parking garage kinda a parallel to this one in that regard. Doesn’t listen at first then eventually comes around when they're bossed around ha. Not a ton in this ep for them. Solid moments nonetheless. Sadly we are saddled with a Chris and Ashley for a little while. But we get tons of goodies between all that so it helps.

~~~

Side notes- non Chenford

I do love James and Wes starting up their bromance. They cute.

Thank you to all who continually support these reviews. Your likes, comments and reblogs make it all worth it. See you Wednesday with 4x11 :)

[runwayrunway]

No. 40 - Southwest Airlines

One of my most requested posts, it's time to cover a carrier anyone who's flown in the US is probably very familiar with. After all, Southwest has for decades been the largest low-cost carrier in the world by both revenue and fleet size (though IndiGo is coming for that title).

Southwest's history is longer and more substantial than many may think, a central figure in the genesis of what we now know as the low-cost carrier. But one thing I think a lot of people know is their livery.

A common theme on this blog is trends in airline liveries - in particular, the modern trend towards the minimalist, sterile, underdesigned, and above all generic. As an anecdotal example, someone who lives near Boston's Logan Airport, the 16th-busiest airport in the US and 30th-busiest in the world, served by every major US airline and every major international carrier from countries within 787 range, were they to watch the takeoffs and landings, would be treated to the following...menagerie.

Can you believe these planes fly for different and indeed unrelated airlines?

Safe to say from 5,000 feet below it's a challenge to tell these planes apart. Even taxiing past them you'd need to pay attention. If I forced someone to squint I'm not sure they could identify them properly. How about Southwest?

Bam.

Southwest Airlines was founded in an era that borders on incomprehensible to those of my age bracket. The United States is a nation united in grumbling about Spirit Airlines, and most of Europe is constantly cursing Ryanair under their breath, but it wasn't always like that. The fact of a united enemy at all is new in the US. Back before the 1978 Deregulation Act, it was so prohibitively expensive to operate interstate flights that most airlines just didn't. Interstate flights were left to giant full-service airlines like Delta and Eastern, while international flights were the domain of an even more elite few - Pan Am, TWA, Braniff, and National (no, not that National, the other one) while the scrappier little companies flew short hops for commuters.

One airline which emerged in this pre-deregulation era was Pacific Southwest Airlines, commonly abbreviated to PSA, an initially tiny airline operating in California. You may recognize them from my icon! PSA is one of the single most important airlines in history because it all but invented the idea of the low-cost carrier. Beyond that, they were a Fun Airline. And while they were flying their grinningbirds all over California something else brewed in the background.

image: SouthwestArchive I have never before in my life seen such a profound pairing of undereye bags with the slicked-back hair and piercing blue eyes of a YA dystopia novel film adaptation villain, darting around to lock onto any sources of potential wealth ripe for acquisition.

In 1971 Southwest Airlines began operating flights. The company was actually incorporated in 1967 (as Air Southwest), the brainchild of then-lawyer Herb Kelleher (and two other people who nobody ever talks about because they're boring). They saw what PSA was doing and saw potential for the massive profits that could be gained from avoiding fees from operating interstate and charging drastically lower fees than the larger carriers. Unfortunately for them the larger carriers also realized this, and they were trapped for three years in lawsuit purgatory, with Braniff, Continental, and Trans-Texas Airways taking the case all the way to the Supreme Court, who apparently declined to review it, recognizing that 'they have come up with an idea that will make them make more money and us make less money' is not a particularly powerful legal argument.

And with that little hurdle over Southwest was open for business! Though they weren't quite starting out as a single rented DC-3 Kelleher very closely modeled the airline after PSA, who seemed to be okay enough with it if them helping to train mechanics at the nascent airline was any indication. After all, at this point they were both intrastate airlines fundamentally unable to compete with each other - Southwest was staying put in Texas with no reason to think this would change anytime soon. They brought a bit of PSA to the state, like the low fares and the stewardesses in hot pants and go-go boots.

So what was their answer to the grinningbird?

The rare and deeply cursed Southwest 727.

The mustard rocket. It was called "desert gold" but I think we all know that this is mustard. At this point in history brightly colored airplanes weren't even unusual either, so it would have just been regular ugly instead of ostentatious. (I mean...I like this shade of mustard yellow, honest, but I recognize that most people think this is hideous.)

Southwest kept on Southwesting from there. These days, they're massive, and the most common response on my questionnaire for best airline experiences. No comment, as I've never flown with them. Highlights of their journey there include getting a federal amendment passed because they didn't want to relocate their hub from Love Field to Dallas-Fort Worth, getting sued for only hiring female flight attendants, having the first Black chief pilot of any major airline in the US, technically legal tax evasion measures, having to invent elaborate work-arounds for the restrictions placed on them which could have been avoided by just relocating to Fort Worth, absorbing a bunch of other airlines, being the launch customer for both the -300 and MAX 8 models of the Boeing 737, and making approximately a zillion dollars. In 1990 they absorbed Morris Air, a vacation charter airline which developed innovative cost-cutting measures like e-ticketing, including high-up positions on the Southwest corporate ladder for the founders...

image: conde nast traveller Strange millionaires lurking in woods distributing model airplanes is no basis for an airline industry! ...scratch that, it does appear to be working.

...oh, for heaven's sake, there he is again. Yes, David Neeleman's cost-cutting acumen was indeed put to use at Southwest, meaning that between this and founding jetBlue he basically created low-cost carriers. I reluctantly tip my hat to the man. I would not be able to afford airline tickets without him. But he's just everywhere.

Here is my handwritten faMintly tree. Southwest is jetBlue's cousin once removed, do with that what you will. Anyway, let's hope I never have to add to this. (Not least because I already binned the piece of paper I wrote this out on.)

The turn of the century brought new things for Southwest! In 2000 they had their first major accident (a nonfatal runway overrun resulting in loss of the aircraft). Unrelatedly, in 2001 they released a new color scheme for their fleet, now several hundred strong and entirely composed of assorted models of Boeing 737.

The era of Canyon Blue had begun.

I mean, it's a statement. At this point a plane painted to look like a poisonous frog was in fact a pretty major statement. They were setting out to be an eyesore and I'm sure people were upset about this one, but to the modern eye it looks muted and unfinished. Still bluer than anything David Neeleman had made at that point, but not quite what we know today.

Okay. Yes. There we go.

This livery is meant to be the heart from their logo, the same one worn where the plane's heart might be if planes had hearts instead of air-conditioning systems, the colors unwrapped and deconstructed. And boy, is it almost violently colorful! It goes so far that it takes a minute to notice only three colors, plus white, are used in the entire livery. It's almost eyestraining, and I did have to turn the contrast down on my monitor while writing this because I'm fairly photosensitive. It's...less painful when pixels aren't involved.

So this is definitely one-of-a-kind. Well, it was. jetBlue has made choices recently. But this livery is definitely not one that gets lost in the crowd.

There's very little white or even silver on this airframe, in sharp contrast with...basically every airline. The rest of the livery is vivid and searing yellow and red, unusual shades in airlines, which tend to stick to slightly more muted schemes. And if you couldn't tell who they were by that, the big white billboard wordmark would let you know real quick. I think the white is a bit less legible than I'd like, but I'm not sure how to improve that without making it genuinely eyestrainy. At least it's large and visible, which is crucial for a low-cost carrier, instead of subtle and out of the way on the tail. That might work for an airline with a prestigious air, but that's not Southwest. Southwest is blue and yellow and red.

The main differences between the modern livery and Canyon Blue are in the placement of the logo and the colors used. Each shade is brightened significantly, which is why the once-garish Canyon Blue now looks pretty dusty in comparison. They entirely removed the blue from the tail, making it the airframe feel a little less like it's blue with accents and a little more like it's a circus tent. I do wish the yellow and red covered a bit more of the belly, but still...wow.

Some uses of Southwest Sans demonstrated.

The success of this design isn't by accident. Apparently, Southwest consulted no fewer than five design firms, and the font used for the livery and all their material (which I think looks totally fine) was actually commissioned from iconic foundry Monotype. A lot of airline liveries are designed in-house, and that can turn out fine, but Southwest clearly pulled out all the stops and it shows.

Southwest is a low-cost carrier, and this does affect the standards by which I judge their livery. They aren't here to be guided by legacy or decorum the way a flag carrier is - they're here to sell you a cheap ticket on an airline with funny cabin announcements. Circus tent with big lettering in a sea of Eurowhite? Nice, clean execution - I'd call that a job well done.

Grade: B

[skyransketches]

These guys are a bit out of order, but here's OC-tober Days 10 - 14, the palette challenges! (in order from left to right, top to bottom: 12, 11, 13, 10, and 14)

Typically not a fan of palette challenges, but I used this as an opportunity to experiment. Twas fun~

First one depicts Miraya, fierce elemental dragon-mage and mother to my characters Connor and Russel.

Next has Corynn, a very complicated lady; Jade, a bright lil gem dragon; my sunny boy Connor; and finally a windy mage who I've given the placeholder name of Harper.

[kapmikukupolys]

Waverider Interactive 3D Model

Project ✤ Creating the Waverider from DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Devlog 6 - Now that the initial modular kit is done, I tried my hand at greyboxing the Bridge, kitchen and dining room. Twas pretty fun.

Above is the kit so far, I did some tweaks after testing out how it fits together in maya, and some UVing so that the shaders don't go crazy in Unreal. I also made sure to export it all with the pivot at the world origin.

I explored two ways of modelling in Unreal. I chose to model in Unreal for ease of testing :

Brush Editing :

Simple brushes/shapes - additive and subtractive ways to model (basically an modifiable boolean).

Great for walls and doorways - options to make into static mesh/dynamic mesh (dynamic mesh will not add to content browser)

Not so great for props.

Modelling Mode :

Basically like every 3D modelling programme out there but a bit more clunky.

Works well with props.

Collision is already made with the mesh.

Reflection

A lot of other challenges arose - but it was largely fixed with tweaking.

I've gotten faster at using the brush/modelling tools and can discern which to use for certain areas.

There's a bunch of small details that I've noticed since greyboxing.

It is very fun to finally walk around.

[moonlight-eternal]

Greetings, denizens of this intangible ſpace. I am Gwyndolin, Goddess of the Darkmoon, lastborn child of the Great Lord Gwyn, patron goddess of justice and bearer of the Soul of Cold. Events have conſpired to bring me to this other place against my will. I worry greatly for Lordran in mine abſence, for the First Flame ever fadeth and, though diſtasteful is the act, ſacrifices must be offered as kindling with regularity, with the world's ſurvival prolonged in proportion to the magnitude of souls a ſavior Linketh unto the flame. The time approacheth again mere decades hence and preparations must be made to train the next heroic Undead and guide them along the path; to that end I seek return to the lands of my birth, that I might lay out the ſtrengthening challenges once more.

While here, however, I do resolve to learn of this odd realm, and to partake of its hoſpitality and its challenges. I am, outside of duty, a scholar: of three forms of magic, and of archery, and it would be remiſs to recuse myself from learning as well the skill of battling with pokemon. Therefore I do swear to train a team and ascend to Champion, should time allow while my search progreſseth toward a way to travel home.

I have one pokemon already, though I know its ſpecies not. Twas a brown and large-eared ſort, with fluffy tail, which did approach me like a cat upon my Fall. Foolishly I did reach out in trust, against my cautious habit, and as my fingers brushed across its fur a change did come at once. The beaſt now sporteth fur of white, with ribbons upon her neck all tipped in pink and blue. I have named her Ornstein, after a friend most dear to me, who did transform her body just like this creature, and myself in past, have done.

A settlement lieth ahead along the road; I shall make my way to its gates and seek insight as to the journey ahead.

[OOC info under the cut.]

Hi it's me again from @the-fluffiest-trainer, yes I know Dark Souls is quite a different vibe from MLP, but it's also my favorite game ever and I can't let the growing crowd of Bloodborne Fallers have all the fun, now can I? Gwyndolin and Fluttershy are in the same world and the same Kalos and can conceivably run into each other. This is mostly because I am still not very familiar with pokemon and didn't want to have to double my research and play through another game in parallel, but also because it's just really funny to see them in the same place together.

This world is closer to the anime than to the games, with expanded regions and less emphasis on hard game mechanical details in pokemon battles. I write what makes sense from the perspective of living in the world, even if the numbers and code might not agree.

Important info and ground rules:

With this blog in particular, much more so than with Fluttershy's blog, I am going to have a very twitchy finger on the block button. This has nothing to do with you; this is just due to my own personal requirements in this specific context.

Pronouns are she/her exclusively. IC misgendering will be responded to with hostility. OOC misgendering may get you blocked, because it means you haven't read this pinned post and I really need people to have read this before interacting.

Gwyndolin arrived to Kalos via random ultra wormhole, same as many Fallers, from roughly the ds1 player's time period.

Pelipper mail is on, however...

I am extremely autistic about this game and I guarantee I know what ds1 canon does and does not say. If you make reference to something that's in ds3 but not in ds1, I will know.

If you put ds3 shit in my inbox, I will almost certainly not respond to it.

If the above happens too frequently, I will close all mail. And that's no fun for any of us.

If you send me particularly graphic or offensive ds3 shit, I will block you. Do not fucking test me on this.

Gwyndolin's pokemon team:

Ornstein (she/her), sylveon, who found Gwyndolin upon her Fall as an eevee but evolved instantly upon being pet, just due to the sheer transgender energy Gwyndolin imparted.

Andre (he/him), snom, found on Route 19 and initially thought to be a crystal lizard.

Sif (she/her), yamper, found alongside Radagon in the wilderness near Anistar City.

Radagon (he/him), yamper (shiny), found alongside Sif in the wilderness near Anistar City.

N/A

N/A

[unknown]'s pokemon team:

Nort (he/him), zoroark

Velkotaq (he/him), corviknight

Lozcar (she/her), malamar

Marshadow (they/them), marshadow

N/A

N/A

Text colors and formats used:

Gwyndolin: Standard black text

Visual description in videos: [Bracketed italicized black text]

[unknown]: Purple text. This person first appeared in the "#impish stranger arc". All that is known about them is that they are short, redheaded, also hail from Lordran, and really do not want Gwyndolin investigating them.

Gym Leader Olympia: Blue text. First introduced in the "#anistar rumors arc", her psychic abilities may prove useful in tracking down the stranger noted above.

Fluttershy (@the-fluffiest-trainer): Pink text.

Twindolin: Teal text. AU Gwyndolin from a worse Lordran, introduced in the MMM "Moon Moon" and managed to stay in the pokemon world.

Content warnings for this blog, current and future:

Canonical events of Pokemon X

Trainers can be affected by pokemon moves if improperly targeted

Possible mentions of past transphobia and parental abuse

Not post-apocalyptic themes per se, more like... actively working to push off a foreseeable apocalypse. If Gwyndolin gets home again and does her job, there never will be an apocalypse.

Occasional high-stakes plots which may involve injury and/or death, for both pokemon and trainers.

Current deviations from normal:

Gwyndolin got cat ears pelipper mailed to her. It took her weeks to notice she had them because of the mask she wears all the time.

Story arcs so far:

Intro arc (no tag): Gwyndolin Falls into eastern Kalos and finds a starter pokemon. She takes on a dragon-type gym in a noncanon small town.

#cold wind arc: On the way to the nearest large city, Snowbelle, Gwyndolin investigates what appears to be a creature native to Lordran.

#impish stranger arc: Gwyndolin happens upon a person who cannot be focused on or remembered later, but who shows up on video. Investigation leads to this person revealing they are also from Lordran, then leaving town and threatening Gwyndolin with bodily harm if she tries to find them again.

#week of weeks mini-arc: The road is out to the north of Snowbelle, so Gwyndolin takes the back roads through a tiny town, arriving just in time for a local holiday. She learns about other traditions and meets a very gay woman named Ruth.

#anistar rumors arc: Everyone in Anistar City is strangely hostile for no apparent reason. The psychic gym leader Olympia informs Gwyndolin that a stranger passed through recently and spread unpleasant rumors about her, then made themself forgotten when they left. Also there was an incident with some zucchini.

#mmm: moon moon: An alternate Gwyndolin falls into Kalos, from a timeline in which the Dark overtook Lordran. She does not wish to return home, and with Gwyndolin's help manages to remain.

[crimsonbathed]

“What was that- that you just did? What did you do that for?”

Ruby lips twisted up in a wicked smirk. "What ever do you mean? Just now?" Carrion mused with socratic irony, desperate to hear the Darling girl ask about how the path before them had changed with just a blink of the eye. It was fun to play with Wendy, to see just how much she was truly paying attention. Nothing more than just minor illusions of course, Pan had made himself clear as crystal when it came to what wasn't acceptable in regards to the Darling girl. To anger the god and island that protected her, was a foolish decision that she aimed to avoid making when possible. Carrion's gaze lazily dragged across the ground before them. Something with a gorgeous ivory color, mixed with flecks of brown and burnt orange caught her attention. "If you must know, I JUST spotted a beautiful spine, simply laying out. How very peculiar." She mused, making her way towards the piece in question in order to inspect it. Stealing a glance back at the young woman caused a wave of amusement to ripple throughout the small folks body. The look upon Wendy's features told Carrion all that she needed to know. "Twas that not the answer you wished for? For it was what you asked. Truly, you must be more careful with your wording. So hard for people to say what they mean."

Slim digits picked up one of the fragmented facet joints. "They look like butterfly wings, don't they?" Sage hues narrowed as Carrion drank in the state of the bone, small holes bore in to the surface, weakening its structure. They could prove useful yet. Playing the role of an oblivious fool was one that Carrion had grown far too used to back when she wandered the Other Place. Moving from colony to sad little colony. A weakened traveler who meant no harm to those who allowed her to stay. Which she honored. No harm came to the small folk who allowed her to stay within their home. The rest of the colony? Well, that was a different story. "Tell me, do you not enjoy such fun things? I thought that giants liked to solve puzzles and such? Don't you wish to see if you can navigate this little trick all your own?" An unnatural amount of canines peeked out from beneath the woman's lips as they curled up in a challenging grin. "Different perspectives are all you need, surely Pan has taught you how to survive on your own? Keeping your nose to the ground will only help you so much."

[pitagain]

#365DaysOfVGM Day 147:

Leonid Castle (Romancing SaGa 3 [1995])

‘Twas a good 10 or 11 days of really popular tracks, or at the very least, tracks from franchises almost everyone knows about. That streak had to meet its end someday, but don’t scroll past this one just yet, it has just as much appeal in the music department, perhaps maybe not in the areas you’re expecting. Without further ado…

Easily the most melancholy music I’ve heard on the Super Famicom, being a top favorite for sheer atmosphere and emotions for said atmosphere getting as close to perfection as possible, as short as it is! The heavy Drums keep you on your toes with how sudden their louder noises are, echo-ing across the halls. Those long, drawn-out Strings especially make it feel like a gigantic funeral for the many creatures now turned undead. It’s also a grim reminder of this vampire’s castle that you’re likely struggling to get to the deeper basement floors of, since most of the haunted creatures here will quickly wipe any team that isn’t already in late-game power.

Imagining this in the bleak-looking kind of final stage for any game that takes itself seriously enough, elaborates how much staying power this track has in my mind! I’d have to do a 2nd playthrough of Romancing SaGa 3 to confidently say if it’s worth playing these days, but I can tell you that I had a pretty good time with it during my 1st playthrough, tackling whichever challenges I stumbled upon along the way.

The lack of clear direction most SaGa games have, as well as their highly customizable characters that can eventually master any field in combat you desire, present a kind of openness that might not appeal to that many, but is part of SaGa’s identity (Want a team of only heavy sword users? Kinda impractical, but fun with enough planning, especially since you have plenty of different techniques to use for each weapon in its own limited point system, as if they were their own magic class! Oh, and you can recruit Leonid the vampire himself if you can get through his castle, with his own unique traits and magic class too!)

(Length before loop: 1+ minutes)

[caramelcuniculus]

With a soft burst of laughter, while Robin's eyes remained fixed in a n almost ferocious way. It intrigued Carmine, to say the least. Many suitors might have been thrown off by it, but fortunately for the two of them, that wasn't why the knight was here. Both of them could settle with this distance between their duties, to hide away for even a few moments to reach some place of peace. Robin was hiding much about herself, wasn't she? Well, not that it was the knight's business, but Carmine loved being nosy. Maybe this would let both of them learn even more than what they both current present on the surface.

It was almost like a game. A fun game, though. No stakes were apparent here, so long as Robin kept her word. 'I won't tell if you don't.'

Carmine whistled quietly, giving a fast nod. "I'm not telling a soul. I think I'd get in more trouble than you if I even had the thought. I don't, by the way. Just in case you were fretting over the slightly possibility." It would be a mutual secret, then. I twas a high honor to conceal something like this, and far more dangerous with it being kept and shared with a noble. High risk, high reward? Even just a little time pulled away was worth it in Carmine's mind.

With Robin's request, the knight quickly obeyed. Her head turned to gaze at the local area for a final time, scanning for unwanted eyes, then retreated behind the screen. She sat herself with such grace that the display made it hard to believe she was a mere knight. Concealed eyes blinked at Robin, only to look off to the side. "That does sound deathly boring. At the very least, you've got me here, and I can guarantee some of my stories will entertain you."

Carmine's head snapped back to Robin. "I'm absolutely sure of it! Now, I just need to figure out which of my stories would be the best to share…" While the knight had plenty of instances she could recall in a split moment, Carmine didn't want to tell Robin a horribly brutal one. Truth be told, that was going to be a challenge. Carmine was one of the best knights there was, always charging into battle headfirst. She had no fear, no second guesses, and that brought her praise upon praise.

These stories would not only leave a bad taste in the noble's mouth, but on her own tongue. She could almost taste the blood spilled on those days and many other days. What to do…

Carmine had closed her eyes to concentrate, but she'd gone a long while being through the conflicting path of Memory Lane. Maybe she fell asleep? Or maybe-- "I've got it!" The lighter memory struck her as fast as lightning, yellow eyes flying open. A wide smile formed, both due to this rediscovery and the memory itself.

"You should know the life of a knight isn't the easiest. Most of what one sees is very hard to stomach. However, there is one story that always warms my heart." Carmine took a deep breath before continuing. "It was one of our own kingdom's inhabitants. A raiding group, or something of that sort, swept into one of the farthest towns and brought hell with them. Us knights eventually made it to the scene and pushed back the gang. The town was safe, but that didn't mean it wasn't left in ruin."

The knight's head lowered solemnly. "Everything was in some sort of disrepair, but that didn't mean everything was shrouded in despair. In fact, this story follows myself helping a young woman, similar to my age. Who was frozen from fear. She worried for her life… but I assured her that I would look after her. I stayed awake throughout the few nights I spent with her, while the town was being put back together. Despite myself being the knight, this woman tended to my wounds and kept me fed. She didn't have to do anything like that, but I like to see it as a shared, mutual bonding."

Carmine straightened herself up, then sighed. "This was a few months ago. She is alright now, and on occasion, I visit her. Just to make sure she remains in good health and good spirits." The knight sighed and shook her head with melancholy. "Humanity can be found even at the worst times. That was what I learned. And I, for one, think that's beautiful."

In all honesty- Robin was tied between worlds. On one hand, she enjoyed the life of nobility, being able to consume and create art, wearing fine things and relaxing. But on the other end, she liked being a shrine maiden, speaking with the kami and performing the rites. Both ends were somewhat peaceful.

Deep down, despite her happiness, she did sometimes yearn for adventure. To cut her long hair, remove the hair pieces and jewels, shed her dozens of layers of silk to instead wear more breathable fabrics. To bind her chest and race into the forests, slaying demons, made into some folkhero.

Carmine's feminine side mixing with the responsibility of knighthood was a distant dream the shrine maiden doubted she'd find. Yet here she was. Perhaps Carmine would allow Robin to hear fabulous stories of warfare and chivalry.

A laugh came from the wolf-girl when such a joke was made, but her sharp eyes did not soften much. If anything, they burned with a fire that had scorched many suitors into silence.

"I won't tell if you don't. Please, sit beside my screen. I want to hear stories of your achievements. It's so boring, just watching you all dance while I cannot show my face!"

[sweatyhanded]

my take on the one piece cover challenge from twt✌🏼

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

—————————

Three targets, each incredibly difficult to get your hands on, each presenting their own unique challenges. Which would be easiest to charm? You were still debating that answer.

First was Bela: The eldest, most responsible, forced to be the “role model” for her sisters. A bookworm (a trait the two of you shared) who spent a fair amount of her freetime in the library. While not overtly cruel, she was still rather violent, especially in cases where she felt her family had been insulted. However, there were whispers that she had a secret weakness: Anxiety. None had caught her in the open throes of an attack and lived to tell the tale. But she had been overheard, more than once, quiet cries or shaking breaths. Trying to talk to her during one of these occasions could lead to gaining her affection- if you managed to do what no other had been capable of doing, that is.

Second was Daniela: The youngest, most excitable, eager to please and desperate to be pleased. Easily interacted with more maidens than either of her sisters, though not always in a good way. Getting her attention could mean getting pulled into her room in the middle of the night, for some “fun”, or it could mean getting drained of all of your blood. Sometimes she did one after the other. Like Bela, she was a bookworm, though she preferred romance novels as opposed to her older sister’s educational texts. As for her weakness? To you, Daniela seemed to be the definition of “undiagnosed ADHD”. Less exploitable for sympathy than her sister, but possibly useful in helping you trick her. At the end of the day, the largest concern with her was her inconsistent behavior, her tendency to flip moods at the drop of a hat- and a drop of the hat with her could feel a helluva lot like a drop of an axe (onto your neck).

Then came the third… the one you didn’t think was worth the risk, whatsoever: Cassandra. Middle child and acting just like it, she was hungry for her mother’s approval, attention, and respect most of all. Bloodthirsty as could be, with a mean streak eight kilometers wide, the truest monster you had ever met. Even her fondness for the arts manifested in malevolent ways. Supposedly, she painted in blood, and made sculptures from the bones of her victims, displayed proudly in her room as trophies. What could you possibly do to earn her affection? What could you ever be to her, other than a plaything or mid-afternoon snack?... Nothing, you assumed, and so you figured you might as well remove her from your list. Somehow you’d have to make do with one of her sisters. As for which one?... You decided to let fate decide, and go for whomever you found yourself with an opportunity to court.

—————————

Free time was a rare commodity in Castle Dimitrescu. While every servant did technically get one day off every week, it wasn’t uncommon to end up helping with something unexpected, even if one tried to hide away in the private quarters. For you, it was an opportune time to try and get closer to your targets. So far three weeks had passed since your “decision” to focus on Bela and Daniela, without a single interaction with either of them. Still, hope held fast in your chest, as you made haste towards the library. On this free day you intended to read as much as possible. ‘Twas a two-pronged goal: First, you would increase your chances of running into one of your preferred employers. Secondly, you could possibly learn something through what content you consumed, perhaps to be utilized in later conversations.

Or such was the hope. In truth, you did not make it to the library, nor even anywhere close. A quarter of the way there you were interrupted by an ever-dreaded noise; buzzing echoed throughout the hallway, first far off, but getting closer with every second. There was a particular ferocity to the vibrations that you knew meant danger was approaching. According to the other maidens, this was a distinction that everyone learned over time, assuming that they survived long enough. The smart thing would have been to duck away into an adjacent room in the hopes that whatever sister it was would ignore you. But your endgame weighed heavy on your mind, then forced your feet to the floor. For better or worse, you would be in the woman’s path, ready for whatever she may ask of you.

“You-” a voice snarled, as a hooded figure phased out of the swarm and into your vision. Her head was held high, eyes narrowed as they stared down at you, a snarl twisting her lips. Of course it was her. Cassandra Dimitrescu. The one daughter you didn’t want to encounter. Inside, part of you writhes in self deprecation, feeling as if you should have known better. How often did the other two buzz about so angrily?... Well, certainly a fair bit, but nowhere near as much as Cassandra. Fuck, you think, I’m probably doomed. “I’m hungry. Come here real quick,” Cassandra demands, beckoning you towards her with a single finger. In another life you would have blushed bright red at the sight. A life where she wasn’t a vampiric monster, that is.

Nonetheless, you are quick to obey, masking your anxiety as best as you can. Doing so gets much harder once your gaze meets Cassandra’s, and you see her lick her lips before smirking at you. As soon as you’re within her reach, she’s surging forward, grabbing you by your shoulders, then pivoting, pressing you hard against the wall. You can’t help but gasp at the sudden movements, which only widens her grin. Before you know it she’s running her tongue along your neck. Once more you gasp, this time softer, hating the way your body urges you to lean into her touch. Why couldn’t she simply get straight to the worst of it? Instead she takes her sweet time, slipping a finger beneath the collar of your shirt, slowly, carefully tugging it to the side. When she finally bites, it is terribly sudden. The pleasure comes before the pain, stronger than you would have expected, eliciting a sharp inhale from you that sounds more satisfied than you had intended. Even as a rush of pain follows, you can’t help the red that tints your cheeks.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” Cassandra asks, after licking away at your blood for a few moments, pulling back but not releasing you. Something in her eyes makes you need to respond.

“Y-yes, more than I’d like to admit,” you mumble, barely able to make eye contact. But she seems pleased by this, gently cupping your chin while she looks you over.

“Well then, if you survive… I might just have to drink from you again,” she whispers, before diving right back in towards your neck. This time her touch is far, far softer than before. It feels more like she’s kissing you rather than drinking from you. A strange, irritatingly familiar feeling springs in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but make more of those noises she seemed to enjoy so much. Hell, your eyes drift closed as you take in the surprisingly welcome sensation. When they reopen, however, you give a yelp of surprise, spotting a very awkwardly waiting servant. They were blushing, clearly not having expected to come upon this particular sight. Cassandra perks up at your shock, turning to follow your gaze, then giving an uncharacteristically resigned groan. “Damn it, Ava, is it urgent?” She asks, to which the servant gives a silent shrug. “I’ll be done in a minute. Now, where were we?”

Once more she resumes feeding, casting aside all traces of sweetness, sucking on your wound with reckless abandon. Behind her, Ava gives you a thumbs up before turning away. As embarrassing as the moment felt, you were grateful to xer, glad that xe seemed to recognize your desire for privacy. More than that… if xe hadn’t come along, would Cassandra have remembered to stop before your bloodloss became fatal? There was no guarantee either way. Yet xer intervention felt like a godsend, and you made a mental note to thank xer later. Soon enough Cassandra removes herself from you, pausing only to cup your chin for a moment, meeting your gaze with a smirk. Then she was turning away without another word, following Ava to some unknown destination.

A deep breath, then another, more frantic, the familiar sense of panic growing on the edges of your mind. Now that the feeding was over, you were left trembling with all the fear you had been so adamant about not showing before. How close to death had you come? How close were you now? Only feeling slightly more faint than you had earlier, it felt safe enough to assume you would be fine, if only physically. Inside your mind you were struggling with racing thought after racing thought. How the hell am I supposed to do this with either Bela or Daniela? You think, trying to breathe past the lump in your throat. And why did I have to enjoy that so much? They’re nothing more than means to an end, monsters undeserving of my kindness, of my joy. Your only comfort was the knowledge that this may very well have been the opportunity you had been waiting for; but only if you could shift your aim.

—————————

The difference was subtle, almost microscopic, to the point where it took you a full week to notice. But once you had? Everything felt different. You couldn’t spend more than three seconds in the same room as Cassandra without her eyes following you, watching your every move, sending a rush of both fear and excitement down your spine. Meeting her gaze only made her give the tiniest fraction of a smile. As soon as something (or someone) else caught her attention, however, you were forgotten in the blink of an eye. Yet it was nerve wracking nonetheless. This was roughly what you had hoped for, but you had underestimated the mental toll it would take on you. There was no way to tell whether Cassandra wanted violence, something softer, or her usual brand- a cruel mixture of both. Every second spent in her presence was a roll of the dice, a flip of a coin, either one weighted to put the odds against you.

But you persisted. Escape was not a dream, nor a fantasy, nor some far off cryptid. It was inevitable. Again and again you would swallow your fear until you reached your long-sought destination. No matter the cost, you think, no matter the consequences. Over time, that cost, those consequences, would grow. For now, it was a slice of your sanity. Next? More blood, it seemed.

“Casserole wants you to stop by her art studio,” the note said, cursive hand-writing ever-so-fancy and ever-so-difficult to read. Clearly from Ava, the mildly mysterious (but incredibly helpful) castle servant known for never speaking a word. From what you had gathered, xe was a confidant of sorts for the Dimitrescu family, trusted far more than the average worker. Alas, xe was loyal to the center of xer being, and was rumored to be impeccable at preventing escape attempts before they had even started. If you wanted out of this damn place, you knew you’d have to be careful around xer. Hopefully xe won’t interrupt this time, you think, before tucking the note away in your pocket.

Cassandra’s infamous studio wasn’t terribly far from your quarters, thankfully, though you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to arrive at a specific time. What if she wasn’t expecting you until later? Worse, what if she had been expecting you an hour ago? It’s a dangerous thought, one that could easily spiral into something far more drastic, and you try to reassure yourself, reminding yourself that Ava would have mentioned a time if it was important. In the end, you still found your heart racing as you stood outside the room in question. Pausing to take a deep breath, you center yourself, before raising a hand to knock. To your surprise, you get an answer before your hand even gets close to the door.

“Come in already,” Cassandra chimes from inside. Unsure of what terrible fate you were about to meet, you entered the room, somewhat reluctantly. Despite the myriad of unsavory rumors regarding the studio, there were no immediate signs of brutality. At the worst, the space was fairly messy, though not due to any, ahem, “misplaced” body parts. No, just an overflowing garbage bin, a few unfinished projects placed haphazardly wherever they’d fit, shards of glass in one corner, and tile floor splattered with a Pollock-esque layer of paint. In one word? Chaotic. Such was the type of environment that seemed to suit Cassandra best, the sort in which you imagined she would thrive. But you didn’t have time to examine anything as closely as you would have liked to. “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“No, Lady Cassandra,” you reply, hurriedly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Then you’re quickly crossing the room, to what looks like a cross between a storage cabinet and a paint mixing station. In Cassandra’s hands, however, you find something less welcoming than a paintbrush: A needle and an empty blood bag. Well, you think, I guess I know why I’m here. At least there’s only one bag, right? “What do you require of me, my Lady?” While the answer was fairly obvious, you didn’t know the specific steps necessary, and it never hurt to be as polite as possible with the Dimitrescu family.

“Just sit down, roll your sleeves up, look pretty, and stay still. Try not to make any noises this time- as cute as they were last time, I have a headache,” Cassandra explains, gesturing towards the room’s only chair. Ignoring the way your cheeks heated up, you did as she asked, trying to get relatively comfortable. It was somewhat difficult to relax, considering who you were with. “Calm down, pet, I’m only going to hurt you a little. That’s more than I can say for most people who end up here.” Why did she have to use a nickname for you? Weren’t you already flushed enough without her teasing you further? Though your flustering does turn to confusion after a moment, as you wonder how she knew how afraid you were. You were under the impression that you were hiding it fairly well. Noticing your reaction, Cassandra rolls her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat. Normally I’d find this… exciting. But my head hurts and I wanted to finish this damn painting yesterday. So take a deep breath, little pet, and let me take what I need from you.”

Of course she had to say it like that, and put herself so close to you. You’re pretty sure that your heart skips a few beats in response, though Cassandra doesn’t react beyond a hint of a smile, merely returning to her prep work. First step was cleaning your skin. Admittedly you hadn’t been sure if that step was necessary, seeing as the blood was (seemingly) for art as opposed to testing, but it didn’t exactly surprise you. Besides, there was a chance she’d drink the leftovers, right? Next she double-checked that the needle was properly connected to the blood bag, and that the latter was resting securely on a small stand. With that out of the way, it was time for her favorite part.

“Since your heartbeat has slowed down a little… I’ll let you whimper if you want to- but only once. Consider it a reward for good behavior,” Cassandra purrs with a familiar grin. One hand gently cups your chin, while her eyes look right in yours, just long enough to turn your cheeks bright red. The moment ends as quickly as it started. Before you know it she’s turned stoic again, feeling along your arm for a vein. This isn’t the first time you’ve had your blood drawn, but Cassandra takes no time at all to find the perfect spot, likely from a mix of practice and, well, her vampiric nature. It’s not long before she’s gently gripping your arm with one hand, briefly making eye contact before pushing the needle into your skin. Does it hurt? Hardly. Do you take a shaky inhale, hoping to please your employer, the closest to a whimper you were willing to give her? Oh, absolutely. And does she react? Oh, absolutely. Her eyes light up for a second as she bites her lower lip. There’s something else in her expression that you can’t quite read, however.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” You ask, smiling, voice soft in the hopes of not aggravating her headache. It’s a risk, and one that pays off more than you’d ever expect. Cassandra giggles a tad, eying you with the least mischievous smile you’ve ever seen from her. If not for the needle still in your arm, you might have found the moment charming, or even… romantic. But you pushed the thought away as soon as possible, reminding yourself of your one true goal: Escaping. This was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Even as Cassandra ever-so-gently removed the needle from your arm, even as she carefully placed a bandage over the entry-point, even as she gave you a nod of approval.

“This should last until the painting is done, at the very least. I might need you to make another ‘donation’ next week, though. Except, hmm… your blood is quite nice,” Cassandra says. Her tone is smooth, almost sultry, but her gaze is focused on her work as she starts mixing the blood with… something? You weren’t familiar with this particular artistic process, nor did you want to be. “Maybe I’ll set up a nice schedule for you. Once a month you can be my darling little muse, and once a month you can be a refreshing snack. I’ll even make sure that my sisters don’t do anything that might spoil our fun. Assuming you continue to prove entertaining, that is.” You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. In the end you settled for the former, chest thrumming with excitement as you felt yourself getting one step closer to your goal.

—————————

Three months pass by in an easy blur. Just as Cassandra had suggested, you find yourself in her company more often than before. Only twice a month does she take blood from you, for your own safety (which she pretends not to care about), but more and more you find her lounging around where you’re working, obviously by “pure coincidence”. Sometimes she even spoke to you! Teasing here and there, or asking you to do things that she normally did for herself, or scaring you just to hear you make one of your “lovely noises”. Honestly, you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by how attached she had gotten to you, or by how quickly it had happened. Of course, you didn’t even know if she enjoyed your personality… or just your blood. Either way, you found yourself enjoying her presence more than you’d ever openly admit.

Eventually, when the benefits of your budding “friendship” became more clear, you started to enjoy it even more.

It was early in the morning, right when the castle residents tended to go to sleep, and when the night shift officially ended. Minutes prior you had been conversing quietly with Cassandra, dusting some shelves as you did. Now, with your duties done only slightly later than usual, you were making your way back to your quarters. Along the way you were caught off guard by the sound of distant crying. ‘Twas a sound you’d heard many times before, from many different maidens, but this time felt… different. An odd feeling of sympathy sparked in your chest, and you made the brash decision to approach the source of the noise. When you rounded that last corner, when you made eye contact with the trembling figure, you knew that your kindness could very well be the death of you. To think that you had once hoped for this encounter.

“Who’s there?” Bela Dimitrescu snarls through chattering teeth. She’s moving forward, phasing in and out of swarm mode, reaching a hand out to clutch at your throat. Well, you think, at least she’s stopped crying? More so out of being distracted, instead of feeling any comfort from your company. It’s not a terribly reassuring thought, but it’s soon replaced with a mental string of ???? as Bela pauses, grip loosening as she holds you up in the light. “You’re Cassandra’s new favorite. Damnit!” With that she drops you rather unceremoniously. Then she’s turning her back to you, sniffling before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this, or I won’t hesitate to string you up, no matter what my sister says. Now get lost.”

Except you can’t force yourself to move. There’s a small piece of you that remembers your original plan, another small part feels a twinge of sympathy, and a majority of your brain sees this as an opportunity. What was a little more risk?

“Would you like me to bring you some tea, Lady Bela?” You ask, attempting to keep your tone neutral, lest she think you were judging her. In response, she turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed, thinly veiled rage only outweighed by the remnants of her anxiety. Then she’s stalking forward with cautious, deliberate movements. For a moment she searches your eyes for any hints at your motive. Hoping to ease her worries, you elaborated on your offer, and the reasoning behind it. “I’ve read that holding something warm in your hands, like a mug of tea or coffee, relaxes the brain. I believe it had something to do with mimicking human touch?... Forgive me if I’m overstepping your boundaries, my Lady. I… I felt compelled to ask, to help in whatever way I can.”

“Oh?” Bela hums, the majority of the anger draining from her face. There’s a hint of genuine surprise behind her bright eyes. “Very well, if you say it might… help.” Before you can turn to leave, you hear her clear her throat, and say one last thing. “A little softer than I would have expected from a pet of Cassandra’s.” She certainly had a point. But you don’t bother responding, instead focusing on your self-given task. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you were really Cassandra’s “pet”, or if there was more to your dynamic. Why did you feel so weird about the idea of being a mere “distraction” to her?... Something to think about while you made that tea, you supposed.

—————————

When you assisted with serving lunch the next day, Bela refused to make eye contact, even as you set a plate in front of her, or when you refilled her wine glass. There was a stiffness in the room that you weren’t familiar with. For the most part, Cassandra is more welcoming, giving you a small nod when you meet her gaze. By the time the family is done eating and moves to leave, the sisters are grouping together to speak in hushed voices. While you clean up after them, you cannot help but wonder if they’re discussing the previous night, or if Bela was as adamant about keeping quiet as she had seemed. Regardless, you felt rather good about how the conversation had gone. Hopefully she’s feeling better, you think, surprising yourself. Not that it matters… unless she tells Cassandra, I suppose.

You don’t see her for the rest of the day. It’s a double-edged sword, in a way. On one hand, you find yourself missing her, unused to not interacting with her at all. On the other hand? All the sudden you’re realizing just how involved she’s become with you. Certainly that meant something? Progress towards your eventual goal of escaping? God, you sure hoped so. Thinking about the future, about your plans, lasts you the entire night, thoughts following you all the way into bed. Sleep feels a million years away, and you find yourself staring silently at the ceiling. Unmoving. Damn near unblinking. When there’s the sound of footsteps outside your room, you are more than welcome for the distraction.

“Wake up, little pet,” a voice calls, as your door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. Before you can even sit up, you feel them slide into the bed with you. “It’s too cold in my room. You’re much warmer, aren’t you?” Clearly your darling Cassandra come to entertain herself. Considering how late in the day it is, you feel like you should be upset, and yet you feel yourself daring to wrap your arms around her. For a moment she goes stiff, but she soon relaxes into your touch. “You’re getting so good at knowing what I want from you. Mmm, I think I’ve trained you well,” she teases, shifting onto her back so she can pull you onto her chest. Although you’ve been this close to her before, this is the first time you’ve realized just how cold her skin is. No wonder she wants to sleep with me, you think, blushing at your unintentional wording.

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” you mumble, curling up against her nonetheless. She’s laughing then, without any hint of her usual malice, and you can’t help but laugh with her. When had the two of you gotten so warm with each other? Why did it feel so natural? There’s anxiety gnawing at the base of your skull, threatening to build up into a headache, tugging you away from the softness of the moment. If Cassandra notices, she’s quicker to act than you would have expected. It feels safer to believe that her next actions are a coincidence. Feels… better, when you remember that you are playing her for cheap, that any friendliness is a mockery made for the most bitter of betrayals to come.

“That’s why I’m here, dear. Now hush, I need some rest. With how comfortable you are… I may even let you sleep in,” she teases, before pressing the gentlest kiss to the top of your head. Your throat dries up in response, blush overtaking your cheeks, and you are left unable to speak. The thundering of your heart seems to somehow lull your would-be lover to sleep, while you find yourself growing to love the contrast her chill provides. Somehow, someway, you end up sleeping more soundly than you have in years.

—————————

Another month passes. No opportunities to escape, no grand moves to make in this 4D game of chess, no clever plans to entangle yourself in. Yet you find yourself content. Happy. The work keeps you as busy as ever, but Cassandra often steals you away for her own desires. When she goes to drink your blood, she does so gently, with many soft kisses leading into the big moment. Afterwards she cleans your wound herself, touches as light as a feather, eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. At night, you find her coming to you for warmth almost every day. At first she provides little more than teasing excuses. But in time, she becomes more open, even being so bold as to kiss you on the lips every time, greeting you with quiet “dear”s and “darling”s. It gets to the poin that you cannot sleep without her presence.

Day after day, you find it harder and harder to remember why you were doing this. Was it so bad to enjoy your time with her? Was it so bad to find yourself leaning into her touches, kissing her back, gleefully awaiting your nightly rendezvous with her? Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, guilt and shame alike dancing inside your chest. Those days were the hardest to get through. Somehow, again and again, you go to her for comfort. To the very source of your conflict. Every last feeling was driving you towards an inevitable point. A conclusion written in stone, one that had been decided from the very first time Cassandra dug her fangs into your neck.

—————————

Screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming, somehow more pained than that of any maiden you had ever heard, echoing throughout the castle halls, achingly familiar in tone. You had never heard her scream before, and yet you knew that the sound came from Cassandra. Before you can even begin to process your realization, you are thundering through the corridor, towards the noise that rattled your mind so desperately. How could anything possibly hurt her? How often had you seen her push her siblings around, each of them taking hits that could break bones as if they were light shoves? As if the punches tickled? Horror overtakes your thoughts, imagination far worse than reality had any right to be.

When you at last reach your lover, you are frozen in your tracks, eyes wide as can be. There she is, howling with both rage and pain as someone repeatedly slams the butt of a rifle into her head. Behind the fighting duo is a sight you never thought you’d see: An open door. Wide open, enticing, leading straight into the world you had sought to rejoin. You want to leave. God, you want to leave so bad. This is what you have been waiting for- Cassandra has not even seen you yet, too busy grappling with her attacker, movements too slow to be normal. What was wrong? Why were her limbs such a strange color? Was that… frost on her clothes? Or… crystal? Your gaze flickers back and forth between her and the exit, as time seems to pause, memories of the past few months racing through your mind. Goddamnit, you think, this is what I want, isn’t it? Consequences be damned, right? I said I wouldn’t stop for anything.

And so you move, automatically, on autopilot, unable to think about anything other than what you treasured most: Cassandra. One moment you’re standing still in the foyer, the next you’re grabbing a poker from the fireplace. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the movements come naturally, as you surge towards the scrambling pair. In one swift motion you drive the metal rod into the skull of the intruder, hating the sound, hating the splatter of blood against your clothes, hating the feeling of resistance followed by a terrible, terrible give. But the man slumps almost immediately, allowing your girlfriend to shove him off of herself. Still unable to think coherently, you’re throwing yourself into her arms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I- I, fuck. Are you…? Fucking tell me that you’re okay, please,” you ramble, holding the dangerously cold body of your girlfriend close to you, refusing to let go. She’s crying, clinging to you as desperately as you cling to her. But she’s responding in the affirmative. Over and over, saying she’s okay, telling you that it’s okay. Before you know it, she’s the one comforting you.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me, take a deep breath. If anyone should be freaking out it’s me,” she says, pulling back enough to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s blood on her fingers, making your eyes go wide, but she quickly wipes it off with a scowl. Then she’s caressing your skin again, soft repeating motions perfect for calming you down. “That’s right, see? We’re fine. You’re a fucking badass, darling, and honestly? It’s very attractive.” Now you’re both giggling, you a bit more than her. Because of course she’s flirting right now. It’s an incredible softness. One that you, quite frankly, do not feel you deserve. At first it’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, but it soon grows until it strikes the smile from your lips. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” you interject, as fast as you can, ignoring the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra isn’t convinced, however, and gives you a pleading look. Knowing that you cannot resist her, you close your eyes, sighing, then admit your wretched truth. “The door. Cassandra, the door’s open. I… I came down the hallway and I saw the two of you and I saw the fucking door and I… I hesitated. I hesitated.” There’s a mighty tremble to your voice, teeth and lips shaking. In the moment, you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze, eyes instead glued to the bloodstained floor. It’s so quiet that you swear you can hear your tears hitting the tile. The air around you is filled with a looming heartache, a shadow over the two of you, hungry for your tears. But the rage you anticipate from Cassandra never comes.

For fuck’s sake, she pulls you closer. She takes you in her arms, making you rest your head against her chest, one hand gently rubbing circles into your back. Shock makes you unable to do anything other than linger limply in her grip. Thankfully, she has more than enough words for the both of you.

“Of course you did. All you ever wanted was to escape, right? And all I ever wanted was to see how much fun I could get out of you before you betrayed us,” she admits, coolly, as if the words didn’t break both of your hearts. At first, you merely start crying harder, realizing that she had seen through you this whole time. Realizing that all of her softness had just been sharpness covered in sheep’s clothing. Except she’s not done talking. “Now look at us. Couple of idiots who caught feelings. So shut up, because we’re in this mess together, now, and I don’t intend to let you go, understood? You-” she pulls back, looking you right in the eyes- “are mine. Besides… you just killed for me. I think that more than makes up for any hesitance, yeah?” Before you know it you’re kissing her. You’re pressing yourself to her, smiling through your tears, forced to pause to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous had this whole affair been? How had you convinced yourself, for so long, that escape was all you had cared about?...

All this time you thought you wanted out. But at the end of the day… you just wanted to go home. How could you have guessed that you would have found a new home, here, in someone’s arms? Despite the surprise of it all… you couldn’t be happier.

[embers-archive]

hello there could I mayhaps get a george not found in the "fool" colours. 💕💗💖👍 for your little art game thingy. uhhh do you need an emotion as well or?

Ahhh this was very fun!! Never drawn George before so twas a nice challenge :]