#yeah i drew all this A While ago and just now remembered to post. with yk. current events

[personishfive]

in which goro demonstrates the influence of capitalism in a cognitive world

unused panel

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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The rest of lunch was filled with more casual chatter, and after somewhat helping Alfred clean up the dishes the group headed for the Batcave. Bruce was quick to wordlessly lift Danny onto his arm again once they got close to the stairs, setting him down carefully close to the main computer as Damian fetched a rolling stool and Tim started to set up the computer for what they needed.

“Don’t feel like you need to rush. If you need a break we can come back to this later,” Bruce assured quietly as Danny gratefully took a seat on the stool.

“Here’s the pen,” Tim was quick to come over as well, holding out what looked like a tablet stylus with a few buttons for Danny to take. “Hold the front button to free draw. And if you want to do straight lines between points just tap the button higher up to switch modes, tap the front button for each point of the lines, and double tap to end the connection on the current line,” he explained, manipulating Danny’s hand to follow the instructions as well as demonstrate the functions.

Danny was surprised to see faintly glowing hologram lines appear wherever the pen tip was when the buttons were pushed, huffing a small giggle in pleasant surprise. “Woah…. So cool,” he commented, impressed by the advanced technology. “Uhm…. So, I guess… the entrance was like this…,” he rambled brokenly, figuring he should just get going and get up to start drawing what he could remember in the open space.

It took him a second to get the hang of the device, and with Tim following him around to be able to make any adjustments Danny requested he ended up getting caught up in the explanations and feeling less scrutinized. His movements were a bit slow as he tried to conserve his energy, and sometimes he had to float to reach where he needed to, but it was a lot more effective than trying to describe what no one else could see.

“The frame is mounted on the wall, and there’s two metal doors embedded in the wall that we can use to somewhat close the portal. It doesn’t block anything that can go intangible, but it keeps humans out and masks the gateway from being easy to find while in the Infinite Realms. There’s a simple alarm light on top that alerts us of any anomalies. And a filtration system on the right side. Which is actually one of the more important parts. Like I said earlier, the portal extends into the wall about… this far. It’s masked by the ectoplasmic energy now that the portal is on, but I looked into it more closely a few months ago. There’s some sort of structure within the tunnel walls that directs the flow of ectoplasm once it’s pulled from the Infinite Realm. It loops on itself, in a spiral, passing through the ecto filter first. The raw ectoplasm from the realm is corrupted, and we use the filter to strip out the impurities. Kind of like separating the different elements of human blood. Then it gets bounced around within the tunnel, hitting eight hot spots here, here, hm,” he hummed for the rest of the points, as he drew circles to mark them, “all before getting pulled back to the middle again, which creates the visual spiral we can see in the portal from the outside. There’s a minor amount of electricity maintaining certain functions, but for the most part it’s self sustained by the ectoplasm.”

At that point Danny had moved around enough his legs were starting to hurt and feel weak, so he plopped back on the stool from before. It seemed to be a good time to take a break anyway, for Wally and Raven were starting to walk around the crude designs.

“...This is a fibonacci spiral…Or at least it’s extremely close,” Wally spoke up first after coming to a stop in front of the diagram again, gesturing to the energy current lines. “And you said the measurements weren’t exact?”

“Yeah. I measured the opening once, and it was very slightly over two meters in diameter. With the tunnel going back about three meters, but also slightly more. I just thought it was because my parents weren’t being careful with the measurements,” Danny confirmed with a tired nod, absently rubbing his leg.

“Or it needed a different measurement system…,” Wally mused, a few thoughts starting to click in his head. “Tim, make the diameter 2.094 meters, and the depth 3.141 meters. Then space out the concentration points to match a fibonacci spiral.”

As Tim tapped on a wireless keyboard to adjust the diagram according to Wally’s direction he squinted slightly. “Two point… Wait, that’s the conversion for four and six Egyptian Cubits respectively. That’s one of the oldest measurement systems.”

“From one of the oldest civilizations known for being rather involved when it came to matters of the dead,” Wally added as a way to confirm Tim had come to the same realization as him.

“Egyptian cubits?” Danielle repeated, scrunching her nose in confusion. “What would that have to do with anything? And why four and six?”

“They’re numbers that different cultures associate with the dead. Four, six, and also eight like the concentration points,” Wally explained, pointing to the different aspects. “Combined with the fibonacci spiral, one of the most common shapes that has often been associated with representing life, and it’s starting to look like this portal is a ritual for life and death.”

“It does,” Raven confirmed with a nod, stepping forward. “The method is old, it’s not really used anymore in modern techniques because of how simplistic it is. It leaves too much up to the one performing the ritual, which means there’s a much larger chance for error. Was this all they had? This was enough for them to get it to work?”

It was a little alarming to hear Raven and Wally imply that the Fenton couple had most likely unintentionally performed a rather old and risky mystic ritual or something instead of just messing with science. But what caused Danny to pause the most was Raven’s question if it had worked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that. He knew he should probably tell them the truth, but he didn’t exactly like talking about that event.

Unfortunately Sam didn’t seem to share his reluctance. “It didn’t work,” she admitted a little too bluntly, causing Danny to flinch. “From what I heard nothing at all happened when they turned it on. It wasn’t until Danny was looking around inside it that it actually activated.”

That revelation caused a few reactions of surprise from the others who didn’t already know, and Danny couldn’t help squeezing his left hand as a faint memory caused it to burn with phantom pain, crawling up his arm.

“Wait- You were inside the portal when it activated?!” Wally burst, gaping at Danny in extreme concern.

It was hard to figure out how to answer without having to fall too far back into the memory of that event, which caused Danny to remain quiet for a stretch of time, pressing his thumb into his palm tightly as his gaze couldn’t focus on anything for the moment. Eventually he forced himself to meet Wally’s gaze, drawing a slightly shuddering breath before answering. “...What?... Did you think I got this way by drinking ectoplasm or something?” he tried to joke, but the tremor in his voice made it fail.

No one seemed to know how to respond to that, realizing that Danny had ended up half dead because of an accident with an unstable lab experiment. Something that Wally was no stranger to himself, but it still something he wasn’t pleased to hear.

With the awkward silence, Jason gave a small huff and strode forward to semi roughly cup his hand on the back of Danny’s head and ruffle his hair a little. “Guess that’s one way to do it,” he muttered, just to break the silence and try to provide some sort of comfort.

With his comment, Raven took that as a chance to voice her own questions. “...Were either of your parents present when it happened?” she asked, confusion prompting her.

“...No, they weren’t even home,” Danny confirmed, feeling defensive in case Raven was going to say something to blame them or something.

She didn’t have anything to say about Jack and Maddie’s actions though, instead falling into an even more confused, thoughtful silence. “...That doesn’t make any sense…,” she muttered absently.

“What’s the anomaly?” Damian asked, prompting her to speak more.

“There was no offer of intent,” Raven responded, looking up and accepting the unspoken direction to explain. “This arrangement is the bare minimum material construction for an inter realm gateway. But because of that there are parts of the ritual that are missing, that still have to be fulfilled for it to work. Mainly payment, and instruction of intent. These days the intent is usually inscribed into the array to facilitate clarity and stability, and the payment is usually in the form of something being added to the array with the intent to sacrifice it.”

“Wait- So all those stereotypes of people being sacrificed to summoning rituals and stuff isn’t baseless?” Tucker sputtered, immediately associating Raven’s choice of words for meaning human sacrifices.

“Living people are one of the highest forms of payment, so unfortunately it can be common to use them,” Raven confirmed. “But even so, there has to be someone else there to express the desire to use them as payment, and determine what for. Which, from what you’ve all explained, there wasn’t anyone there to do so. I can’t imagine any of you wanting to kill Danny, and I doubt he was trying to offer himself since none of you even knew that was a requirement.”

“Hold up- Are you saying the portal only opened because it took Danny as a sacrifice?!” Danielle blurted, subconsciously stepping in front of Danny defensively.

“Excuse me!?” Jazz gasped, also moving forward.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense for what you’re telling me to have worked,” Raven insisted defensively, withdrawing slightly. “If it was a temporary portal I can understand if there was somehow an annulment of payment since the cost is much smaller. But considering the portal has remained open all this time that must mean a standing contract of sorts was established. Especially when we consider Danny’s state as a perfect liminal being. It seems like the Liminal Realm adopted Danny as one of its own in return for allowing a permanent connection to be established. An equal exchange, a link between two realms with a being who represents that connection.”

“That’s impossible,” Danny snapped, rising to his feet again. “I don’t know what realms you’ve worked with, but the Infinite Realms don’t function like that. Getting into them is probably a lot harder than I thought, sure. But there had to be someone there. The realm wouldn’t just…kill me on its own.”

“The realm of Hell is well known for taking the lives of people any chance it can. Especially those who mess around with rituals unknowingly. If you can’t imagine anyone who was there having a clear intent to sacrifice you, then it would have had to have been the realm itself choosing to take you,” Raven explained, forcing herself to remain calm and not trying to be antagonistic.

“Well I don’t know anything about Hell, but out of the two of us I’m pretty sure I know the most about the Infinite Realms,” Danny snapped back, memories of other people not being willing to listen to him about important matters causing him to get quickly irritated from anxiousness. “So when I tell you that it doesn’t operate that way, then believe me. There might not be much in the way of laws inside the Infinite Realms, but that’s because the highest law that the Realm has is that everyone always has a choice.”

“How do you know that for certain?” Bruce asked, his voice much calmer than the others as he was only trying to add data to back up that apparent fact. He was also trying to help the two children break off their argument by giving them another person to address, but it didn’t quite work.

“Because I’m not the Ghost King!” Danny exclaimed, having the brief thought that he should probably settle down and destress as he was rapidly starting to feel dizzy, but being too invested in the conversation to listen to his own mind. He couldn’t allow another misunderstanding about the Infinite Realms to persist. Not again. “Clockwork said we always have a choice, and it listened when I said no- It accepted me saying no, even though that meant there’d be no king. It wouldn’t-...” he broke off as the dizziness suddenly increased, causing him to sway and be unable to keep himself standing as he put his hands to his head. His face felt hot despite the rest of him starting to feel frigid.

Luckily Wally was quick to zip over to him and catch him, pulling Danny close and crouching carefully to help him partially lay down without being on the floor.

“Danny!”

There were several people who called his name out of varying levels of concern, but there wasn’t much they could do without crowding as Dick made it to their side first.

“...His fever spiked,” Dick informed after resting the back of his hand on Danny’s cheek and forehead. Danny didn’t respond, his head was still spinning, but he wasn’t surprised. Stupid him and pushing himself too far. Again.

“S… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stress him out,” Raven apologized readily, her hands gripping each other in front of her.

“We know you didn’t. The conversation simply got out of hand,” Damian consoled as Tim brought the discarded blanket from before over to the others to get Danny bundled up again.

“Yeah well… telling someone they were murdered instead of dying accidentally is kind of a big deal,” Jason pointed out, feeling a bit snippy from his own unsettled emotions.

“Regardless, I think we’ve learned enough to know we should try something else,” Wally spoke up before anyone could react to that comment. “We can problem solve other issues later if needed, but it’s probably best to conclude for the rest of the day.” And to enforce that statement more he scooped Danny up to prepare to take him back up to bed. “Bruce, let’s bypass the Infinite Realms. Do you think they’d be up for having a realm frequency scan at the Watchtower? Maybe this weekend? It’ll probably be better to just try to connect directly to their realm instead of dropping them off in the connecting one.”

It was a good idea from what they had just learned, even if they had originally explored this possibility to try to use something the kids were familiar with. Bruce nodded in agreement. “I’ll make arrangements. Thank you for your time today.”

Nodding back to Bruce, Wally turned to head back up stairs with Dick following to bring the IV pole along. “Alright kiddo, let’s go back to taking a break,” he commented to Danny, who just let out a grumbled noise of annoyance as well as discomfort while shrinking into the blanket. It earned a chuckle from Wally, who could understand the frustration the boy had even if he couldn’t personally relate. “At least you had an actual meal today. I hear you’ve been stuck to bread and broth for now, which totally suuuucks.”

It was idle chatter as they took the stairs, but it did help Danny feel a little less like a weakling. As they left Tim saved the progress they made on the computer, then turned to look at Danielle since she was the easiest to get answers from. “What did he mean by Ghost King? I wasn’t aware that the Liminal or Infinite Realm or whatever had a monarchy.”

“Eh, we didn’t know for a long time either. But since everyone is allowed to make their own choices, a long time ago some ghost named Pariah Dark made himself king because no one could beat him and he was greedy. But a couple years ago Danny kicked his butt, and some people wanted him to be the new Ghost King because of that. He said no though, so now there’s currently an anarchy,” Danielle explained easily, shrugging.

“He said no to being a king?” Jason asked, both confused and mildly impressed.

“Ruling a realm is a lot to ask of a fourteen year old. Especially a realm full of chaotic ghosts who are apparently only there because they were too stubborn to fully die,” Danielle answered, folding her arms with a mild chuckle.

“That, and Danny didn’t think it counted because he was using a suit that enhanced his abilities a hundred fold,” Sam added.

“Over time he’ll probably get to the same level anyway. But the suit disappeared, so it wasn’t like keeping the title from anyone that challenged him would be easy either,” Tucker added on top of the others.

“He had enough to deal with trying to balance school, hiding from our parents, and dealing with the other ghosts causing trouble. He didn’t need to add ruling a realm on top of that,” Jazz enforced, having always agreed with Danny’s decision.

“Smart,” Jason acknowledged, though he wasn’t sure if he would make the same choice. Ditching the rest of highschool to become a king for a realm with very few people actually didn't sound all that bad.

“My turn for a question,” Danielle spoke up, raising her hand unnecessarily and earning some snickers.

“Sure, what’s up?” Stephanie accepted, feeling it was only fair the visitors got to ask their own questions.

“It’s actually more for Raven,” Danielle clarified, pointing to the girl. “Earlier, when we were doing the whole ritual thingy to get ectoplasm, you mentioned that Danny and I are favored by other realms. And just now you said that the ectoplasm was a gift to me from the Infinite Realm, and talked about how the Realm was the one that took Danny. But I thought realms weren’t sentient…… Are they?”

It was a question that mildly surprised Raven, but she was happy to clarify and elaborate further. “No, they’re not actually sentient in the sense that the realm itself has a mind of its own. Realms have often been mentioned to act, or favor someone, or behave in some manner akin to sentience because it’s easier for people to understand in some regards. But really it’s just the result of the cumulative thoughts and emotions of the beings who belong to that realm. The reason you and Danny are favored by the Liminal Realm is more because the people of the realm seem to like you.”

“Wha- really?” Danielle blinked, openly confused despite that explanation also having made some sense. “I always thought most of the people there didn’t like us.”

“Most of the other ghosts do seem to like picking fights with you two when they show up,” Sam agreed, finding it amusing that the Infinite Realm’s people apparently had favorites.

“Well… like is probably not the correct word,” Raven admitted. “They ‘favor’ you in some manner.”

“I thought being a favorite was just a more intense form of liking something,” Tucker countered, that clarification having not mitigated his confusion at all.

“People always have favorites. But they’re not always nice to their favorites. A favorite punching bag, for example,” Raven tried again, this time earning understanding nods and being able to move on. “Now if you’re wondering why you were given a gift from the realm, when someone is a Realm's favorite they're usually bestowed with special privileges and abilities. Like how Superman seems to be pretty indestructible. Batman has some unusually lucky situations. Things like that. Those boons are normally spread between all who are favorites of the realm. But it is possible when there's only one, distinct favorite they could become more akin to that of a god. I’ve noticed that you and Danny have a rather distinct connection to the Liminal Realm that makes me think you’re quite favored in varying regards.”

“Wait, hold on,” Tucker sputtered, realizing something from Raven’s suggestions. “Are you implying that Danny might be getting, I dunno, new powers or something, because the other ghosts really like using him as a punching bag?”

The connection being said aloud earned a barked laugh from Jason and Stephanie, but Raven only gave a slight smile. “Perhaps,” she half agreed. “It’s a potential that could happen based on what I’ve read and heard.”

“HA! Poor kids,” Stephanie snorted, “At least you’re given stuff to fight back with.”

“Yeaaaah being the favorite child is starting to not seem like a good thing,” Danielle chuckled along with her in good nature.

“So…,” Tim started, pulling them back to a connected issue, “Back to the more uncomfortable part of this. Danny being used as a sacrifice to open that portal was essentially because… enough people in the Liminal Realm were aware of him, aware of the event, and willing to use him?”

“That’s… an accurate way to put it,” Raven admitted, though she wasn’t completely sure herself either. “Based on what I’ve heard, and using simple logic, that would make sense. But I don’t know how true it is, since I don’t know what the Realm was like at the time the portal was opened. There could have been a specific person there, it could have been a collective desire… I don’t know. But I’m fairly certain Danny is the reason the portal is open.”

It was a somber thought, but Tucker couldn’t help shuddering as another thought came to mind. “Makes you wonder how Vlad got his portal to work.”

“You say that like you actually believe the man hasn’t already killed someone before,” Sam retorted dryly, unimpressed.

“...Fair point,” Tucker agreed.

“.... Aaaaand Vlad is?” Tim prodded, starting to think this was someone they should know about after that exchange.

“The guy that created me, and almost killed me,” Danielle responded bluntly, expression going decidedly neutral.

“A sick freak that wants to kill Danny’s dad so he can marry his mom and adopt him as his own child,” Sam added, folding her arms.

“...Ooookay. Write that down Tim. We do not make friends with this Vlad guy, and definitely keep him away from these guys,” Stephanie prodded, poking at Tim since he still had the keyboard for the computer, earning a few snickers from the others.

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Iiiii couldn't manage to focus on anything else to work on today, so I ended up catching up on what I had written |D Lot's of headcanon in this one.

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Grishaverse knitting update

I FINISHED THE SIX OF CROWS BLANKET

Okay maybe ‘finished’ is a strong word; all the ends need weaving in (there are so many of them 😭) and I haven’t bought anything to back it with yet but I CAST IT OFF THIS EVENING I’m calling it finished I’m taking the win

The lighting in the photo really isn’t great but here she is in all her glory:

I’m so freaking happy with it

I know a few people asked about the pattern but I don’t have a written one as I just drew up a chart myself and went for it (my second fair isle project ever, and the first was a bauble. I was not ready for this but man I’m glad I just decided to jump I to the deep end because I am obsessed with the result), however I did put up a screenshot of the drawing I used to make my chart a little while ago and if anyone would like me to repost that with my grid superimposed over it and to explain how I did it and what size yarn and needles and everything I used then let me know and I will try to create an explanatory post

I AM SO EXCITED

In other grishaverse knitting news: I haven’t worked on the Kefta in ages tbh but I think I have one sleeve to go before the embroidery I just hate sleeves lol so I’ve been procrastinating and also just generally busy to be fair, and also did I tell y’all I knitted Wylan’s toy crow? I can’t remember, but yeah in my collection of toy crows of the Crows I now have Jesper and Wylan and they sit on my shelf together looking so damn cute. Jesper has a lil hat that he wears at a fun angle and Wylan has lil goggles on his head and a bomb tucked under his wing hehe

[celestialalpacaron]

Ayo, someone by the name of Curly-B-Blog is redlining art of yours from 2020 (while pretending that it's actually Sai Scribble's work), and kind of being a dick about it. just thought you should know.

You know, originally I was just gonna brush it off, but then I went back to look at my old SU art from 2020 and did so much self reflection from then till now.

I think this was around the time I was just learning how to do perspective and tried to use the perspective tool on Procreate for the first time? :0 and I remember telling Sai “Sai I have this STUPID idea, I CANT believe it this stupid joke it’s so DUMBBBB, it’s living rent free in my BRAIN I SWEAR THIS IS GONNA BE SO STUPID DCIUWHEFIUWHIRFUIW4F” and being super excited to show her the finished product. People still think Sai created the Cursed Skin Gloves comic and I think it’s hilarious wjhwnuhwijwuiw

The comic was received very well and it made LOTS of people laugh and I’m still proud of this comic to this very day! :D and tbh if it wasn’t for my obsession for Sai’s Switcheroo AU I never would have found my passion in comic work! (love you you stinky hoe @saiscribbles 🩷)

HOWEVER…. I definitely still had lots to learn! I wasn’t very good at perspective at the time I’ll admit, but I was definitely having lots of fun learning :3

And throughout the past 4 years, ALOT has happened.

I graduated from college with TWO fancy pieces of expensive papers in Visual Development in Animation and Illustration learning from Will Kim and Jeff Soto, and as a I was working with the funny voice man Cougar MacDowall as a comic/story artist and reached in total around 7 million views for my fan series FNAF Security Malware Breached (it was even #21 on the trending list around the time of my birthday 🩷 what a lovely gift), had an insane opportunity to work with Mike Geno and with the voice cast from The Amazing Digital Circus for a fan song as a background and character asset artist, Vivienne Medrano liking and sharing my silly Overlord Husk AU comics, currently on my route to getting my certificate from Aaron Blaise’s Character design program and graduating from Marc Brunet Art School, and now I am completing my first year as professional colorist and art assistant for my storyboard and comic mentor Michelle Lam, aka Mewtripled! (Also I’ll be heading out to Lightbox Expo 2024 on October 26 with Michelle and the team so if y’all ever wanna meetup hahahajaj wink wink wink wink wink)

So you can say I learned ALOT and I enjoyed every minute of what I do :D I try to be humble about my accomplishments because blah blah being humble good yes yes but this time I wanna be selfish and say HELL YEAH I DID ALL THIS!!! AND IM SO EXTREMELY PROUD OF MYSELF FIUGEIURGERGGRS

Now here’s my most recent comic page that I posted like 2 days ago without the text.

That’s pretty freakin wild to me, I can’t believe I used to draw Steven Universe art like that back in 2020 LOL LIKE GUYS I DREW THIS!! WITH!!! MY HANDS!!! IS THAT NOT INSANE!!!???

Anyways moral of the story:

Learn from everyone and everything! Yes, even then mean ones too! If you can learn to work with anyone, I promise you’ll get to where you want to be faster. People can be a little mean on the internet, but that shouldn’t stop you from being where you want to be in the future. I’m so EXTREMELY grateful for all the opportunities and to all the kind professionals who were willing to give me a chance. Seriously, I’m so graciously thankful for everything, and I hope everyone here will support me and my silly little comics I will do now and in the future!

And one more thing:

Don’t be a jerk. Be to be nice to everyone :D nothing good comes out when you’re bad to everyone.

[trickycreator]

Drew these a bit ago, but I thought I’d share them on here anyway :]

Random fact! I fully colored and shaded Fred’s face even knowing that I was going to cover it up.

Yippee! Yeah, Xara is not the only admin left in this au just thought I would mention that because it seems important.

About the cult thing! So, basically I’m going off of the head canon (at least- I don’t remember if it was ever confirmed in game or not-) that each admin was in charge of one of the three realms of Minecraft (Romeo the Nether, Fred the Overworld, Xara the End) and in this au while it is true that they created each realm, there was something none of them had control over which was the Void!

To summarize it very briefly, one day after messing with the End dimension, Xara hears some funky whispers coming from the Void of the End dimension. She follows them deep into the dark recesses of the Void and has a somewhat coherent conversation with the ancient entity (force of nature?) and it tells her the supposed truth about their world, existence, as well as the other admins, not to mention some secrets of its own. She listens to its every word and this somehow leads to her making a deal with the Void. The original deal was worded something along the lines of “I shall grant you the secrets of your very universe, beyond your limits of understanding. In exchange you are to spread the word of what lies beneath the world. Make them one with it.” She accepted this deal, however she didn’t expect to quite literally become one with a portion of the Void. She learned what she wanted to, yes. But at the cost of her mind. And possibly everything she ever held dear.

Anyway! I might make a funny lore post dedicated to the Void and Xara at some point, but this is all I feel like writing for now. Have a good day/night. :]

Rise the Void!

(A few doodles under the cut)

Fun fact: the doodles I did of Fred and Romeo is what I used to figure out their color palettes in my style :”]

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

[ellewritesalright]

Nine Long Years - Part 1

Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)

Masterlist --- Part 2

Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Author's Notes: Hi Hello Hi! This is my first time publishing my writings so here goes nothing. I wrote this with the books in mind, though you could still imagine the characters from the show. In my head, this story takes place sometime between Crooked Kingdom and King of Scars. I have much more of this story written including more fluffy Nikolai content than the scraps in this chapter so I will post it if y'all want it (I'm talking about there's-only-one-bed content, mutual-pining-in-silence content, Nikolai being a sophisticated dumbass at times content; it's all great I assure you).

Warnings: Minimal Fluff, Much Angst, Jordie and Kaz's (not really tho) deaths in the past, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of firepox and the Hertzoon con, reader oscillating between super excited and absolutely devastated.

Word Count: 2,800

..........

NINTH YEAR

The Crow Club was a new establishment since you had last walked the streets of the Barrel many years ago. You could remember going past the front of the building on your way to the exchange, but you couldn't recall it being anything but vacant. Back then there were no tourists and gamblers crawling about the place like there were now. It was just as empty as the coffee shop where a dreadful man conned you and your brothers.

You tapped your fingers against the table. In your glass of kvas, you could see your false reflection. This voyage aboard the Volkvolny was the first time your face was tailored to appear unlike your own. At first, Tolya did not make the drastic differences that he employed with your husband; he made more subtle differences with you. Shifts in the eyebrows and the cheekbones, the reshaping of your jaw. Nikolai hadn't been convinced that you looked different enough to be safe, though, so the colour of your eyes and hair were changed and your nose was just slightly offset for extra measure.

Nikolai was staring at you now with the green eyes of Sturmhond. His appearance as the privateer did not make you uneasy, not in the way you assumed your altered appearance was making him, and you smiled as he squeezed your knee beneath the table.

You had met him first as Sturmhond, so you were used to the red hair and crooked nose. After many months at sea on an assortment of ships, you got a permanent spot on the crew of the Volkvolny. It was the ship's first time docked in the Ketterdam harbours, and its captain was a young scoundrel, or so your coworkers had said during the first week at sea.

"He looks too young to be captain of a ship. How did he get his money, eh?" A crewmate bristled as you stood on the deck. This man looked as weathered as some of the sails on the boats in the shabby fifth harbour.

"Heard he stole his wealth off a Zemeni gunsmith," another crewmate said.

"Yeah? Well, I heard he was a Ravkan mercenary who did contract killings for their king." The older one turned to you. "What do you think, kid?"

"I think that I don't care where he made his money as long as he pays my wages." You drew your eyes up from your knot. "Besides, you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"A very wise sentiment, Rietveld," Sturmhond boomed from behind you.

He snuck up without a word, and now your crewmates stood wide-eyed as they stared at their captain. You turned to see him watching the others, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"You might have heard I made my money in magical deer shit, but that doesn't mean it's true."

Then he peered at you with a smirk, called on the others to get back to work, and walked away.

Nikolai gave you that same look now, his gloved hand secure on your thigh. You knew the raised brow and quirked lips all too well. More often than not, the combination spelled trouble. Yet you supposed trouble wasn’t difficult to find in the Barrel. 

A bouncer approached your table and spoke only briefly, “Brekker will see you now,” before escorting your group across the floor of the gambling den.

Sturmhond entered first with you second and Tamar behind you. Your husband smiled as he looked towards a figure seated behind a desk. He approached diplomats, noblemen, and criminals in the same way, with charm, eloquence, and a warm smile. You held back your amusement at that thought, suppressing a smile of your own as you glanced around the room. The paintings and decor looked expensive, and you had to wonder how much of it was stolen. 

“The guy’s a ruthless thief and con,” Nikolai had said when he got home after meeting Brekker for the first time.

You were stuck in Ravka planning your wedding during his trip; it was a dreadful time, and you guilted Nikolai into explaining every little detail of his little journey across the True Sea.

“You might like him, though. He’s got more honour than the merchant council and the rest of those Barrel bosses combined.”

And now you were here in his office. The figure at the desk got out of his chair, and the movement caught your eye. The cheery expression on Sturmhond had not rubbed off on the man, and he stood with his features as hard as a rock. You examined his face, noted the scars that no doubt came from street fights and brawls in the dead of night, and then you looked at his eyes. There was something about them. The dark brown was something you had seen before, perhaps when you were first here in Ketterdam. You met so many people during that time.

When his stare fell on you your throat felt dry. He had the eyes of a calculating lynx, a predator about to ensnare his prey. You knew he was aware of Sturmhond’s true identity, but you weren’t sure if he would correctly assume your position in Ravka. You had only been the queen for a few months, and bills with your likeness had not yet been printed. Few people outside of Ravka could identify you, and fewer still could when you were tailored to fit your new sea-faring alias.

Still, his eyes made you uneasy. You knew them somehow, you just had to know them; but how?

“Tamar, Bos,” Sturmhond said, springing you from the trappings of Brekker’s eyes, “meet my associate, Kaz Brekker.”

There it was, and it hurt as much as being attacked by a volcra. You had taken blows to the gut that didn’t make you as sick as you felt now.

The pain was twofold. Firstly, when either of your dead brother’s names was mentioned you always felt a bitter pain in the pit of your stomach, an acidic burning that twisted your insides like a poison you would quickly succumb to. Your littlest brother was named Kaz, same as the Kaz before you. Seven years your junior, Kaz was too sweet for the cutthroat world around him. Back at the farm, you used to tuck him under your arm and read him stories so he would fall asleep. He was a bright and enthusiastic boy who always made sure to share his sweets with you, even if Da rarely bought them.

But the pain of hearing Kaz’s name was nothing compared to the crushing realization that this was him standing in front of you, all grown up, and very much alive. 

His birthday was last week, and you celebrated it alone with a moment of silence below deck of the Volkvolny. At that moment you thought to yourself how he would have been eighteen by now, how he could have attended the university and gotten a better education than anyone in your family ever had, how he could have had a full life if he didn’t succumb to the pox.

Yet here he was; eighteen and looking worn beyond his years, his life in the barrel undoubtedly having treated him with the cruelty it kept in vast supply. 

“Bos?” Sturmhond patted your shoulder. “Are you listening?”

You turned your attention to him. “I might have missed what you last said, could you repeat yourself?”

“Perhaps your friend should wait outside if she can’t pay attention,” Kaz suggested with a scowl. Was it really him? You had never seen Kaz make such a face at you.

“No,” you rushed to say. After almost nine years of thinking he was dead, you needed every second you could get with your brother. “It was only a momentary lapse. Please, continue.”

They did, and you tried your hardest to listen. You caught snippets of what they were saying, enough to piece things together if your mind strayed, but you were only giving half of your attention. Your eyes kept wandering off course, studying the boy you thought to be dead.

He stepped up to a map on his wall as he spoke with your husband, and you didn't miss the limp in his step. Was that something he got a long time ago or was it new? Did he sustain it when he was taken by the reaper's barge? And how had he survived? You held him and Jordie as they died, but if Kaz was here before you, was Jordie alive too?

No, you shouldn't get your hopes up. And you shouldn't let your mind race with questions like these. Surely you could approach him, ask him whatever you could think of. But you were frozen as you took in the revelation. There was no way you could approach him with it now--you would be incoherent.

Still, as you sat there you had no other thought in your head besides the boy you'd played parent to after Da died.

It was a miracle that Kaz was standing in front of you, breathing and with the flush of life in his healthy–if a little pale–skin. It was a miracle, and a miracle was more than you thought your family could ever have after all the misfortune you'd suffered. But if there was anyone who deserved a miracle, it was sweet little Kaz.

..........

The meeting finished, Kaz dismissed you from his office, and you felt the disappointment sink in. There was no reason for Kaz to recognize you while you were tailored, but you still hoped he would somehow know anyways. He was your brother, and he knew you better than many. Though perhaps, like him, you had changed as well. It had been almost nine years, after all.

Either way, you followed Nikolai back to the Volkvolny, elation in your step, and nervous dread splashing in your stomach. Nikolai was a few paces ahead--busily engaged in conversation with Tolya--while Tamar kept step beside you, seemingly in silent argument with herself every time you glanced at her. As you reached the harbour, she finally spoke up.

"Bos," she started, maintaining your identity despite the absence of witnesses around you. "Your heartbeat has been erratic since you saw Brekker."

You gulped, a move you regrettably realized the heartrender would know of.

"It keeps speeding up like a racehorse then lulling below your usual beats per minute. In the meeting, I kept thinking you might pass out."

"I'm alright, Tamar," you assured her, though you felt your heart speed up a bit as you kept away the truth. "I feel better than I have in a while, actually."

"Is that so?" Her eyes were skeptical.

"It is."

She dropped the topic as you reached the Volkvolny. 

You went right to the captain's cabin, eager to have Nikolai to yourself so you could share the exciting–if not bizarre–news. You wasted no time stripping off your heavy coat and tugging off your boots. Nikolai would take his time as captain of the ship, checking with the crew to make sure everything was in shape before he joined you, so you sat down on the bed, face in your hands as you considered your evening at the Crow Club. 

"He's alive," you grinned into your palms. "My baby brother is alive."

The thought was all you could think of, and even as you heard Nikolai's boots coming down the hall, everything besides Kaz was so distant to you.

"The meeting went rather well, I think," Nikolai said as he shut the door behind him. He came to sit with you. "But you were very quiet all night. Are you alright, my love?"

"Better than alright."

"I'm glad to hear that. It didn't seem like that earlier; you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

You looked at Nikolai. "That's because I did." You played with the most ornate of his rings, bringing his hand to rest between yours. "I’ve told you about my brothers, Nikolai. Do you remember their names?"

"Yes, Jordie and… Kaz." He looked at you, realization dawning in his eyes. "You don't think–"

"I don't think, I know. It’s him, I just know it. He’s my baby brother, Niko." You grinned and flopped back onto the bed. It was firmer than the one in your palace suite, but you’d grown accustomed to the roughness again on this voyage after a few years away from this cabin. "Saints, I need to see him again."

Nikolai glanced away from you, silent for a moment as if in debate with himself. "My love, I don't think that’s a very good idea. I know Brekker, and he’s nothing like the stories you’ve told me of your brother. I think seeing him again--seeing how he’s changed--would only upset you."

You sat up again, staring directly into Nikolai’s eyes.

"What upsets me is that my husband doesn’t think I should reunite with the only family I have left," you scoffed.

"I know you want to see him, I'm just afraid you'll be disappointed."

"I thought he was dead, but now he's alive. There is no way he could disappoint me.” You grabbed your husband's hands, squeezing them gently as you faced your body towards him.  “He's alive, Nikolai."

He sighed. "People can die in many different ways, not only when they stop living."

"You think he's so vicious of a criminal that I would rather he be dead?"

"Well, no, I just…"

"You just what, Nikolai?"

"I don't want you to get hurt." He brushed his thumb over your knuckles. "I know the nightmares you used to get about your brothers, I know how helpless they made you feel. I’d hate for you to feel that way ever again.”

Your stare fell to his most gaudy ring. It sat in place of his usual wedding ring, which was safely tucked on a chain beneath his shirt just as your wedding ring rested on a chain beneath yours.

He wasn’t wrong about your nightmares. He’d seen you on your worst nights, held you close as you sobbed into his chest. He watched you in the depths of agony, your lungs on fire and your stomach knotted so tightly you probably wouldn’t feel a bullet tearing into your flesh. And although the nightmares weren’t as frequent or debilitating as they once were, you sometimes still woke up crying from a dream of two boys that deserved more from their short lives.

But there was nothing that would make you want to abandon Kaz again. This meeting was a chance to redeem yourself. You could make amends for not protecting Kaz or Jordie as you should have. You could hold Kaz and never part with him unlike when you let the bargemen roll your brothers’ bodies away. This was a second chance you wouldn’t give up.

“Nikolai,” you began, sturdy in your words, “I know you’re concerned for me, and I understand why, but this is something I have to do. I can’t walk away from this trip without as much as a word to my brother when I’ve thought him dead all this time. Even if it turns out that he isn't what I remember, at least I’ll get to speak with him again, to tell him I love him and that I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him.”

“The firepox wasn’t your fault,” he murmured. Nikolai often repeated this to you whenever you felt guilty or woke up trembling in the night.

“I know.” You rested your head against his shoulder. “I know, but I was still supposed to be the big sister; I was still supposed to keep them safe.” Peering up at him, you said, “I just hope he can forgive me.”

“Why would he need to forgive you?”

“Because I left him for dead in a place crawling with liars and cheats. Saints know what he went through without anyone around to care about him.”

You said this as though the saints deigned to look after anyone in the barrel. No higher power was seeing Kaz through his years here, you were sure of that.

“We can go to him again tomorrow,” Nikolai said. “But for now, we should rest.”

There was no way of knowing how Kaz would react when he learned who you were, but you stayed optimistic as you readied for bed. You imagined hugging him, holding him in your arms again for the first time in so many years. You’d exchange stories of your lives without each other. Perhaps he would be amused that you had somehow gone from a farmer’s daughter to a pirate to the queen of Ravka in your time apart; saints knew you were still a bit bewildered by it all.

You tossed and turned quite a bit, and you knew you were keeping Nikolai awake too, but you couldn’t help your excited mind. Eventually, you sidled up to your husband–who was ready to wrap his arms around you in an attempt to keep you still–put your head on his chest, and listened to the familiar pumping of his heartbeat.

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more! Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Part 2

[peachhcs]

jealousy, jealousy

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will does a bit of stalking on his burner account

1.7k words

here's a bit of will's groveling while talking with the guys from back home. if i had a burner account, i would also stalk my ex on it, so will's kind of real for that haha

au masterlist

will's eyes glued themselves to his phone screen. he didn't mean to click into samy's account, but one thing led to another and his fingers just typed away the password to his burner account that the girl had no idea he had so he wasn't blocked there.

he just needed to look. a check-in? what sounded better than calling it plain stalking? at least gabe and ryan weren't there to peer over the boy's shoulder and chirp on him for stalking his ex.

the boy's fingers slid through her profile. he hadn't seen it in awhile, so when he saw four new posts in her feed since the last time he looked, he was immediately tapping into them. will's gaze slid over every single photo.

samy's smile was wide and bright as she stood with hannah and their other friends. even her soccer photos captured her large smile and seeing it made will smile back. he always loved seeing her love soccer as much as she did.

the blonde scrolled until he stumbled onto a photo in one of her recent posts. the fourth picture out of the ten in the set was of samy standing very close to a guy will didn't quite recognize. his arm was wrapped around her waist and something in will pinched.

that feeling—one he had so long ago he hardly remembered it—started resurfacing the longer he stared at the photo. memories of samy's senior homecoming flashed in will's mind while he compared her date to the guy in this photo.

who the fuck was this guy? luckily, he was tagged, so will went to his account. it was public.

upon further inspection, the guy was their age, a soccer player for the men's team, and worst of all he had a similar photo of him and samy on his account too. actually, the brunette was in his feed twice.

they looked really close. too close.

will scoffed. the guy wasn't even that good looking. plus, he so wasn't samy's type. the boy clicked back into her account to inspect the rest of the photos.

for some reason he couldn't believe how happy she looked as if they didn't break up. she looked like nothing even happened, but that was how will looked too. at least he tried to.

suddenly, the boy's phone buzzed in his hand. gabe's name flashed across the screen and a smile appeared on the blonde's lips as she slid to answer the call. his friend's face quickly appeared.

"hey, did i catch you at a bad time?" gabe wondered when he connected.

"no, no. i'm in my room," the blonde chuckled.

"okay, good. ry and drew are with me too. they wanted to say hi," the dark-haired boy pointed his laptop towards the other boys who waved.

"hey smitty!"

"yooo, what's up!"

will smiled widely at their hello's, "hey, it's good to see you guys again."

"we miss you a lot here. it's not the same without our other guy," drew cut in.

"i miss you guys too. it doesn't feel the same not playing on the same team anymore," the blonde hummed a bit sadly.

that was the hardest thing about all of this. on top of going through a breakup, will's best friends weren't around to help him through it. he only saw them through a screen now.

"you start soon, right? in a week?" ryan wondered as him and drew sat behind gabe in what must've been one of their rooms or something. 

"yeah, i make my debut at the game next week," will nodded, excitement filling his system at that. he's waited since he was a kid to finally take the ice as an official nhl player and knowing that day was finally a week away didn't quite feel real. 

"dude, you're gonna be awesome. i wish we could be there to see it," gabe frowned a bit which made will frown again. 

"i wish you guys were here, too. how's boston been? the same?" 

"yeah, pretty much. tailgates, parties, practice, you know. the usual," drew commented earning small eye rolls from gabe and ryan. 

"mostly practice. coach wants us working extra hard this year after last season," ryan cut in and the blonde nodded. he figured coach would get on the team harder this season after they lost the ncaa finals without scoring any points. 

"what've you been doing though? are the guys cool?" gabe changed the subject. 

"oh, they're great. they've been showing me around the area and i think i'll really like it," the boy nodded. he felt content and the people on the team seemed like good guys, so he knew he was in good hands. 

there was just a few things missing. 

"met any girls?" drew teased with a large smirk. 

will's expression faltered while gabe and ryan glared in the other boy's direction. they didn't hound will as much about the whole breakup anymore, but the subject was still touchy and they knew for a fact will wasn't ready to meet other people yet. 

"dude," ryan mumbled, but will still heard him through the call. 

"uh, no. i haven't, but it's fine," the blonde offered a tight-lipped smile. the other three studied their friend for a moment, trying to decide if he was being truthful or not. 

samy's name wasn't one that came up a lot around them anymore when will was in conversation. they knew he didn't wanna talk about her, so they tried keeping her name out of their mouths as much as possible. they never even told him she visited last weekend to see them for their first home game of the season not knowing how that'd make will feel, but gabe decided to try his luck today with the topic. 

"uh, samy was up last weekend. she came and saw us for the first home game of the season," the dark-haired boy informed. he studied his friend's face for a reaction, worried that will would get mad or something. 

"oh, she did?" was all will said. 

"yeah, it was really nice of her. she was pretty excited for us. we took her out for dinner and everything, too," gabe smiled a bit. 

"that's cool. i'm glad she..she went out," will nodded while a part of him twisted. 

he knew the guys were still her friend, he just never really thought that she'd actually fly out to see them still when he wasn't there. plus, none of them even said anything to him about it last weekend. there wasn't even a story post about her being there. will knew his friends loved him, but did they really think they needed to hide whenever they were hanging out with his ex so he didn't know? 

"she asked about you..or well..we started talking about you a bit and she asked about you," ryan hummed making the blonde's ears perk up. 

"what did she say?" 

"just asked how you were. we said you were good. settled into san jose. she said she's glad you're doing good," ryan continued. hearing all of that made will's stomach continue twisting. of course she was glad he was doing good even when he (stupidly) broke her heart. 

"i haven't talked to her. i don't think she'd wanna talk to me anyway," will laughed dryly. 

"i'm sure she does if she asked how you were doing. she's not that heartless, will," drew chuckled some. the blonde could only manage a weak smile in response. 

"do you know if she's like..talking to anyone or anything?" will tried asking casually so it wouldn't seem like he was stalking her account and so the guys didn't know he resorted to the burner account to look her up. 

"uh..not really. i think she's just going on random dates. nothing serious," gabe shrugged. 

"so she is seeing people though?" 

when gabe nodded will felt his heart sink. he figured she probably would, but hearing it aloud hurt even more than he thought. 

"why do you ask?" ryan wondered, eyebrows raised. 

"no reason. i was just curious," the blonde attempted to play off his disappointment. 

"were you stalking her account?" gabe said because he knew his best friend well, even through a screen. the boy knew about the burner account because he saw it on will's phone a few months back when he caught him stalking samy's account too. 

"no." 

"will." 

"okay, maybe i was," the blonde rolled his eyes. 

"i thought she blocked you?" drew raised his eyebrow. 

"she did..i was just looking on my burner account," will admitted, embarrassment coating his expression. 

"oh boy," ryan muttered like he was unimpressed, yet he knew will would do something like this. 

"oh, come on. give me a break. it's not stalking. i was just..checking in?" 

"i think you should reach out to her. see how she is?" gabe cut in before ryan began arguing with him. 

"i told you, she doesn't wanna talk to me. she said she never wanted to see me ever again, so i doubt she'd want me to randomly text her. i'm probably blocked anyway," will mumbled knowing he definitely was because he actually did try and reach out to her about a month ago. his text went green, so that was a clear indication his number was blocked on her phone. 

"well, i hope you know she does wanna see you again even if she won't say it. i know she still thinks about you because she wears her charm bracelet and she's always stroking the shark charm i'm guessing you have her?" gabe raised his eyebrow. 

will immediately thought back to his farewell party where he talked a bit with mrs. hughes. the envelope had sat in his pocket all day deciding if he should find samy and give it to her before deciding it was probably better to have her mom give it to her instead. he didn't even know if samy would want it, so hearing that it was on her charm bracelet was a surprise. 

"i wouldn't think she doesn't want to see or talk to you too fast, will. you guys have history. you're like family. we're rooting for you guys," ryan said with a soft smile. 

the hockey player hummed, swiping out of the facetime to go back to samy's instagram. after another sweep of her recent posts, he did notice the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist. all of the charms were still there, even the ones he gifted her since she's had it. a soft smile spread across will's lips when he caught sight of the shark one. 

[moonpie016]

Moon goes on a whole talking session.

*Walks in and realizes that this is becoming a frequent thing to post on here. And I'm happy about that, because I get to show what I make all the time. :]*

But now onto the drawings, and will eventually make a list on things I want to do next because that'll help me stay on track.

---

Positive stuff below the drawing.

---

It's the dudes inside my head, yay. Though they're all asleep, well two of em are. I drew this for whatever purpose it would serve, that being that my insides, while still a confused state and overall over reactive response to anything that needs rephrasing. Or just anything that happens, good, bad, whatever, that it has a way of comforting itself. It tries.

It tries to do the bare minimum of existing, even if it is tricky with having to always remember and think of more to do.

How to react appropriately, how to understand things to its full capability. How to understand others and everything more.

It's difficult, not in the way that doing things is difficult, but however that goes. These conceptualized beings of emotion have existed for some time, don't remember when but they have. But they always hadn't looked like this, obviously/lh.

But they all serve the same purpose combined or separate.

---

And, to go completely off topic, to go ramble.

Songs have whatever emotional attachment they can hold, whether important or not, it's just something that sticks. Helps.

And as you can see how much art I make, how many times I've probably listened to most of all the songs on repeat by now, what random pieces of dialogue I'll spew to write.

Chonny's music is comfort. Now it isn't just his, other artists as well. But those aren't important rn. His music in general, not just CCCC. Through whatever emotional moment months ago that made me feel lost and confused on what to do, what do I do now. I needed to find something to latch onto, if not, I'd feel..off. like I wasn't doing anything, because I wasn't doing anything. I tried to get into stuff but it wasn't working, like it needed to naturally happen instead of force myself.

The music has related to my state of mind (no pun) at certain points. And I find that comforting. Concerning? Maybe, but comforting.

Like, getting into what's popular, what new game, but that didn't work. And I'm kinda happy my brain decided to be now fixated on this man's music. Sure every time I'd like to explain or show someone, I need to specify and always show specific songs. Cus. Yeah. But now, I see people's work and stuff, and it's all so cool. And though the inconsistency of this blog is very apparent. I've enjoyed my time on here, very much. Even if I don't always actually speak to someone, because I don't really know what to say or start a conversation. (Seeds/social anxiety). I'm still happy for whatever interaction I get. I'm happy to feel included in this bizarre/pos and silly household. Idk why I'm calling it a household. Just go with it.

Even if I linger around or just post a drawing, I'm enjoying it. Some artwork may be more serious than silly. But yeah.

And to also just say whatever without rethinking is great, now I'm not going to say anything out of word. But just being silly in general with my wording. Y'know? Make odd jokes or talk excessively. (Wow).

Sum it up, I appreciate you all. Though you don't know me or I know you, it means a lot. I didn't think a joke about Heart beating up Mind would be turned into anything else, or that people would actually say anything.

This is just a happy little appreciation thing. I don't know how to end it! I just felt to write this.

So, uh yeah. :3

*Runs back into the hills*

Thanks for reading my ramble/pos.

---

[eveledoze]

Which tadc ship do you like more? Funnybunny or Showtime?

oh well long-post comes-

okay i did a little searching, since i often don't understand such ship names. if google doesn't lie to me, then the first one is Pomni/Jax, and the second is Pomni/Caine.

damn, I thought funnybunny was the name for Ragatha/Jax 💔💔

i don't ship Pomni/Jax but i find the pairing cute. i don't sense any special dynamic between them, Jax just makes fun of her the same way he makes fun of everyone else because he's a jerk (i say this lovingly). when i discovered that this pairing was the most popular in the fandom, i didn’t really understand why, since i wouldn’t say that there was anything particularly interesting going on between these two. I think the dynamics between Jax and Ragatha were more distinct, which I immediately noticed, they had tension and i really liked it x) but then, after thinking about it a little, i realized why Pomni/Jax is the most popular ship (I guess?? it's just my supposition) — people combined two of the most main characters, one of whom is a badass-tumblr-sexyman, and the second is an angsty ordinary person with whom people could identify themselves. anyway i just find it funny that so many people like this ship. i saved fanarts of these two a couple of times because i thought they were cute. to be honest, kitsch's (@ bunnyjesters/ nuzipilled) works probably influenced my opinion about this ship the most. arts with Pomni and Jax from kitsch is probably my favorite among all the other fanarts for this couple, i think that he well preserves their canon behavior and characters despite the fact that the pairing itself in the cartoon is non-canon, and their interactions in his art feel quite realistic for me! i love how kitsch draws them and how he uses gestures and body language to show their emotions, it's very, very cute. so yeah, i don't ship them, but i do find some of the fanart of them cute. i drew this a while ago, so have this if it will make you happy 🌸

now Kaine/Pomni...ahmmm, to be honest, i was even more surprised that this is probably the second most popular pairing in the fandom? :D apparently it really comes across often and haha, i don’t understand it... i’ve never been interested in the dynamics of student/teacher or employee/boss, in my understanding there can be no romance in their relationship, maximum platonic, family relationships, understanding each other. Kaine is very quirky and doesn't seem like he's interested in romance (i generally like Kaine/Moon, but i really think Kaine is just confused by Moon's behavior since he's not interested in her romantically x)). it's more like he treats all the guys in circus like friends, colleagues or something like that. so yeah, it's weird for me to see romantic stuff with Pomni/Caine, but like the first one, occasionally i might come across fanart with them that i think is cute. once I saw a mini-comic (don't remember the author) dedicated to that circus teaser, in the comic Caine suddenly appeared in Pomni's room. Pomni, out of fear, hits him sharply, after which he got upset and she began to apologize <з

if we talk about my fav ship, i love Ragatha/Jax! i don't remember this "name" for the pairing, but yes, that's them. dynamics like theirs are my favorite dynamic in couples, i just love it when characters can't stand each other lol. i love the tension between them and i'm afraid i paid too much attention to it while watching the pilot... oh my god, a moron, who pisses everyone off, with a good-natured girl, who wants to help everyone, but she has to deal with this asshole. i guess it's the "from hate to love" trope, right? i like that the first thing that manifests itself in such couples is negativity, they just piss each other off and cannot calm down. but after a while the annoying cools down and they begin to open up to each other. ofc i don't know Gooseworks’ plans, but you guys probably thought that Jax is actually not such a jerk as he shows himself to be, and in fact he is a deeper character, with his own traumas and trials? let's not turn this into a tragic sob story, but nevertheless, Gooseworks said "every tadc character has a reason why they behave the way they do" and i believe that we will be revealed that. it seems to me that to some extent Jax and Ragatha can complement each other. Like, you know, it’s like N helps Uzi cool down and be calm, and Uzi helps N to be confident and defend his positions. maybe Jax can show Ragata that her toxic positivity is not the best option and sometimes you need to be tough, and Ragatha can help him open up, share his problems and well...to be less jerk-like. and yes, of course i can't get it out of my head that Jax called her "dollface" while he gave the others rude nicknames haha

also i like Ragatha/Pomni, i probably don’t pay much attention to them, but they're good. there are cute interactions between them and it seems that Ragatha was better than the others in being able to approach her and become somewhat of a friend. Ragatha has this energy of a caring mother or something, so her desire to help Pomni get comfortable in the circus and direct her to positive thoughts is cute. at the same time, Pomni looks extremely confused, but Ragatha is the one she turns to because she seems the most adequate and friendly of the others. i liked to draw how they hug, but in i think that most likely Ragatha would not have allowed herself to hug someone without asking, at least she would have asked permission x) however, it seems to me that physical contact and kind words are Ragatha's way of support, so simply holding hands with her would calm Pomni down

also i like Pomni/Gangle and Gangle/Kinger and i don'tind other ships as well !!

[life-love-musicaltheatre]

This started more as a self indulgent joke I made in the tags of @unclewaynemunson’s post that I ended up running away with.

I just really like baseball and I think Eddie would agree with me that Steve with a nail bat could convince me to do anything.

⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇

If you were to tell Eddie Munson that within 3 months he would watch a girl die, become wanted for murder of said sweet sweet girl, steal an RV, almost die himself in a hell dimension, get carried out of said hell dimension by his high school crush, and then have his name mysteriously cleared of all charges and /those/ events led to him playing a sport for the first time in his life, he would ask who sold you the drugs you were on because it definitely wasn’t him. But somehow, there he was, in the middle of a small clearing with Steve Harrington’s chest pressing gently against his back, hands over his own while they swung a bat through the air. Eddie and Steve were both sweaty and the repetition of the motion was actually nice. Eddie felt Steve slip from behind him and he caught himself from sighing at the loss of contact. 

“Alright, think you’re ready to take a swing at a moving target?”

Eddie eased into the stance they’d been practicing and closed his eyes while he drew a steadying breath. 

“Throw it.”

In truth this chapter of Eddie’s life had started a week ago when Steve asked him to grab Dustin’s backpack from his trunk. 

“What the fuck, Harrington!”

Steve jogged over as Eddie gestured to the contents of his car. “Oh! Yeah, that’s my bat.”

Steve said it like it was the most casual thing in the world to own a baseball bat with FUCKING NAILS sticking out of it! Eddie blinked and gestured again, more forcefully since it seemed to him Steve missed the whole point of What The Fuck Harrington-ing him. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled as if Eddie was putting on just for Steve’s amusement. (Which to be honest, he was, but only a little bit.) 

“It’s /the/ bat, Munson. Y’know, the one I took on those dog things with.” He said it with an almost shy smile like he was embarrassed to be bragging about himself. 

Eddie blinked at him. Yeah, that was something Dustin had filled him in on, but he’s only heard it in snippets till then, and at no point did anyone mention the nails. 

“You still drag that around in your car?” Dustin added as he grabbed his backpack from Eddie’s loosening grip.He’d thought it before, but it never ceased to absolutely floor Eddie how casually his new friends talked about near apocalyptic experiences. He shook himself a little as a hard reset before taking a deep breath and reminding himself he did in fact care about these weirdos, who were now bickering over the merits of being able to swing a bat. 

“I taught Nancy how to swing it, and then I kicked that demogorgon’s ass at the Byers’! You cannot disparage the bat Henderson.”

“Oh you taught Nancy? That explains why she’s crap with melee weapons and sticks to her guns. Literally! She could blow your bat out of the water with her aim!”

Steve put his hands on his hips and leveled Dustin with a glare. “S’not my fault she found something she was better at. Plus, I bet I could teach any one of you how to swing. I was in charge of batting practice Sophomore and Junior year.”

“Then teach me.”

Both boys turned and looked at Eddie like they just remembered he was there. Eddie was even a little surprised he’d spoken up, but he was never one to back down from a challenge and with a chance to be close to Steve on the line there was no limit to the type of fool he’d make of himself. 

“You sure about that?” Steve asked cautiously. 

Eddie shrugged. “If it gets you two to stop giving me a headache then I’ll even let you teach me what order to run the little baggies in, Steve-o.”

Steve looked at him hard for a beat before breaking out into a huge grin. “Alright. You asked for it man.” 

With that Steve slammed the trunk and the three of them went inside. Eddie should have felt nervous, but with the way Steve’s face lit up he was honestly just trying not to swoon. He looked so excited and Eddie would do anything to see Steve’s face light up like that again. So they made plans, next afternoon Steve had off work he was going to teach Eddie how to swing his nail bat. 

—

The day came fast and Steve had given him specific instructions to wear pants and shoes he could run in. They met at Steve’s house and walked out into the woods; Steve carrying a navy blue bag that Eddie was sure was hiding the nail bat from prying eyes. There was a giddiness in the air between the boys as they made their way to a small clearing deep in the trees. 

“Alright,” Steve clapped his hands together as he rounded on Eddie, “time for batting practice, Munson.”

He unzipped the bag and dropped it before pulling out two normal bats and a baseball. 

For a split second Eddie was confused at the lack of nails and a grin on Steve’s face that could only be described as shit eating. It took him a half second longer to realize he’d been tricked by Steve Harrington into playing real, actual baseball for an entire afternoon. 

Eddie’s silence stretched on a beat more and Steve’s smile faltered. 

“I was-“

“Let’s hit balls.”

Steve’s worried look morphed into a smile as he hid a snort behind his hand. “I think you’re looking for ‘Let’s play ball.’”

Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed, “Whatever you say, oh Royal Knight of the field,” bowing low before taking the bat Steve was holding out to him. 

“Ok, I know you’re just trying to make fun of me, but actually the Kansas City Royals won the World Series last year so that’s actually a compliment.”It was Eddie’s turn to hide a laugh as Steve idly twirled his bat in his hands—a move Eddie was sure if he tried to replicate would end up with him smacking himself in the head—as he looked Eddie up and down. 

“Alright now, I want to see what we’re working with.” Eddie started feeling fidgety under Steve’s gaze. “Give me a swing.”

“Ok man, you asked for it.”

Eddie planted his feet wide and leaned over at the hips before swinging fast, almost losing his grip on the back swing. He looked up (when had he started looking down?) at Steve to see him with his brow furrowed, biting his bottom lip. Eddie winced and shrugged. “Like I said...”

“No. I mean it’s not great, by any means, but,” Steve’s brow softened, “it’s not the worst I’ve seen. And you didn’t almost hit me so you’ve got that over Nance.”

Eddie felt something in his chest brighten involuntarily. He smirked at Steve, “So you’re saying I have a shot at making the team, Harrington?”

Steve laughed and Eddie felt like his chest was visibly glowing. “You already made the cut, Eds. We just gotta whip you into playing shape now.”

And as light as Eddie felt, making Steve smile and sharing something he obviously loved so much, so began one of the sweatiest afternoons of Eddie’s life.

They started with his grip, which according to Steve wasn’t too horrible actually, but needed to be more relaxed so it didn’t affect his overall swing. Steve used his own bat to tap at Eddie, moving his feet closer together so they were shoulder width apart, raising his hands up higher and lengthening out his neck so he was actually looking up and not at his feet. All the while he gave instructions about how Eddie should position his weight over his back foot and step into the swing, lead with his hips, and don’t try to end the swing till he finishes following the movement all the way through.

Steve made him do a few more, even doing a few swings of his own so Eddie could see what he meant, but it seemed like both of them were just becoming more frustrated, till Steve ran a hand through his hair and groaned.

“Fuck it.”

Steve dropped his bat and moved behind Eddie, dropping his hands firmly to his hips and pulling them back. Eddie let his bat fall slack, stuck between telling Steve off for not warning him first and melting into his grip. 

“You’re rotating too fast. You’re throwing your hips too much and you’ll get hit by the ball if you’re not careful.”

Eddie could feel Steve’s words like a cooling breeze on the back of his neck. He nodded, not trusting his voice with Steve pressed this close, right behind him.

“You have to let every part of your body flow through the swing.” Steve was pulling his hips, “Bat up Munson,” and Eddie let himself be dragged through the motion. 

Back, step forward, pull through. Again. Back, step forward, pull through. All the while Steve was guiding his body through the motion, it felt hypnotic and fluid. Much better than how Eddie had been doing it before. 

“Good.” Steve moved his arms up and wrapped his hands over Eddie’s. “Keep the bat up higher. You want to let it fall back a little when you wind up.”

They moved through the swing together some more—back, step forward, pull through—and Eddie felt himself sink into the motion fully for the first time that day. It’d only been a couple hours they’d been practicing but his swings were getting surer. The bat was loose in his grip but he didn’t feel like it was going to go sailing into the trees like it almost had earlier. Eddie felt a tingle of something start to well up and spread through his limbs with every swing. Steve’s body was warm behind his. He was just starting to relax into the strong arms around him when Eddie felt Steve slip from behind him and he caught himself from sighing at the loss of contact. 

“Alright, think you’re ready to take a swing at a moving target?”

Steve had gone to stand in front of him, pulling the baseball out from his pocket. Eddie squared up. Weight over his back foot, knees and feet shoulder width apart, knuckles lined up and fingers loose around the bat handle. He closed his eyes, took a final breath to steady himself before looking up at Steve with a sure smile. 

“Throw it.”

Steve matched his smile before jogging back a few paces and taking a stance of his own. He tossed the ball underhanded towards Eddie and he wound up, stepping forward, and swinging sure through the pitch. He only caught the edge of the ball and it soared straight up into the air before coming back down and landing a foot behind where Eddie was standing. Steve’s laugh was bright as it cut through their clearing. 

“Nice! You tipped it!” Eddie was scowling at the ball but looked up as Steve continued. “Toss it back and I’ll throw you another one.”

Eddie wanted to stay pissy but it was hard when Steve was obviously having so much fun. He threw it back the same way Steve had tossed it to him and it rolled the last few feet to where he was standing. He laughed again.

“Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to throw.”

Eddie laughed back, “How about we master one feat of athleticism at a time?”

They were smiling at each other as they reset their positions. Steve nodded at Eddie before tossing the ball, only for him to tip it again, this time landing in front of him. Eddie tossed it back quickly before squaring up again. 

“Come on Steve! Give me a good throw!” He called out. He was long past denying that he was enjoying himself too.

Steve threw his head back, his mirth was palpable and it made Eddie’s face flush. “All right, you asked for it.”

Steve’s stance changed. It felt more serious, standing profiled as he hiked his leg up and let a real pitch go. 

Eddie still swung at it. Of course he swung at it. He felt his hips pull forward and lead his shoulders and hands through his swing, eyes wide as he saw the bat make full contact with the ball and send it flying over Steve’s head and out into the trees beyond. There was a millisecond where the world was quiet before they could faintly hear the ball hit the first few leaves as it went through the canopy and suddenly Eddie felt pride explode in his chest. Steve began cheering as Eddie took off, running where he imagined the bases to be, egged on by Steve’s laughter. 

“Eddie, dude! You’re running the wrong direction!” He doubled over as Eddie made a show of going around base numbers one and two. “Fuck it! Run home, Eddie! Run home!” 

Eddie rounded close enough to base three before turning and sprinting directly at Steve. He jumped at him the last few paces crashing into him with a giant hug, sending them down to the forest floor. Both of them were too happy to care, they continued holding on to each other as they celebrated. 

“Safe! Touchdown, Kansas City!” Eddie crowed from half on top of Steve. 

“I know, you know that’s not right.” Steve said as their laughing died down. Eddie looked down at Steve below him and felt a pull in his gut. Sweaty and still so beautiful, he let his eyes flicker down to Steve’s lips. 

“Is this part of the game too?” He asked quietly. 

“Nah,” Steve’s smile practically sparkled up at him, “but I can still probably show you a thing or two.”

“You’re on.” Eddie grinned as he closed the gap between them and gave Steve a soft kiss. 

He felt Steve’s hands come up and gently thread through his hair, not to deepen but to hold. They lazily let their lips slide over each other’s, Eddie more than happy to stay in their little clearing for the rest of the day, till Steve broke the kiss with a giggle. 

“Y’know, again, I know you were joking but Kansas City’s also got a football team and-“

“You know what Steve? Let’s just stick with baseball for now.”

⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇

Please let me know what you think. I personally think there needs to be more fics about Eddie getting into Steve’s hobbies too. I love the ones where Steve learns he’s amazing at DnD but please, we also need the reverse because there’s really something so homoerotic about the rituals we have for men to touch other men. 😂

I’ll probably refine this a little more and throw it up on my Ao3 in the morning, if you wanna read it there. In the mean time thank you so much for reading. Ok I love you buh-bye. 💕

*edit: since I finished this at like 3 am I didn’t really give it a thorough read through for spelling and grammar errors. Little bits have been edited. Hope this makes it read a little better! 

[lilsispro]

Idk if people made W2H OCs cuz everywhere i look there like not there except for DeviantArt and 1 tumbler post (which omg I LOVE THEIR OC!! AAA SUCH A COOL CONCEPT! It was a post by @cactusdraw) which actually suprised me how little of OC are in this fandom considering the fact that it was ard the time everyone crazed abt making OCs to put into their fandom (COUGH COUGH ME COUGH COUGH.) Sooo, i figured that uhhhh i would post my OC i made a year ago that i never had the confidence to show to anyone except for my friends, they said it was a good idea to post it! That was in May- now its October 😭, so ive FINALLY built the courage to post it after 5ish months of thinking abt it, i bring to u..

Burger

Yes yes yes ik goofy name, but i like it :3 (random note but, i hate how big i drew her neck 😭 i remember trying to fix it but it looked werid so i just left it 😭)

Alright, now for lore drop for her ig!

Burger was a 16-17 year old attending Black Sheep high school, (think thats the high schools canon name-) one day she was found dead, she then went to heaven, not to long after became a fallen angel and was sent down to hell (idk if fallen angels exist- i need to ask Erica but i know shes busy but i really wanna ask in her message box in her blog 😭.) Then you know got a job to haunt people to get people down there so when hell is fully renovated it can go as one would expect.

Very basic very simple, but thats not really detailed, heres ghe detailed version bellow here instead of the basic structure: (Warning mentions of abuse, violent acts, and underage drinking)

Burger grew up in a not so stable household to say, parents were restricting, abusive, unfair, all the bad lables for crappy parents who basically to say failed at their job as a parent. So she mainly grew alone in her room learning guitar (base), and how to cook for herself and bake. She joined a band thats known around school for being cheap and decent. She also had a crush on a former band mate named Hidey. Since their band is known they have some form of social reputation around there, say in the middle of the social status of the school reputation system. One faithful day they got a commission to play at Zacks GFs party (im gonna assume he has one since hes a jock) for a few hours, they accepted. When Burger got home that day she went to go head out but then had a argument with her dad and got her guitar smashed. She ran out the house mad asf and used a near by phone booth to call her friend to get a spare guitar for her, they get the guitar and hwad to the party. They perform a few songs, everyone's happy, they get offered to stay so thru do so they dont seem rude. As Burger partied, Zacks GF dragged her to her room to speak privately, they get in the room, have a few drinks of wine after raiding the liquor cabinet a while back in the party, Zacks GF started to act a little of and before burger could say anything abt it, she gets pinned down onto the bed and gets her head slashed off. Turns out, Zacks GF had red punch looking similar to wine while she had wine,and also turns out Zacks GF hated her guts for one reason. A middle school crush on Zack. The most stupidest reason to have a grudge or kill someone over. So then she got to heaven and got a job as a guardian angel, sucked at that not even showing up to her job and instead did sinful like acts in heaven without knowing and got sent to hell becoming a fallen angel and getting a job to haunt a girl named Maria (which my friends OC) and drive her to suicide.

SO MUCH WORD OMG! But thats the detailish version of it! Maria is my friends OC like i said, she told me i could put her in so yeah. Also they dont have the best bond, simialr to socks and jons but instead of one being a joyful teasing demon, burger is a sarcastic ass, and Maria is a depressed teenager that annoyed by her demon. So basically Jonathan and Jonathan. They have some sentimental moments (AND GAY ASS MOMENTS) where they get a little connection to each other. Burgers has 2 canon connections to 2 canon characters, one with jon which is just rivals and same with sock. She basically hates their guts and constantly tries to persuaded Maria to mess with jon but failes horribly. Essentially shes a mix of Jon, Jojo, and sock in th slightest ways with the simialr characteristics/traits and the general way of acting.

Omg thats so much words i feel so bad for writing this much but ima end it off here! Also, other drawings of her

I wanna start drawing her again cuz i got the idea to put her ina a heather chandeliers costume for fun but i cant draw her hair the same way i did a while back. If i find the original drawing of her ill edit the post and pu it in! For now cya!!!

[wazzappp]

I drew. a lot for this. Also heads up for non RE mutuals this is going to be. confusing for you. I'm going to do my best to annotate and provide context but you are in for a wild ride.

Anyway long ass lore post for how Lisa and Robbie go from fighting to working together in this AU.

In the RE8 cannon all of the Dimitrescu daughters are made at the same time but for the sake of ✨the situations✨ I am going to change that. Lisa lived the longest as a human before being assimilated into the mold with a Cadou (infecting extension of the Megamycite). Technically her 'sisters' are older than her, as they were assimilated a while ago. Lisa has been a member of house Dimitrescu for about 2 years now. This puts her in this. Weird middle child zone. She wants to make her 'family' proud but she's also aware that what makes them proud isn't really the most achievable thing in the world (expecially with Bela to contend with. Older sibling overachiever to the maximum). She's got a certain degree of distance from them and sometimes wonders if she wasn't better off before all of this. Her memories are fuzzy but still there for the most part. She cant remember faces or names but she remembers feelings and situations. She doesen't remember families being like this (she wants OUT).

Chasing prey brought in is fairly standard for her. It's some of the only entertainment she gets. So when she catches Robbie exploring around the castle she has no idea that he's special in any way. He's just some new guy she gets to mess with before eating and DAMN he's FUN. If she didn't know any better she could almost think that he has experience being chased around (he does. he very much so does. all of RE7's worth). What she ALSO doesn't know is that Mother Miranda (big bad. Different from Lady Dimitrescu, who she refers to as 'mother') is planning on using Gabe (who is replacing baby Rose in this) to try and resurrect her dead kid with a 'perfect vessel' and this requires. uh. disassembly (in the base RE8 gameplay the reason Ethan goes to each house is because uhhhhhhhh his infant daughter has been dismembered and stored in jars and he needs to collect them so he can put her back together.... yeah). Robbie intervenes before this can get going and is instead going house to house because if he wants to get out of this stupid fuckass villiage he needs to collect the key components to unlock the gate keeping him in here (i need him to have a reason. to kill everyone. its important to me ok).

When Lisa finds out this random, but fun guy, she's been chasing who she thought was JUST SOME NORMAL GUY killed one of her sisters she mentally goes 'Oh. OH. THERES A CHANCE FOR ME TO GET OUT OF HERE'. That in conjunction with discovering Mother Miranda is planning on FULLY DISMEMBERING A CHILD she uh. Makes some decisions.

What you have to understand about her plans of matricide is that neither Lady Dimitrescu or her sisters can actually really fully die. Sure, their bodies are gone, but their consciousness is stored in the hive mind and they can reform later after gathering their strength. If she has to put her kinda shitty found family in time out for the sake of getting herself out of here + keeping her newly revived conscience clean she's absolutely going to do it.

(fuckin. backgrounds. dialogue. fuck. why can things not just take place inside of the void. DUKE MY BELOVED WE LOVE AND RESPECT DUKE IN THIS HOUSE HES A REAL ONE fuck now I got it in my head that he keeps trying to play matchmaker for them and i need to. go draw that because its too funny not to.)

Lisas plan involves this lab I had her mention in the comic above. It's where Robbie needs to go to synthesize more poison for the dagger of deaths flowers, and SUPPOSEDLY where a medicine that might allow her to go outside again might be (enemies of Lisas type become SIGNIFICANTLY weaker in the cold. She could try to bundle up but its still really not a good idea). She would love to go there herself, but it's in an area of the castle thats exposed to the cold of the outdoors.

The Two of them make a fairly decent team and Lisa finds herself having a LOT more fun hunting with someone else than she does on her own. They balance each other out pretty well; Robbie works primarily with guns so he can watch Lisas back while she's up close wrecking any grunts they run into. It's also pretty helpful having someone who can turn into a swarm of flies for puzzle solving purposes.

After all this Robbies trust for her increases SIGNIFICANTLY. He's still not really sure about her, but she's moved out of the 'active threat' classification into the 'kinda helpful' zone.

Lisa's plan has three ways it could go:

They all fail miserably and get sent to mental and physical time out in the megamycite.

They win and get to go free but either the medicine isn't there or it doesen't work. In which case she's just planning on getting as many coats as possible and Try-or-Die-ing it.

The medicine is there and she actually gets to roam free

Luckily for her, the medicine IS there, it DOES work, and Robbies sense of honor / noticing her usefulness (its hard to wage a one man war on an entire community of mutants ok you cant blame him for appreciating having some ACTUAL HELP for once) all align for the best possible scenario.

The cold does still affect her; her healing isn't as quick as it usually is and her increased strength / speed is a bit reduced, but she can go!! outside!!

She decided to stick with Robbie in getting out of the village as a whole. She doesen't really know what the world outside is like but anything has to be better than here (plus if she stays here she's probably getting shoved into the Megamycite by Mother Miranda PERMENANTLY and that just. wont do).

Also yes Lisa being with Robbie for the rest of his adventures means that she is there for Heisenbergs 'proposal'. She uh. Does not like that much.

this all made. more sense in my head I hope it at least makes a little sense out loud.

[kizashige]

I have recently gotten into Persona 4, and I luckily remembered you also really liked souyo back in 2019. However I cannot find any of your souyo fanarts, so I wanted to ask if you have any of those works achieved somewhere?

When I was very into Corpse Party I was utterly enchanted by your kizashige fanart, and I believe we have had hours long conversations about those two a while ago. I was wondering if you had similar complex and well developed thoughts about Yu and Yosuke’s relationship as well?

Thank you! :)

ah most of my old p4 art is on another blog but whatever I posted was maybe just 1% of what I actually ever drew. persona 4 was my last big interest, I got into it in 2016 so I was really obsessed with it for a long time, but I didn't post my art much back then (and it's so old, I wouldn't feel comfortable doing that now).

however last year, I was part of a souyo zine but I never posted my piece. this would be the first time I'm showing this off

I still love persona 4. it remains one of my favorite games of all time and was definitely a major influence towards my current taste.

I think about this often, but one thing that p4 really influenced me now with corpse party is that I've always focused on the metaphorical aspect of the darkening first, that it twists a character's desires rather than it being a completely literal corruption. it's a similar mechanic as the shadows throughout the persona series. shadows in persona are uncomfortable, contorted representations of a person's psyche, that aren't entirely true. the darkening is just as ugly and awful and confusing. it's all about symbolism.

another thing is that I focus a lot on the societal aspects in kizami and morishige's characters, how being neurodivergent and just * being different * affects them in their everyday social life, which is also a very present theme throughout persona. like, yeah, they're fun characters because they're gorehounds, but that's not The Thing that got me attached to them in the first place. I often wonder if I hadn't been into p4 before, if I would have read their characters very, very differently.

ANYWAYS, when it comes to yu and yosuke's relationship, I also had very particular ideas of their characters and dynamic to where I was quite miserable being in the fandom. you've given me the opportunity to rant about this, so as someone who was obsessed with souyo for almost four years straight, I basically hated yu and yosuke's characterization in fandom.

people who hate yosuke, whatever, but people who thought yosuke was just a happy-go-lucky, bubbly idiot who always needed yu to scold him for being homophobic pissed me off so much. souyo fans are basically incapable of addressing yosuke's internalized homophobia in any meaningful way because all they do is make yu their mouthpiece for times where they themselves wanted to scold yosuke while playing the game, thus so much fanwork comes across more as just self inserting rather than writing yu as an actual character with his own personality where he can be just as immature and dumb, even in his own dialogue options. I guess this is just the nature of working with a silent protagonist, but I hated it so much. clearly, I still do.

I related to yosuke a lot as many other people did, but I was a BIG fan of shadow yosuke and cared a lot on what that guy meant for yosuke's overall character. yosuke is so often reduced to his homophobia, that many people miss out on his general issues with wanting to be special and to stand out, and how this makes him a very clear parallel to adachi. I think yu is a parallel to adachi mostly through their narrative roles as protagonist and antagonist and through such symbolism, but the parallels between yosuke and adachi go beyond just that and to the core of their personalities and backgrounds and that always made me crazy.

adachi and yosuke both suffer from constant boredom, masking, resenting everything around them, and feeling so unfulfilled in life. the difference is that yosuke was able to make real friends, instead of becoming obsessed with his own ineptitude and pessimism like adachi did.

and that really, really got to me about yosuke's character. I loved how much he hated everyone and everything around him, I loved that he was basically living his life aimlessly, that he was trying so hard to find some purpose, that he always made mistakes and fucked up and would act out by being an asshole either intentionally or unintentionally. his homophobia was only * one * part of that.

I don't have as much to say about yu individually, but my interpretation of him was always that loneliness was a major part of his character. his implied backstory of always moving around and having neglectful parents leading him to being very apathetic to most people as a result, only to then be terrified of letting go once he finally found people he belongs with. I was obsessed with how the anime ran with his abandonment issues, how he kept everyone in a timeloop because he didn't want to be alone again.

basically, I always saw yosuke as someone who was pissed off deep down and wanted an escape through the tv world, and that yu was someone who wanted to belong somewhere so much, that it scared him. that they were two lonely, socially inept, fumbling teenagers who wanted to mean something to someone. I thought they were obsessed with each other.

I've said a lot and I could probably say more, but this was definitely an interesting ask as yu and yosuke have sort of just been in the background for me these past few years. I think whatever I wanted out of souyo I saw in kizashige a lot as well, which is funny because to an outsider, they're incredibly different ships. this tweet says it all though.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 14

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings: It's fite nite y'all.

A/N: Dividers by meeee. Also, to celebrate the end of Act 1, this is a two-part drop. I will work as fast as I can to ensure the post is up to snuff, but if you cannot click the link to Chapter 15 at the bottom, try refreshing the page or looking at the series masterlist!

series masterlist

chapter 14: pre-game

Osha tied off the apron around her waist and did a few ankle stretches to prepare for her short shift at the bar. She was about to call it good and clock in a few minutes early when Medora entered the break room.

“Hiii Osha!” she sang, bubbly as ever. She’d been on every shift Osha had so far and had shown her the ropes a little better than Kana had. Anything you need, I’ve got you. It’s quite the boy’s club down here and up there, so we gotta stick together and look out for one another.

“Hi, Medora,” Osha said, enraptured by her coworker’s chaotic entrance. Medora spilled the contents of her purse across the table and pored over it while she spoke.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here; thought you’d be part of the crowd.” She briefly abandoned her search to hang up her jacket. “Alright, where the crap is it…”

“No, Kana tempted me with that double time.”

“Always does—HA!” She held a tube of lipgloss aloft in victory. “Thank god, I spent all day worried.”

“What’s that?”

“My secret weapon. Pretty servers get pretty tips.”

“That seems…” Terrible. Misogynistic. Probably true. “Logical.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s awful, but I like money.” Medora juggled a few cosmetics in one hand as she held up a small mirror in the other. Osha caught her eye in the tiny reflection, and Medora gave a once-over. “You look nice. I’m assuming you aren’t dolled up for cash tips?”

Osha flustered. “Oh, uh. I’ve been trying to wear more makeup. In general. You know. Tips.” But that wasn’t the real reason. After dance night, and then after she’d left some on his coffee cup (This for me? Yeah, that’s for me.), Osha fully believed in the power of wearing lipstick around Qimir. Perhaps wishful thinking got her into this mess, but the compliment from Medora made her feel less… silly.

“Well, regardless of who you’re dressing up for, that color looks amazing on you.”

“I’m not—”

“You can dress up for yourself, you know.” She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I do it all the time.” She winked at Osha. “In fact, I’m doing it right now.”

Osha smiled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She took another seat and watched Medora work while she chattered about her day.

It reminded Osha of her mama, many many years ago. Every few mornings, she would take the time to sit at her vanity and painstakingly twist each loc and braid into a new intricate hairstyle that suited her fancy.

She knew, in retrospect, that this time was a precious commodity to her mother—just a few minutes of quiet that Osha tried her best to preserve, though her sister did not seem to notice. Mae had asked a million questions—about the process, about the history of the styles, about any and everything. But her mama was always happy to be around her daughters, answering each question with patience and respect. She also made sure to smile at Osha, reminding her that she remembered she was there.

It was rare, after losing her, to be remembered at all when she was quiet.

“Would you—um.” Osha hated this. She hated vulnerability, especially around people she hardly knew.

“What’s up?” Medora drew her riot of curly hair back into a high ponytail, then let it back down when it didn’t please her.

“My sister and I didn’t really grow up around—well, we lost our—she was actually kind of popular at school so she—I have no idea what I’m doing, really.” She was grateful Medora was the only one bearing witness to her idiocy. I could always leave town if this conversation blows up in my face. Start over. Live in the woods. Take a fake name. But first, one more shot at courage: “I never learned how to do any of that. We weren’t around many women who were dressed up.”

Medora just smiled. It filled Osha’s heart with something warm, like the memory of a Sunday morning in a place that no longer existed. “I got you,” Medora said.

Within a few giggling seconds, she had put Osha’s hair in a new style she was no longer hiding behind. This will show off your neck and cheeks—you have a beautiful smile, don’t keep it from the world. She went back and freed a few locs from her bangs—now this will make you alluring. And it’ll hide any eyeliner sins in a pinch. You have such beautiful hair. Just shake your hair a little and it’s like a baby with keys to anybody looking.

It was so simple in retrospect. So much impact, just out of reach because of all she’d lost. Medora clapped happily when Osha looked utterly stunned by the change. “You’re going to get tipped, baby!”

It was an incredible feeling. She’d had the same style since she was a child—easy to maintain, comfortable, familiar. Mae had grown her hair out a few times, but in recent years had gone back to matching Osha. It made the misidentifying in the gym a much more frequent occurrence.

Changing things up made her feel like an entirely different person.

Kana poked his head into the break room, holding a disgusting-looking bucket hat at his side. “What are you two giggling about?”

“You, of course.”

He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we’re doing the draw. Would you grab them for me, please?”

Medora began plucking the time cards out of their slots and handing them to Osha. She found the common thread: these were the time cards of those on shift tonight. When she left several behind, including Kana, Osha, and herself, Osha went to reach for them and was stopped.

“I grabbed all I need.”

“But yours and—”

“Oh, I don’t go in the draw. Neither do you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see.”

She led the way to the kitchens, where everyone circled around Kana and his stupid hat. He collected the time cards in the hat and shook them around. “Okay, hey! Shut up! Drumroll, please. Tonight’s tuh-ripple pay bouncer is…” He plucked a card from the rest. The impromptu clatter ceased. “Dante!”

The gathered mass responded with a mix of cheers and groans, reminding Osha of watching her first fight at Unknown Planet. As ever, this place baffled her as much as it made her smile.

Kana returned the timecards to Medora with a soft thanks before leaving for front-of-house. She explained what just happened as Osha helped put the cards back in their places.

“Here’s Eltara’s, you’re closer—have you guessed what all that was about?”

“Bouncer duty?”

“Yup.”

“Triple pay?”

“Yup.”

Osha slid the card into a slot neatly labeled ELTARA LOHARNE. “Why’d you leave some behind? I thought Kana would be in it, at least.”

“Kana got the honors last month. Your name stays in the hat until you get picked, and after that, it stays out of the hat until everyone’s gone once. Then they’re all put back in again. Triple time has the capacity to wreak havoc on workplace relations.” She scribbled a little red star in the corner of Dante’s time card, then pointed out the same mark on Kana’s. “So we don’t mix ‘em up.”

“But my name didn’t go in.” Did they think Osha couldn’t do it?

“You haven’t won a fight in the cage… yet. Once you do, you’re in.”

Osha hoped that once she won a fight, she would be in every fight night after, like Qimir. But she hadn’t gone up against anybody for years now, and there was no telling if she’d even win that first match.

“That might be a while,” Osha sighed. “He seems to be overly cautious with my training.” She tapped Qimir’s slot, sitting just above hers. He’d gotten a normal label, Q LOHARNE. Kana had thought putting an OSHA COMPLIANT sticker on hers instead was hilarious.

“I mean, you don’t gotta be nominated by Q. Kana would nominate you if you asked him. Anybody who saw that spar a few days ago would nominate you—that was badass.”

“You saw that?” Osha cringed a little.

“Hell yeah, I did!” Medora laughed and finished her stack of cards. “I’d be so jazzed if I saw you on bouncer duty. I’d just sit and wait for you to toss some huge idiot down the stairs.”

“Thank you?”

“But it’s not just about capability. It’s about respect. If you have a win, especially an uncontested win, gen-pop will listen. The more wins under your belt, the more clout you collect, the less of a hard time they’ll give you. It’s math.”

Osha noticed there was no red star on Medora’s timecard.

“Why aren’t you in the pool?”

Medora’s smile was sad, a faraway quality to her eyes. “I train, but I don’t want to fight. Not every Loharne is made for the cage.”

Qimir had said there were Loharnes all over the city—orphaned children that carried the name into maturity. Nearly half of all the names on the rack were Loharnes—Q and Kana, who were already known to her, but seeing MEDORA LOHARNE near the bottom was a bit of a surprise, given that she wasn’t as reserved in her emotions as Qimir and Kana sometimes were. Osha remembered being numb to most of her feelings for the first year following her mothers’ deaths. Some days, she didn’t think she’d grow out of it.

“I understand that,” Osha said softly. “But I don’t even know why I’m disappointed. I’m sure it’ll be ages before I’m ready.”

“Only you can decide when you’re ready to face something. Having someone you trust to back you up when you do decide is encouraging, though.”

That was news. “Huh?”

“The nomination system.” Medora tucked a few things in the pockets of her apron. “Depends how you look at it, I guess. Take the heart out of it, and it’s just like… co-signing on a loan. At first, it was almost an indemnity clause, considering what it took to implement the system in the first place. That was a bit of a nightmare—the whole Lance thing.” Her face went a little stony at the mention.

“Lance?”

Medora quirked her head to the side. “The guy who attacked Idise ten years ago? I’m surprised Q hasn’t told you. It was and—well, still is big news here.”

“Oh!” Osha flustered. “I—he told me about it, I just didn’t know the guy’s name.” Even so, she didn’t know there was so much gossip she was missing out on.

“Yeah. Like I said. Nightmare. But anyway, if you’re a romantic, the nomination thing is so swoon-worthy. Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship with someone at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection. Then they say you’re ready. Not only that, but they’re ready—to tie their reputation to yours when you get in the ring. Maybe I’ve just read too many bodice-rippers, but where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a marriage certificate?”

Osha tried her best not to walk straight into a wall, and failed. Medora didn’t comment, too wrapped up in her diatribe.

“Then again, the whole thing could be a comedy—in the way that comedy is just tragedy plus time. You do all that, you subscribe to the ideology, someone vouches for you—and then you get your shit rocked in a nomination match? Now that’s embarrassing. The person who vouched for you gets remembered for your fuckup. Until a new embarrassment takes your place, that is. See? Tragedy plus time equals comedy.”

Osha still couldn’t bring herself to laugh about it. But Medora certainly wasn’t joking.

Kana released her from her shift about ten minutes after the crowd went upstairs. She bypassed the public staircase (where Dante dutifully stood his post) and headed directly to the dressing rooms to change, knowing at least one fighter would let her in.

Her path brought her face to face with another person headed in the other direction. He was handsome, in an I-got-my-nose-job-from-a-fist kind of way. Osha didn’t recognize him, but Unknown Planet was an all-hours joint. They could have differing schedules.

He didn’t recognize her either, asking, “Are you and I fighting tonight?” He gave her a slow once-over. He was about three times her size, but Medora’s enthusiastic vision of Osha tossing some huge idiot down a flight of stairs kept her from feeling intimidated or creeped out. She took no offense, knowing the brash culture of Unknown Planet was a fact of life. In some ways, she liked it.

She noticed the green balaclava in his hands. Brawler.

“Not tonight, buddy.”

“Aw, we’re buddies? I’d love to be friends, thank you.”

Osha laughed. Years of intensely repressed connection at the Temple had set her up for failure when it came to flirting (and, honestly, friendship), but Unknown Planet didn’t care for formality. In fact, they were at times brazen enough to hit on her in the brief seconds Qimir stepped away during their sessions. It was almost a game, how long can I flirt with Osha before her scary dog gets back and glares me to death. As superficial and vapid as it was, it made her feel wanted. Accepted. Welcomed.

And it drove Qimir insane when she engaged with it.

“Sure. Let’s be friends, Sour Patch.”

He looked delighted, but a new voice cut in with a razor’s edge—right on cue.

“Osha.”

Hello, my strange, scary dog.

Qimir stood on the upper landing of the stairs, looking more than ready to charge the man in front of her if she gave the signal.

“I was just headed up,” she assured him. She turned to the fighter before her. “I’ll just slip by you, thanks!”

Sour Patch let his hand brush her lower back, and she threw an exaggerated scowl over her shoulder. “See you around, buddy,” he said playfully, pocketing his mask and entering the gym level.

Qimir’s expression was overwhelmingly displeased when she arrived on the landing. “Are you alright? Did he try anything?”

He looked her over without trying to hide it, assessing her in hopes of finding the tiniest justification to pound Sour Patch into a fine paste.

“Of course I’m alright. He’s harmless.”

��He’s a brawler.”

“You’re a brawler.”

He pouted at the comparison.

“C’mon, I wanna change before the fights start.”

This time, when a hand came to rest on her lower back, she didn’t scowl. At the zing of sensation that rippled up her spine, Osha stood up straighter, preening at the attention. Qimir walked side by side with her, holding his ground even as other masquerade fighters were made to squeeze against the wall as they passed by. Like schools of fish yielding to a great white shark.

Beyond the black door, everything quieted. The usual pulse of we’re alone bled through her awareness as it always did when the world was shut away from them. Instead of getting caught in the moment, she did what she came here to do—change her clothes.

“How was your first shift?” Qimir asked.

She unbuttoned her black blouse, fighting the demons telling her to go out in the dressing room and do this. “It was fine.”

“I’m glad.” She could hear him fiddling with KT tape in the other room, the plasticky slide of release film dropping in a familiar pattern as he smoothed tape over his thumb, his—

She remembered, once, coming back from the showers at the pool to find him lined up in front of the mirror in the studio, shorts tugged way high one hip as he smoothed two lengths of gray tape from his inner thigh up to the crease of his hip. Hip flexor acting up, he’d said. Osha hadn’t been able to think straight through her whole cooldown.

She wondered if it was acting up tonight.

“N-nearly ran out of pockets for tips.”

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. Pretty servers get pretty tips, Medora had said. Osha tried not to read so deeply into three words as to pull a compliment out of thin air. It felt so incredibly silly of her to think, but there was still a small voice in her head asking does he think I’m pretty?

They chatted a little more, but there was an undertone in his voice that harkened back to when he picked her up earlier that evening.

Is everything alright?

When she saw him in the parking lot, she was hit by a wave of tension. Everything Indara told her that afternoon weighed her down and almost froze her feet in place. Crimes. Private investigator. Gangs. She wanted to tell him what was going on, wanted to do anything to let him know her sympathies had deepened, strengthened from a current to a riptide.

I can tell something’s the matter.

It wasn’t like Osha was in the practice of hiding her emotions from him. Sometimes, he knew her moods better than she did. But this time, she’d been very aware of her anxiety.

We don’t have time to get into it, but trust that I’ll be okay, Qimir.

He’d left it at that, but had been a little quiet during the drive to the bar.

And now he seemed to want to ask again.

“I got to witness the bouncer draw,” she said lamely.

She knew Qimir would never ambush her in here, but even in the relative privacy the bathroom provided, she felt like someone—something—was watching her.

Her voice trailed off from what she was saying when she noticed the Smiley mask draped on the little sink. Without him wearing it, the mask felt a little more sinister. A memory whispered why.

We wear masks and take fake names to prevent the guilt from killing us. Beneath the mask… There is no honor or glory in winning that mask. And the only people who know that are the ones who win it, the ones who have to wear the mask.

She didn’t know what came over her when she reached out to touch it for the first time. She ran a fingertip over the embroidered silver teeth that slashed through the black. Some were jagged and broken, some were whole. Some were over large, others miniscule and precise. It was an uncanny grin, more teeth than should be there—stretching almost ear-to-ear.

She discovered that there was more hiding in the dark fabric than she thought: parts of the material which had been frayed or ripped in the past were stitched back together in a patchwork manner she hadn’t been able to see before. She looked closer at one of the gnarled lines of black thread on the back of the hood, stretching almost ornamentally from one side to the other, in a thick snarl that resembled a familiar scar—

“Try it on.”

Osha yelped, jumping out of her skin.

“Fucking shit, Qimir!” she yelled. “What?”

He looked deeply amused by her antics, leaning on one side of the doorframe. “You should try it on,” he repeated calmly.

She frowned down at the mask clutched in her fist. “Are you trying to give me conjunctivitis or something?”

“Do I look like I have pink eye?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

The little eye-holes stared back at her from her hands, and she had to admit, she was tempted.

“Can you even see in this?” she asked.

“Not really. None of us can. It’s like a sensory deprivation experience.”

“What’s the point of that?” she scoffed. “Seems counterintuitive—the most exciting fight of the night, the eight wildest fighters, and they’re all blinded.”

“If we could see each other perfectly, the fight would be over too quickly. Like this, it’s just you…” he shuffled closer, trapping her against the sink while looking down at the mask in her hands. “And what you bring with you.”

She attempted to dodge out of the verbal corner he’d backed her into. The physical corner, however, she made no attempt to leave. “Someone told me you never let a fight get over eight minutes in the cage.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think about that when I’m in there, wearing that.”

“What do you think about, then?”

“Try it on and find out.” That was the third time he’d told her to.

“Fine.” She turned to the mirror, making sure to be careful with Medora’s efforts as she pulled the mask over her head. To her surprise, the mask wasn’t scratchy or unpleasant. It hugged every part of her face, none of the fabric sagging or bunching up uncomfortably. It took her some finagling to get the eyes in the right spot, but when she looked up at her reflection…

She’d seen her face more than most. Mirrors were one thing, but when another person wore the same face as you, it made you more aware of how you looked.

Her eyes looked different in the mask. Accepting that the person staring back at her was herself felt like swallowing a hot stone. It was intense and it was strange, but the longer she held her own gaze, the more she understood why the other fighters felt capable of violence. Behind such flimsy anonymity, consequences seemed far away.

Turning her head this way and that, she tested the peripheral vision afforded to her. There was very, very little.

“Yeah, you’re right, I can’t see sh—oh.” She made to turn around, but came in contact with an immovable wall at her back.

Qimir looked utterly enchanted by the sight of her in his mask, eyes going between her reflection and what was before him. One of his hands caged her against the small sink, and the other went up to hold her chin, moving her this way and that. The silver embroidery caught and fled from the light like fish scales in a river. One tooth would disappear as she turned her head left, only to reappear when she turned back. His thumb brushed over the edge of the smile, just below her cheekbone.

She wondered if he could feel the heat in her face as easily as she felt the heat in his hands.

“When I fight,” he said softly, hypnotized, “I use all senses available to me. My eyes aren’t the best on their own, but your eyes can deceive you. We must not trust them.” Osha felt a curl of unease twist around the curl of desire strengthening in her core. She knew that line, she’d heard it before—“To become so reliant on what you can see will betray you when what you didn’t see becomes the real danger.”

His hand came around to cover her mouth, pausing a moment as he hid the smile from view before he dragged his fingers back across every inch of that smile. “I can tell where they are just by breathing. Fear has a taste, a scent, and they all fear me.”

It tickled as he brushed a thumb over her ear, the fabric making a soft, crushing noise against it that made her shiver. “I listen for them, through the screams of the crowd. Some breathe so loud I could hit them in the dark.”

His hand moved back to cover her mouth, then drifted downward, over her chin and under her jaw to wrap lightly around her neck—then he rested his hand over her pounding heart. “Another reason to control your breathing—to hide from me.”

She almost moaned as his hand brushed the side of her breast on its way to take her hand, moving it to press against her belly. He brought his lips down beside her ear. “The sense of feeling is tied closely to intuition. You have to know your body and its impulses in order to feel where things are in relation to you. When you understand the signals your body gives you, it will tell you everything you need to know.” He paused to ensure her eyes were on his.

They looked almost obscene like this in the mirror, his body curled around hers, trapping her like prey. “Especially the pain,” he whispered, lips drifting to where the mask ended in the crook of her neck. “The pain tells you how to survive, if you listen to it. If you feel it, if you taste it.”

The white-hot slide of his tongue over Osha’s bare shoulder pulled a weak whimper from her, and just as quickly as it had come, he left, lifting his head again and drawing backwards. His parting words were, “I don’t think about anything when I wear this. I feel everything.”

He let go of her, leaving her slightly sagging against the sink. Looking over her shoulder at him, his expression told her he would not apologize for invading her space like that, for touching her so—so… possessively. Tonight, he was at his rawest self, primal in a way few men could truly become.

He wanted her, no doubt about it. And she wanted him, but… first, a touch of shyness. 

She broke his gaze to peel off the mask, fixing her hair as she chattered through her nerves. She noticed him sliding the mask off the sink, pocketing it without a word. “I bet my first time in the ring, I’ll just black out and forget everything you ever taught me.”

He smiled slowly when he met her eyes again, content as a cat in a sunbeam. “I’ll make sure your first time is—”

The rabble in the gym crept to an unignorable volume beyond the dressing room. Osha looked in the direction of the noise, heart in her throat. Qimir looked like he really wanted to finish speaking, but she asked, “Do you wanna go watch? You could… talk strategy with me? Or talk shit?”

She saw him stuff down whatever the feral animal in him wanted to do, punctuated by a smile. “You have a point. After all, you’ll be in the one-on-ones before you get invited to the masquerade.”

“Oh my god I think I just got the joke.”

“What joke?” he said.

“The masquerade brawl that ends at midnight? And you need to have an invitation to dance?”

“We’re not dancing in there—”

“It’s a turn of phrase, oh my god. Let’s go.”

The balcony was surprisingly sturdy—nothing rattled or shook beneath their feet as they strutted past the other masquerade fighters watching the current match.

It was difficult to understand what was going on until Qimir explained to her: the two men fighting were tasked with repeatedly throwing one another onto the mat using the exact same form every time. Qimir had her answers ready before she even asked a question.

“Decision-determined matches are rare here. They aren’t run or scored like what you’re used to.”

“Who are the judges?” she asked, peering into the crowd for any sign of an officiant’s table. “Where are the judges?”

Qimir pointed to a dark, mirrored window set in the brick wall on the opposite side. She’d never noticed it before, but now the gaze of the black, gaping maw on high seemed inescapable. “I’m sure you have questions about the organizers, but not even I have those answers.”

“The match organizers are also the fight judges?”

He shrugged as if saying, why shouldn’t they be? “This fight is an endurance test. Keep your form perfect for every throw, and hopefully, you outlast your opponent.”

“Sounds like it would go on forever.”

“You think you could perfectly throw a 200-pound guy over your shoulder the same way with the same force, forever? After also being slammed to the mat ten seconds prior?”

Thwack! One of the fighters shook their head in a daze. The one who just threw them down helped them up.

Qimir had a point. Damn it. She hated it when he had a point. “Fine. Just seems boring.”

“It’s one of the more impressive feats of strength. This is similar to my nomination match.���

“How long ago was that?”

“It’ll be… 10 years next month, on the new moon.” That’s more than a hundred fight nights. How many has he—

Thwack! Groan. Stand up. Cheer.

As the other fighter prepared to throw again, Osha nudged his shoulder with hers. “Who nominated you?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, and though he went still and didn’t look away from the fight, she could tell he wasn’t really looking at it. “Idise.”

Back when it started, I heard people talk about how it represented this culmination of a relationship at the gym—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special connection.

Acidic jealousy burned in Osha’s mouth. It was ten years ago. Chill.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other that long.”

“She’s known me since before I joined.”

Where else do you sign your name next to someone like that but a—

“Dang. Long time.”

The conversation lulled a little, and Osha tried not to feel like the fighter getting slammed into the mat. She had to get a fucking grip. “Well, the point is to win the match, so how do I win? If I was in the ring, right now, how do I win?” she babbled.

He watched another few throws before shaking off his fugue to speak. He pointed out flaws in their stances—they were actually losing energy just from standing still. From that point, he talked about kinetic momentum and adrenaline-fueled motion. “If you let yourself walk around even a few steps between throws, your heart rate will be in the perfect place to remain focused and physically ready—mustering your energy from baseline each time kills your stamina.”

It wasn’t what she expected to hear. She’d expected him to say something about finding an opponent’s weakness and drilling down into it every time. To treat every round like it was the last round. But, she realized with a jolt, that was just how the Temple trained them.

Qimir’s advice, by comparison, urged her to stay in the moment and ground herself in reality, not imagine herself at the finish line. There is no finish line. There’s just the road in front of you.

Another few fights passed before Osha recognized an event from last month: two opponents and one knife dropped between them like a hockey puck. 

“Crowds love this one,” Qimir chuckled. “Shit, I love this one.” He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “What would you do?”

“I don’t even know how to hold a knife. I couldn’t give a right answer if I wanted to.”

“I wasn’t asking you so you’d tell me the right answer. I know you don’t have any weapons training—but you’re still a fighter, Osha. You’re allowed to weigh in on things you don’t know about—more than that, I want you to. It’s one of the most effective ways we learn. By guessing.”

“You mean you want me to fuck around and find out.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Osha hummed and leaned her arms on the railing to peer closer at the intense exchange. The fighter without the knife had both hands free to pull the other fighter into a complicated kneeling grapple.

“Well… from one perspective, getting to the knife’s a speed contest, so you’d have to know something about your opponent’s footwork relative to your own. Are you faster, or are you not?”

He hummed, encouraging her to go on. She paused as the armed fighter lost his grip, sending the knife skittering toward the fence. 

“You could just ignore the weapon entirely,” she mused. “Draw blood another way.”

“The rules state that if there’s a weapon in the cage and victory is decided by first blood, the blood must be drawn by that weapon.”

Hm. She watched the pair scramble for the knife, as if hearing Qimir’s input from on high.

“Well. Uh. Another perspective is…” the same fighter from before took control of the knife. “Knowing someone’s strengths as well as their weaknesses.”

“You intend to spy on your opponents before their matches?” he said dryly.

“No, I mean—shut up.” She grumbled and pouted. “If it was me in there against you, you would know I would be more harm to myself if I had the knife in my hands. I could defeat myself for you.”

“Believe it or not, the organizers won’t put a weapon in your hands that you’re not familiar with. Nor would they put you up against someone that surpasses your ability enough to make you seem like a novice. The fights are balanced, so it’s a challenge to win, but not impossible.”

That complicated things. “But I’m right. You can still turn someone’s perceived strength into a weakness to get them to bleed.”

“Everybody has a weakness,” he ceded. “But seeing opponents as a stack of strengths and weaknesses holding a knife doesn’t change the fact that they can still hurt you. What did I say about fear and danger?”

“Denying your fear doesn’t erase the danger. It only makes it harder to survive.”

“Good girl. Now watch—”

How could she, when he spoke to her like that so casually?

He gave her a play-by-play from his point of view. “And that’s a victory right there.”

“What? The fight’s not over.”

“Believe in the power of the armbar.”

The unarmed fighter had pulled the other into a hold, the knife just inches from his face. The grappled fighter tried to twirl the knife in his trapped hand, blade flashing in the light. But the other moved quickly, squeezing his wrist and jerking his whole body to get him to jab himself in the forearm.

The bell rang, and though it was too far for Osha to see it, the roar of the crowd signaled that first blood had been shed. She applauded, feeling like a guest at the side of an emperor, watching gladiators bleed for his imperial amusement.

“The most important thing to remember in these match-ups is that battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. You have to choose to win before you ever step in the ring.”

“What’s that, a little bit of hard-earned violence-based wisdom?” she said teasingly.

“Walt Whitman.”

A startled, overly loud laugh escaped her, turning a few heads in their direction. Osha hid her face against his shoulder, trying to stifle her giggles but failing. She wasn’t entirely sure, but the gentle touch on her head felt like a kiss.

She certainly hoped it was.

“You don’t need to worry about what will happen before the match starts. Things can go a hundred thousand ways once the bell rings, and only some of them will go right—even fewer will go as planned.” He raised a hand to trace over her bare back, distracted by the cut of her shirt. It was similar to the one she’d worn to dance night, so his fascination felt warranted. He let his hand fall flat on the small of her back, a warm weight she could have purred at.

“You make it sound like someone with no training can enter the ring and win by a mile just by improvising.”

“Yes and no,” he shrugged. “If you recognize when the winds shift in each moment, you can make almost anything work to your advantage.” He turned to face her, his face gone a little serious. “I’m not training you to make you into a trophy machine, Osha. I’m training you to make the best decisions for any moment, but only when you choose to fight.”

It was surprisingly tender. The conviction in his posture spoke volumes to the degree he believed that. It was strange to see vulnerability in his eyes, especially after the heat in them from earlier. When she asked herself why he felt so strongly about her choice to fight, Indara’s voice rang in her head.

She only fostered him so she could take him to tournaments and competitions across the state.

Qimir was clearly about to ask what she was thinking, but a new (well, new-ish) voice interrupted him.

“There you are, buddy!”

Fuck.

Osha sighed, grimacing in a way she hoped could be misinterpreted as a smile. She turned away from the suddenly stone-faced Qimir. “Hey there, Sour Patch.”

“Watching the matches? Save some interest for the last one of the night, would ya?”

“Oh, I’ll try.”

Qimir was a block of ice behind her. His warmth, so reliable and steady, had chilled unexpectedly. The hand on her lower back curled into a fist around a handful of her shirt—there was no way he’d done that consciously. She’d seen Qimir get cold like this before when speaking to some of the other fighters in the gym, but never to this degree. It was plain to see it for what it was:

Possessiveness.

“So you’ve been to one of these before…”

Sour Patch did not, at all, take the rebuffs Osha threw back at him. The wall of silence behind her felt solid enough to—

Hm.

Just to make things interesting, she let herself lean against Qimir. The hand at her waist felt like a goddamn claw.

“No, I actually haven’t seen The Godfather. Haven’t had the inclination. Ever.”

The claw squeezed. She could imagine him whispering, attagirl.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely missing out. Why don’t you come over and we can—”

The creature behind her scoffed. She rested a hand on the claw, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles.

“I’m pretty on the hook for literally the rest of forever, sorry,” Osha told Sour Patch with an overly kind smile.

Perhaps the smile was too much, because he said, “So Wednesday night, are you free?”

Qimir inhaled like a bull about to charge, nearly disengaging his hold on her to engage his fist into the other guy’s face. Osha moved fast. Her hand shot out, patting the oblivious man’s bicep in an objectively condescending way. “Maybe if you win tonight,” she said, hiding her fangs behind a pretty smile.

Sour Patch lit up, and the beast behind her relaxed. His hand snaked around her middle, tracing a thumb over her piercing. He was oozing satisfaction. Sour Patch has no idea what he’s getting into.

“Well, get ready for a three-part marathon, then!” To her delight, Sour Patch turned around and walked away—probably for the best.

Qimir whirled Osha around like a goddamn top. He wore the same heated look from earlier when she tried on his mask. Heat flared in her core. Her eyes went to his mouth, where he bit his lower lip in consideration—or perhaps the last vestige of self-control. What thoughts hid behind those eyes?

“Maybe if he wins tonight?” he repeated slowly, an eyebrow rising with incredulity.

“I think it’s fair,” she said, heart racing. She couldn’t remember how to slow her pulse down—couldn’t remember even with a knife to her throat. His hands on her made it hard to think, let alone breathe.

“Fair,” he chuckled. “Did I give you the impression that I was a fair person?”

“Yes.”

His eyes flashed a little. It reminded her how a predator’s eyes would glow at night. “You should rethink that.”

“I won’t.”

His jaw flexed. “Last chance.”

“No.”

“And what if I win tonight?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to watch The Godfather with me so badly.”

“You’ve no idea the things I want to do with you, Osha. Nor how badly I want them.”

They were standing so close. The shouting and cheering of the crowd below went quiet under the thundering of her heart, and even the lights went a little sparkly and out of focu—

She needed to breathe.

Her ragged inhale sounded like she’d surfaced after nearly drowning. Felt like it, too. Qimir’s face flickered in surprise but melted into a much more pleased expression. “You should go down to the cage, Osha,” he purred.

“Why?”

Because he can’t control what he’ll do next if you stay.

He didn’t have to say it for her to know it.

It wasn’t a dismissal, but his command certainly dictated she should go. Before she did, Osha surged forward to wrap her arms around him. “Good luck.”

He stiffened, and Osha held him tighter. After a few seconds, he returned the embrace and thanked her quietly.

“You know, you need to work on that,” she said once they pulled away.

He chuckled. “What?”

“Receiving hugs.”

His eyes sparkled with good humor. “Well, I might need to find a trainer if that’s the case.”

“I dunno, my schedule could be booked.”

“To the rest of forever?” he teased.

She shrugged and turned to walk away.

“If I win tonight,” he said, catching her wrist. “Maybe I can get a free trial pass?” He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the world around them.

Osha wrapped her hand around his bicep, one finger at a time, before she squeezed, digging her nails in just as he’d held her in his claws. She didn’t stop there. She leaned in so her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, “Win first. Then we can discuss the spoils.”

She didn’t stick around to see the look in his eyes, but she could feel it long after she joined the crowd.

Kana found her in the crush of bodies.

“You are gonna get squished, girl,” he laughed. He escorted her closer to the cage and assumed the duties of an immovable human wall behind her.

“Thank you!” she said cheerfully.

They chatted a little between matches. “How’s training going? Q train you on any weapons yet?”

“Nah, not yet. We’ve only sparred a few times, but not at full strength or speed. I gotta say, though… those look fun.”

The fighters in the ring clashed their broadswords together in a shower of sparks that fired up the crowd. They wore full-cage helmets, half-plate armor, and steel gauntlets. This was the last fight before the finale, and the energy was palpable, the scent of blood and sweat permeating the air.

Kana laughed, big and booming. “I’m sure you’d kick ass regardless of familiarity with the weapon, and that’s a hill I’d kill anybody on.”

He had such a way with words.

“…thank you, Kana.”

“I also guarantee you’ll be invited to the brawl just because everyone wants to see what he’ll do.”

She frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what he’ll do when you and Idise get in front of him at the same time.”

“Idise?” she said hollowly.

—you spend so much time training with somebody that you form a special—

“Did he not tell you? Q and Idise are pretty close outside’a here.” Kana looked concerned at whatever Osha was doing with her face, but he continued. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else here, but she’s been with him through some hard shit. A few people think Q and Idise were seeing each other on and off for a few years.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think that they were together.”

She was trying to keep the jealousy snarling in her chest from leaping out her mouth. Osha had the urge to run back upstairs and leave a hundred purple kiss marks marking him as her—

“No. Q’s a lonely guy, and I think he prefers it like that. Him and Idise… I can’t tell for certain because they don’t really hang out, but I’m pretty sure whatever they got going on, it’s strictly on the platonic side. Things have been different recently.” He dared to wink at her, either willfully or unintentionally oblivious to her thunderous mood. “Since you came ‘round, and even before then.”

“Like what?” 

“Well. Few months back, this perfect storm starts brewing. Q dropped the fuck off the map the same time the fuckin’ Lance guy was let back in the gym.”

“Let back in?” she squawked. One of the swordfighters staggered back into the cage, rattling the whole circumference with the impact.

Kana nodded. “He said he was robbed of his nomination match and wanted a second chance to prove himself. Everyone here saw straight through that shit. Fucker just wanted to get back at Idise for embarrassing him. We all did our best to ignore him, and nobody said shit to his face, but shit was dicey; a lotta people questioned the PTB for allowing him back on the premises, let alone in the fights.

“But they did allow it. He signs up. His match night comes. He’s not fighting Idise, of course, but he wins. Q shows up in the last round after a month of silence and wins his eighth brawl in a row. Some people say they saw him talking with Idise later on, but he disappeared right after that. Bunch’a people started rumors about it.”

“What’d they say?”

“Well, someone asked Idise where he’d been, and she got all defensive about it, wouldn’t say. My guess is she didn’t know, and had gone to ask because she was worried about him. We all were.”

He’d been pretty wound-tight for a while, and it seemed like he needed that break two-ish months ago. We were all pretty worried when he took it so abruptly.

“Now, shit gets even dicier with the PTB. Not only do they invite Lance to the brawl, they invite Idise. Nobody’s heard from Q. Isn’t answering calls or texts. I don’t even think he replied to the invite email, don’t think he even looked at it. Lance and Idise avoid each other like the plague in the gym. And no, winning did not warm any of us to him.”

Osha jumped a little at the clang from a sword hitting a solid chest plate.

“Night comes. They call everyone in for the brawl, rah rah, Lance gets called—he was Dizzykid when it happened—it goes fucking silent in here. They call Idise in, coulda blown the fuckin roof off. Everybody expected Idise to go round two with this motherfucker, just put him back in his place same as before. I’d say ninety percent of the bets were on that. And do you know what happened when Smiley walked in?”

“What?” Osha said, mouth a bit dry. She wasn’t even pretending to look at the fight anymore.

“He looked at Idise in the cage and turned to Wise, asking, the fuck is she doing in here? Wise just smiled at him, then he pointed at Lance. Smiley asks again, what’s he doing here? And Wise just smiiiiles. Like he knew what was about to go down.”

Historically, those fighters are more likely to snap when provoked.

“—and let me tell you, it was brutal. The match starts, and within two minutes, Smiley is beating Lance’s face down to the first circle of hell. At the first drag-out, his work was done.

“Heard later that Q sent him to the hospital in the same condition Idise did ten years back—practically the same injuries. Did it in less than half the time it took her.”

Story ends with this guy getting sent to the hospital—all fucked up. Busted skull, broken wrists, nearly lost his eye…

“He disappeared again after that fight. I woulda too, if I left a guy looking like that.”

Not just entering the cage. The terrible things I’ve done to leave it.

“Is that why the yellow mask looks all…”

“Disgusting? Yeah. That thing was more red than yellow that night. They wash ‘em, but I doubt that stain will come out anytime soon. I thought they should just get a new one, but my influence ends at the top of the stairs, here.”

“What happened after?”

One of the swordsmen sent the other tumbling to the mat. The crowd roared as the downed fighter rolled left and right to avoid two-handed overhead strikes.

“Well, now that Lance was handled, everyone re-focused on where the hell Q went. Short of sending out Idise to go find him, we all tried to find out. But then… he just shows up one night, pretty girl in tow. Orders her hot soup and a hot toddy.” Kana winked at her just as the bell rang for the end of the match.

They applauded politely and spoke a little more freely now that they were in between matches. “That was the first anyone had seen of him outside the fights. Believe me, you were quite the gossip item. Especially when he started coming back to the gym, training again. Still wasn’t really talking to anybody, though.

“And then you showed up at the fights, and his whole deal changed when he started bringing you around. Follows you around like a puppy. Never seen him like that before.”

Osha could have sworn it was the other way around.

Before she could ask a single thing, a hush fell. The reverent silence that crashed over the crowd was the same as the one she felt a month ago. The masquerade is about to begin.

CHAPTER 15

[thefirstknife]

Alright the new Veil Log is so fucking insane. I am completely not normal right now. Personal video because DLV hasn't uploaded yet, transcript from me as well:

Chioma: Chioma Esi, research log: Lakshmi-2. Osiris: What?! Chioma: Maya's... I don't even know what to say. I'd recused myself from further experiments. Told her to take some time off. She refused. And she... the minute I wasn't there, she started hauling the braindead Exos out of cold storage. Hooking them up to the veil interface. She burned through dozens of them. Reversed the entire machine's design. Used a chorus of braindead Exos to funnel data down to the conductor seat, projecting a mental imprint. Hers. I... I didn't know Lakshmi-2, but Maya did. And now she's... she's made this thing. It speaks with her voice. Has some of her memories. The way it looks at me... It's like it knows something I don't. Nimbus: Osiris, do you recognise that name? "Lakshmi"? Osiris: Yes... and no. Lakshmi-2 was an Exo and once-leader of a faction on Earth known as the Future War Cult. She died over a year ago. But she never once made mention of any of this. Of Neomuna, of... Maya. Did she know? Did she remember? This is all as much of a revelation to me as it is to you. It throws everything she did while in the Last City into question. Nimbus: I mean, with... if she was a copy of Dr. Sundaresh, then... is she really dead? Osiris: I don't know. For now, I must deliver a rather uncomfortable report to Ikora.

I genuinely don't know where to begin. I am absolutely losing my mind about this to such a degree, this is personally my favourite reveal in the recent years in Destiny.

Lakshmi-2 is a copy of Maya Sundaresh. She was made by Maya, hooking up braindead Exos to the Veil and using the power to create a "mental imprint" of herself and implanting it into one of the braindead Exos, that of Lakshmi-2. Lakshmi's voice is Maya's voice and she had some of Maya's memories. Lakshmi is essentially a version of Maya, with a copy of Maya's consciousness made with the Veil.

Lakshmi-2 becoming a leader of the Future War Cult is just Maya going back to her roots; Maya MADE the FWC. Lakshmi's obsession with the Device and looking into it is just Maya's obsession with the Veil. I am so shocked right now because I've spoken about the possible connection between the FWC Device and the Veil in April. Before any of this new data. What the hell. I'm pretty sure this is how Maya heard herself name the Veil; by looking through the Veil, she could connect with her other consciousness. I initially thought it might be with her simulated selfes; that might still also be correct, but in this specific case she may have heard herself, as Lakshmi, while exploring the Device. In the post I linked above, I specifically drew the connection because of a lore tab from vanilla D1 which I noted is probably just some old stuff, but that there's a possibility this old stuff is deliberately being made relevant again:

At 11:33 she reported the sensation we have called "The Opening Of The Veil." The Device recorded temporal displacement of her consciousness to the order of six degrees.

This seemed just like something that may look like more than it is, but with the knowledge that Lakshmi-2 was on Earth, back in charge of the FWC and running more experiements... Yeah. This has to be relevant. It has to.

Lakshmi ofc never spoke of Neomuna so it's unclear if she had those memories or if maybe they were removed when she was sent to Earth. Also when did she come back to Earth? Had to have been early enough to experience the destruction of Old London. Possibly in a team with Stargazer when Stargazer went to Earth to delete the records of Neomuna?

Either way, I'm gonna be insane about this for a long time. So much potential here for so much stuff. Really interesting that Nimbus asked if she's really dead; what if we could interact with Maya again, somewhere, somehow? Her copies are everywhere, after all. Not just as Lakshmi and possibly more, but also her Vex copies.