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daddyjackfrost · 2 years

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Chapter 2: Hello, Again

╰┈➤ ❝ [stay with me ; morpheus ] ❞

morpheus x fem!reader

warnings: third person pov, 7k+ words (wtf), not a lot of morpheus in it (sorry), each break is a time jump, if u don’t like it don’t tell me i’ll cry. i obviously haven’t read the travels of marco polo… so

read chapter 3 here

stay with me ; masterlist

A light, summer breeze brushed against Y/n’s cheek, like a parent greeting a child for the first time.

Fluttering her eyes open, Y/n stared up at the bright blue sky. The grass beneath her was soft, a pillow of green scattered with bright flowers.

Pushing herself to sit up, Y/n took in the scenery before her. She laid in a beautiful clearing, one filled with flowers and tall grass. There was nothing beyond the field, not a tree or person in sight.

She was completely alone.

Breathing in the crisp air, Y/n stood. She smoothed her dress, a colour she did not recognize, but instantly fell in love with. Spreading her arms, she twirled. The grass tickled her feet but her laughter came from within.

Y/n began to walk. She had no destination, but her curiosity would not leave her still. The clearing, one she was sure she had seen before, had to have an end.

“Am I… dreaming?” Y/n asked herself, softly. She was afraid she might have disturbed the peace if she spoke normally. Bringing her fingers to her face, she began to lightly trace the structure of her face. Although she felt like herself, she could not be too sure.

A sudden thunder-like noise erupted around her, causing the land beneath her feet to shake. The once blue sky cracked, revealing darkness before it stitched itself back together.

Blinking, Y/n found herself standing in a forest. The empty field had been replaced with tall trees. The peaceful hum of wind was now accompanied by the sounds of birds. The forest felt different, dangerous, luring.

Y/n heard hurried, rustling footsteps approach her. Hiding herself behind a tree, Y/n’s eyes fell on a man dressed as a merchant. His hair had become unruly and his eyes were crazed, like an animal locked in its cage for too long.

“I am Marco Polo, and I am lost.” His words were slurred, hurried. Y/n watched him as he stood in between two trees, head darting to the left, and then the right in a loop. “I am Marco Polo, and I am lost.”

Stepping out of the tree’s safety, Y/n stood in the open. If this is a dream, surely I cannot be harmed, she reasoned. Taking a step towards the man, Y/n put her hand up in greeting. “Hello, there.”

The man, Marco Polo, jumped, letting out a quiet yelp. Snapping his head to Y/n, his eyes grew in size at the sight of her. Minutes later, he raised his hand. His lips parted but he shut them quickly, looking disheartened.

“My name is Y/n.” She smiled at the man, eyes trailing his dirty, worn out clothes. “Are you truly lost?”

The man nodded, solemnly. Licking his cracked lips, he spoke. “I am Marco Polo.”

“Greetings to you, Marco Polo. How long have you been lost?”

Digesting her words, Marco Polo held up both hands, spreading his fingers. He pressed his lips together, stopping himself from speaking.

Raising both her eyebrows, Y/n’s mouth fell open. “Ten years?” Her heart broke at the sight of his insanity. Staring at the man, she tilted her head. “Am I not dreaming? Have you been lost within a dream?”

Marco Polo nodded, his lips turned downwards. He wanted to tell Y/n his story, but he had lost the ability to speak normally long ago. His language consisted of eight words, and they had been his companions for a long time.

Y/n pursed her lips, in thought. She was sure this was a dream, but the man before her felt real. His anguish felt real. With a softer voice, she asked him, “have you forgotten how to speak?”

Nodding once again, Y/n sighed. “I wish you could speak more than eight words, Marco Polo. I would love to hear your thoughts. Your story.”

As water flowed through the Nile, words flowed down Marco’s throat, rushing to his head. His eyes widened as he tasted his thoughts on his tongue for the first time in a long time.

Y/n watched as Marco Polo’s eyes brightened, she took the slightest step back as he jumped, clapping his hands.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Y/n let out a disbelieving laugh, her eyebrows furrowed as she clapped along Marco Polo. “You can speak!”

Marco Polo danced around Y/n, singing a merry song. She relished in his joy, deciding to put aside her curiosity. This is a dream, she thought. Anything can be possible.

Smiling brightly, Marco Polo grabbed Y/n’s hand, kissing it. “May you reign The Dreaming forever, Y/n. I will remember your kindness and worship you. You shall become my home’s patron.”

A confused smile rested on Y/n’s lips. “Pardon me, sir? I am afraid I do not understand.”

“You are a Goddess, yes? A ruler of The Dreaming?”

Y/n’s eyes widened and she brought her hands up in protest. “I fear you have mistaken me, Marco. I am not a Goddess. I am human. I do not know what I have done.”

Marco Polo’s eyes narrowed, raising an eyebrow.

“You wished me to speak.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, understanding him. “I wished you could speak, Marco. I could not have wished you to speak.”

Marco Polo did not understand. He smiled easily, waving his hand in dismissal. “Politics do not worry me. I have been separated from my father and uncle for far too long. No one here has yet to aid me.”

Looking desperate, he grabbed both of Y/n’s hands gently, capturing her full attention. “Help me, Goddess. Wish me home.”

Feeling helpless, Y/n played into the man’s fantasy. She could not wish him home. She was only human. She had no power, and he was just a dream.

“What is home?”

Marco Polo sighed in delight. “A caravan. It is old, but beautiful. Filled with candles and honey.”

Squeezing Marco Polo’s hands at his yearning, she whispered. “I wish you could go home, Marco Polo. Back to your beautiful, honey filled caravan.”

Y/n and Marco Polo stared at each other, one with hope, the other with sadness.

The sound of crushed grass and bricks travelled to their ears and they turned towards the sound. Trees to their right disappeared and in their absence, a path of brick lay. The brick path was long, fading into the distance.

“You have done it!”

“How?”

Marco Polo and Y/n shared a look before he dropped her hands, running to the path. Y/n watched with confused amazement as Marco Polo ran down the path, waving to her. She raised her hand, waving limply.

“Goodbye, Y/n! Bless you!”

Y/n watched Marco Polo disappear. Curious, she yelled, “Marco?” After a beat, from a distance, she heard a response. “Polo!”

Walking to the path, she crouched down and brushed the red bricks with her fingers. Solid under her fingers, she stood and stepped upon the path. Walking slowly, she thought of the strange man’s words.

The Dreaming.

Goddess.

She was not a Goddess, she knew that much. She was human. A human who had dreamed for the first time in over two hundred years. “I wonder why that is,” Y/n questioned herself.

Looking ahead, Y/n found her path coming to an end. The bricks ended and a new path, one made of stone that crossed a moat greeted her. Past the vines and stone, Y/n saw two beautiful homes.

Stepping off the brick path, Y/n’s feet swayed beneath her. Noises invaded her ears and she began blinking harshly. The stone path before her began to flicker, and Y/n let out a small sigh.

She was waking up.

“Next time,” she whispered. Y/n fell to her knees and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking up at her ceiling.

A secret smile on her face.

Finding herself at the entrance to two houses, surrounded by forest and green, Y/n was back in The Dreaming for the first time in ten years.

Every night for the last ten years, Y/n had tried to dream. She had tried every tea, herb, and scent, and yet she slept dreamless.

It was an odd feeling, to be back. And to have been gone.

This night had been the one night in ten years where Y/n felt truly alone. She had laid in her bed content, filled to the brim with love, but had wished to share it with someone. Immortality was a blessing hidden in a curse. And yet, she wished to live.

Being alone was a privilege Y/n had great acquaintance with, but she loved it. She had trouble identifying the difference between freedom and loneliness.

Lifting her maroon dress, Y/n walked towards the stone path she had seen ten years ago. She could hear faint voices from the houses.

Stepping on the stone path, Y/n felt a chill press into her skin. With each step, the chill pressed harder and harder until Y/n was gasping, in pain. Pushing herself, Y/n reached the end of the path, and laid her eyes on two houses. Before her eyes fell on two men.

“For heaven’s sake, Abel, if you cannot keep your gargoyle’s waste off my property, I will kill you.”

“Sorry, Cain. I promise Goldie’s trying.”

“Do not blame the gargoyle, Abel. They are intelligent creatures. You on the other hand…”

Y/n slowed at the sight of the two men. They were both short, with similar dark hair, beards, and brown skin. The one slightly taller had a sharpness to him. He was dressed slightly less proper than the other, shorter one. His ears were also pointy. The shorter one, Y/n noticed, had a softer look.

Staying on the edge of the stone path, Y/n raised her hand. “Hello, gentleman!” She called out.

Both of the men whipped their heads to her, mouths falling agape. The taller one tightened his grip on his yardstick. The shorter one smiled, raising his hand.

Y/n slowly walked towards them, taking in the beautiful scenery. She noticed how both houses complemented each man. They resembled countryside cottages.

Stopping before them, she smiled. Before she could offer her name or another greeting, the one with pointy ears spoke first.

“Who are you?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you? How did you get here?”

Before she could answer his questions, the shorter one cut her off. “Be nice, Cain. She’s a visitor!”

Cain turned to his brother, ready to wage a war. Y/n, having been quiet long enough, spoke.

“My name is Y/n. I am human. And I woke up here.”

“What do you mean you woke up here?” Cain’s words were accusatory, loud.

“Last time I fell asleep, I walked along a path that brought me here. Then I woke up. When I fell asleep today, I dreamt of being here.”

Cain and the other man she assumed to be her brother, stared at her. The other one’s eyes widened.

“You are a human?”

Y/n nodded. “Yes. Mind I ask what your name is?”

“Abel. I am Abel and this is my brother,” he pointed at the man next to him, “Cain.”

Y/n blinked. Once. Twice. “Cain and Abel? As in the sons of Adam and Eve?”

Cain and Abel looked at each other and then at Y/n. They both nodded. “Yes and no,” Cain said. “We are dreams that embody who we once were on Earth.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dreams that embody…” She glanced at her hands, making sure she had ten fingers. “This is my dream. Have I dreamt you?”

Y/n felt confused. First, it was Marco Polo. A man she had never met, nor heard of. Now, it was Cain and Abel, men who had died a long, long time.

Cain scoffed. “We are not your dreams, we are part of The Dreaming. And you should not be here. You do not belong.”

“Cain,” Abel said. “She’s the first visitor we have had in a long time. I want her to meet Gregory! Oh, and Goldie.”

Cain’s eyes burned with rage, but he swallowed it. Y/n tried to remember their story, but all she could recall was murder. Unconsciously, she shifted closer to Abel.

Abel and Y/n looked at Cain, expectedly. With a resigned sigh that promised a war, Cain nodded.

“I suppose since you are already here, we can entertain you.”

Abel smiled at Y/n and waved her closer. As soon as Y/n stepped onto the grass, the land beneath her rumbled and her knees buckled. Cain and Abel held each other.

Once the land stopped shaking, Cain and Abel looked at Y/n. “Are you sure you are human?” Abel asked her. Y/n nodded, hoping to convince them and herself. “Promise.”

Abel, satisfied, smiled at her. “Well, come on then. Let me show you my home first.”

Y/n walked towards Abel. He motioned towards his home. “This is The House of Secrets. It is a focal location here, in The Dreaming.”

Y/n took in the cottage. It looked welcoming. “It is very beautiful, Abel.” Abel smiled, pleased. “It changes periodically,” he explained. “Secrets change, develop, as does the House.” He stopped just outside the door, frowning. “This is as far as I can take you.”

Y/n smiled, content. She had already seen so much.

“Thank you, Abel. Can I ask you a question?”

Abel nodded, giving Y/n his full attention. “What is The Dreaming? How can I dream…this?”

Abel scratched his beard. “Well, this is The Dreaming. When humans sleep, they come here. As for your second question, you should ask Lucienne.”

“Who is Lucienne?”

“The chief librarian. She has almost all the answers. However…you could ask Lord Morpheus. If you ever meet him.”

A wave of warmth washed over Y/n at the name. The pit of her stomach fluttered and her heart skipped a beat. “Lord Morpheus?”

“Yes,” Abel said. “He is the Ruler of The Dreaming.”

“Of course,” Y/n said. “How can I meet Lucienne?”

Abel raised an eyebrow, bringing his finger to his chin. “Not sure. Human’s can not enter the Heart of The Dreaming.”

Before Y/n could ask anymore, a small, golden, winged animal flew by her, landing on Abel’s shoulder. Y/n watched with utmost curiosity and amazement at the animal. Its large eyes looked at her, and she could have sworn it smiled.

“Y/n,” Abel smiled at her. “Meet Goldie.”

Y/n’s eyes softened at the animal. She gently reached out, hovering her hand over its head. Goldie tilted his chin up, her fingers brushing against his head.

“Beautiful,” she whispered. Looking at Abel, she asked him: “What is it?”

Abel blinked, he had never met anyone who did not know what a gargoyle was. With a jolly laugh, he patted Goldie’s head. “Goldie’s a gargoyle. Just a baby, though.”

“A gargoyle?” Y/n thought back to palace statues and old paintings. They did not look like this. They had been used as symbols of fear, but Goldie looked anything but.

“Have you yet to meet a gargoyle?”

Y/n nodded, suddenly shy. “The animals where I come from are not so… magical.”

“Would you like to hold him?”

Y/n’s eyes shifted from Goldie to Abel’s smiling face. He scooped the gargoyle in his hands and held him out. “Goldie is very friendly. His baby teeth have yet to come in.”

Y/n put her hands out. They trembled softly. She had been fine with mysterious lost men and biblical brothers, but a gargoyle felt different. Real. A proper dream.

Placing Goldie in her hands, Abel stepped back. Y/n laughed when Goldie rubbed his head against her thumb. His skin felt similar to the scales of a snake, yet softer. She brought Goldie closer to her face, smiling at him.

“You are exquisite,” she told him.

“Abel!”

At the sound of Cain’s loud, thundering voice, Abel and Y/n jumped. Frightened, Goldie flew out of Y/n’s hands and back to the roof of the House of Secrets.

Y/n and Abel turned to find Cain standing with his arms crossed, an impatient look on his face.

“That is enough,” Cain said. “Send her to my side so she can leave.”

Abel nodded, frowning. “Thank you for visiting, Y/n. I hope to see you soon.”

Y/n smiled, patting Abel’s hand. “Thank you, Abel. I shall never forget this.” Before Y/n walked to Cain’s side, she leaned towards Abel. “Cain is harmless, correct?”

Abel laughed but his eyes felt strained. “Do not worry, Y/n. The only person Cain will ever harm or kill is me. You will be fine.”

Mortified by his confession, Y/n wanted to ask questions, but Cain’s expectant voice interrupted her.

“Any day now!”

Smiling at Abel, she walked to Cain’s side. She noticed how his cottage was taller and darker looking. It looked imbalanced, like a story with one truth told many times.

Cain waited for Y/n with his arms crossed, his foot tapping the ground beneath him in a rapid, steady pattern.

Once she reached him, Y/n smiled. “Your house is very beautiful, Cain.”

Ice melted from Cain’s eyes and he dropped his arms. “Thank you.” He began walking and Y/n followed him. “This is the House of Mystery. My home.”

Y/n’s eyes followed the intricate patterns of the vines, each leading to its own mystery. The cottage had its own tower at the very top, with a dark window.

“Does your home change as Abel’s does?”

“No,” Cain answered, shortly. After a moment, he sighed. “Come. I will let you meet Gregory.”

Cain began walking towards the side of his home, and Y/n quickly followed behind him. Her eyes wandered, taking in the scenery. There was a shed and piles of flowers, scattered along the property.

Cain stepped aside and Y/n’s eyes fell on a large, sleeping gargoyle. Letting out a surprised laugh, she looked at Cain, amazed.

“This is Gregory.”

“He is… green.”

Cain blinked, surprised at her conclusion. “Yes. Gregory is green.” He raised a bushy brown eyebrow at her. “Not very bright, are you?”

Y/n stared at Cain before breaking out in a wide smile. Her smile blinded Cain, and he looked away.

“I have been told worse.”

Ignoring her, Cain tapped Gregory’s nose. Gregory released a long breath through his nose, fluttering his eyes open. Waking his body, the large gargoyle pushed himself up, shaking away slumber.

For the first time in her presence, Cain smiled when Gregory brushed his nose against his hand. Watching him, Y/n realized how much love Cain truly carried within him.

It was not his fault, Y/n thought, that his story had been written this way.

“What a good boy you are,” Cain whispered.

Gregory, with his large eyes, shifted his gaze to Y/n. Curious, he tilted his head. Grunting.

“Yes,” Cain answered. “She is human.”

“You can understand him?”

Cain nodded, stepping aside. “All residents within The Dreaming can understand Gregory.”

Gregory stared at Y/n and she smiled, unsure of what to say. “Hello, Gregory.” She raised her hand in a limp wave. “You are magnificent.”

Gregory grunted, and Cain looked bewildered. His eyes darted to Y/n before settling on her.

“Are you sure, Gregory?” Cain asked, hesitantly. Gregory grunted, to which Cain stepped back. Looking at her, Cain spoke his words slowly. “Gregory would like to speak to you. Alone.”

Y/n eyes widened and she looked from Cain to Gregory. “I cannot understand him.”

Cain’s lips lifted into a lopsided smile. “Yet, human. Yet.”

Cain turned and walked away, leaving Y/n alone with a large gargoyle. She threaded her fingers together, trying to keep her excitement and fear at bay.

Stepping towards Y/n, Gregory lifted his head. Striking eyes stared at her, swirling with wisdom she had yet to earn. Gregory parted his mouth and licked Y/n’s cheek. Y/n stared at Gregory, her mouth agape in surprise.

Y/n felt Gregory’s drool seep into her skin, she reached to her once wet cheek with awe. She looked at Gregory with questions that rested on the tip of her tongue. “What have you…?”

Y/n felt a soft prodding within her mind. A push at her conscience. With little hesitance, she opened her mind, welcoming a rush of warmth.

A low, slow voice whispered in her mind. It felt ancient, all-knowing. “You are not human.”

Staring into Gregory’s eyes, Y/n knew the gargoyle was speaking to her. “I am,” she responded. “I am human. I have always been human.”

“May you always be connected to your humanity, Y/n. Immortality is water, and you are but a stone. Slowly, with time, you will erode. Fragments will wash away and your humanity will dissolve.”

Y/n stepped back. Gregory’s words felt remorseful, promising. The concept of immortality had been left untouched by Y/n for years. She simply wished to live a mundane life for as long as she loved.

“Thank you, Gregory.” Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hand and rested it upon Gregory’s snout. “You said I am not human. Why?”

Gregory’s head shook slightly. “Not all curiosity is welcomed, Y/n.”

Receiving the message, Y/n nodded. She rubbed Gregory’s snout, enjoying the feeling of his skin under hers. She breathed in the fresh air, feeling content.

Y/n heard footsteps approach her and she turned her head, smiling at Abel and Cain. The brothers watched her with a newfound appreciation, once she could not place.

In the distance, a loud caw echoed. Y/n lifted her head to the sky. She had heard that sound before. Y/n, Cain and Abel, and Gregory watched as a black and white raven landed on a nearby tree.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/n smiled. She lifted her hand off Gregory and waved at the raven.

“Jessamy!”

Jessamy croaked in response, watching Y/n with the same precision she used in the Waking World.

“You know Jessamy?” Abel asked Y/n.

Y/n nodded. “Oh, yes. I must have dreamt her here. She is a friend from…”

“The Waking World?” Abel finished.

Y/n smiled at him. “Yes. I wonder why I dreamed of her here.”

Abel opened his mouth, but Cain dug his elbow into Abel’s stomach, quieting him.

At her stare, Cain lifted his shoulders. “I think you should leave, human. Follow the raven back to your own dream.”

Y/n sighed, feeling dreadful. She did not want to wake up. She loved it here. It fulfilled her heart and yearning for company.

“I see,” she said. “Thank you for having me, Cain and Abel. I shall remember you both forever.”

Y/n turned, walking towards the stone path. Abel waved and Cain stood still, his arms beside him. Stepping onto the stone, Y/n turned back and smiled at the brothers. With each step further away, Y/n felt the thread of loneliness tighten around her heart.

Walking towards Jessamy, Y/n noticed how she looked bigger, more regal than she did in the Waking World. Nearing the raven, Y/n smiled. “Now, why would I dream you?”

Jesammy’s head tilted. She had been a raven for Morpheus and The Dreaming for a long time. And yet, she had never met a woman like Y/n. The raven, Morpheus’s most trusted, quite liked watching over the human.

Jessamy perched on the branch before she flew off towards the edge of The Dreaming, guiding Y/n to the place meant for her. The part of The Dreaming Morpheus instructed Jessamy to bring Y/n. Making sure the human followed, Jessamy flew low to the ground.

Y/n ran behind Jesssamy, wind brushing her hair and tussling her dress. The trees pulled towards her, grass parted as she stepped, and the air hugged her. She felt young, free, and so infinitely loved.

Jessamy stopped on a low hanging branch. She had reached the edge of The Dreaming. Looking down, her black orbs stared at Y/n’s huffing figure. Letting out a final caw, she flew off towards the heart of The Dreaming. Returning to Morpheus.

Y/n watched Jessamy fly away. She tasted a tinge of a bittersweet goodbye. Although it was a dream, Y/n could not help but feel that when she woke, she would never see Jessamy again.

“Goodbye, friend.”

The smell of cigars wafted through the air, mixing with the sweet smell of flowers and freshly cut grass.

Y/n’s eyes opened to the sound of haughty laughter. Brushing her hair away from her eyes, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her gaze settling on a black raven and a man with a pumpkin head.

Shifting her eyes from the odd pair, Y/n breathed in the fresh air of The Dreaming, glad to be back after thirty years. She stood, patting down her soft pink dress. At the sound, the raven and pumpkinhead turned to face her.

“Merv, she’s awake!”

“I see that, bird. Great observation.”

Anxious as to what her time in The Dreaming would show her, Y/n waved at the pair before she walked towards them. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the man with the pumpkin head had a body made out of wood, and he was smoking.

“Hello, there.” Y/n smiled. “My name’s Y/n.”

“You shook The Dreaming when you appeared, Y/n.”

Y/n blinked. Thirty years was enough to forget about the magic The Dreaming held. And a speaking pumpkin was beyond her imagination.

“Merv,” the black raven sighed. “Just introduce yourself.”

Blowing out cigar smoke, Merv extended his gloved hand towards Y/n. “Mervyn Pumpkinhead, at your service.”

Y/n carefully grasped his hand before gently shaking it. She could feel the hardness of wood beneath his gloves.

The raven cleared his throat. “And I am Matthew, Lord Morpheus’s most trusted emissary.”

That name, Y/n remembered. I have heard it before.

Staring at the raven, Y/n smiled, remembering her old friend. “I did not know ravens spoke. The only raven I knew, Jessamy, never spoke.”

Merv and Matthew stared at Y/n before Merv narrowed his hollow eyes. “You know Jessamy?”

Y/n nodded. “I do. I have not seen her in years, but she was a friend.”

“Interesting,” Merv said, curiously. He glanced behind Y/n before looking at her. “Any reason as to why the ground shook when you appeared here?”

Y/n pursed her lips. She did not know why The Dreaming always had a moment of imbalancement when she made an appearance. Instead of answering the man that resembled bogeyman that farmers used to scare away birds, she clapped her hands.

“I have not visited The Dreaming in quite some time. Would you care to show me around?”

Matthew nodded, cawing. He spread his wings and lifted off the ground, setting himself on Merv’s shoulder. “Merv was just doing rounds. You should join us!”

Before Merv could disagree, Y/n smiled and began walking. Merv looked at Matthew with exasperation before following her. His legs were long and caught up with her quickly, until they walked side-by-side.

“Are you a dream, Mervyn?”

The pumpkinhead sighed, seemingly annoyed with the conversation that had yet to begin. “Just Merv, please. And yes. I take charge of the construction, maintenance, and demolition work in The Dreaming.”

Y/n hummed, listening. “I see. I did not realize that The Dreaming did not repair itself.”

Merv scoffed. “Oh, kid, trust me. It can. Dream can will The Dreaming to change. I exist because of free labor.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “Funnily enough, I know someone named Dream as well.”

Y/n looked at Matthew. “You called yourself an emissary?”

Matthew nodded. “That’s right. Ever since Jessamy chose jobs in the Waking World, I have replaced her as Morpheus’s raven.”

“Can I meet Morpheus?”

Merv halted midstep, turning his head to stare at Y/n with his mouth agape. “Humans do not meet the Ruler of The Dreaming. He’s dramatic that way.”

Disappointed, Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Very well, then.”

“Say,” Matthew began. “What were you doing just laying there?”

“I always lay on the grass before I open my eyes.”

Matthew and Merv shared a look Y/n was desperate to translate. Before she could ask, Merv pointed to their left. “I have a house to repair there. Let’s go.”

Turning, they walked towards the house. Y/n’s eyes deceived her as the scenery changed from a forest to rocky mountains.

As if stepping into a new world, her eyes soaked in all it had to offer. A small cottage sat in between two mountains, a river intricately placed, protecting it.

“How is this possible?”

Merv glanced at Y/n before knocking on the door. “The shorter answer is magic. The longer answer is too long.”

A winged woman with pointed ears and light hair answered the door, her dress shimmered in the sun. Y/n’s mouth parted in awe, having never seen a fairy.

Merv tilted his head upwards in greeting. “What is it this time, Fae?”

“Back door, Merv. I keep hitting it.” Her voice was soft, child-like. Bright, golden eyes met hers and Y/n grinned. The fairy smiled, waving shyly at her. “You brought a guest, Merv.”

“I came too!” Y/n was unsure whether ravens could frown, but she assumed Matthew was doing so.

Fae giggled, motioning them inside. “Matthew! How lovely to see you.”

The inside of Fae’s home was magical. It was beyond anything Y/n had ever seen, and she had seen many homes. Merv walked through the cottage as if he owned it and pulled a singular tool from his belt.

Y/n watched Merv work from afar as Matthew and Fae spoke to each other, quietly. She basked in the normalcy she felt being here, in The Dreaming. It was unlike anything she felt when awake.

“Can I offer you anything?”

Y/n turned to find Fae looking at her with shy eyes and a small smile. Shaking her head, she introduced herself. “My name is Y/n.”

“Fae,” the fairy responded. “Are you a new dream?”

Y/n’s eyebrows lifted. “A new dream? I do not think so. I am human.”

Fae’s nose scrunched and she looked at Matthew before looking back at her. “Human? But you are here.”

“Yes,” Y/n said. “Merv and Matthew brought me along.”

Fae was beyond comprehension. She chose not to speak further and simply smiled at Y/n.

“Done,” Merv said. He turned to look at Fae with a frown. “Try not to break anything for some time.”

Fae smiled a secretive smile. “I shall try.”

Merv and Matthew walked out the open door, and Y/n followed. She turned to look back at the fairy and waved. “Goodbye, Fae!”

Fae raised her hand, smiling. “Farewell, Y/n.”

Turning, Y/n found herself back in her treasured, familiar forest. Mervyn leaned against a large tree, smoking. Matthew flew in circles, stretching his wings.

The sight felt comforting to Y/n. A small part of her wondered if this is what she missed in her waking life. The magical nonsense an immortal being should be surrounded with.

“Well, kid,” Merv smiled. “Duty calls elsewhere.”

Matthew landed on her shoulder and Y/n pet his head. “Can I ask you a question before you leave, Merv?”

Merv nodded. “What is it?”

“Can a human… stay in The Dreaming?”

Laughing jadedly, Merv shook his head. “Funny, kid.” At her wide eyes and downturned lips, he sighed. “The Dreaming is a realm for humans to visit.”

“Unfortunate,” Y/n tried to smile. “I suppose I will have to visit often, then.”

Mathew chirped beside her. “When you visit next, come find me! I’ll give you a tour.”

Y/n grinned. “Thank you, Matthew.”

Mercy pushed himself off the tree, beckoning Matthew to follow. “See you later, kid.”

Y/n watched the pumpkinhead and raven walk away until they disappeared within the trees. Releasing a long breath, she decided to wander until she woke up.

Walking in the opposite direction, Y/n mulled over all she had learned about The Dreaming. She had yet to meet other humans, and she wondered about the Ruler of The Dreaming.

Lord Morpheus.

A warm pull tugged at her, making her stumble.

“Careful, there.”

Y/n’s eyes snapped to a man with golden hair and white clothing. He leaned against a tree, his eyes covered with round, black lenses. His smile was menacing, and everything about him, despite his light look, felt dark. Dangerous.

Y/n smiled at him, pushing away ill feelings. She had yet to meet an unpleasant creature in The Dreaming.

“You alright?”

Y/n nodded, smoothing out her dress. “Yes, thank you. I’m Y/n.”

The well-dressed man pushed himself off the tree and walked towards Y/n, the way predators stalk their prey. Y/n tried her best not to cower.

Extending his hand, the man bowed lightly.

“Corinthian.” He kissed Y/n’s hand. “A pleasure.”

Y/n smiled. “I was just walking aimlessly. Would you like to join me?”

The Corinthian’s smile was unlike anything Y/n had ever seen. It repelled the forest, pushing the trees away. “It would be an honor.”

Linking arms at the elbows, Y/n and the Corinthian began walking. Their skin did not touch, but Y/n could feel chills run through her.

“Are you a dream, Corinthian?”

Corinthian let himself dwell on the notion of being a dream for a moment before he answered.

“Unfortunately, I am not.” He watched Y/n’s reaction. “I’m a nightmare.”

“A… nightmare?”

The Corinthian nodded, feeding off her slight fear. She hid it well, Corinthian mused. Very well.

“Does that frighten you?”

Y/n considered her answer. It did not frighten her as much as it surprised her. In her mind, nightmares were dark and terrifying creatures. Words she would not use to describe the man beside her.

“No,” she decided. “A human must dream and have nightmares for a balanced life. I suppose I did not expect a nightmare to be so… charming.”

The Corinthhian smiled, pleased. “Is that right?” He swiftly turned them towards the direction of the Gatekeepers. “Can I ask you something, Y/n?”

Y/n nodded. “Anything.”

“What is it like to be human? Free?”

Y/n tilted her head in thought. She had not been expecting a question about freedom. After a few quiet moments, she answered.

“To be human is to be alone. Wrong. Free, yet not completely. I am fortunate enough to be able to do what I please, but many others cannot. Freedom is not definite, and means something different for each person.”

The Corinthian said nothing as he digested her words. Her words were human enough, and they quietened the hum in his heart.

Y/n’s eyes grew heavy and she slowed. She recognized the feeling. Her body was waking, and she silently cursed it.

The Corinthian unlinked their arms, tipping his head. “A pleasure, Y/n. We will have to do this again.”

Before she woke, Y/n watched him walk away until the world around her grew hazy and she shut her eyes.

The smell of oak and ink invaded Y/n’s nose as she opened her eyes, finding herself at the entrance to a vast and never-ending library.

Aisles and aisles of books surrounded her. Some with names and others with titles she had never read. Low, yellow lights illuminated the library, reminding her of her own library. She swallowed her disappointment, replacing it with awe.

With a gentleness only a scholar could afford, she traced the spines of the books as she walked down an aisle, whispering the titles under her breath. It had been seventy years since Y/n had visited The Dreaming for the first time, and she was glad she had dreamed of a library instead of a forest.

Reaching the end of the aisle, Y/n found a staircase leading to a higher level. Curious, she climbed the stairs quietly. Walking down the corridor, she found herself mesmerized by the architecture of the library. Much like her own, this library was made completely of wood and metal.

Reaching large wooden doors with intricate designs made by vines, she pushed them open. The walls of the room held an uncountable amount of books, and in the middle, a large pedagogical desk rested. Walking into the room, Y/n’s eyes drank in the room.

The organized chaos was pleasing to her. It resembled her own library, her life. She silently praised the occupant of the room, hoping to meet them. An inkling told her she would be good friends with them.

Brushing the spines, she breathed in the familiar smell of ink and wood.

“Can I help you?”

Startled, Y/n spun to face the office doors. Her eyes landed on a black woman wearing a brown suit. Her hands were locked, resting on her stomach. Her shaved head displayed her pointed ears, which resembled Cain and Abel’s. Circular, vintage eyeglasses rested on her nose.

“Oh my, you surprised me.” Y/n placed a hand on her resting heart, willing it to slow. At the woman’s expectant eyebrow, she explained herself. “I apologize,” she said. “I woke here and began to wander. This room looked very tempting. All these stories…” There was awe in Y/n’s voice.

The woman’s eyebrow lowered until they furrowed.

“Woke here? In the library?”

Y/n nodded, giving the woman her full attention.

“Yes.”

The woman pushed her eyeglasses back onto the bridge of her nose. “That is not…” She paused before smiling. “I am Lucienne. The chief librarian. This is my library.”

A relieved laugh escaped Y/n before she grinned. “Lucienne? Oh, how I have wanted to meet you. I am Y/n.”

At her name, Lucienne’s smile dropped and her eyes widened. Y/n watched an infinite amount of emotions dance across Lucienne’s face before she settled on nonchalance.

“A pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” Lucienne’s words seemed earnest, but Y/n was no fool to faux pleasantry. She had, after all, spent centuries with all kinds of men and women.

Lucienne walked into the room and sat at her desk. She motioned for Y/n to take the opposite chair.

“Please,” she said. “Join me.”

Y/n joined Lucienne, sitting on the opposing chair. Both women looked at each other before smiling. Y/n’s eyes travelled along the book titles. “The books,” she began. “I have never seen nor heard of many of them.”

Lucienne laid her hands flat on the desk. “My library consists of the books and stories that have ever been dreamed, volumes that do not exist in the waking world.”

“That is magnificent,” Y/n whispered. Lucienne could not help but smile at her awe, knowing Y/n loved books as much as she did.

“The names…”

“The library consists of records of every human’s life in the Waking World as well as The Dreaming.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Does that mean I have a book?”

Lucienne pursed her lips, contemplating. She was unsure of how much to share with Y/n.

“Not entirely,” Lucienne finally answered. “You are a special case, Y/n.” Before Y/n could ask questions, Lucienne spoke again. “I am afraid I cannot share anymore.”

Deflating, Y/n sat back in her seat. She decided she would add Lucienne’s words to the never-ending list of questions and the unexplained. Changing course, she asked Lucienne a question that had been on the tip of her tongue.

“Abel said you had all the answers. Do you, Lucienne?”

Threading her fingers together, Lucienne tilted her head, curious. “That would depend on the question, Y/n.”

Hesitancy dancing on her tongue, Y/n pursed her lips. Sighing, she met Lucienne’s penetrating gaze. “Is it possible to meet someone here, in The Dreaming?”

A list of potential names appeared in Lucienne’s mind. “It is.” After a moment, she asked, “who are you looking for, Y/n?”

For the first time in a long time, Y/n felt nervous. After many years, she finally understood why she had begun to dream.

“Immortality is a blessing,” she said. “I am thankful for it everyday. I have loved and lived. However… I never realized how lonely it would get.”

Lucienne drank in her words. Her interactions with humans were limited, and hearing Y/n speak opened Lucienne’s mind to human wants and needs. Books could only teach so much.

“There is a man, well, not a man, but a being who visits me every century on the same day. He is not a conversationalist, nor has he many manners, but his company washes away the loneliness. Perhaps it is because he too is immortal, and understands.”

Lucienne’s breathing stopped, and her heart sped up. From context, she knew it was Morpheus that Y/n spoke of. Lucienne assumed it had been a loved one, perhaps a husband or friend that Y/n yearned to meet.

Lord Morpheus had never been an option.

“This… being,” Lucienne kept her voice light, “what is his name?”

Y/n smiled. “Oneiros.”

Against her better judgement, Y/n missed the strange man’s company. It was comforting to know she would see a familiar face when those around her passed, and that he would find her anywhere.

A hundred years was too many years. Even for an immortal.

Lucienne released a long breath. She could not tell Y/n that the being she wished to see was the King of Dreams, the Ruler of Nightmares.

“I have never heard of him.” Lucienne’s voice wavered.

The lie burned Lucienne’s tongue, a dark mark on her once clean record. Lucienne was not a liar, but she had become one now. For The Dreaming, she reasoned. That is all.

Y/n’s shoulders sagged and she frowned. Years of interactions had her fluent in human behaviour. She knew Lucienne was lying, but Y/n was in no position to call on a dream.

Compared to Lucienne, Y/n was a singular file, one in millions.

“I see,” Y/n hummed. “Perhaps that is for the best. I will see him in thirty years.”

Lucienne smiled. Her eyes drifted behind Y/n for a moment before settling back on her. “I apologize, Y/n, but I have business to attend to. You are free to explore my library as you wish.”

Y/n smiled at Lucienne. “It was very nice to meet you, Lucienne. I hope we meet again.”

Lucienne walked out of the room and turned down the hall, disappearing. Y/n sat in the chair for a minute before standing and making her way back to the main floor. The closed walls and infinite books soothed her spinning mind.

Strolling down a random aisle, Y/n said every name she read outloud. These were stories of actual people that lived, had lived, or would live. Y/n’s eyes landed on a name she had not thought about in years.

Pulling out the maroon book, she read the title softly, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

“The Travels of Marco Polo.”

Flipping through the book, her eyes widened as she saw her name. Sitting down, she read the passage written about her out loud:

“‘A dream holds enough treasure to please an ordinary man, but an ordinary man cannot be lost in a dream in search of treasure. He [Marco Polo] had been trapped in a dream for ten years before he met a Goddess. Her name was Y/n and for the first time, his wish was not for treasure or for travels, but home. His dream had changed, and it had come true. With the kindness of a Goddess, Marco was sent home.’”

“Well ain’t that just sweet?”

Y/n lifted her eyes from the page to the familiar face of Mervyn Pumpkinhead. She smiled at him, shutting the book. “Hello, again.”

Merv raised his hand in greeting. “Should have known it was you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

“The shaking? It broke a shelf and Lucienne asked me to fix it.”

Y/n stared at Merv before glancing at the books around her. “I did not feel any shaking.”

“Huh…” Merv shrugged his woody shoulders before looking above her. “You’re an interesting thing, kid. See you around.”

Merv walked away and as Y/n called out to him, small soft grains of sand hit her face and she grew immensely tired. The book slipped from her hands and her eyes drooped.

Slumping, Y/n’s head rested against a shelf. Before she shut her eyes for good, a blurred familiar face whispered in her ears.

“Sleep.”

Lucien was a proper and sophisticated dream. She was the chief librarian of The Dreaming. She had innate responsibilities and yet, she could not find it in herself to walk to Morpheus’s throne room.

She ran.

Pushing open the doors, Lucienne bowed hurriedly before threading her fingers together.

“Not even a knock, Lucienne?”

Tilting her head to the ground, Lucienne winced. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but there has been a significant development.” A pause, and then, “about Y/n.”

Morpheus stood on the tenth step, facing his throne. His back was to Lucienne but he could sense her worrisome mood and distress.

“What is it?”

Lucienne stepped forward, her throat dry. “She appeared in the library, sir. She woke up there and walked around it. It is very rare for a human to make it close enough to the gates, and yet she reached my library?” Lucienne rubbed her hands together. “What is she, my Lord?”

Morpheus listened to Lucienne with his utmost attention. He could not tell Lucienne that he knew she had woken in the library. Morpheus did not know how to explain to his librarian that he knew when she was here because he felt a pull in him and it did not let go until she was gone.

Morpheus could not declare to Lucienne that everytime Y/n came closer to him, he allowed it. There was no explanation for his behaviour, for his unconscious need to quiet the hum she rose in him.

Morpheus would not tell Lucienne that Y/n washed away his loneliness, and that his curiosity about her overpowered his need to implement his rules.

And so, the Ruler of The Dreaming said nothing of importance.

“If she brings no harm to The Dreaming, Lucienne, then she is welcome. Just as all humans are.”

“Do you believe she is human, sir?” Lucienne could not believe that her Lord would dismiss her concerns as so. “She sent Marco Polo home. She appeared before Cain and Abel. She visited another dream. Humans cannot do that.”

Morpheus turned, facing Lucienne. His librarian was distressed, and to ease her mind, Morpheus spoke again. “There are some humans that are stronger dreamers than others. I will look into her, Lucienne. You shall not worry.”

Lucienne pursed her lips before nodding. After all, it was his realm.

“Understood, sir.”

Lucienne hurried out of the throne room and Morpheus sighed. In thirty years, he would see her again and ask his questions.

Morpheus would know the woman haunting his dreams.

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imactuallysoup · 2 months

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HEY GUYS ITS AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER I ACTUALLY SPENT TIME AND EFFORT DESIGNING

Yu... Don't realize how much designs I went through. I have four whole pages filled up just designing him and perfecting him. THEN I digitalized it for your convenience. He's a demon! I REALLY hope you like it. He's my first real oc that i genuinely spent time making

(edit: I forgot to put in that he's supposed to have his hands wrapped in bandages and no i don't know wtf his color pallet is, I encourage anyone to pretend he has an awesome colour pallet that probably consists of black and orange or purple @purpleart00)

@purpleart00 I DID IT. I MADE AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER. I DID IT. HES REAL. I SPENT TIME BRAINSTORMING AND THINKING AND SPENT REAL TIME DESIGNING. THIS IS SO REAL. IM SO HAPPY. I WANTED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU SINCE I REMEMBER ONE TIME YOU SAID YOUD DRAW MY OC IF I EVER MADE ONE. (you don't have too of course! Only if you want, I don't expect anything from you :)

@renzarrrr LOOK LOOK AT WHAT I MADE. LOOK OMGG

#Original art #YAY #his name is dalion #Oc #Oc art #I wish people will see this. Please #Can I have reblogs guys?#Reblog #I beg you #I want this to get more than 3 likes #I want my oc art actually seen #I'm proud of this #Really I am ToT #Art #my art <3

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padawansuggest · 2 years

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When someone says ‘I’m not one for gossip, but-‘ it’s immediately followed by gossip of the highest assumption and speculation. Delightful. Padme is that one.

Obi-Wan is the one who just plops right by you and starts with ‘Master Yoda told me-‘ even when Master Yoda very much did NOT tell him, but chances of him knowing are 99.9% likely so he can’t even argue and it’s like a form of gaslighting because he’s starting to wonder if he IS telling Obi-Wan this shit but forgets it later. Is Obi-Wan his secret tea buddy???? Wtf is going on???

Bail is the one who EVERYONE tells their gossip because he really DOESNT participate in gossip so everyone thinks he’s the one they should tell all their secrets to, so when someone shows up needing life-or-death information he’s all *sigh so deep it came from his soul* and spills what they need to know. It’s saved many lives. Tbh, one could say it’s saved the galaxy a time or two.

Anakin is the 6 year old who hears all the gossip cause he was sitting on the ground while mom (Obi-Wan) had his weekly stitch-n-bitch with the girls and he coloured a pretty lightsaber in his cool Jedis-N-Knights colouring book Master Yoda threw at him the last time he sighed too often, but he doesn’t really know who half these people are so the gossip is retained, but not absorbed. Wrong conclusions are consistent in his brain.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #clone wars #Yoda #padme amidala #padme naberrie #bail organa

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fanghur · 3 months

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thinking about the maximum ride series by James Patterson again and, like, I still love the concept and story, just really, really hate the writer and how he treated it. Almost nothing is consistent save for character's races (but hair and eye colour are free game!), there's plot points that go nowhere that I'm still mad about, and can't because the last book I read ended (Spoilers for uhh, Nevermore I think?) with fucking Meteors Coming the Fuck outta Nowhere and hitting the Earth and fucking killing basically everyone outside the people we care about, so never mind the ominous tunnel under the normal school from book two, it never came up again and everything destroyed! Which leads to my third major issue, 'plot twists' that come from nowhere and/or a different plot twist feels like it's coming but Nope! See, previously mentioned Meteor of Fuck Y'All

Like, you want another example of the series lost potential? Okay, cool, buckle up because it's gonna be a doozy, not even getting into all the rest of my ranting after.

So in case you aren't familiar with the series and wanna know wtf am I talking about, here's the first book. Max Ride is a mutant bird kid that leads a Flock of other bird kids and makes sure they aren't found by the scientists, White Coats, that created, abused by, experimented on, abused by, and did I mention abuse? They got out 4 years prior because Jeb, a white coat, got them out, so he's Good! but he disappeared, so boo. Anyways, one day they're all chillaxin at their home that Jeb was able to acquire for them years ago without The School that the White Coats work at knowing about, and Boom, evil wolf-human hybrids called Erasers show up, and kidnap Angel, the youngest at 6, and also a telepath, and the others chase after them. Got it? Good.

They get Angel back, awesome, now they're on the run, less awesome. Then Max get's a grenade-grade migraine that almost makes her a Splat because it was at cruising altitude, and Ta-Da, Max! You're now the proud owner of a Voice in your head, but don't worry, you're not developing a mental illness, because it can interact with computers and stuff! A couple books later, Jeb, who's alive! But, ~gasp~ EVIL??! reveals that HE is the Voice! Aaannnd that's all the reveals I remember regarding that plot point.

Sooo, with the background knowledge, you probably noticed something, if only because of the details I chose. That's right, no one suspects Angel the telepath of being the source or carrier/relay point of the telepathic Voice, because she's Baby, nevermind that she telepathically forced someone to ram into a wall repeatedly, she's Baby. Like, as cool as I thought Max was, I wanted to shake her even back then because Angel was Literally in the Hands of the White Coats Maximum use your fucking brain-

And that could have been a cool plot twist that Angel was evil and subtly guiding everyone along. Hell, she askes/demands to be made leader of the Flock and Max just, says no and waves it to the side? Like, girl she could make you! Ask yourself Why? But nope, Jeb's gotta be able to talk in the Voice's, well, voice, meanwhile the company that owns The School is run by someone with turtle DNA that's over, like, 100? How? Or the Head of the FBI is a director of The School, or just wtf was up with the Uber-Director from uhh, the Final Warning I think? The one where it just leans HARD into climate crises and Global Warming, and cool, good message, but what happened to the whole Bird Kids Hiding so they don't get Experimented on Again angle? When they're literally putting on aerial shows to raise awareness?

But you wanna know the one thing I HATED on a more personal level? What a surprise from someone who's ace, because it's the motherfuckin Love Story that got shoved in here! Oh no my friends, not just a love Story, it's a Love Triangle

Basically, Book 2 Fang kisses rando and Max gets jealous but is confused because romance? In my survival? Get that shit outta here. Then, a few books later but especially in MAX the Novel (cause that ain't confusing at allll for book 5) Fang peruses Max romantically. Which, uh, a) ace like I said, I was a fan of Max's prioritizing survival because romance did not make sense to prioritize more, and b) Max constantly tells the reader she sees it as a sibling relationship, not romantic. Sure, he's her "right-wing man" but still a brother, so, not a fan of incest either, icked me out that it became a focus, to the point he wears her down and they try dating and just fuck that.

Don't get me wrong, I can like romance, but it's a put-off if it doesn't make sense for the characters, and guess what? It made no sense for Max.

Then, I guess Patterson realised the incest angle was bad so enter Dylan, a new bird kid that was cloned from some dead rando kid that was created, literally, to be Max's Perfect Match, a mad scientist SoulMate if you will, and then they date after Fang fucks off into the sunset.

WHAT

Realise that, outside Fang 'romancing' Max until she caved, Max is definitely the type to, and had continuously, rebel against the machinations of evil scientists, so, wtf?

Meanwhile, if Max had realised that, that scene in book 2 still canon, that she was jealous of Fang kissing red-headed rando girl, well, then we could have gotten a) no incest ick b) rebelliousness in a non-conventional relationship (attempt) c) a major Fuck You to the Evil Scientists and their 'owo perfect bird kids kids' eugenics program (btw Max was still 15 when Dylan's introduced) and d) representation of LGBT+. Boom, mic drop. Plus, from inter-fandom shipping perspective, that's a lot of potential for fanart and even I like fluffy shipping art once in a while. (btw if this inspires people to ship Max and redhead girls from other fandoms I would appreciate links because it is a hill I will die on)

There's more, but that's my biggest gripes

TL;DR Fuck James Patterson for all the wasted potential of this series, and also I headcanon Max Ride to be a lesbian who doesn't realise and has a thing for red-heads.

#Maximum ride #max ride #mr #dude I loved the concept so bad both plot and wanted to be a bird kid #I literally had dreams about having wings I was so obsessed #they really did my girl Max dirty #and by they I mean Patterson he dropped the ball so fucking much #long post #rantings and ramblings of a mad woman #mad as in angry btw #lets face it we're all mad here in a chesire cat way on this site #Not even gonna get into later in the series because I dropped it #but from what I heard post-Nevermore? Big Yikes

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cotgar2 · 1 year

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Hi hi!! I’m getting into drawing humans and I would love to see your process for your lined and coloured digital pieces! I would also love some advice for drawing in any nature if you can~

No problem at all!! Sorry this took a minute to get to, but I wanted to get a good drawing to show a step by step process for lol. And since I’m extremely aware of the fact that my handwriting’s crap lol, under the cut is a transcription!

NOTE: I’M NOT AN EXPERT. THERE ARE TOTALLY BETTER EXPLANATIONS OUT THERE LOL

Roughs, imo, help just understand wtf you’re doing lol. They don’t have to be neat in any sense, and they just serve the purpose of you understanding how you’re gonna go about whatever

I am literally insane and do lines in one layer 99% of the time. And usually my “lines” are what most artists consider their sketch. I’m just an impatient artist fhfhdbfb

In my experience, changing the lines after helps find spots that were missed when coloring much easier! Whether that’s with the fill bucket or by hand, it’s super annoying when it misses stuff. Happens to the best of us

If I could marry a stage of art, it’s these two. I feel like I black out and wake up when I do them, but they’re so fun. I apologize for the last one not really having advice, but it seriously is up to the artist on what to do here! I add gradients with different layer types to make colors pop, but the colors can change depending on where they are or even what character it is. There’s no set-in-stone advice there, at least in my experience, and that can go for both stages 4 and 5.

AND I GOT A HUGE TIP FOR DRAWING HUMANS: REFERENCES!!! USE THEM!!!! I am a big fucking idiot for not using them more, since a kid I’ve been resistent and IDK WHY, IM A BIG STUPID IDIOT, USE REFERENCES PLEASE. It helps so much and makes your art make sense. By that, I mean that the gestures are so much clearer and everything. Your best reference? YOU!! Take a photo of yourself doing a stupid-ass pose! I did that for my recent animation, where this exact frame was taken from me, posing in front of my camera!

(His fuckin pancakes :,( fhshhd im sorry)

Do not be scared to use references, please. I beg of you, I beg of ANYONE reading this. USE REFERENCES. TAKE STUPID CRINGE PHOTOS OF YOURSELF FOR YOUR ART.

Hope that helped!! And again I am not a professional and none of this is saying to copy me exactly. It’s purposefully leaving out some of my process so you can explore your own approach at drawing humans! I wish you luck, anon!! :Dcc

Transcript:

1) “Rough”. Note: A sketch doesn’t have to be this defined!! Gets shape and definition; understanding where limbs / hair / clothes go, consistent dynamics. General understanding of what to do, basically. Pointing at dog face: Wasn’t in final, and that’s okay! (Extra image: I wouldn’t worry about this, but this just shows how the dynamics try to flow. Basically just up lol)

2) Lines/Cleanup. Multiple stages can happen!!! Defines shapes… And that all I kinda do loll. Lineart differs from person to person! I personally try not to use the stabilizer unless I need to, just to give it a hand-drawn look! Though that definitely has its downsides… This part takes me the longest…

3) Flats. I usually don’t put too much work into this step. I don’t change lines until after flats! Pointing to dog face: No more mouth! Pointing to bottom image: For stylistic purposes, I put the highlights from JJK (Jujutsu Kaisen) here too

#if i had a nickel for every time I wish I had better handwriting #but yeah! i am seriously no expert and make it look so simple #i swear art is some form of wizardry. even going through it /i/ was surprised #it doesn’t feel that easy and it definitely isnt but how can it look that easy #anyways I hope this helps in some form anon! don’t be scared to look up tutorials and other stuff! no harm in doing so!!#my art #ask #cotgar rambles #long post

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sitp-recs · 2 years

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Omg LIV! I was stalking your blog and HOLY SHIT ONE OF YOUR REPOSTS CONSISTS OF THE PERFECT PROMPT FOR A DRARRY FIC HELP ME PLS!!!!

https://sitp-recs.tumblr.com/post/690616971447992320

Do you possibly have ANY fic recommendation for it? I’m absolutely dying because wtf that dynamic is crazy hot and idskskmssk

I love you so much for reposting that btw, it hit me right in the spot that it had to and now I’m desperate but thank you dksksksk

Omg looks like we have a winner 😂 I wish I could list a thousand fics with this take but I can only think of a couple, and most don’t even have the quote but are great reads with that “vibe”. Let’s see if my followers can help!

A Perfectly Normal Reaction by magpie_fngrl (2020, T, 1k)

When the Patronus came, Harry stopped mid-shave and Apparated to the Ministry. He barged inside the Auror office, looking thunderous. ‘Who has him?’

Phoenix in the Fire by fwooshy (2021, E, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

Case File #742 by potterwatch (2019, M, 6k)

When Draco is thrown into the cell, he’s furious. When Potter gets thrown in behind him, he’s pissed.

My Hands Are Of Your Colour by hephaestiions (2020, E, 8k)

Sometimes spilled blood lingers on guilty hands. Draco sees red and Harry washes it clean.

Put a Price on My Soul by lamerezouille (2014, E, 12k)

Harry has become used to being a whore in the crapsack Wizarding World that’s now governed by Voldemort. Everything changes when Malfoy becomes his new pimp.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (2020, E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

#asks #anon #hurt/comfort

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yaminerua · 7 months

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A short one today which is always good after churning out more time-consuming ones;;;

Smegtober prompts as always are by @a-literal-toaster-wtf

Day 10's prompt was Cats so for this it's just a little thing post TPL in which Lister checks in on Cat after everything's over.

Words: 1837

****

Lister found the Cat exactly where he expected to find him.

Well, okay, maybe not exactly where he’d expected to. It had taken him a few searches through several different rooms lined with coat-racks brimming with suits and jackets of every colour and design before he’d found the one that was currently in active use and not just one of many, many archival wardrobes but he had been right in thinking he’d find him somewhere around there.

Presently, the Cat was hunched over his latest project, neatening up the final details on the lapels of what looked to be a magenta suit, the silvery reflective gilet he had been wearing earlier that day – the one he had fashioned from one of Starbug’s emergency parachutes – already hanging up on display beside him, along with the accompanying suit jacket. It would likely soon join the rest of Cat’s extensive collection of clothes, archived after one use. If he could at all help it, the Cat would never be seen dead wearing the same thing twice and if he had to be forced to you could bet he’d find some way to make sure there was still something subtly different about it to distinguish it from its previous use.

That kind of mindset was directly antithetical to Lister’s, who had largely been cycling through the same grotty handful of gradually deteriorating clothes for the last 30 years.

Clearing his throat quietly and tapping lightly on the doorframe to get his attention, Lister invited himself in and plopped himself down unceremoniously on a vacant chair, palms resting on his knees, digits tapping out a restless little rhythm. Cat glanced at him quickly out of the corner of his eye, flashed him a toothy grin and said, “Hi, bud, what’s up?”

He didn’t seem too worse for the wear after the wild couple of days that they had all just endured. In actual fact he seemed as pleasantly content as ever, completely unaffected by any of the revelations and discoveries that had taken place. If the Cat was nothing else, he was at least consistent.

Lister shrugged at the greeting and watched on as Cat snipped the end of the finished thread and removed some of the pins that had been holding the fabric in place. He wondered with amusement what poor unsuspecting part of the ship he’d sourced his latest materials from.

“Just stoppin’ by,” he said eventually before indicating with his thumb towards the upper floors. “The Almighty Smeghead up there is still floating on his high of being declared God so I’m waiting for him to come down from that a bit.”

He laughed, a little incredulous at the ridiculousness of the situation, and Cat visibly grimaced beside him, rolling his eyes. “Bad, bad idea,” he muttered, shaking his head and reaching for another section of material. “He’s never gonna come down from this one, bud.”

“Nah, he will,” Lister said assuredly. “Rimmer’s an expert at ruining his own mood.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” The Cat didn’t sound convinced, both eyebrows raised dubiously as he busied himself pinning fabric in place again.

Lister watched him again, trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. It had been a lot to take in, stumbling upon other members of the Cat’s species – the relatives of those who had once lived on board Red Dwarf, the place of their origin – and immediately being treated as a deity, worshipped and respected, looked to for salvation.

It had been strange enough for him the first time he had ever found out about it from Cat himself, discovering that he was the unintentional, completely accidental creator of an entire newly evolved species of humanoid, the Felis Sapiens, all because he’d impulsively smuggled a pregnant cat on board some 3 million and a bit years ago, but that had been bearable because Cat himself had largely seen him as little more than a slob who provided him food. He’d never actually looked at him as a saviour, not even once.

This time around, however, the other cats had been utterly entranced in awe of him, chanting and bowing and pleading to him to perform miracles to help the rest of their people and Lister had felt well and truly out of his depth, desperate to help them but unwilling to lead them on, to continue to let them believe he was anything more than a bloke from Liverpool who’d made several extremely significant mistakes in his life.

As strange as it had been for him, though, he wondered just how odd it had been for the Cat, who had spent so long away from the rest of his kind but had never seemed particularly bothered by it. He’d been reunited with someone who had turned out to be his brother Rodon, leader of the feral cats, but it hadn’t exactly been a warm and fuzzy sort of family reunion.

Cats were generally believed to be fickle creatures, quick to jump ship to suit their own needs, and it wouldn’t have been above Cat to have done exactly that – he had certainly pretended to more than once in the past – but for some reason when he had been offered a last minute chance to flee the doomed Red Dwarf and join his brother, to ‘come home’ to his people, he had refused and insisted that he was already home.

It warmed Lister to hear him say that, to suggest that he was already with his people, but he wondered whether Cat really felt that way, or whether it had been specifically Rodon he had been turning down, not the cat people in general.

“You sure about this?” he asked suddenly, looking around at the room, surrounded by works-in-progress and finished outfits, each one just as glamorous as the one before it. “Stayin’ here I mean?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Cat responded, not looking up from his work.

Lister shrugged. “I dunno, choosing us over being with other cats. I know your brother was kind of a smegpot but the others seemed nice enough? Sol and Luna and Peanut and that. You probably could’ve been happy with them.”

Cat straightened up suddenly and sat back, turning to regard Lister with a deathly serious expression on his face. “Trust me, bud,” he said. “I made the right call. Any group who decides to worship Goalpost Head as a god is not for me!”

Lister had to admit he had a point there. Cat definitely wouldn’t have yielded to any of that nonsense. Maybe before when it had been Lister but certainly not now that they had switched to Rimmer.

Relaxing again and returning his attention to his work, Cat inclined his head a little in something of a shrug. “Anyway it’s much easier here,” he went on. “Cats get competitive, always tryin’ to one-up each other. Here, I don’t even have to try to be the coolest guy on board.” He smiled cheekily, fangs glinting in the light. “But I do ‘cause a cat’s still gotta have standards.”

Lister’s face fell and his mouth hung open in wounded astonishment. “Hey, now, who said you were the coolest?” he said, and the note of offense in his tone was patently clear to hear.

Cat fixed him with an almost bored, dubious look, a single eyebrow raised, sceptically. “Who else is there?”

“Me for a start!” Lister cried, incredulous, holding out his arms and gesturing up and down at himself in all his scruffy, curry-stained glory. “Last human being alive, kickin’ it in deep space in me leather jacket and boots. I’m pretty cool, yeah?”

Cat’s face crumpled a little in a grimace, unimpressed and unconvinced, and then forced itself into a patronising, pitying smile. “If you say so, bud.”

He reached out, patted a hand dismissively, consolingly, on his shoulder and sat back. Lister rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright,” he said, conceding to the fact that where Cat was concerned he was never going to convince him any other way. “But you’re okay stayin’ here with us, yeah? You don’t regret it?”

“Hell no, bud!” Cat all but yelled, slamming a hand down on the desk and shaking his head vehemently. “Where else am I gonna find so much space? I’ve got several museums’ worth of storage space all to myself and trust me, bud,” – he winked, brown eyes twinkling – “I am gonna make use of it all!”

That tracked. Red Dwarf was huge, a ship the size of a city run now only by the four of them plus the newly reinstated Holly, and the majority of its rooms were empty, free real estate for a Cat with more clothes than most folks could ever dream of owning and free reign of wherever he chooses to store them. Lister had to admit that Cat would have had to be a fool to have given up on all that just to be crammed into a much smaller, much less spacious vessel with several other cats he didn’t know nearly half as well as Lister and the others. It really was no competition. He didn’t know why he’d even worried for a minute that Cat might have had second thoughts. Of course he didn’t. He never had.

“Well, good,” he said, hopping off the chair and making to head for the door. “Would get pretty dull around here if you left.”

Cat let out a low hoot of agreement. “Yeah, no kidding. You fools are lucky to have me around. I’m a luxury few can afford!”

A luxury few can stand, Lister imagined Rimmer would say bitterly in response to that and he smiled a little in mild amusement.

He turned to leave Cat to his work, ready to make his way back up to the living quarters to see if Rimmer had come back down to Earth yet but he paused in the doorway just short of exiting, an impish, wicked little smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. It was just too good to resist messing with the Cat just a little.

“I was only askin’, you know,” he began, angling his head just enough that he could see Cat out of the corner of his eye. “Because I thought you’d have leapt at the chance to woo all those cat ladies. I’m sure I saw a few of ‘em givin’ you the eye, too. Guess you missed out.”

Cat’s entire frame went rigid, his shoulders squared, and if he had resembled a classic cat a little more maybe his hair would have stood up on end too. Evidently, Lister had just dropped a bombshell, something he had overlooked, something he hadn’t considered and it had struck a particularly excruciating cord. If he hadn’t had any regrets before he certainly had them now.

“Aww, man!!” he yowled in anguished frustration and Lister couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled out of him nor the mischievous gerbil-like smile on his face as he left him to it.

Brutal.

#smegtober2023 #Red dwarf

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antipolin · 8 months

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Hello I love this blog so much I am certain I'll be coming back a few times to bring receipts and thoughts more than once so I'll like to be known as 🌷/Tulip!

I think you've covered most of the heinous things both Pen stans and the passive aggressive shit Nicola has done towards RJP and Simone but I would like to remind/refresh everyone's memory as to what she did to the first co-star she had a problem with: Ruby Barker. NC's passive aggressive comments sent crazy Pen stans to leave so much hate on Ruby's IG page, it drove Ruby to being hospitalised. No wonder she spoke up against the Marina discourse after she left the show. NC has consistently shown she has a huge problem with her costars of colour who she feels threatened by of outshining her. It's super gross. This post is pretty comprehensive about what happened: https://www.tumblr.com/viscountessevie/690551093581807616/i-noticed-her-tendencies-during-the-run-up-to?source=share

The blog also gives a pretty good rundown with receipts of things Pen and Nicola antics if anyone else wants to check out their Anti-Polin tag. (Note to anyone reading the post above and their blog: This is has been shared with their permission and they wanted to let yall know that most of the links in their posts are outdated due to a username change. They are working on correcting that slowly but most of the related posts can be found on the tags or in their archives) Also to any haters who love Polin stalking this page, don't bother sending that person hate, they have anon off and you will be blocked & deleted. No one has time for shitty bullshit or wanna give yall the attention you so badly crave. Speaking of yall, the asks hoping Simone and Jonny die (from AIDS no less wtf) is why everyone hates your fandom you racist and homophobic freaks. Those who claim they aren't like them are just as bad cos they enable it and keep quiet, pretending they didn't do it or chalk it down to a 'few bad apples' 🙄 Anyway thank you again for this space OP, I'm glad you're blocking the hate now but please do take breaks if you need it and take care of yourself!!

Tulip anon!!!!

The link for anyone who doesn't want to copy/paste it.

I plan on keeping anon on but I plan on just continuing to block and delete their messages without even reading them. Not my fault they claim I'm the 'pathetic' one and then spend all this time sending me hate.

Those who claim they aren't like them are just as bad cos they enable it and keep quiet, pretending they didn't do it or chalk it down to a 'few bad apples' BOOM THERE IT IS.

I appreciate it tulip anon! I will do that if necessary but these Polin's are very unoriginal with their hate that it's just borderline laughable really.

#anon #asks #anti Polin #anti Nicola Coughlan

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imoanurparentsnames · 7 months

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nts: [someone makes a mistake or does something stupid] youre so autistic

nts seeing an autistic person: wtf thats so weird why are you like that? youre supposed to be a genius and have a lack of empathy lol

autism is a complex neurotype (brain type). not all autistic ppl will act/behave in the same manner. some ppl like consistent routines, some like textures to be a certain way, some may struggle with executive dysfunction (and adhd ppl struggle w this too), some like stimming (stimulation, such as biting things, flapping hands, or moving repeatedly in a certain manner (eg rocking back and forth)). and others may have traits that don't fit this list. autistic ppl may not have a stereotypical lack of empathy, or special interest in trains, but that doesn't mean theyre less autistic. obvs some autistic people DO have a lack of empathy or special interest in trains, but not all. and spreading these harmful stereotypes hurts autistic ppl, especially misogyny affected people and people of colour (who already struggle getting diagnoses for things like adhd and autism because of masking or traits presenting differently)

(post inspired by @thediamondarcher)

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lgwifey · 2 years

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Hellooooo, I was wondering if I could get an Golden era Hp matchup and a Hunger games one too if that was okay.

I am an African American girl with 4c hair, my eyes are a deep Brown and my favourite colour is powder blue. My House is Ravenclaw, I have a septum piercing (I want more in the future) and I wear glasses but not overly thick ones. I like deers, alligators, bunnies, and all cute reptiles and fluffy things! My style is a little grunge and punk but I do love colours so I do switch up my style 24/7.

I'm a bit on the bigger side but no shame about it, I own a snake and I love music. I really want to become either a vet or a Biologist one day.

𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲.

Right, here me out with this one..

• Right so, you're the perfect matching opposites. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw. Soft, grunge. But you also have similar interests and are just super cute together.

• Youse only start dating in sixth year but become close really quickly. He thinks it's really cool that you have a piercing and your style, and that your American. He loves when its the weekends because he gets to see your personality through your outfits, seeing how the Ravenclaw uniform can only have so many small accessories added to it before Flitwick starts deducing house points.

• After a few months of you dating, Cedric would find his mornings consisted or arriving at your dorm, after sneaking past the portrait for 'prefect things'. He'd lounge about in your room and watch you doing your hair sometimes, still fasinated on how you managed to tame the small curls whilst he stuggled to keep his hair looking nice when it was hardly as hard to look after. Once he found out that you need to buy certain shampoos and conditioners, he saves up to get you a new set for Christmas.

• Okay so everyone knows that Hufflepuffs are loyal and kind and that Cedric would literally be the sweetest to you, but that doesn't stop him from stealing your glasses every now and then ~ "You don't need them ." "I'm just preparing to see how i'd look if my eye sight suddenly failed." *Rolls eyes* "You're actually blind, you know that right." *Snatches the glasses off of his face* ~. Anyways, in any other setting, he'd be the perfect gentleman. Also, idk if you like rock music (like Green Day or Nirvana or smthin) but introducing muggle rock to him would literally be the best. Like he'd just be so confused for a moment as to how exactly a walkman works but soon enough you wouldn't be able to get it back.

• Agh ! Right so he knows you love animals and when you tell him you have a pet he's like 'it's probably a bunny or something like that'. Then you reappear with a snake to show him and he's all like ... WTF. Anyways, soon enough he's become bestest buds with your pet and is drifing off in morning conversations to where the glass cage is set up in your dorm.

• He begs to move COMC classes so he can be with you. ~ "It's for my prefect duties." "Whatever Diggory " ~

• Dates happen at least once a week because Mr Diggory is a true romantic and won't let you go without time together since both of your friend groups aren't friends and pratically refuse to hang out with each other. It's mainly the Ravenclaws stereotyping the Hufflepuffs and the Hufflepuffs stereotyping the Ravenclaws. But they put their differences aside so you and Cedric can be happy together.

i'll tag the next part when it's done, i'm just trying to get through as many requests x

#match ups #match up #harry potter match up #harry potter #harry potter x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader

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aureliuzrex · 1 year

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Persona 5 Royal Review

This review has light game system spoilers and some story spoilers.

Persona 5 Royal is a special game to me not because it’s a Persona game, that’s a given, but because it looks and feels like a game designed from the ground up for me and me alone. I still remember the day the trailer for the original Persona 5 came out and I sent it to a friend of mine in excitement and he asked “wtf did they make this for you?”

The black and red colour scheme, the character designs, the focus on rebelling thieves who steal hearts, and the conversation of cognition affecting the perception of things around us. This was made for me. Yet, it is not a 10/10 or even my favourite Persona game. It might not even be my second favourite Persona game. So what happened? Where did this seemingly personally designed game fall short?

One of the biggest complaints people have about Persona 5 Royal is that it’s far too long. I agree, it simply is. If it were up to me it could be shortened by a large amount without affecting the story. In a lot of ways enhancing it by pacing it up. Personally speaking, I would have shortened the time in the palaces following the first one up to the last one (Base Game not 3rd semester). Cutting each palace to the length of a will seed and a half give or take and cutting the time between calling card deadlines to as short as a week or two.

The other big criticism Persona 5 Royal gets is that it’s too easy. The merciless difficulty is more of a fun crazy mix-up style mode with the “Hard” difficulty being the actual hardest difficulty in the game. A large reason people feel this way is because some of the Confidant abilities are ridiculously powerful. Chariot Rank 7 and Strength Rank 5 for example. These are ranks you can reach fairly early in the game too. I feel this issue could be fixed by implementing the fix to the game time issue.

Shortening the time in palaces and between them will force players to be pickier with who they spend time with. Making powerful Confidant unlocks come in slower and spread throughout the game. Thus making the difficulty curve not suddenly dip so early in the game. The more powerful confidant abilities aren’t too powerful on their own. It’s when they get stacked onto each other too early on in the game that they have escalating results. Chariot Rank 7 is borderline mandatory for a game as long as Persona 5 Royal. Without it, you can add another 40 hours or so onto an already 100+ hour game. That’s just unreasonable to anyone who isn’t chronically online.

Those are the 2 big issues I see brought up the most consistently when it comes to Persona 5 Royal. That being said there is a more interesting issue that is brought up with the game which I also find I agree with. That is that Persona 5 Royal is style over substance. We have to rebel against society and the system only to then live and rely on that very same society and system which sits fundamentally unchanged by the end of the game. Ignoring the fact that things only changed because you rebelled at all to then do a 180 and lean into the idea that change can be made through societal means. The whole game was spent showing us that doesn’t work in a corrupt system. A corrupt system we actively need to rebel against to see actual change. Aside from the main point of The Phantom Thieves, even the big meaningful questions and angles in the story kind of get brushed over a little too often.

Let’s explore if a certain final boss is actually correct or not. Let’s have The Phantom Thieves disagree and take differing stances. Have Joker persuade the group over a longer period of time and maybe confront members in different ways. Instead, the game handles all this in about 3 days and in a bit of a deus ex machina moment where The Phantom Thieves suddenly remember everything, and all of them side with Joker unanimously. I would have loved to explore this further. I would have also loved to have more time with the final boss of the game who might be one of the best villain characters in gaming. It’s debatable to even call him a villain but that’s a whole other conversation.

My last issue with the game is that there is far too much to do. Between all the confidants, reading books, doing laundry, dating your teacher, going to school. There’s just too much going on at any given time. In Persona 3 and 4 you still had a lot of player choice and freedom at any given time but it didn’t feel overbearing and oppressive. Persona 5 Royal does have a case of content creep where they kept adding things on and on to the point it feels a little bloated in more ways than the length of the game itself. Even as a Persona vet, I feel a lot of pressure trying to juggle everything that’s going on when I play Persona 5 Royal. Personally speaking, I think Persona 4 Golden nailed the balance of day-to-day gameplay. Where there was always something to do but I didn’t feel the need to write down everything to make sense of it.

All while not giving off that horrible feeling of not being optimal. Like I might have made the wrong choice or I am missing out on something. There is a cool feature in the game that shows you what other players decided to do on that day. I think it’s a great addition to help with the bloat of the game. That being said, Persona 4 Golden made me feel like I was making a choice because I wanted to make it. Persona 5 Royal on the other hand makes me feel like if I’m not optimal then I am messing up. I do understand a good portion of this could be a “me problem” but at the same time, this is the biggest complaint I’m seeing from my friends jumping into the series for the first time with Persona 5 Royal.

As a Persona vet, I can look past a lot of the issues I brought up here and still very much enjoy the game. But it ends up being a game I can’t recommend to friends or even non-Persona fans because I feel it is far too much of an ask of them. Anyone of the issues I stated can be looked past individually but together it ends up being overwhelming to anyone who’s not chronically online or a Persona vet. This is why I usually recommend earlier Persona titles over Persona 5 Royal. Persona 3, 4, and even the 2 duology end up being much better starting points. They are shorter games that ask far less of the player. Persona 1 I don’t recommend because I feel it has not aged well to anyone who isn’t a Persona or JRPG fan. It is the game most in need of some kind of modern revamp.

Now let’s talk about the good. I think Persona 5 Royal has the best all-around cast in a Persona game. To me, they feel the most dynamic and all-around interconnected. With maybe Haru being the only exception. She seems to not have much of a place in the group outside of when she was introduced. Following that palace, she could have even left the party entirely and I wouldn’t have noticed. I think this again could be fixed by pacing the game up. She just comes in far too late to the party with far too little interaction prior. You have characters who enter the party after Haru but since we were already interacting with them prior it feels very natural to have them join and they also feel much more like part of the team. Other than Haru I really like this particular party. I mean no disrespect to Haru either. It’s just for a 100+ hour game they couldn’t find the time to let me get to know her.

Persona 5 Royal has the best style and looks out of all the Persona games. Red and Black is my thing from a colour scheme standpoint so I’m going to be biased there. Even aside from that this game just looks amazing. The character models, Persona designs, transitions, and movement-to-moment gameplay. Rating this on its own would be a 10/10 from me. Persona 5 Royal will age amazingly too. This game will continue to look great in 10+ years.

The overall story and concepts are excellent. Being quite a juxtaposition to Persona 4 Golden where you were basically magical high school investigators. In Persona 5 Royal you are magical high school thieves. Between the two I would say Persona 4 Golden was all around tighter and delivered better, with a better understanding and representation of its own concepts. Actually, this is how I feel about Persona 4 Golden vs Persona 5 Royal when it comes to the games themselves let alone the story and concepts but I digress. Persona 5 Royal still pulls its weight. People like to say it’s style over substance and they aren’t wrong. They barely scratch the surface of the concepts they bring up in an over 100-hour game. You would think they would dive a little deeper into things with a run time like that but I can’t say it doesn’t leave you satisfied. Also, I mean there’s nothing wrong with style. If you can’t have substance you might as well have style and Persona 5 Royal has style to spare. I should also add I am a Joker fanboy. I love his design and character. I simply think he’s really cool. I mean the guy got into Smash Bros so there’s got to be people who agree with me. I know there is a lot of Persona hipster who hate Joker but cry about it on the forums. I think he’s awesome.

The confidant system in this game formally known as “Social Links” is the new standard for the Persona games. I can’t see them going back to the more basic social links = Persona level's way of doing things from the earlier games. The bonuses we get in Royal are powerful, fun, and interesting. Even if a little overpowered. That being said this is mostly from Persona vets and people who have replayed the game multiple times. I have a few friends of mine who started playing Persona 5 Royal as their first Persona game. Not knowing what the most powerful confidant ranks are made for a more balanced gameplay experience.

Overall I really enjoy Persona 5 Royal. It’s far from perfect but it’s still one of the best JRPG games I ever played. There’s so much to do and experience. It’s not a masterpiece but it should be.

9.1/10

P.S. Akechi is cool.

Also sorry about complaining about the length of the game so much.

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