#we're doing self portraits again

[dawntheduckrb]

Someone drew pearl on a wall in the art building lol

[frankenbridez]

MATTEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *falls 2 my knees* 💐💘✨💖💥💥💥

makes that loud ass howling basset hounds do 🔊🔊🔊

🌹🍓💋red draws for my @frankenbridez ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

[storgicdealer]

ok gang. its theory time

the analysis of the new mercenary scene. meta, blueprints and time

warning it is incredibly choppy because of the chaos i am in rn !!!!!! but anyways

okay so. the video cuts off at green&red defending themselves but i doubt that really means a lot

the glitching. it IS reminding me of the way chosens memories were scanned through. but mercs having a whole tv remote?? chosens memories mightve as well pushed them to use youtube ?? but why didnt they access it earlier ?? why vic didnt???

bc of these question im more willing to think they themselves decided to use youtube right now. maybe only right now !

this raises a ton of questions. does outernet have somewhat of an access to internet after all? is it just their own tech? (could be supported by the fact that if youtube was common there i doubt theyd be using specifically television for it. i feel like theyd use other screens instead without a need of a remote especially considering how advanced their tech is)

still possible that it is common. considering they aren't that focused on it and there are random workers in the bg literally enjoying the show

this whole thing is VERY meta lol but i do think the mercs are the ones that influenced the stream in this way

A BIG portion of alan drawing a flower from ava season 2 is paid attention to in the glitching scene for some reason ?? maybe as a note for his and secs alliance.

the video then cuts off and goes to victim again. the whole video was watched through

the stream cuts off to mercs. **RIGHT** at the moment chosen notices the freedom stick rights article. based on the vid it could be just primal messing with shit but i feel it was intentional. (ha. freedom? loser. we're here instead)

later. the video resumes at victim again. i didnt see any changes to vics or chosens ending.

okay. the mercs. pulling up screenshots for this one

i. cant decipher THAT much even though the quality is 1080p for me.

but i DO see that the first blueprint has as i suppose the hover ??

the text pinpoints "power core" and its pretty much the most readable thing for me. another one is kyokaz was here its just a cameo

the blueprint shows buttons? perhaps the controller of the hover? going to a circle thingy. perhaps what is working inside the hover

the whole thing on the left corner says f___ complex but i cant decipher

second screenshot. the blueprint left to the first one looks like a pc?? and its not surprising even in the screenshot itself bc. the mercs have one to the right corner behind em

now. third sc.

HELLO?

firstly. A VIC DRAWING????? WITH A GUN????

there is a possibility of it being any stick but. i feel its victim. in my guts

shooting?? what. for.

it is scribbled out . . .

there is a possibility (along with the self portrait of vics in the unused bg) that it was just. him doodling. it would kill me actually because he is no great artist like sec. just a doodler (<words of flareboi here)

now. this

again . the question how they accesed it.

if they can get youtube to open there. how did vic not know of the showdown. of sec

showdown was uploaded online. that was literally in canon !!!

unless there's a rule that not everything internet-like and youtube like can be accessible. but i dont really think of any implications that proved that

except. for the fact that showdown was already uploaded. before the ep even ended. would it imply time passing differently in both realms?

lord i needed to scream it out.

OH GOD !!!!!!!!!!!

[highlynerdy]

"I do it because I want to protect him from the world, and sometimes from myself. I want to tell him every secret I ever had, and yet I never want to make him choose, to see the hurt in his eyes, to put this, too, on him. I want-I want so many things. Sometimes, I just want."

Turning The Page by @queerofthedagger / art by @schweetheart

I started this fanARTifact in July 2021 and finally, finally finished it in September 2024. Click below to see so many more pictures and read probably too much about the project.

This project was a LABOR OF LOVE because y'all...I failed so, so many times during the making of it. I had grand dreams of all the things that I was going to do and learn and every single time I tried something it was like the universe telling me to go ahead and go fuck myself, we're not doing that. But it's done and I'm pleased with it. I hope Mona and Schweets are. Let's talk about the process.

I read this story back in July 2021 when it came out and immediately wrote @schweetheart on July 23, 2021 to ask if I could use her art for the back because it was such a crucial part of the story.

She graciously allowed me to use it, and even sent me a high res file so I could have the portrait of Arthur printed on art paper.

THEN. My brilliantly stupid self decided that just making the book wasn't enough. I mean, I had already done that for Arthur's journal back in 2020 and I am nothing if not a nutter about learning to do new things, especially for my fanARTifact series.

SO. I'm going to learn to make paper. Yeah. Totally a reasonable escalation in terms of new skills, right?? ......... Nope. I bought a small 5x7 mould and deckle to practice with and some cotton linters to make the pulp. Twas. A. Failure. I didn't have a press or the felts or the sizing needed to make the paper actually, ya know, usable. This was the first time I put the project down for a while.

Moving on to another new skill in late 2021, I decided that I wanted to make the walnut ink myself. Luckily, I was part of a pigment subscription in 2020 (that is a hell of a nerdy statement, even for me) and had all the supplies in my art studio to attempt this endeavor.

I didn't fail this part! Fucking huzzah for small miracles. Now I had two small bottles of black walnut ink to use for the calligraphy that I wanted to do for some of the excerpts. Except now I was stuck again on the paper making part so I put it back down again for an eternity.

Picking it back up in late 2022, I asked Mr. Highlynerdy to make a custom size mould and deckle for me so I could have long pieces to fold for my signatures. It was his first time doing anything like this but he's a buddy and a pal and gave it a try. Surprising no one if you've read this far, we both failed this part. Even now, I'm still not sure we succeeded but eventually we did get something workable. And considering professional mould and deckles cost in the hundreds of dollars...yeah, it'll do.

It took a hot ass minute for me to feel ready to attempt the paper making again but once I was ready, I ordered wet, pre-beaten pulp from Twinrocker. A very curt man on the phone helped me figure out what I needed and added internal sizing to the pulp I ordered. I didn't take pictures of any of the paper stuff because it was very messy and annoying. Once again, Mr. Highlynerdy helped me rig up a drying box with tri-wall cardboard and ratchet straps and a box fan. Once the paper was dry, I used a gelatin mixture to paint on external sizing. Since I'm primarily a painter, I needed the paper to be able to handle ink, paint, pencil. Sizing paper is the only way to do this, but no worries, I won't go further into the nerdy details about this.

Once the paper was ready, I decided to sew the text block. Here's another part where I failed YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. I talked before on Arthur's Journal post about how books were very, very rare in the 6th century (Arthurian period), but BBC Merlin is soooooo anachronistic that it's fiiiiiine to just do what I wanted. HOWEVER. I did want to try to do visible spine binding. But. Unfortunately I had gone ahead and used all of my paper to bind the text block as if I was going to case it in. FUUUUUUUCCCCCK. It's fine. We're fine. Come on, brain. What can we do.

Well, what we CAN'T do is use a piece of leather from my large remnant that I bought for my first journal because someone - FUCKING ME - measured and cut the last piece NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE WIDTH of the text block. So now it doesn't fit. And refusing to buy a new piece of leather I'm forced to pivot once again.

I decided to cut the leather spine even shorter, buy some wood pieces and sand them, paint them a matte black, and then glue the leather to those pieces. Cool cool cool. We're moving on. I tested a lot of different glues for this and good ol' super glue ended up being the clear winner. Cue putting this project away again for a whiiiillle.

In October 2023, I decided to pull it out again and do the calligraphy and drawings I wanted. This story has so many gorgeous parts but I finally decided on the first page, the last page, and the page about Gaius.

I mixed my handmade walnut ink with my beloved Finetec gold and used the quills I bought from John Neal Booksellers to practice my Uncial. I shouldn't have been rusty after lettering an entire fic for this fanARTifact, but I was.

The little dragon was inspired by medieval manuscript dragons I found.

Narratively, I loved the idea that Merlin's writing would start off soft and delicate and become stronger by the end of the journal. Also, I loved that the end word "WANT" would be just gold because the ink blend changes throughout. Something magical or whatever.

This part needed tears. They might have been real ones...

Annnnnnnnd, the project was put down again until a few days ago when I decided, after getting back into Merlin fic, I needed to buck up and finish it.

I did so many tests for the cover. I tried embossing, carving, and debossing and hated all of them. I settled on painting it with acrylic paints in the shape of a Celtic knot sort of pattern. I originally wanted to do a triskelion but after reading a bit about how some asshole groups have co-opted the symbol for shitty purposes, I decided against it. It's a mix of black and gold and it's hard to capture the depth of it through photos...eh, I did what I could.

Still. Something wasn't quite working with the brown leather and the black covers with the new symbol so I broke out my matte black leather paint and decided to go all black.

All I had left to do was glue in the text block and it would be done! And that still took me a few days to work up the courage. The book opens nice and flat, which will be good for me as I will use it as a sketchbook.

Sitting here, on September 1st, I have completed a project that taught me many new skills and also taught me a lot about humility and perseverance. There was no way I was going to abandon this project, and maybe I should have started over many of the times, but I am quite in love with the final result and I just hope that it does it's inspiration proud. Thank you @queerofthedagger Mona for all you create and share with the Merlin fandom, and thank you @schweetheart for allowing me to use your gorgeous art.

Also, you may see quite a few other fanARTifacts in this photoshoot because I will use any opportunity to show them off lol.

If you read to the end of this, you deserve a cocktail and a cookie. Thank you. 💛✨✨

[chaifootsteps]

I think the thing that bugs me most about the 'Stella was always evil and you guys just ignored the signs!' crowd is that they don't seem to realize there's like, scales to how bad characters are?

Stella of season 1 is classist, shrieks a lot and is focused more on her own needs, but there's a difference between that and who she is in season 2 - a 2D abusive monster who in her own words only exists to torment Stolas

the Stella of season 1 didn't seem like a nice person but there was enough room to imagine the marriage had at least been civil once even if it had never been loving (the photo of them all at Loo Loo Land suggests she came along for Via's sake, she phrases it 'our bed' not 'my bed' when she's angry at him for the affair)

fans point to her hogging the covers and not wanting to get up as signs but those arguing about who should get up to comfort a young child and one partner stealing the covers isn't signs of pure evil. it's a sign that Stella is focused on her own needs re: the covers, but not immediately getting up to Via doesn't make her evil since the writers didn't bother showing it's not a pattern that she doesn't pull her weight in the parenting department. same with her not saying good morning to Via when she's older - it's not unreasonable that she's a bit distracted by her husband cheating on her in that moment.

speaking of, the writers caused themselves problems with opening on the fallout of the cheating, because it leads most fans to assume that what they're seeing isn't Stella's usual self and we'd expect to see what her usual demeanor is later, when she isn't in the middle of being furious with Stolas.

the closest s1 gets to showing Stella as the flat baddie she'd become in s2 is her ordering the hit on Stolas, but again the writers fumbled the bag because we don't know if her doing that is unusual for them being in Hell or not. Were we really supposed to think Stella is uniquely bad in s1 when other characters yell at each other just as much as she yells at Stolas (Blitzo, Loona, even Moxxie sometimes) and other characters perform hits and act like attempted murder is nbd (IMP)?

Same with the lack of worldbuilding around how nobility works - fans claim she just cares Stolas slept with an imp 'like a plebian' but then the rest of the show is so wishywashy about whether it matters dating outside one's own social class that it comes off like she was just given this prejudice so she can look uniquely worse (even though Stolas is just as classist, just in a different more objectifying/fetishizing way)

Exactly. Seasons 1 Stella wasn't a pleasant person, but she still shared a bed with Stolas and was upset that he cheated on her in that bed specifically, used to go with Stolas and Via to Loo Loo Land, and the portrait of them together sees her looking almost happy. Stolas starts to say "We weren't in love," showing awareness of the root of the problem, that neither of them wanted this. All of that goes out the window with S2, where we're meant to believe Stella was evil incarnate since she was a toddler and Stolas is God's saddest victim.

Not that it would have saved her either way. In this fandom's mind, "raises voice to Stolas" and "a violent, irredeemable person who deserves humiliation and death" are synonymous.

[weebsinstash]

So like, in the finale there's that shot where the Vees are in Val's section in the Vee Tower, and there's VERY OBVIOUSLY AN OLD PHOTO OF VOX AND ALASTOR

and obviously i have some thoughts and ideas about that BUT I was listening to the song again and I couldn't help but have my eyes drawn to the top left corner... zooom... enhance.... rotate...

VALENTINO SELF PORTRAIT SPOTTED? Because even though I think that's Vox's handwriting, I definitely don't think it's his art, because we've already seen his art and uh, yeah it's definitely not on this level of detail

kinda just sitting here now thinking about... you go up to Val's office at the studio to drop off something someone else asked you to deliver, but he's not there, so you set it down on his desk and can't help but find your eyes drawn to a notebook sitting on a side table with a bunch of pencils next to it and... you can't help but take a peek... and it's surprising how many different drawings are in there and you find it actually pretty impressive, but as you keep flipping the pages, it's like "OH, a drawing of me! That's... kinda weird but it looks so nice! And another of me! And... another... and another... and another... and why do these all have so much detail..."

You basically catch him with the equivalent of Miles Morales' sketchbook full of Gwen and OF COURSE when you close it to turn around and leave, OF COURSE he's behind you and he's SO EMBARRASSED because oh my GOD, you can't just look in an artist's sketchbook without asking?! That's private! He's just, red in the face, flustered, frazzled, squeaking, shouting at you asking what you think you're doing. I just picture you try to calm him down, "I didn't mean to look but your sketches are really good! I'm sorry, I got curious 🥺 I promise it won't happen again" and he's crossing his arms and his antenna are twitching and he's just pouting and grumbling, "just don't fucking do it again" and you avoid being maimed because, aw you complimented him he loves that ❤️

that awkward moment when you open a random sketchbook full of drawings and it turns out to be full of like straight up fucking FILTH, of YOU. Like maybe you're doing PA stuff in Vee Tower and Vox lost a journal full of contact info for something and you're poking around in Val's tower helping look for it because, well, Vox asked you for help! It's kind of an honor! This guy's an Overlord and you got the go ahead to poke around his house to help him look for something! So you're glancing at papers and finally picking up The Sketchbook, and... it's everything from just doodles of you chilling just sitting doing normal shit like being on your phone or asleep in the limo, to potential outfit ideas like DETAILED CUSTOM outfit ideas with TWO different sets of handwriting in the margins, to just straight up PORN. Sketches of you in bondage, tied up, gagged, in spreader bars, on your knees with your mouth gaping open with painfully familiar pink cursive handwriting in a speech bubble where 'you' are begging to taste the viewer, mouth open, tongue hanging out with a trail of spit connecting both of your lips--

AND THE BOOK IS SNATCHED OUT OF YOUR HANDS AS YOU SPIN AROUND TO SEE VALENTINO and he's all but like INFLATED with embarrassment, fur bunching up, antenna flailing, at a loss for words as he looks between you and his sketchbook like he is CAUGHT IN 4K. He would probably completelt deflect and try to act like you snooping is the bigger deal meanwhile you're like "hey dude was that like a full color fully shaded drawing of me in a custom coat that matches your wings and we're making out--" and you wind up having to just scurry away as he becomes incoherently angry and flustered and maybe even threatening you if you don't get out of his room RIGHT FUCKING NOW--

The next time you go to work your shift serving him drinks, he's shoving an outfit at you that you recognize from the sketchbook, a new uniform, and you can't help but notice Velvette looking you over as you serve the Vees drinks, almost as if she's admiring her handiwork...

[pr33tylul]

Request: y/n starts to feel self conscious around Harry and other people.

This request was suggested by @Fr3nch1e

House: gryffindor

Year: 6th year

(Ps No voldy moldy cheese so bambi and lily are alive in this but won't talk or come up 🤭)

(Another thing... STAN JAMES POTTER)

I'll shut up now.

Y/n stood there in her gryffindor dorm room that she had shared with her best friend Hermione granger. She couldn't help but to compare herself to her. She looked in the mirror looking at the reflection, she let a few tears fall. Just standing there in her undergarments sucking in her stomach. She looked away disgusted at her reflection . She put on her robes and looked in the mirror again. "Why couldn't I be pretty like Hermione?" She thought to herself. Hermione was perfect in every way. Why couldn't she have the body like most girls around hogwarts?

She had walked out of the portrait door as the bell to the first class had rang. She'd missed breakfast.

*

"Y/n where we're you? You weren't at breakfast Harry was looking everywhere for you?" Hermione whispered to her friend as they had worked on brewing a potion.

Y/n didn't look up at all as she could feel the chosen ones eyes dig into the back of her skull. "Overslept, sorry" she let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n knew Harry had notice a change in her behaviour, she knew Hermione did to. It wasn't like y/n to 'oversleep.'

"Is everything okay with you? You've been acting a bit different?" Y/n was quick to answer "different? Different how?" She let out another nervous smile. "Y/n I'm your bestfriend if you need to speak to someone you know I'm always here right?" "I know Hermione and everything is fine" she lied.

_

Y/n had sat at the gryffindor table uncomfortable. Ron was stuffing his face like normal, Hermione having her nose stuffed in a book and then Harry just holding her while eating. Y/n looked down at her plate as she started to put on some fruit and some bread. It didn't take her long.

"Is that all you're eating baby?" Harry looked down at her. "Yeah not hungry really. Guess that's what you get for oversleeping"

"So you're not gonna have a slice of butterscotch tart? Your favourite?" Ron had piped up into the conversation. Y/n shook her head as Ron raised his eyebrows. "Weird." He put a spoonful of jelly in his mouth. "Y/n you've been oversleeping all week. What do you do at night?"

She didn't answer Hermione's question. Y/n had carefully moved Harry's hand from around her waist and stood up. "I'll see you after class" she pecked Harry's lips then walked off.

"God Hermione what have you done to the poor girl. Class don't start for another 20 minutes." Ron had laughed while Hermione had rolled her eyes. Harry on the other hand had gotten up and followed her.

Y/n had walked into the common room. Y/n made her way to her dorm to the very same mirror she was looking in this morning.

She lifted up her top to see if she'd looked any bigger. Thoughts ran through her head. Did Harry think she looked overweight? "What was he thinking when he was holding me" she thought. Again tears sliped down her cheeks.

"Y/n?"

She turned to see her lover.

"Harry, shouldn't you Be at lunch?" She wiped the tears and tucked in her shirt. "What's going on? Why are you crying." He moved foward to hold her but she stepped back. "Why do you keep pushing me away?" His voice raised a little.

"Do I look overweight to you?" The question had slipped out. Harry's face had dropped when she said it. "No why would you think that?"

That was it. The tears just kept coming and coming.

"Out of all girls you picked me? Why? There's nothing pretty about me? You could of had Ginny she's perfect for you. Perfect body. She's bloody gorgeous unlike me." She took a breath "I hate myslef Harry. Look at me I'm a disaster!" She shouted. "I'm so fucking ugly, so fat and just disgusting" she cried.

"Y/n you have no idea how wrong you are. Love your perfect. In every way shape or form. Your not fat or ugly. Your beautiful. That cute little laugh you have, that smile" he walked closer to her. Wrapping her arms around her. "No one's perfect" she looked away from him. "But your perfect to me" He forced her to look at him. "I fell in love with you because of how nice and caring you are. How beautiful you are. I love every little thing about you and that includes your body."

Y/n had let out a little smile as Harry wiped her tears away.

"I love you, so much" y/n said pulling him into a kiss. "I love you too, always."

[averageclawcodeenjoyer]

Analyzing things in ATSV part one

Okay so I have to be absolutely insane about Ganke for a bit, so this will probably take up several posts because screenshots/videos galore.... ermmmmm....

HAVE FUN (will edit and update as needed)

I'm going to start off by analyzing this piece of concept art

Taking a look at Ganke's tapestry on his wall, that absolutely looks like the CS:GO logo, just flipped and without the text. Ex:

Taking a look at more things on the walls as well:

1) who is doing this math. Is it Ganke? Is it Miles? Is it both of them? I like to think that is is Ganke writing things down and then coming back to them later, or, maybe Miles writes things down and Ganke corrects them/adds stuff.

2) I'm pretty sure that says deadly twins. Is this a game? Movie? A play on words? Makes me think of seven deadly sins, but I'm not too knowledgeable in the world of entertainment.

3) (not the jet) is this a schedule? Lunch schedule, perhaps? It's on the bulletin board in the final cut of their dorm as well, just redesigned. Has to be something school event related. It says "Spring 2023 Brooklyn ________ Academy." I can't make out the middle word.

4) I just like the little spider included in the drawing :3 Miles FOSHO draws all over the whiteboard all the time. I love it.

5) I love love LOVE the stickers he put on the drawers, and I'm guessing there also from video games, but again, not good with logos. If anyone knows though please tell me and I will put it on here.

6) I think it's neat that they have a poster of a bunch of cassette tapes on the door. That was definitely Miles's doing, as well as the record player that i found in there (it's his way of honoring Aaron.)

7) Peep the No Expectations drawing on Miles's side of the bunk. I love the little Easter eggs all over. This is so special to me. Makes me think of the Chekhov's gun principal that they did with the Spider in ITSV and are continuing in Across.

8) Ohhhhh so he's a soccer guy. I wonder if he likes the sport, players, or had played it himself. Maybe that's why he got buff, bit I doubt it (BRING ME BACK LOSER NERD CHUB GANKE)

9) Taking a look at the photographs that Ganke has and comparing them to what I could find in the final product. Ganke has a camera on his desk, so obviously he takes all of these himself, but we will get to that later.

10) This looks like a picture of himself to me. Self portrait. Look at that blurred out smile. It's either him, or one of his parents, but I'm guessing it's of himself. Did someone take that for him, or did he take it? Maybe it was Miles.

11) might again be a stretch, but it looks almost like two people leaning against each other. Headcanon that Ganke is just like Lilo and takes pictures of random people interacting for funsies (reminds me of them Gwen & Miles leaned on each other on the building but I have HIGH doubts it is that)

12) ..Again, just bullshitting here. But this reminds me of the scene from ITSV where Gwen and Miles first were introduced to each other. Could he totally off, but there were a lot of kids in the background that resembled and could have been Ganke. Who knows what that kid does in his free time. (I bet he has a lot of photos of Miles that he doesn't know about...)

13) i don't have any idea of what this could be but uhh.... we're open to discussion. Train???

14) Looks like a party. A school dance perhaps? Winter formal? Homecoming? Something. Reminds me of the Prom scene in Gwen's universe.

___

I absolutely love all the stuff they have in their dorm room for food. Those sillies!! Look at them! Eating dinner together! Fully equipped! Who owns this shit! Banking on Ganke owning most of it because like... just look at his fucking setup.

15) Here's that record player I was talking about!!!! I wonder if it's a brand new one of something Miles got when they went through Aaron's stuff after he died...

16) Coffee machine even though Ganke drinks like 7 energy drinks a day (this boys' coffee addiction is.... wow. Also personally I feel like Miles wouldn't really be too fond of coffee. Imagine if the caffeine messed with his venom strike and caused him to chock everything and himself a billion times lmao)

17) what is this???? Is this some kind of like.... portable burner, or something?????? So they can boil water/use a pan??????? If anybody knows it would be GREATLY appreciated.

18) We've seen the air fryer/rice cooker with googly eyes and I love that... oh, I bet that was Miles's doing. Maybe as a prank or a joke to mess with Ganke and they kept it. There's so much personality here.

19) ignoring the condiments for a moment- THEY AHVE A MINIFRIDGE???? DO THEY EVER NEED TO LEAVE THEIR DORM, ACTUALLY????? It almost looks like it has sparkling/seltzer water in it but.. gross. They really decked this place out, huh.

20) and in ITSV there's a microwave too. Everything to fuel Ganke's crippling chronically online illness.

21) SPRAY CANS!!!! Oh how wonderful. These are hidden/scattered throughout their finished dorm, too. I love that. I wonder if Ganke and Miles ever become delinquents and go off to graffiti stuff. (However, I don't see Ganke as being very artistic when it comes to things like that, so maybe he just tags along with Miles and acts as lookout.

22) FIDGET spinner!!!!!!! Oh boy. Oh boy. I know that these were a big thing a couple years back, but please consider... Audhd Ganke.... thank you.

23) is this an alarm clock? Radio???? Why do they need another source for music when they have like... three.. seperate ways.... okay.

24) You cannot convince me that this isn't Yoda. Or at least a similar character.. but I'm banking on Yoda. WHY DID THEY CHANGE SO MUCH STUFF THERE WAS SO MUCH PERSONALITY HEREEEEEEER

25) look at this slanted ass bowl. This supports something I will talk about later, but keep him in mind.

26) SKATEBOARD! Does Ganke skateboard??? Oh man. Oh boy. It's Canon because I said so. Skateboary Ganke!! You think he goes somewhere with Miles just to show off the tricks that he knows. I do. It's also his because it's leaning on his bed and there is a pretty clear separation of whose side of the room is whose.

27) Here is laptop #1

28) BIGASS speakers they deafen EVERYONE when they start playing music.

29) HIS FUCKING PC??? BROTHER, WHY DOES HE HAVE THAT EXPENSIVE ASS PIECE OF EQUIPMENT IN HIS DORM ROOM. WHAT DOES HE HAVE AT HOME?????? Bros got eh curved screen and everyrhing. Also is he making MUSIC. Ganke in his producer era (what genre do you think he makes?) Also, not pictured, but he has a Webcam, too. StreamerGanke....

30) HERES THAT CAMERA I MENTUONED EARLIER!!!! He has hobbies other than gaming like... photographing Miles.. and......... taking.. pictures of Miles..

31) is this some kind of console, maybe? We see him playing the Spider-Man 2 game, which is playable on both PC and Playstation, but I'm pretty sure it's confirmed that Ganke is, in fact, playing it on his ps5 (do not quote me on this that is what Google has told me...)

32) his professional-ass microphone.... pray that nobody ever finds out the kind of LOOT you have, Lee, or you will be robbed blind. (Not sure if this is still kept in the finished version, I'll have to check) ((also the stuff on his bulletin board? Brother.... broski you live with him.. you don't need to have him beside you on the daily))

33) This looks like an IPad to me, but I could br wrong. Also, he's watching Miles on it!!! COME ON. I know Spider-Man is his favorite superhero and all.. but come on, this is "person-who-has-crush-behavior" and I don't think that's too wild of me to say...

34) look at him with his little soundboard!! In the final version it ends up looking more like a keyboard than what it does right now, but he obviously makes music on the side as well. He's so dear to me.

35) This little drawer pulls out on his desk!! Where he stops his billionth keyboard and mouse. (In another angle of their dorm, in ITSV, their is a random unused keyboard propped up against the wall)

36) ANOTHER FUCKING LAPTOP. Bro has one for his games, one for school, one for talking to his online friends, and one for coding stg /hyperbolic

37) Here is the console for his computer. Simply that. Just astounding to me.

___

Just look at how much mire comfortable they are with each other now versus ITSV!!!!!! Good friends, good match, good sillies. The only thing I DONT like is the inconsistencies of the room... but perhaps they got a different dorm room this year and still chose to bed down together. Historians will just call them best friends.. rommates... anything but lovers.

Oh you thought I was done?

No.

No, I have one more thing to say.

One more tiny, tiny detail I fished out while studying their room.

Are you ready?

In the concept art.

Underneath Ganke's desk.

Is a bag.

And what's on that bag?

Some pins.

Oh but what's that?

That yellow one??

Is that the intersex flag?

Is that another game logo that I'm too uncultured to understand, is that just a coincidence, or, is Ganke intersex?

I don't know enough about people that are intersex to get into it, but.. Has anybody else noticed this?

I can't find it in the finished version... but. But guys. Guys.

Please tell me your thoughts on this.

I'm going to analyze that scene in ITSV with the hyperlapse of Miles sleeping and Ganke.. dicking off all night next. Might not be tomorrow but it will happen.

Edit:

I gave Ganke longer hair because he looks bald without it. THATS ALL BYE

Part 1.5

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 5

Chapter 4 here

******

"Please, have a seat," as you motioned to the seat on the other side of your desk.  Shouta and you both sat down in your respective seats, and he looked around your desk for a moment.  It was primarily scattered with the kids' drawings, but over to the side, there was a picture of you and Kento from your engagement photoshoot.  Even though he's been gone for years, you never had the heart to take it down.  You had told yourself it was a reminder of the decision you had made back at his funeral, but now you were having complicated feelings about everything.

"Is that you and your husband?" Shouta asked, finally speaking up first.  "Oh...oh. That's...that was my fi-fiance, Kento. He passed away a few years ago."  Shouta looked over at you, "I see. I'm sorry."  You looked over at the picture for a moment, then looked back over at Shouta, "thank you."  You two sat there in an awkward silence for another moment, until you said to Shouta, "so, you wanted to tell me about Eri's past and why she's here?"  His shoulders seemed to relax a little bit after the awkwardness, simply replying, "yes."  

Shouta then went on to explain everything from the beginning.  For years, she was used and abused as an experiment to make a Quirk-Destroying drug by the leader of the Shie Hassaikai, Overhaul.  "Her body was destroyed then restored over and over again by Overhaul's Quirk," Shouta said with venom in his voice.  He then went on to explain how he Shie Hassaikai joined forces with the League of Villains, which is when the rescue plan was put in order by a pro-hero named Sir Nighteye.  After much grief and loss, Mirio and a boy named Izuku Midoriya were finally able to rescue Eri, with Mirio losing his Quirk in the process.

"Eri lived a very fearful and secluded life," Shouta stated.  "We never saw her smile for the first time until long after she was rescued, when Mirio took her to the U.A. School Festival.  I've been working with her since then on maintaining her Quirk.  Overall, she shows to be better, but I thought this class could also, in a way, provide a form of therapy to her that the U.A. can't."  You sat there and just looked at Shouta with tears in your eyes; what a heartbreaking situation for a young girl to go through.  You blinked back your tears, trying to remain professional, and brought out some of Eri's artwork.

You slid her self-portrait across the desk to Shouta stating, "this is one that has concerned me the most so far."  Shouta picked up the drawing from the desk and observed it.  "Interesting..." you heard him say for the second time now.  "It's difficult to tell, but this looks like the outfit she was in when she was being held captive in. She had on a tan dress and was covered in bandages."  He put the drawing back down and you automatically looked down at it, saying "it seems she still views herself that way for some reason."  "I agree," Shouta replied, "I'll talk with her about it tonight after we're done training."  

"What exactly are you training her on, if you don't mind my asking?"  He looked up at you thoughtfully for a moment, "I'm helping her train on controlling her Quirk since she was never taught how to. She's shown tremendous progress so far, but still has a ways to go."  You smiled at him in response, "you're pretty remarkable, you know that? You spend your days teaching and training students on becoming heroes, then you spend your evenings training Eri. It takes a pretty special person to do something like that."  Shouta slightly blushed and looked down at his lap, quietly saying, "it's not a big deal."  You just smiled again in response.

He looked back up at you, "the colors she chose for her mandala..." he trailed off, "I believe she associates those colors with Overhaul," to which he explained what Overhaul's outfit consisted of.  "Ah, it makes sense why you said it was interesting when you first saw it. I promise, I will do my best to continue working with Eri through her trauma, and help her become the best version of herself," you said with confidence to Shouta.  "It seems like she is also in excellent hands with everyone at the U.A., so between that and her art therapy, I'm confident that she'll heal."  

It was Shouta's turn to smile at you, "thank you for taking her into your class, Y/N. She thinks very highly of you, saying you're very kind to her. I can tell you're a warm person, and I appreciate you now being a part of not only her healing process, but her life."  Now it was your turn to blush.  "Listen, I don't normally do this, but I would like to give you my personal phone number in case you ever need me for anything...for Eri, of course."  You wrote your phone number down on a piece of paper, and slid it across the desk to him.  "Thank you, Y/N, I appreciate that. I'll give my number as well, in case something happens in the classroom or you're concerned about anything...regarding Eri."

He ripped off a small piece of paper from the one you gave him, wrote his number down on it, and slid it back across the desk to you.  "Well, I better get back to the campus. I have training with Eri and I also have papers to grade. Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to talk to me."  You smiled over at him, "it was my pleasure."  You both got up at the same time, and you walked him over to the door.  "Thank you, Shouta, for everything you've been doing for Eri; I can tell you've been such a positive influence in her life; she's lucky to have someone like you."  He smiled at you once more, said goodbye, then took his leave.  You couldn't help but stand there and stare at him walking away.

You went back to your desk, picked up the piece of paper with Shouta's number on it, and plugged his number into your cell phone.  You then noticed yourself smiling the whole while.  After you finished putting his name and number in your contacts list, you put your phone down, and took a deep breath.  Sure, Shouta had some sort of effect over you that you couldn't explain, but you only have his phone number for Eri's sake.  That was all.  At least, that's what you told yourself, as you continued to smile down at Shouta's name in your contacts list.

******

To be continued...

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy ; @ivydoesit23

[leiawritesstories]

swords and sea breezes, 3

part one // part two //

word count: 3.5k (oops)

warnings: weapons, pirates, swearing ;)

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After two weeks with the pirates of the Queen's Cadre, Aelin was convinced that Rowan was deliberately sailing in large circles to throw her off. Little did he know that she had an impeccable sense of direction, and she'd seen the same constellations in a circular pattern over the last fortnight.

She may be the wealthy young heiress to the Ashryver-Galathynius duchy, but she was no vapid damsel.

Aelin yawned as she strolled into the galley, stretching her arms above her head. Thanks to Elide's daily knife lessons, her body was remembering the skills she'd learned as a young girl before her parents had decided that self-defense was unladylike, and her aim and accuracy were rapidly growing sharper. Almost too rapidly---she had to remind herself not to advance too quickly lest the pirates suspect she was hiding more than her weapons skills.

"Morning, everyone!" she chirped as she picked up a tin mug and filled it with coffee. The dark, bitter beverage had been strictly a servants' drink in her family home, and she reveled in the freedom to drink it, though she had to stir in nearly half as much sugar as coffee.

"Hullo, milady," drawled Fenrys, one of the ship's two lookouts. "Much better of a mornin' now that you're here with me."

"Your flattery is entirely unnecessary, Fen," Aelin smirked. "I'm still not going to let you into my bed."

Fen shrugged and draped one broad arm around her shoulders. "I'm a patient man, sweetheart."

"Like hell you are, Fenny," Elide scoffed, fondly tugging on the man's curly blonde braid.

He squawked in protest. "Don't mess up the beauty, Lochan!"

She snorted. "Is that what you tell the endless string of partners you bring into your room every time we're in port? Because I recall you saying something very different."

"What happens in my bedroom---"

"Can't possibly stay in your bedroom, because we all have eyes and ears," Aelin cut in, grinning. She winked at Fen as she sipped from her sugary coffee. "Right?"

"All I'm sayin' is that it proves my prowess," he sniffed, pretending to be offended by the good-natured teasing.

"Aye, is that what you tell yourself at night, Fenny boy?" Rowan strode into the galley, and once again, Aelin had to force her heartbeat to remain calm and steady at the sight of the man.

"Sure is, Captain!" With a blindingly sunny grin, Fenrys got up, tipped his empty mug in a salute, and tossed the cup across the room. It landed neatly in the dirty dish bin. "Right, I'm headed up to the lookout."

Rowan nodded. "You know what to do if you spot anything." He picked up two bowls of oat porridge, thanked the cook, and sauntered over to sit directly across from Aelin. "Good morning, my lady."

She arched a brow. "If it's such a good morning, why are we still sailing in circles?"

The galley---hell, the whole damn ship---went silent.

Very, very slowly, Rowan raised his eyes to hers, unable to hide the pure unfiltered shock in them. With his spoon frozen halfway to his lips, a blob of porridge splattered on the table from where it had fallen, he made a perfect portrait of incredulity. "What?!"

"Don't play stupid with me, Whitethorn." Aelin placed her hands flat atop the worn wooden table. "You are clearly clever enough to sail in a wide pattern so that ordinary people wouldn't suspect we aren't going anywhere, but you forget that I am not ordinary."

"Clearly," Rowan whispered, something almost like awe hidden beneath the rasp of his voice. He cleared his throat, placed his spoon back in his bowl, and narrowed his gaze, his moment of wonder shifting to calculation. "How long have you known we're sailing in circles, Aelin?"

The rest of the ship was utterly silent, waiting with bated breath for their captive's answer.

She shrugged. "I realized several days ago that the constellations looked the same as they had on my first night here, and further observation confirmed that we're traveling in a circular pattern."

"You got all that from the...stars?"

"You can't believe a noblewoman would know how to track the stars?" she shot back, irritation sparking her blood.

"Actually, that part is no surprise." Rowan tipped his head to the side, assessing her. "My shock comes from how you didn't hesitate to confront me in front of my entire crew."

"I thought an audience would keep you honest." She sipped her coffee, willing her expression to remain calm, if a bit smug.

He huffed in disbelief. "Well, it certainly did." His lips tipped up into a grin. "Eat, Aelin." He pushed the second bowl across to her.

She stared blankly at the bowl. "I'm not on any kind of hunger strike, Rowan. There's no need to be concerned that your ticket to Dorian Havilliard's whatever-it-is will keel over from starvation."

Rowan chuckled, low and throaty and warm. "Would you believe me if I said this was an attempt at proper manners?"

"What are those?" With an angelically innocent smile, Aelin picked up the spoon and took a bite of the porridge. For ship's fare, it was surprisingly good---steaming hot and slightly sweetened with sugar and a hint of warm spices.

"Something you constantly remind me I lack." Rowan's smirk lit up his features, and Aelin couldn't help but return it. That calculation had returned to his gaze, though, and he had the decency to wait until she was finished eating before he took up his usual train of questions. "Perhaps we're sailing in circles because we know we're near the island."

Aelin burst into laughter.

Rowan's brows quirked. "We could be."

"Awfully hard for you to be near something that doesn't exist," Aelin chuckled. She brushed a few loose strands of wavy red hair out of her face. "It's been two weeks, Rowan. Surely you have enough sense to tell that I'm used to your questions."

"Apparently not," he muttered, half to himself. Abruptly, he stood up, collecting both his and her empty bowls and setting them in the dish bin as he left the galley.

That went fucking brilliantly, Galathynius, Aelin thought to herself, mentally giving herself a slap upside the head for potentially revealing more than she was ready to reveal. She stood up, waved cheerily to the few crewmen still lounging around, and tossed her empty mug into the bin as she left.

She stopped at her room to tie back her hair and strap her two daggers to her hips before she went up to the deck to meet with Elide. They had developed a routine of training in the mornings, when the heat wasn't quite so bad, though Elide had been trying to convince her to start shooting pistols with the crew in the evenings.

But Aelin and explosives were...a bad combination. For many reasons.

"Ready to pick up a gun yet, milady?" Elide joked as Aelin came up to the deck.

"Ask again when pigs fly," Aelin laughed, taking her stance next to Elide and stretching her arms above her head. "I'll keep to my knives for now, thank you very much."

Elide shrugged. "Suit yourself." She spun a pair of ebony-handled pistols around her thumbs, squeezed the triggers, and with a bang and two puffs of smoke, two of the bottles sitting on the deck railing burst into shards.

"You weren't lying about being the best sharpshooter here," Aelin mused, in awe of Elide's skills.

"Course not." The shorter woman raised one of the pistol's muzzles and blew the curls of smoke away from its barrel. "Why else d'ya think I have the grumpiest man on this ship on his knees for me?"

"Gods above," Aelin groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "We already hear you two every night."

"Damn right!" Elide snickered.

Aelin shook her head, laughing, and launched both of her knives at the corkboard target, one after the other. The blades thudded into the dead center of the circle painted onto the cork, barely a hairsbreadth separating them, with their handles pointed outward at opposite angles so the tips of the blades could both hit the center.

Elide whistled. "Shit, Ae, looks like ya hardly needed my lessons!"

"More like your lessons have taught me that I can do this," Aelin replied, shrugging off Elide's praise. "I guess the self-defense lessons I used to take as a child are still lingering."

They trained for their usual hour before they had to part ways, and as Aelin tucked her knives back into their sheaths, Elide glanced up at the sky and whistled, long and low. It had been a cloudy morning, and as the day went on, the clouds had gathered ever closer, coalescing into an ominously dark mass that thickened the air with the promise of a storm.

"Might want to get below, Ae," Elide said, her brows furrowed. "Looks like we're in for a squall."

~

Down in his office, Rowan paced back and forth across the floor, a scowl etched into his face as he argued with his right-hand man.

"Dammit, Whitethorn, stop being so fucking stubborn!" Lorcan snapped. "We aren't gonna make it past this storm unless you pull your head out of your ass and get us through."

"We're still too fucking far away!" Rowan shot back, his jaw clenched. "I don't have much left, and getting through the storm is probably gonna take all of it. Where the hell will we be then? Powerless?"

Lorcan shot him a fierce glare. "Those ain't the words of the captain I signed on with."

"Well, that captain was fresh from Doranelle," Rowan retorted.

"And just what the hell difference did that make?"

"All the difference." Rowan stopped pacing and braced his hands on the wall, staring out the window across the choppy waves. "A year ago, I didn't realize I couldn't return to Doranelle without a guide."

"A year ago, you were so goddamn drunk on power that you didn't listen to the warnings." Lorcan spoke softly, but no less fiercely. "Where's that confidence led you, Whitethorn?"

"Here." Rowan's admission was hollow.

Lorcan nodded, one sharp dip of his chin. "Here. In the middle of the ocean, without a map or a guide, 'bout to hit a storm that'll take the last of that goddamned token to get through."

Rowan's expression tightened. "We do have a guide, I know it."

"The Galathynius girl?" Lorcan scoffed. "You're desperate, and I can understand why, but you're wrong about her." He paused for a moment, then continued, ruthlessly. "Pull yourself together. I'm goin' up top to get ready for this storm."

Rowan just nodded. "I'll be up."

"You know what happens if you're not." With that, Lorcan left.

~

One deck above, Aelin stood frozen with shock as the conversation she'd just eavesdropped on raced around her mind. The token. A year ago. Get us through the storm. In her mind's eye, all the pieces started to click together, threads weaving into a tight pattern that revealed why Rowan Whitethorn, pirate captain of the Queen's Cadre, was so insistent upon getting to the island Doranelle.

Power.

She shoved down the thick fear that clogged her throat at the thousand possible implications of that word, and she hurried back to her cabin as the ship's lights began to go out. Salvaterre, who was second in command, had ordered that all open flames be extinguished as they sailed into the storm---to lessen the risk of fire, for there was nothing so feared and dangerous as fire aboard a ship. Back in her cabin, she made sure the small window was securely latched, and then she changed into trousers and a blouse, stepped into the set of water-resistant oilskins that Elide had given to her, tied her hair tightly back, and went up to the deck to join the crew.

Nobody paid any special attention to her, since she was dressed like the rest of them were and the pelting rain blurred the field of vision. Her hands were sure and nimble on the lines as she helped secure the ship, and she followed a crewman towards the stern, in the direction of the captain's cabin.

The winds picked up, throwing the ship back and forth as she fought against the choppy waves, struggling to keep her balance as she sailed deeper into the maelstrom. Aelin ducked behind a bulkhead wall and peered cautiously out to the stern deck, both surprised and not surprised to see Rowan standing there, his face turned into the howling winds.

An opaque white spear of quartz dangled from a silver chain in his hand, the stone faintly flickering with light. Aelin closed her eyes, straining her hearing against the powerful shriek of the storm winds, and just barely managed to pick up a faint counterpoint melody, its notes halting and frail, coming from the stone in Rowan's hand.

A storm token.

The Queen's Cadre lurched sharply, timbers creaking as she clawed through a steep cresting wave, and a fresh wave of the downpour soaked Aelin through her clothes as a gust of wind tore her hat off her head. Grunting with effort, she grasped the lines above her head and hauled herself up, bracing her body in the net of ropes.

"Now, Captain!" Lorcan yelled over the roar of the storm.

Rowan set his jaw, a fiercely determined look settling like steel over his face, and raised the storm token above his head. His body shook with effort, but ever so slowly, a ripple shuddered out from his fists that were clenched around the flickering quartz. The ripple grew and broadened as it rose into the sky, shaking and shuddering against the force of the storm, until it exploded outward and upward with a faint, high-pitched keen that Aelin just barely heard over the wind.

And the sky went silent.

Cautiously, Aelin lifted her head, and her eyes widened. A bubble of calm surrounded the ship, keeping the storm at bay and propelling the ship through the fierceness of the maelstrom. His feet rooted to the stern deck, Rowan gripped the storm token tightly, his body quivering with the strain of keeping the ship protected as she pushed through the rough waters. Getting through the storm will take all of it. The words, a snippet of the conversation Aelin had spied on, echoed through her mind.

She'd barely thought the words before a fissure cracked through the bubble of calm protecting the ship.

"Hold on!" Lorcan roared. "Nearly there!"

But the wind shrieked louder, as if enraged that Rowan had dared to use his storm token against it, and the bubble of calm fractured, once again exposing the ship to the storm. The quartz in Rowan's hand flickered once and went dark, its opaque hue as ordinary as any other stone. A sharp gust of wind scraped across the deck, pushing the Queen's Cadre into the trough of an oncoming wave.

And Rowan, drained after the effort of using the storm token, tumbled off the side of the ship into the surging waves.

Fuck it all to hell.

Aelin leapt off the ropes, her booted feet slipping on the drenched deck, and hastily freed the stern rowboat. With a grunt and a heave, she shoved it over the side of the ship and dove after it, abandoning the pirate ship as the storm finally subsided.

She clutched the side of the rowboat and dragged herself in, spluttering and coughing. The oars practically fell into her hands, and she pushed backwards, towards where Rowan had fallen, cursing him and herself the whole way. Stupid fucking pirate!

"If you're not fucking floating, I'm leaving you to the sea goddess," Aelin seethed as she scanned the waves. There! A surprising jolt of relief shot through her, but she smothered it as she headed for Rowan's prone form. "Get...in," she grunted, hooking her arms under his armpits and practically throwing him into the rowboat.

He lay sprawled on the floor of the tiny boat, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, passed out asleep. Clearly, the storm token had protected him from inhaling any water, but he remained unconscious.

A small mercy.

"Now stay the fuck asleep," she muttered, pushing her soaking wet hair out of her face. With a deep sigh, she settled herself on the bench, hoisted up the oars, and began to row, guiding the boat through the subsiding waves. The rain had slowed from a deluge to a shower, and it eventually trickled to a full stop as the sea calmed from the storm.

Aelin closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and opened her eyes again, staring up into the stars as they appeared in the night sky, breaking through the darkness. The storm clouds had blown away, revealing the constellations etched into the skies, a map for anyone who could decipher it. She glanced down at Rowan---still asleep---and back up to the stars, scanning the shape of their paths.

The Queen's Cadre was to the southeast of them, and by now, she would probably have recovered enough from the storm to discover that her captain was missing. A brief twinge passed through Aelin's heart, for despite her pretenses, she had come to find friendship among the crew of the pirate ship.

But Doranelle came first.

The island lay to the west, so it was westward that she turned, nudging the little rowboat onto a new course. As she rowed, Aelin sent up a quick prayer to the gods. Please, let Rowan stay asleep. It would go better for him if he didn't wake up before they'd reached their destination, both because he had no idea what the island actually protected and because her fear lingered. What Doranelle protected was power, and men were known to do terrible, terrible things for power. Even if Rowan had changed from the "power-drunk idiot" Lorcan had called him, she still couldn't trust that he would leave Doranelle in peace.

The sun rose and fell in cyclic rhythm as Aelin steered the little boat, switching from oars to the boat's single sail after she'd established her course because constant rowing would drain her entirely. Almost miraculously, Rowan remained in his stupor for the five days it took to reach the mists encircling Doranelle, and Aelin breathed just a bit easier knowing that he was unaware of their new path.

When the rowboat reached the mists, Aelin struck the sail and took up the oars again, and she rowed through the thick films of mist that veiled the island. The mists served as both a protective barrier and a misdirection tactic, since the ancient spell woven into the mists kept away anyone who approached with ill intent. As the rowboat broke through the mists, Aelin tilted her head back and inhaled deeply, basking in the achingly familiar richness of Doranelle's air and its faint trace of rain and embers. The island sprang up ahead, and she steered the rowboat into the docks at the land's edge.

Rowan stirred, his eyes cracking open. He blinked several times, clearing the bleariness from his face, and slowly raised his arms, as if testing his range of motion. "Where am I?" he croaked, not yet having recognized that he was alone with Aelin.

"Awake, apparently," she said.

He bolted upright into a seated position, wincing at the ache of the rapid movement. "What? How long...?"

"Five days, give or take, ever since your stupid ass fell off the ship during the storm." She stepped out of the rowboat, keeping a cautious eye on him, and slowly walked backwards up the dock's weathered wooden planks.

"My ship," he breathed, fear flickering across his features. "Where are we, Aelin?"

Her booted feet hit the soft, grassy ground, and she nearly wept with joy at the feeling of standing on her beloved island's turf once again. "A place that does not exist."

Pure shock slackened Rowan's jaw. "Doranelle," he whispered, his voice echoing with awe. He pushed himself up onto the bench, only wincing a bit at the tingling in his legs after five days asleep, and began to stand, clearly intending to get out of the boat and walk into the island.

Aelin's hand flew to her knives, and a blade was clenched in her raised fist almost before she could blink. Her other hand curled behind her hips, her stance defensive. "Stay in the boat, Rowan." The voice that came out of her rang with a note of command that he'd never heard before.

"Aelin, I---"

"Stay. In the. Boat." Her shoulders tensed, and she rooted her feet to the ground as a familiar tingling rose from the ground up to her raised hands.

Confusion crossed Rowan's face. "I mean no harm, Aelin, truly." He swallowed thickly. "But this place...it is a miracle."

"A miracle that is unforgiving to strangers." Her fingers curled.

Brows furrowed together, Rowan abruptly stood up and stepped out of the rowboat. He reached for the pistol that he habitually kept on his hip before remembering that he'd lost it in the storm, but he walked forward, his gaze trained on Aelin. She pressed her lips together, the knife quivering slightly in her raised fist. He reached out towards her. "I won't harm anything, I swear."

She shook her head. "I can't trust a pirate's promise." Deep in her soul, Doranelle called, sending a warm wash of sparks through her blood.

And finally, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius burst into fire.

~~~

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[djuvlipen]

There's something I've been meaning to talk about for a while now.

It's the impact of the trans rights movement on the Romani feminist and gay rights movements.

Now, most Romani rights organizations are very disconnected from the Romani masses. They really don't speak for us at all. Most of them get private fundings from the EU and billionaires like Soros (x). That's what leads a lot of Romani feminist groups to supporting the sex trade (x), despite Romani women being among the first victims of sex trafficking in Europe (x).

With the trans rights movement, we've got Romani feminist groups praising Romani men for taking the place of Romani women. Antonella Lerca Duda, a Romanian Romani transwoman, is featured on many Romani feminist posts whose aim is to present empowering Romani women (x) (x). Antonella Lerca Duda is "the first transexual Romani woman to run for mayor in Romania".

German Romani feminist organization RomaniPhen even chose to include his portrait in their post about powerful Romani women - instead of chosing to picture an actual Romani woman (x). Duda also created a "sex work" organization that fights for the decriminalization of prostitution. He's not our sister and he doesn't fight for Romani women. Yet he was even invited to co-write and star in a play from the only female-only Romani theater troup in the world, Giuvlipen, once again taking the job that could have gone to an actual Romani female playwright and to an actual Romani female actress (x).

In Spain, the trans movement is piggybacking on the back of the Romani rights movement. "Trans women" and "Gitanas" are associated in a manner much similar to what the TRA movement is doing in the US by associating "Trans people" and "Black women". Thus Spanish Senator Teresa Ruiz-Sillero recently said that ""Personas LGTBI (en particular trans), inmigrantes, personas gitanas" se considerarán "colectivos vulnerables de atención prioritaria"." ("LGBTI people (trans in particular), immigrants, romani people" will be considered "vulnerable groups to give a priority attention to") (x)

Many tweets from popular TRA Spanish accounts associate Romani women and trans women (I'm only gonna add three examples because this post is already long; you can look up "gitanas + trans" on twitter to judge by yourself):

And many Spanish Romani activists and organizations are denouncing TERFs as fascist and fighting for self-ID laws

Nevermind the fact that Romani women desperately need sex-segregated spaces considering that Romani women are particularly vulnerable to domestic violence and sexual assaults (x). Nevermind the fact that saying Romani women are not female because we're Romani is inherently racist.

But it's even worse when we think about the Romani gay rights movement. As opposed to many other gay rights movements, the Romani one is very recent. Which means we never got to build up a proper LGB Romani movement detached from "queer theory". We never got a movement only dedicated to SSA Roma, because trans and queer activists are behind all our LGBT groups. Gender rhetoric is deeply embedded in the Romani gay rights movement.

Here's a clip from the ERRC, the largest Romani rights organization in Europe, organizing a workshop on LGBTIQ Roma in the Balkan and in Spain. No lesbian or bi woman is present in this video. There's only one (straight) woman. The person with the longest speaking time is a TIM. This is particularly bad considering Romani orgs have a tendency to ignore Romani women's voices (x).

Ara Art is one of the largest Romani LGBT organization in Europe. On their website, they have interviews with trans Roma. These interviews are deeply sexist and homophobic: here's one in which a gay boy raised in a homophobic family comes out as a trans woman. This story is framed in a positive light.

Romani organizations are repeating the lie that Stonewall was started by "trans women" and are further erasing gay men and lesbians from their own history (x). They publish articles framing LGB Roma's sexuality as "sexual dissidence" (x). By supporting the trans rights movement, orgs like Ververipen, Ara Art and ERRC are supporting the sterilization of LGB Roma. All over Europe, Romani organizations hold conferences to discuss "LGBTIQ rights" (x) and are interviewing Romani TRAs (x), all in order to fight for trans rights (that last link even includes an interview with a biromantic asexual transman lmao). There's no LGB rights movement that exists outside of the gender realm for Roma.

source: Asociacion Gitanas Feministas por la Diversidad (x) and E-Romnja, one of the largest Romani feminist org in Romania (x)

Gadje newspapers are writing articles about "Queer Roma" (x). Gadje academics are writing gender theory thesis about "Queer Roma" (x).

This doesn't help LGB Roma. In my so-called progressive, Western European country, my Romani relatives used to tell me that LGBs were deviant perverts while I was growing up. My local Romani community openly calls for the lynching of LGB Roma. Most European Roma are deeply religious (muslim or christian), sometimes to the point of being fundamentalists. The vast majority of European Roma are working class and don't care about "queer theory".

Yet the associations that are supposed to be fighting for us are reinforcing the idea that LGBs are perverts and that not supporting the homophobic trans ideology makes you a fascist. Since Romani rights groups are all very recent, we never even got the chance to make our own movements before we got swipped into the gender trend.

The trans rights movement is actively harming Romani women, LGB Roma, Romani feminist and Romani gay rights movements.

[evaskjew]

I'm trying something for fandom artists/writers

Well, as I don't have anyone to tag (I'm really the least sociable person in the world and I'm too scared to talk to people in the fandom 😂), it's up to those who see this post to participate or not (if it turns out that it's not going to take at all, but never mind!)

Well, as my thing is drawing, I'll go with that (but you can adapt it to writing for those who write, or anything else for that matter!)

Last drawing:

Favourite drawing:

Well, I'm cheating, I'm putting two in because I can't choose 😖 On the one hand it's my best pastel drawing (to say it's also my second realistic portrait in colour) and on the other the painting I did with my grandmother and it's also the first time I've done anything other than a portrait in realistic drawing with a background and so on.

Hated drawing:

Right, then. Here again it's hard to put just one. I'm VERY hard on myself and I hate almost all my drawings 🥲 But really, if I have to choose, there are three that I really can't see any more because I find them so horrible.

Future project(s):

Following the poll, I'm going to start working on a new portrait of Garreth.

Next up, why not draw Ominis again (I've taken several in-game screenshots of him that I'd like to do to work on the backgrounds) and I'd also like to draw characters I haven't drawn yet, like Natsai or Amit.

And maybe one day, when I'm bored because I can't find any more images to use as models, I might draw some MCs from in-game screenshots.

And apart from drawing, I'd like to finish writing my OS by the end of the year 😂

Favourite artist:

There are far too many talented people in fandom ❤️

But without hesitation I'd say @tamayula-hl! Long before I dared to post my drawings online, I admired her work so much and even today I jump on every notification as soon as she posts! I know I'll never reach her level but her work is a source of inspiration and motivation (even more so now that I've switched to watercolour and I'm still trying to figure out how to work with colours, the way she works with colour is so incredible 🥰)

And I can't thank her enough for her post showing all the possible angles for Ominis' and Sebastian's hairs, it was so helpful 🙏🏻

And I admire @choccy-milky too! These are the two fandom artists I've been following since I started on Tumblr a little over a year ago 😄

One or few points on which I would like to improve:

First of all, I've managed to stop transferring the outlines of my drawings. Yes, it's a bit cheating to transfer, I know. But if I don't do it, the proportions are going to be catastrophic and that's going to piss me off (long live my perfectionism) and I'm going to stop and stubborn as I am coupled with my lack of self-confidence, I'm never going to want to draw again. So for the time being, we're going to keep tracing 😅 We'll see what happens in time.

But most of all, I'd like to stop depending on images I find on Pinterest or Tumblr and just reproduce them as drawings. I'm incapable of doing anything other than faithfully reproducing an image 😢 It annoys me, because I'd also like to post lots of drawings of my MC Evangeline interacting with other characters 😞 And the worst thing is the difference in my drawing level when I do something that doesn't depend on a reference image! (the proof: my drawings of Evangeline and this drawing of Ominis)

I took it upon myself while writing this post and forced myself to do a drawing of Evangeline in 20 minutes without a model (I just traced a neutral pose from a drawing dummy to have my base and improvised from my watercolour of Evangeline for her outfit).

You be the judge:

The end of her leg and her shoe is a disaster 😭

Well, that's that. I don't know how it's going to turn out and whether any artists/writers are going to take part, but it was a fun post to make!

[machlover54666]

@callmeend ive checked every room as best i could (even the other two maps, forgot the lobby, only found notes in the toon rooms anyway) so heres best i could do djshsjsj

ill add in the alts of what they say + where i found them

again im not matpat sooo 😭 yapfesttt

It's a letter from Razzle and Dazzle to Vee asking to be a part of the next gameshow she hosts

I'm not sure if it's only Razzle who wants to and Dazzle just goes along because they're literally one being or if its just the tradegy/comedy mask thing :P

Maybe some sort of journal entry or something? From Boxten and it's not really assigned to be to anyone.

Astro has control over dreams (thanks, wiki!), so that probably means nightmares as well. At first I thought "oh if Astro causes dreams maybe twisted Astro causes nightmares" but then the twisted astro description didn't mention anything about that, neither did trivia - plus why would Boxten want to see Astro if he became a twisted,,

okay next note i give up

Shrimpo literally hates everything

its his entire character, he's a bully as his character sheet thingy states

whats there to say about this note?

Just a drawing of Scraps

Both siblings state its hard to do something with claws, but is found on Scraps side of the room (judging by the yarn balls on the bed)

rather its a self portrait or a drawing by goob that scraps keeps

Glisten wooooo

Ok so obviously he might be pressured to be perfect ("I am perfect, I have to be")

I'm guessing it's rather just him being himself or maybe the episodes he's featured in has him as this perfect model or something

im saying episodes bc there is a 'Dandy's world' show, and frames shown in maps - I'm not sure if it's animation or more like the toons are acting though

This 'somebody' could be anyone, but I'm guessing it's rather Boxten, since Boxten's note mentioned Glisten, or Rodger since he's mentioned later

I'm guessing his ability is the reflection trick, guessing by he says he's dizzy when he does it, and that when you activate Glisten's ability, he gets the confused debuff.

"I should spend time with him more" oh of course you do if you're crying to Rodger (from Toodle's dialouge)

Again, probably just a journal entry

i dont know what else to make of this, but i do wanna know what the crossed out bit actually is. I can make out the first two words, the last word is 'that' and zero clue on the rest.

Glisten's POV on Boxten's note, since it mentions beauty sleep.

Maybe we're only getting these toons' rooms because the rest are on Different floors? It might've been up to the shows creators or Toon Handlers since it mentions "they"

Glisten isn't a fan of neither Finn or Shrimpo

The last note I could find, from Brightney - it mentions books and is a to-do list (Brightney's dialouge includes a 'to-do list' and she's president of a book club)

Not sure what to make of this either.

end of yapfest woooo

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

I see your tags on the Wocky and Alita art, I would love to hear your thoughts on Alita actually!

I only need one person to show interest in what I have to say for me to talk forever and ever, thank you. HAHA Okay, in seriousness, this won't be as thorough/long as the Klavier post because... there really isn't much to her, but I find it extremely interesting how Alita falls into the same category of witnesses as April May and Dahlia without being — and I mean no offence to her when I say this — stunning? Like, with April and Dahlia, there's a very clear mass appeal to them which most people point out. Contrariwise, Alita's appearance is really only commented on by Trucy, and just glancing at her portrait, you can see that, without her slightly outlandish fashion, she's frankly nothing to write home about.

So why am I discussing this? Surely it's a little reductive to analyse female characters beginning with their appearances? Usually, yes, but that's the thing about this category of witnesses: their pretty faces aren't just pretty faces.

For April and Dahlia, their beauty is part of their arsenal. It functions as both their defence and their weapon of choice; they know how to wield it to bring people under their heel. Alita being ordinarily pretty instead of drop-dead gorgeous deprives her of that weapon and leads you to wonder how she became a mafia heiress to begin with. It also parallels her to Mimi Miney in a way that goes beyond the 'murderous nurse who worked for and killed her awful boss' comparison you get on the surface. Presumably, Alita, like Mimi, only got to where she was because she managed to fool the people around her into believing she was less dangerous than she actually is. Mimi did this by feigning stupidity and inviting people to underestimate her. Alita seems to do this by showing them what they want to see.

When she first meets Apollo and Trucy, Alita stays quiet and spends more time listening to them than she does talking. Once she has a hold on who they are, then she slips into her persona, and I find it interesting how she doesn't even attempt to come across as particularly delicate or lovelorn? Instead she goes for the relatively typical role of a distressed, indulgent loved one earnestly entreating Apollo for help. I'm inclined to say she does this because her read on Apollo makes her realise that he'd likely be exasperated or annoyed by such a person; but it's also almost as if she knows she doesn't have the disposition to pull off that frail, damsel-in-distress archetype and has resigned herself to being ordinary. Like how she looks. The next time she has to reapply her persona, Alita's appearing in court, and again she makes subtle adjustments that best suit her situation. The judge is old, so she takes a chance on expressing her dedication as a wife while balancing her dedication as a righteous citizen, which works. But oddly enough, despite her successes, I don't think Alita is actually good? At donning disguises? Everyone I've seen discuss this case has been able to guess almost immediately that she's the culprit, and maybe we're just prepped by past characters like her that have appeared, but I don't think she's even that convincing in the game.

Both the identities she assumes are risky manoeuvres that happen to fall in her favour, and she's not particularly dedicated to maintaining the front. When she asks Apollo to be Wocky's defence, she admits that marrying him is largely a chance at a more exciting life than some great love story; Plum Kitaki straight up says that there's a darkness in Alita she doesn't like, despite how docile Alita behaves in front of her; and Wocky has moments where he slips up and calls her things like, "imposter" and "fallen angel", implying that at least subconsciously, he knows she's not what she makes herself out to be. Even her general mannerisms don't greatly differ between her actual self and the mask who's blunt her claws — nothing is ever overtly coy or cutesy — and when Apollo brings up the fact she was Wocky's nurse, she drops the facade almost immediately. There's no waffling, no, "Whatever do you mean?"s or, "You're scaring me"s, just the statement, "I don't know what you mean by 'meaning', Mr. Justice!" delivered in a sudden cool, frosted steeliness.

And I think that steel is what really makes her different.

See, the other women are all driven to crime by some defining trait in themselves caused by their circumstances. For Dahlia, it's her desperate need to be free of the Fey clan; for Mimi, it's grief over her sister's unjust death; and for April, it's her fear of Redd White. You don't really get that with Alita. Instead of there being something dark in her life that leads her down this path, she just seems... tired. Tired of being "pretty enough" but not "gorgeous", tired of being the obedient nurse to the corrupt doctor, tired of being ordinary. There's no predatory external force pushing her into a corner, there's no abusive family beliefs pinning her down. There's just an ordinary life, lived dull and ordinarily, and she had had enough. So what does this girl, who's tired and ordinary in every way except the steel that lines her spine, do to get out of this?

She gambles.

Marrying into the mafia was a gamble, seeking Apollo as council was a gamble, shooting Dr. Meraktis was a gamble. Every decision she's made since she met Wocky has been a series of high-stakes gambles that leave her life on the line all so she won't be second-best anymore. This time, she was going to be the one on top. No matter what.

... And I'm sorry for loving evil women, but girlboss?? Girlboss???

I've heard people say they're disappointed that her "breakdown" is just an extension of her usual damage sprite, but it's honestly one of my favourite "breakdowns" in the series ever? Just because it isn't really one? Everything Alita has done up till now has been reckless, calculated risk, of course being convicted for murder is no different than losing in any other aspect of her life. Of course you're not going to get more than her damaged sprite, because this doesn't warrant a more dramatic reaction. She's lived this whole time knowing it could all come crashing down around her, and it finally did.

She made a bad bet. You caught her. Oh well.

The frosted girl of steel, standing tall to the very end. It's kind of sad that, even after all that, she's still seen as only second-best, incomparable to mimi, dahlia or any of the other women who've stood in her place.

[howlingday]

turns out every member of team rwby had a massive crush on the rusted knight and wanted to date/ be railed by him and even had self insert fanfics about it. now that they know it's jaune how do they try to make their fanfics real?

"What are you drawing, Ruby?"

"A picture of me an the Rusty Knight!" Showing off her crayon portrait of the Rusted Knight, his mount, and herself standing together in a flower field, Ruby's mother cooed at the drawing.

"My, my, what a wonderful drawing!" Summer smiled. "And what are you three doing together?"

"We're on an adventure!"

"Hmhmhm!" Summer chuckled. "You must have really loved that story last night, didn't you?"

"I'mma marry him, and then we'll adventure forever!"

Summer chuckled at her daughter's daydreaming of the fictional hero. Not even six and already dreaming of marriage. She was still so innocent, and Summer hoped that would never change.

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

"Would you like a kiss for your wounds, my lady?"

"No! Because I'm a big girl! Kisses are for babies!"

"Could you kiss me then? After all, only the coolest girls can kiss the coolest dudes."

"Yang, lunch is read-"

Yang slammed her notebook shut, twirling in her seat with a red face and a squeaky voice. "DAAAAAAAAAAD! KNOCK ON MY DOOR!"

"I did knock, sweetie~!"

"NO, YOU DIDN'T!" Yang stamped her feet.

"Sorry, sorry!" Taiyang stepped away. "Lunch is downstairs when you're done doing, er, whatever."

Yang huffed as she jumped off her seat, carefully hiding her notebook under a bunch of arts and crafts material in a drawer. She stamped to the door, looking back at the drawer to make sure it was safe. Nobody could ever know her dark secret.

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

"The Rusted Knight?" Nicholas looked down at his granddaughter. "Of course I've heard of him! In fact, it was his armor that inspired my set!"

Weiss rubbed a tiny hand against the white shirt her grandfather was wearing. It was soft, and underneath was soft, too. He wasn't wearing his armor. He hardly did in his own house.

"Lügner." Weiss softly said, pressing further into his belly.

"Ach!" Nicholas shouted, placing a free hand to his abdomen. " Mein bauch!"

Nicholas fell over to the floor, holding Weiss in the air. She giggled as she stared at his bearded face. Looking at him, he reminded her of the Rusted Knight, and his statements on his modeling after the fairy tale hero would only become more and more true.

"Say, would you like me to read you that story for you?"

Weiss' eyes lit up and she nodded fervously. He chuckled as he swung himself to his feet. Walking to the library, he pulled out the book and was about to read it when a pair of eyes stared at him.

"Come on, Winter. There's enough room for all of us." The older girl hurried over, taking her seat on the other side of their opa. To this day, it remains Weiss and Winter's most cherished of their shared memories.

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

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mister and Misses Belladonna."

Blake sat between her parents, red in the face. To think it would actually come to this. Her parents were going to kill her. Or worse, take away her books.

"Is everything alright?" Mom asked with worry in her voice.

"It is, but... In a recent assignment, Blake was tasked with writing a short story about herself and a fictional character in an interview." The teacher slid the assignment forward. "If you'd like, I can tell you without your reading."

Dad took the paper and gave it a quick read. And by quick read, he shoved it into Mom's hands after reading half a paragraph. Half of him was red with embarrassment and the other green with disgust.

She took the paper and almost immediately responded with, "Oh my!"

"As I'm sure you are both aware, we always encourage creativity in our students, but this..."

"No, no, we understand." Dad said with a burp. "We'll be sure this won't happen again."

The teacher and Dad spoke furthervon the subject, moreso than Blake EVER cared for. There was a hiss at her side, and she looked to Mom. She was pointing at a word. A very bad, bad, naughty word.

"This is spelled with an i, not an e."

[litnerdwrites]

Time for day two! Today, we're going to be visiting House Pride, with a piece that's pretty near and dear to my heart. So please, be nice, and enjoy. Let me know if you have requests for any character from this series. I think I'll try posting fics even after this week. I have a whole list of head cannons for Emilia x Wrath child too, if y'll want to read it. Let me know! @princeofsinweek

Day 2: Pride/Reflection and Ego

Shattered Reflection - Pride X Wife!Reader

WC:2,059

TW: Body dysmorphia, mention of self harm, blood, accidental cuts on shattered glass, anxiety, insecurity, mention of sex but no smut.

Index: 'Bella' means 'Beautiful' in Latin, Spanish and Italian. Used as nickname, and term of endearment.

The hurried clicking of heels echoed in the empty hallways, accompanied by the swathes of navy fabric Isabella wasn’t able to gather into her arms before she’d hurried back the way she came. With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder, threatening to drown out the murmurs of courtiers and well practiced symphonies.

Too thick thighs. 

Too big tummy. 

Too big breasts. 

The words ring in her head, resounding throughout her body. Each syllable is an ache in her heart, and a throb in her temples. 

Isabella clutches at her chest, over the shimmering fabric of her bodice, and forces one foot in front of the other. She stumbles as the hallway leading to her room seems to rock with each step, and the sound of drums carrying from the ballroom, and echoing in her ear certainly don't help. Did the musicians playing tonight have drums? Or perhaps it’s her heart? She didn’t know, nor did she care at this moment. 

She hacks out a cough, reaching out to grab something for support with her free hand as the floor seems to drift closer and closer. Isa vaguely registers the sound of something shattering, and a sticky residue on her hands.

She chokes on a sob, trying to stand, only to stumble again.

This time, when she collapses to the ground, pain shoots through her knees, as well as the uncomfortable sensation of something stuck in her skin. Pieces of a frame? A mirror? Perhaps a vase? She couldn't tell. 

Her throat constricts, a shriek building, demanding to be set free. However, not wanting to draw attention, she forces herself to her feet, ignoring her pain, and begins moving back through the halls until she reaches a familiar hall. Changing her course last minute, Isabella turns from her room, entering one across the hall instead. 

The voices continued ringing in her mind, chastising her.

The whole court can probably hear you stomping around up here. Have you considered dropping a few pounds? 

Shut up.

If you did hit the training yard though, I bet you’d look so pathetic next to everyone else! 

Shut up. 

Are you sure you want to subject them to the sight of you? I mean, look at you.

Her eyes snap to the mirror beside her. In its reflection, she can see a portrait of her Prince, hanging just behind her. It didn’t do his angelic looks justice, nor did it quite convey that sinful smile he used to entice just about anyone to his bed.

Shut up.

She stepped closer to the mirror, glancing between the reflection of herself and the portrait. The ringing started getting louder, as her surroundings vanished and all that was left was the mirror.  

See? Can you really stand beside him like this?

“But… He loves me,” she rasps, though it felt more like trying to herself than refute the thought.

It would be better for his standing as a Prince of Hell if you weren’t around to humiliate him. You should leave. Then you also won’t prevent him from finding Lucia. I bet she didn’t look like this. I’m sure she was slimmer with soft curves. Nothing like you. Too big in all the wrong places. You should disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear- 

“SHUT-”

“Count,” 

Her fist stops mere inches away from the mirror. 

“Count,” it commanded again. 

Everything was loud. The squeak of floorboards. The thoughts in her head. The swishing of her dress. All of it. All too loud, and all happening at once. How could she-

“Count,” 

“P-Pride said m-my hair is always done up b-beauti-beautiful,” she stutters, voice choked and raspy from crying. 

Had she been crying? 

“P-Pride said my smile is con-contagious, and my lips are plu-ump, like strawberries,” she add, slowly falling to her knees before the mirror. 

Her heart rate slowly eased, while her vision began clearing at the edges. 

“Pride said h-he loves to- to grab my breasts when he’s stressed, lay his head on them when he’s tired, and kiss them when we have sex,” her voice became steadier with each word she spoke. 

Still, she took deep breaths as more of the room came into focus, and she was able to recognise the navy walls, accented with silver, and ornate furniture that complimented the marble flooring. 

“Pride said he likes my stomach because it’s cute, fun to kneed, a comfy pillow and he enjoys tickling it, even if it annoys me,” This time, Isa’s voice was completely even as she spoke.

“Can you really blame me for wanting to see that blinding smile whenever I please?” 

She whips her head around, noticing the Prince in question leaning against the door frame. Isa can only watch him with wide eyes. 

Pride’s eyes narrow on her, as he takes in her appearance. Shards of a mirror are stuck in her palms, both of which are still bleeding. There’s also blood seeping from a gash he can see on her on her knee, from where it peeks out from under her dress. Although, her face is probably the most heartbreaking sight that Pride’s ever seen. Bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks stare back at him, along with a runny nose and lips that are raw and red from where she bit and pulled at them. 

It was a bad day for her. Pride could tell that much from the moment she wasn’t at the ballroom in time, but while being even the slightest bit late was odd for her, Pride didn’t begin to truly worry until he saw drops of blood and a shattered mirror in the hallway leading to their suite when he went to go find her.

He barely registered using transversa magic to get to his room before he found her crumpled in front of the mirror, a bloody hand pressed against it. He felt his namesake’s sin swelling in his chest as he heard her using the method he taught her to calm down. He’d remembered how bewildered she was the first time he’d told her to order her least favorite features from one to five, one being the least favorite. Confused, she had done as he asked. After that, Pride made her name one compliment, or thing he liked about the fifth feature on that list, two to the fourth, three to the third, and so on, so forth.

“You still need to do the last one, by the way,” he reminds, snapping her out of her daze. 

“Oh, Pride loves squeezing my thighs, spreading my thighs, burying his face in my thighs, thinks my thighs are strong strong, and that there’s a perfect amount of them to bite,” Isa finishes. 

“There’s a good girl,” Pride grins, walking over to pick her up from in front of the mirror. Caring little for the blood dripping everywhere, he deposited her right onto a comfy couch, knowing she’d lose it if he dumped her on the bed and she got blood on it, “Now stay put,” 

Isa only nodded, letting Pride poke his head out of the room for a few minutes. He didn’t go far, and didn’t shut the door. Instead, he stood in the doorway, blocking anyone from seeing in, as he spoke to someone. Moments later, he took something from them, and came back in, shutting the door behind them. When he came back, there were bandages and ointments in his hands, all of which were ceremoniously dumped onto the floor when Pride dropped to his knee. 

Gasping, Isabella tried to stand, only for a stern look to force her back down. Pride never kneeled. For anyone. The only time he’d ever knelt before her was less kneeling and more lying down, and it was just so he could feast on Isa. Now, however, his touches remained reverent as he pulled out the glass, before cleaning and bandaging each wound. 

“Pride-” 

“We’ll talk later, just- Just let me do this first,”    

Isa could only nod. 

When he was done, he carried her to the bed, before leaving and coming back with a simple, blue tunic. Pride had no intention of letting her do anything tonight, it seemed, as he pulled the gown from her body, not caring as the thin ties snapped at the back. After that, he pulled the tunic over her, and gently pushed her to lay on the bed. Moments later, he was climbing in with her, having taken off his formalwear, and coming back in loose trousers. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, once they were both tucked into bed. 

“It got bad,” she whispered, “Worse than before. I took one look at that ballroom, and suddenly, the thought of food made me want to hurl, and having to spend an evening with others looking at me all night, made me want to tear at my skin,” 

“Has it ever gotten this bad before?” Pride asks. 

“Once, but it was a while before I came here,” she assured him. 

Pride rubs a thumb over her cheek, gentle and soothing. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Bella,” he whispers.

Isa’s heart picks up its pace in her chest. Pride never apologizes either. Well, not to anyone but her anyway. It appears she’s been the exception to many rules, when it comes to Pride. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she responds, “I’m sorry I made you miss your party. I know how much you love them,” 

“Don’t be. I love you more,” he soothes, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.  

“I have one more thing I need to ask, Bella,” he tells her, suddenly serious.

“Yes?” 

“The glass shards. Did you do that on purpose?” 

“No! No, of course not. I- On my way back up here, everything had overwhelmed me and I was so dizzy, I was reaching for anything to grab onto and I- I ended up grabbing the mirror, and…dropped it…” Isabella trails off sheepishly.

Pride examines her for a moment, his icy eyes carving deep into her flesh, before he finally relents. 

“Alright, good. Please remember, that I don’t know what I’d do without you, my Bella,” he whispers, “So don’t you ever, ever, even consider it.” 

“I’ll try not to,” she whispers, “But sometimes those voices just make too much sense to ignore,” 

“Tell me what it will take to help you, my love. Do you want me to take you on my throne before our whole court, to let them, and you, know who holds whatever’s left of my heart? Is there a person in particular bothering you, that I need to feed to some foul beast somewhere? Do I need to kiss every inch of your flesh until your mind accepts my words as fact? Would you like me to shatter every mirror in my circle, so you can never rely on them to show you yourself again?” he asks desperately. 

“I don’t know,” she whispers honestly. 

“Then try to remember this; You are my wife. You are the first face I see in the morning, the last face I see every night, and the one face I could never be tired of. I love your belly, even if it’s bigger than others’. I love your thick thighs, and plump lips. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you find something you’re interested in. I love the way you squeal when you see something cute. I love the way your smile instantly improves my mood. I love everything about you, my sweet, beautiful Bella,” Pride whispers to each one with conviction, “Whatever you see in your reflection, pay it no heed. Only my view of you matters. Mine, and nobody elses,” 

“Pride-” 

His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his chest. 

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if it means I won’t lose you!” 

Isabella relaxes in his hold, though her mind is still racing. 

“Just- Just hold me. And help me remember why you love me. Why I love me,” 

“Of course, my beautiful love,” Pride whispers, before he begins listing everything he’s ever loved about you off, one by one. From appearance to personality to memories. Pride leaves nothing out. By the time he’s done, you can barely keep your eyes open. Noticing this, Pride chuckles. “Sleep Bella,” 

“Goodnight, Pride,” 

“Goodnight, my love,”