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zwy01 · 4 months

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Arya doodles!!!

Aww my poor, poor girl. It’s her time to be given love and lots of hugs.

This is my OC, Arya K. Landegre! She is Regis and Rael’s daughter, and the former’s heir.

I haven’t gone in depth with her backstory yet, so I’m going to do that here. She’s one of my 15 “main” characters of my Millennium AU and her full bio is up in my pinned post.

I’ll be mentioning some other names in here too so to quickly recap, Arya is the younger one of the two Regis/Rael kids and her full-sibling and elder brother is Raegyn Kertia. (Arya has three half-siblings, with her elder half-brother Kaelestis Blerster on Rael’s side, and younger half-brother Garyth J. Loyard and younger half-sister Alethea J. Loyard on Regis’ side.) Arya has a pretty good relationship with her loving family, but it is a hard-earned one with a rocky beginning and a long, arduous journey. I’ll be explaining exactly why in a bit. Yay!!!

I love Arya for how dynamic she is and I’ve barely mentioned the more detailed stuff so here we are! My sweet Ari’s (almost) full backstory.

We already know that Arya is the odd one out in her generation. Among her fellow future Clan Leaders, Arya stands out as the one that is the least noble-like. She’s cringy, loud, fidgety, and most of all you just can’t get her to behave herself like a proper noble. If Lukedonia had yearbooks, she’d be nominated as the class clown. Hey, being so stiff all the time isn’t fun, right? I mean, just look at that freakishly long lifespan nobles have. You’re saying you’re gonna be around for at least a few more millennia, yet being uptight is the only way you know how, huh? Pfft, not in Arya’s watch. She’s gonna show you what real fun is, by ditching all formalities in favor of “you know, just winging it!”. After all, life is boring without a little improvisation every now and then. And if that means leaving your comfort zone, then Arya will be the one to hold your hand and guide you through your newfound fun. In a sense, Arya is the opposite of her big brother Raegyn Kertia. Raegyn loves to plan every little detail of his life, making sure to never go off track for even the tiniest of things, while Arya likes to live spontaneously. The past won’t hold her back, and the future does not concern her either. Any problems or consequences that arise, she will leave it to her “future self”. Duh. On many occasions, Raegyn had attempted to teach Arya the importance of planning things and the concept of delayed gratification, to no avail. Whatever he tells her seems to go in one ear and out the other. It’s Arya, what else did you expect from her? She’s just going to giggle and shrug it off. They are not too worried about her though, because she seems to be able to find a good balance in life despite her carefree nature, so they let her be. I mean, she is pretty wild, but it’s not like she’s going to burn down the forest or steal artifacts from the treasury for fun, right? Yeah, no way that’s going to happen. Mhm. Huh. Wait… hold up. Actually, forget it. She might. It’s unlikely though. Well, she doesn’t do that anymore. Anymore? What exactly does that mean? That’s where it gets interesting, so sit back and enjoy.

Remember in my last post about Raegyn where I said that Regis and Rael were super relieved that their Arya was a normal child with normal development, and not a “special” child like their difficult son? They were right about their daughter… at least partially. Regis and Rael waited for almost two centuries before having their second child. Their first child Raegyn gave them a hard time because he was too much of an outlier with his unmatched super intelligence. After Arya was born, and for some time in her early childhood, Regis and Rael had their eyes on her all the time, vigilantly watching for any signs that would show that she’s not an average child, and in turn they would give her the extra support she needs. And they waited. And waited. Thankfully, those signs never showed up. Whew. They could finally relax, as they only needed to deal to with Raegyn, and it seemed like they could raise Arya like they would with a normal child. Arya was average, in a good way. She was a bit too lively and feisty at times, but that’s not a big deal. She’s a kid, after all. Who doesn’t like an energetic kid? Regis and Rael had to discipline her occasionally, but other than that, they didn’t need to do much. They had a good time together as a family, and everyone was certain that Arya had a bright future ahead of her. Or, that’s what they thought. Uh oh.

Turns out her parents overlooked her feistiness, and there was a deeper underlying issue. This became more apparent as Arya grew a bit older, when she reached the human equivalent of a ten year old. At this point it wasn’t as simple as kiddie tantrums anymore. Regis and Rael found it increasingly difficult to discipline their daughter and calm her down when she got all worked up. Arya had a short fuse. A very short one. She was joyful and radiant, just as much as she had a big temper. She cried when she didn’t get what she wanted, she screamed when her parents gave Raegyn a millisecond more of attention than they did to her, and kicked and shoved and knocked things off tables when something simply wasn’t to her liking. And when she felt uneasy, she couldn’t stay still and was always pacing around, fidgeting, or both. And that’s when Regis and Rael finally understood what’s going on, when they realized that Arya may be even more difficult than their already difficult son.

If we’re being nice, then we can say that Arya has a… very strong personality. If we’re being honest, then Arya is a major pain in the ass. It’s as simple as that. She is only fun for as long as she doesn’t spiral into one of her tantrums, before her parents, Raegyn, or someone else needs to step in to physically restrain her until she calms down. And it’s worth noting that Regis and Rael were not neglectful or anything. They were attentive and loving parents who did their best to ensure that their daughter had everything she needed. It’s just that Arya happened to inherit several of her parents’ less desirable personality traits. Mix and match, boom. A recipe for disaster. Arya inherited Regis’ stubbornness, and Rael’s tendency to be possessive, jealous, and impulsive. Regis is more flexible now, and even Rael has shown massive improvement and growth, and doesn’t act like he did in his youth anymore. But Arya was only a child. She was still young, and she has yet to go through centuries of practice. Regis and Rael were really trying their hardest, but their daughter just didn’t seem to show any signs of improvement. For now, they’ll just keep trying in hopes that their little Ari would get better eventually. Maybe they were even in denial, as they didn’t like the possibility of Arya not being able to grow out of her “phase”, so to speak.

Despite the less positive aspects of her personality, kiddie Arya loved her parents very much, and she made sure to let them know. Raegyn’s situation was an entirely different case, as Regis and Rael parented him in a very unconventional way that didn’t quite resemble the dynamics of a typical parent-child relationship. On the other hand, Arya’s bond with her parents strongly resembled that of a typical parent-child relationship. She absolutely adored both her fathers, and loved being their baby. To little Arya, they were her everything. And they still are now. Regis and Rael are delighted with how their daughter loves them so much and how she never hesitates to express her love. The two of them didn’t really feel the same sentiment coming from their first child Raegyn during his childhood, and Raegyn still is kind of aloof as an adult. (They know that Raegyn loves them too, but Raegyn just never really bothered with the excessively sentimental stuff) To be honest, Raegyn is relieved that his sister is here to divert his parents’ attention so they don’t “loiter” around him all the time, and he can finally get some of that long desired freedom. And his sister being difficult doesn’t bother him because she is their parents’ kid, not his, so she’s not his problem. At most he’ll just step in when he needs to pretend to be a good big brother, or when his parents ask him to.

And Arya? She loves her brother dearly, and knows that he loves her too. Brother Rayray is nice. He reads books to Ari and gives Ari candies. He teaches Ari how to play games. He’s all good …until the very moment he gets more attention from their parents. Then she’s not so enthusiastic about him anymore. Do you see where I am getting at. As much as Arya adores Raegyn, she doesn’t actually mind how Raegyn is often absent during “family bonding time” because guess what? She can have her fathers alllll to herself. Maybe it’s even a good thing, even if it is one she can’t say out loud.

Arya is totally a daddy’s girl for both of her fathers. The two of them have different roles. Rael is the “fun” parent. Yes, Arya is his sweet little girl and he’s forever grateful for her very existence, but above all else, he sees himself in her. As difficult as Arya can be sometimes, she bears extreme resemblance to Rael and he loves her for that. Rael doesn’t mind Arya being a little feisty because he was like that in his youth too, and he turned out alright, didn’t he? Maybe he’s even proud of her for being so “lively”. That’s right, she’s his little girl! Arya is nearly identical to Rael in both looks and personality. If only she had the Kertia blonde as well, her parents joke. In addition, since the beginning, Rael had desperately wanted a child to pour all his love into, but Raegyn wasn’t quite what he had expected, so he didn’t get to experience the typical joy of parenting. Then Arya came along. Arya adored him, admired him, and stuck to him like a piece of gum. She practically glued herself onto her Kertia daddy.

Rael is of course absolutely overjoyed, and responded by showering her with every ounce of affection in his system. He often lets Arya indulge herself in things, and gives in to her begging. He spoils Arya by sneaking her out of class early, letting her stay past bedtime, slipping an extra cookie when Regis isn’t looking... etc. Anything to see his little girl put on a big, big smile and hear her say “thank you Daddy” with enthusiasm. Perhaps he went a little too overboard, and the spoiling became a bit excessive. But hey, Rael just can’t help it. In a way, whatever he wished he could’ve done but didn’t get to do with Raegyn, he fulfilled through Arya. Arya basically gets double of everything. And she’s just too cute. I mean, she’s a chip off the old block! Rael continues the spoiling well into Arya’s teen years. This does eventually snowball into a bigger problem, which will be addressed later.

On the other hand, Regis is the “strict” parent. For most of the time, he lets Rael have fun with Arya because he knows how deeply Rael cherishes that affectionate bond with their daughter. At the same time Regis never misses the chance to discipline Arya when she needs it. Kiddie Raegyn was very self-sufficient and preferred independence over being “parented”; Arya was not, and needed plenty of parental support and behavioral correction. Sorry kiddo, no more skipping classes for you, and whining won’t make demands come true. Jokes aside, other than being the rule enforcing parent, Regis is very, very affectionate with Arya and they have an extremely close father-daughter relationship. Lovely. Regis can be proud of himself. He used to get flustered at something as simple as getting his head patted by (his basically adopted sister) Seira, and now he is actually pretty comfortable with giving and receiving both physical and emotional affection. One of Arya’s favorite things to do as a kid was running her little fingers through Regis’ hair and playing with his black streaks, and then happily pointing at her own streaks while exclaiming “I’m a Landegre!” To which Regis would smile and respond, “yes, my little Ari”. Aww, how precious. Arya takes great pride in being Regis’ daughter and heir. She is her daddy’s successor, the great Regis K. Landegre!

While it’s true that Arya tends to go to her Kertia daddy when she wants to get the okays to break rules or have some relatively reckless fun, it is Regis who is her favorite. Sorry Rael. He doesn’t have to know Regis is Arya’s number one. Period. Has always been, and will always be. As soon as Arya could recognize her surroundings, Regis became the center of her world. If she admired Rael, then she idolized Regis. She loved him, she worshipped him, she put him on a pedestal. Yeah. That person over there. You see him? He’s Ari’s Landegre daddy! How sweet. It doesn’t matter if Regis didn’t let her overindulge in things, or that he’s less lenient with her misbehaving at times. Everything Regis believes in and does, is right. No arguments. Maybe she’d even get offended on his behalf if anyone tried to question him. Regis is her idol, and she’d follow in his footsteps even if she honestly doesn’t feel too much enthusiasm towards clan duties and whatnots. Young Arya actually had her parents taken by surprise when she showed that, after all, she was capable of sitting through an entire afternoon of Regis walking her through Landegre CL duties without fidgeting or complaining much. For a restless child like her, it’s an unusual and incredible feat, because she doesn’t display this extent of patience when it comes to other matters. Responsibilities and expectations, future Clan Leader, blah blah blah… even if these things didn’t really interest Arya, she’d do it for daddy dearest. Anything for Regis. She’s totally obsessed with him. Many even too obsessed. And this obsession is the catalyst for many unfortunate events to come. Remember how I said she inherited Rael’s tendency to be possessive, jealous, and impulsive? Yep, exactly that.

Fast forward to Arya’s teen years. When Arya was around the human equivalent of 13-14 year old, she “learned” about Regis’ drastically shortened lifespan. This was around the time her younger half-siblings Garyth and Alethea were born. Initially, Regis had intended to donate only one soul fragment to Seira for the birth of her heir, but their combined soul fragments unexpectedly split into two separate, unstable pieces and Regis didn’t have the heart to let the smaller piece perish. So in an attempt to save it, as it was dying, he extracted another soul fragment from himself and gave it to the smaller piece that would later become Alethea. He succeeded. They succeeded. But the unexpected extra soul fragment extraction shortened his lifespan even more. Three soul fragment extractions is already pushing the limits for noble standards. Four? That’s unheard of. Regis didn’t have much longer to live. Uh oh. Arya is definitely not going to take this well.

And this is not due to Arya previously being oblivious to the mechanism behind noble birth or anything. All nobles know that having children would shorten one’s lifespan. They understood how it worked, and that a noble’s lifespan would roughly halve for each child etc. Arya knew this as well. However, she only started to really think about it once her half-siblings were born, because she never really saw Regis that way. All this time she had been busy obsessing over him and putting him on a pedestal. She had been way too in love with the concept of him being her father to the point where she basically almost completely forgot about the fact that no, he indeed won’t be around forever. Regis is not immortal. To make matters worse, not only was Regis not immortal, he also doesn’t have much left. Time is ticking. Regis is dying. Her daddy, her idol, her world — he’s dying. The shock comes from the realization, perhaps one that is a little too late. It’s also important to note that Regis did not consult with either of his children regarding his decision to contribute what is essentially his lifespan to Seira’s heir. Regis had only spoken with his husband Rael regarding this matter and both of them agreed that his contribution to Seira would be a good idea. After all, Seira is family to Regis. Of course he would help her with her heir. By both Lukedonian law and common practice, neither juvenile nor adult children are entitled to any input when it comes to one or both of their parents’ decision to donate more soul fragments or just having more children in general. Parents don’t need to say anything to their existing children. No one owes anyone explanations. That’s just how things are.

Though, on a personal level, that’s where things get complicated. The Regis/Rael kids only learned about their half-siblings after their birth. Raegyn’s reaction upon hearing the news was just… nothing. He simply raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and gave a fake smile. Neat. Sure, more siblings, though they aren’t his problem, they’re Seira’s, so he doesn’t care. And while Raegyn loves Regis, he respects Regis’ decision (and his parents’ collective agreement) about what Regis wants to do with his lifespan. If he wanted to shave off more years for the sake of his family aka Seira, then go for it. To be honest, Raegyn probably isn’t even attached enough to Regis for him to care. Arya on the other hand… oh boy.

Unlike Raegyn, who was calm and supportive, Arya did not take it well. In fact, she took it quite personally. Very personally. Extremely personally. Upon the initial news delivery of her half-siblings’ birth, she was shocked. Arya went numb, and didn’t seem to have any reaction at all. It took her a whole day to process the information and then it hit her. She excused herself and locked herself in her room. Witnesses recalled how the horrific, explosive screams that seemed to have come from the Landegre manor did not stop for an entire week. There was some sobbing, some hysterical laughing, but mostly screams. Screams much, much worse than what you’d imagine would come from tortured souls from the depths of hell. Bystanders could feel the sheer force of anger and despair in the very core of those screams just by listening. And not once did Arya think of using her noble powers for noise canceling. It may have even been deliberate, as she wanted the whole world to know that she’s upset, even if she won’t actually say why. Even her own parents can’t seem to get her to talk. The screams only stopped when Arya grew too tired and passed out in exhaustion for another week. People eventually forgot that this had happened, and simply shrugged it off as one of her “usual tantrums”. It was only oddly timed, because it happened right after her half-siblings were born, but other than that, no big deal, right? Then they’re wrong. Very, very wrong. Raegyn knows why because he is more than smart enough to tell. He doesn’t care, though.

Arya felt betrayed. Regis betrayed her. He betrayed her by giving his lifespan away without even telling her. He never once asked for her opinion, and he didn’t even bother to notify her of the decision, as if it was never a big deal to start with. Rael betrayed her as well. He betrayed her by not stopping Regis, because he clearly had a part in the final decision, right? Arya knows she has no claim over how Regis plans to use his lifespan, but still… she is his daughter, their daughter, and she had every reason to be upset with Regis literally handing away his life, the very life which he was supposed to spend with her. Both Regis and Rael betrayed her. Her fathers, her daddies, the two of them — both of them — turned their backs on her just like that. Yet Arya could not bring this up to either of them. She just can’t. She can’t tell them she’s upset. She did not know how to approach this subject, neither did she have any clue on how to sort out her rampaging questions and feelings. The mere thought of this clutter of a mess makes her feel sick. Her stomach sinks, and her chest aches. A deep, pulsating ache that seems to spread to every corner of her body. When she thinks she has worked up the courage to say it out loud, the clutter lodges in her throat and she loses the ability to speak. She physically can’t say those words. Her muscles tense up, and she starts sweating. She tries to speak those words but nothing comes out despite her moving her mouth. Only an inaudible, croaky cry. And then she’ll tear up. It’s impossible. She just can’t. Arya can’t ask any questions, her one thousand why’s. Why, why, why, why, just… why. Ari knows that Seira is daddy’s family too, and daddy wants to help her and show her his support… but isn’t Ari also daddy’s family? She is his daughter and heir, and she should’ve been his top priority. Was she, in his eyes, not important enough for him to not give away a portion of his lifespan just like that? Did he even think of her when he extracted the soul fragments from himself?? Can he really bear the thought of leaving her behind, before she is ready to face this world by herself??? Does he even care…? These thoughts and questions would continue to torment her for the longest of times. You’d probably ask, why can’t Regis and Rael just read her mind? Well, they certainly tried. They failed. They couldn’t see anything when they attempted to read their distressed daughter’s mind. It probably had something to do with Arya’s defensive mechanism, where she had unconsciously formed some sort of intangible barrier that prevented people from reading her mind.

Regis and Rael did not know how to comfort their daughter, as she just wouldn’t tell them why she’s upset, and they see nothing when they read her mind. All they can do is give her hugs when she asks for them. Especially Regis. Arya would bury her face into his chest and cry for hours. He can only softly stroke her head and give her gentles pats on her back, hoping that it would ease whatever pain his daughter is experiencing. Not a word spoken from either one of them, with Arya’s occasional inaudible mumbles breaking the silence. And Raegyn? He’s completely out of the picture. He hates anything emotional, which includes dealing with the feelings of others, even when it comes to his sister. Raegyn nopes the hell out of their home as soon as Arya gets worked up, so he doesn’t have to pretend to be nice and comfort her. Every single time. Poof and he’s gone, and you can guarantee that you won’t be able to find him until Arya is finished with her business. Though Regis, Rael, and Arya herself are probably too busy to notice Raegyn is missing.

Arya’s impeding grief shouldn’t be taken lightly. All bottled up along with her grief is her anger, sadness and confusion. It will accumulate, and might as well kill her one day. All that energy has to be released somewhere right? Telling her family isn’t an option because she simply can’t. Her friends and acquaintances… they might react negatively. She can’t say for sure, but she is hesitant about opening up to them about this sensitive subject. And great-grandfather Gejutel is too busy, who knows if he’ll even care. And all the other adults aren’t trustworthy enough in Arya’s eyes. There was no one she could go to. Arya was alone. Arya was desperate. She once was the happiest girl on the planet. She had loving parents, and a nice big brother. There was nothing else she wished for. She only wanted life to stay as it is, with Regis as the center of her world. Regis, Regis, Regis. Her number one. And now he’s dying, by his own choice, albeit indirectly. He had about less than two thousand years left. Even then two thousand years by itself is a long time. Not for Arya. She could spend all eternity with Regis if she could. If Regis didn’t extract two more fragments from himself, he would have had around eight thousand years left. There’s nothing Regis can do, there’s nothing anyone can do. There’s nothing Arya can do. She’d give up part of her own lifespan and transfer it to her father if she could, if that means getting to spent more time with him, but that is impossible. Even if she could, she just knows Regis would never let one of his own children cut their lifespan short just so he could live for longer. It should be the other way, if any. Ugh. Regis is too kind and too generous for his own good. There was nothing left for Arya to do, except to accept the truth and deal with it. But Arya didn’t want to. There has to be another way. She felt cornered. And then she snapped.

The first obvious change was Arya’s newfound apathy regarding her clan. Arya completely lost interest in the Landegres. She stopped caring about her status as future Clan Leader. Clan duties, managing her future clan members, paperwork, leadership training… none of that mattered to her anymore. At first she only had occasional absences. Those grew into frequent absences, and in the end she skipped her lessons altogether. She just stopped showing up. She was never genuinely interested in these things to start with. She made herself sit through all that boring, repetitive nonsense for Regis’ sake, and if her daddy isn’t going to be around for much longer, then she doesn’t want to partake in this anymore. Arya is determined to just ditch it all. And she isn’t even bad at being future Clan Leader. She is pretty average at most things, but she is a hard worker. Without talent, she makes it up with effort. Now that Regis will be gone soon, none of this means anything to her anymore. We’re talking about almost two centuries of hard work that Arya is ready to abandon. If Regis can choose to leave her behind, then she can choose to leave all of this behind too. Her parents and Lukedonia’s general population are very worried about her sudden change in attitude, but all they could do is to hold their breath and hope that the passionate Arya would come back one day.

The second, and perhaps even worse than the first, is Arya turning towards causing trouble for the sake of trouble. Arya is already naturally prone to recklessness and impulsivity thanks to getting those personality traits from Rael. All these years she’s been trying her best to control herself, albeit with limited degrees of success. The point is at least she tried. Now take that, and actually give Arya a reason to not work hard to behave herself anymore. From her perspective, she is justified to do as she pleases because Regis betrayed her trust. The world betrayed her trust. Her acting out and being a menace made sense. She’s just responding accordingly. Yeah. Exactly that. Lukedonia can’t complain, no one can complain, because they gave her no choice. They forced her into this, and now they have to deal with her whether they like it or not. If they can’t handle her, it’s not her problem.

And I would like to mention a key difference between Raegyn and Arya. It is one that defines them and sets them apart, and that is the gap between their maximum capacity and potential when it comes their character. Raegyn is the outlier. His intelligence, flexibility, and social skills are all top tier. He is basically built for success. That’s just what he was born with. You can say he was blessed with everything he needs in this life. Not only is Raegyn academically gifted, he is also extremely smart with people. Raegyn knows how to order around, and his friends targets don’t even know that they’re being manipulated by him. He is also more than smart enough to get away with committing crime and being a real danger, if that is what he wishes to entertain himself with. Except he isn’t interested in that stuff. He has the potential to be dangerous, but he isn’t.

This is where Arya comes in. Arya is average. She is average compared to Raegyn, and she is average by herself. Her intelligence? Average. Her social skills? Average. Her fighting prowess? Better than most of Lukedonia, but when compared to her fellow future Clan Leaders, average. Arya is simply… average. She wasn’t spectacular at anything, nor was she severely lacking. She simply was. And depending on how you look at things, this could be both good and bad. In Arya’s case, it’s definitely bad. Why? Because now Arya wants to wreak havoc just because. Except she isn’t nearly as smart as she needs to be to execute it in the way that would keep herself out of trouble. Combine that with her impulsivity, and what you get is an unpredictable, unstable person who is reckless enough to get herself into trouble but isn’t smart enough to get herself out of it. Arya is also bossy like Rael. She likes to control people, except unlike Raegyn, she isn’t smart enough to know how to order around. If Raegyn uses brains, then Arya uses force. Raegyn gains control over people by being smart. Arya isn’t capable of mimicking even just a fraction of that. That is why Raegyn is popular while Arya has a debatable reputation among her people. And just like Rael, Arya isn’t the best at dealing with being told “no” by others. Yiiiiikes.

And here’s the deal. Arya is average. We know that. Is Arya aware? Perhaps. She isn’t dumb enough to not know that she is in fact average. She knows what her limits are. Does knowing that stop her from being a menace? No. Arya doesn’t care. Who cares if she isn’t smart enough. If she wants to cause trouble, then she will cause trouble. Consequences are for later. They do not concern her. Nothing is going to stop her, and nothing can stop her. The stubbornness she got from Regis is certainly running its gears here, for the worst.

What exactly does Arya do? The list could go on forever. A few of her more “notable” and favorite crimes to commit include arson, blackmail, bribery, forgery, theft, and vandalism. Out of those, arson, theft, and vandalism stand out the most.

Arson. Arya needed to let out all that bottled up anger, and she turned to setting things on fire. It didn’t involved anyone else, and she could do it without other people noticing. If she’s going to turn to crime, then she can start with something “simple” and ease her way into bigger, more satisfying ordeals. That’s why the very first spell Arya masters is an ignition spell. The Landegres aren’t a magic aligned clan, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t learn a few spells. It first started with smaller things that didn’t matter as much. Pages from her notebook, a childhood toy, old clothes, things that are going to the trash anyway, etc. Items she wouldn’t miss, that no one would miss. How cathartic. It didn’t numb her pain of Regis’ impeding passing, but it was better than nothing. She could imagine that she is watching the world burn. And when she got comfortable with burning smaller items, she moved onto bigger items. Burning less important items no longer gave her the satisfaction she needed. So she looked for more. A couch. A closet. A statue. An abandoned cabin. A small patch of forest in the Loyard territory. It goes exactly where you think. Things spiraled out of control. And the thing is Arya only bothered to learn an ignition spell, and not a counter-spell for it. Arya had to cry for help because she realized that the entire forest will burn down soon if no one intervened. The nobles who responded were able to put out the fire just in time before it reached the Loyard manor. And Arya? She was punished for it. Her Clan Leader issued the punishment himself. But she was still a juvenile, so she didn’t get what she arguably deserved, which is a punishment befitting of her crime if she were an adult. Will this stop Arya from committing more arson? No.

Theft. Arya also began to steal. At first it started with sneaking less valuable items out of people’s pockets. Things people wouldn’t immediately realize have disappeared, and by the time they wanted to looked for them, they were long gone. All in Arya’s possession. And, you guessed it, stealing smaller items was no longer enough for Arya. Then Arya moved onto stealing bigger things. She targeted items that potentially had high sentimental value. We’re talking diaries, jewelry, lockets, portraits, even old cooking pans. The mere thought of people breaking down and panicking over lost items was amusing to her. Sweet sweet. Of course the pain they would feel is not nearly enough to compare to what she has to go through when it comes to her dying daddy, but it’s better than nothing. They better cry. Be in pain, just like her. If she couldn’t be happy, then none of them should. Just like with Arya’s arson crimes, her stealing things got out of hand real quick and soon Arya was breaking into various clans’ treasuries and smuggling important statues and sculptures out of there and into her home. Except Arya isn’t exactly smart, like I mentioned earlier. She’s not at all an expert it comes to covering her tracks, and on her second break-in attempt in the Blerster territory, she got caught in the act by none other than Karias Blerster himself. Karias handed Arya to Regis and he had to punish her again. When he searched her room, they found many, many other stolen items and Regis made sure to make her return them to their respective owners before he grounded her. Again, like before, is this going to stop Arya from committing theft again? Haha, no.

Vandalism. At this point Arya didn’t even bother to be discreet anymore. If she’s not smart enough to get away with anything she does, then she might as well stop all attempt to cover her tracks. Committing crime was her outlet, and she needed it. No one was going to take that away from her. Hell, if she can’t give up committing crime as her primary coping mechanism, then she’s just going to accept that that’s her new life. She might even be petty enough to announce that she is behind whatever chaotic shit is going on. Smashed a window? She would smear “Arya was here” on the walls with her blood. Sabotaged a garden full of herbs and other important plants? She would rearrange the uprooted and trampled plants to spell “Haha losers” for garden’s owner to witness. Destroyed part of a building? She would stand on the roof and laugh and laugh and laugh, and scream “come catch me you suckers!”as she waves her arms around. Again, Regis would be the one to punish her. He doesn’t understand why Arya suddenly turned to delinquency. Does she really enjoy being a criminal? Is this Arya’s true nature…? Neither Regis nor Rael know that Arya is simply doing this to cope with Regis’ shortened lifespan. They are not aware of the fact that this is her coping mechanism. It isn’t a justified one, for sure, but still. They do not know her true motives, and she seems to be reluctant when questioned.

In no time, Arya became notorious for being criminal. Moods were ruined and atmospheres were spoiled as soon as her name was brought up. A rumor began to circulate, one that said that if you said Arya’s name, your home would light up in flames. There was a collective sentiment among the nobles where they all agreed that they couldn’t wait for Arya to come of age so she can be tried as an adult.

Raegyn is rather unhappy with his younger sister’s… newfound hobbies. She is indirectly affecting his social life because now people just want to ask about his “delinquent sister”. That’s all they want to talk about. Dammit, it’s not his fault his sister has a “underdeveloped prefrontal cortex”, as he puts it. Thankfully he is rational enough to not say that out loud. Arya doesn’t need to know.

And Regis? Regis tries everything he can to correct and put Arya’s behavior to a permanent stop. And he fails spectacularly. He tried being nice with the gentle approach. He also tried the stern and authoritarian approach. Him questioning Arya would usually result in two endings, with Arya either pretending she can’t hear him and covering her ears and singing lalala, or she’ll burst into tears and sob uncontrollably. Regis could tell that those tears were genuine, but he just couldn’t get Arya to talk. Her confessing to the motives behind her crimes wouldn’t lighten her punishments, but at least Regis could have an answer as to why she is acting like this. In the end, nothing works. Regis seems to begin to lose hope in his daughter. His patience and faith in Arya started to wane. As much as Regis still loves her, he couldn’t recognize his little girl anymore. Regis is heartbroken.

Things aren’t any better for Rael. Remember when I said that Rael is the parent who spoils Arya? Well, things took an even worse turn. Arya started to bring up Rael during verbal interrogations. She ran out of excuses to bullshit, and then… she recalls stories about Rael being a former criminal, like him blowing up a portion of the castle when Seira rejected his proposal. Aha. The perfect excuse. She can just say she’s just like Rael. Can’t help it, it’s in her blood. What can she do, she’s her Kertia daddy’s daughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Something like that. He can soften the blow for her. And then Rael inevitably gets roped into dealing with Arya’s destructive behaviors. Of course Arya is the perpetrator, and Rael is not part of it. But still, he does have some things from his old days on his criminal record, so… to say that people have zero suspicions, would be a lie. Surely he knows better than to prompt his daughter to indulge in crime for funsies. But who knows? Rael had to clear the common suspicions by punishing his little girl himself. Usually, he is not the one to issue her punishments as Arya is a Landegre and he is a Kertia, which leaves Regis as the ultimate decision maker. And Lord Raskreia too, but only if Arya’s crimes escalates to that level, which Rael hopes will never come true. In addition, Rael has a soft spot for Arya and her words aren’t complete nonsense. After all, he did blow things up because Seira rejected him, but he has learned from his mistakes and he’s a better person now, right…? Nevertheless, Rael is hurt by Arya doing this to him. At the same time, he also felt sorry for her, because it is true that she inherited certain traits from him, and it is partially his fault for spoiling her too much in her early days.

Arya wasn’t only a criminal. She was also a bully. And the targets of her actions? Her Loyard half-siblings. That’s right. Garyth and Alethea. Yup. The ones who stole Regis’ time from her, the time she is rightfully entitled to, and the very causes of his shortened lifespan. If Arya couldn’t blame Regis, she figured she could blame them instead. Just think about it. They’re younger than her, they’re weaker than her, and she is their older sister by blood. By that logic, they had to listen to her, right? Arya probably thinks she’s so smart for figuring that out.

To Arya, Garyth and Alethea are indebted her. They belong to her. Everything they’ve ever been, and everything they’ll ever be, they owed to her. If it weren’t for her father, her Regis, they wouldn’t even exist here. Even if they didn’t ask to exist, they are still indebted to her. Thanks to them, Arya doesn’t have much time left with her daddy dearest. First and foremost, he’s her father, they share the same surname, she should be his top priority! Except in Arya’s eyes, she wasn’t that to Regis. And to her, the Loyard siblings are living proof of that sentiment. They are just as guilty as him. Arya’s total obsession with Regis, and her wanting to have him all to herself, is driving her insane. She loves him as much as she is obsessed with him. And the truth is Arya doesn’t really have a reason to be mean to her Loyard siblings. They’re nice, well-behaved kids. They’re polite, and try to be patient around their elder half-sister.

But it didn’t matter. If Regis isn’t going to be around for much longer, then these two will love her in Regis’ place. If they don’t love her, then she will make them love her, even if that means doing so by using force. Arya bossed them around, and made them listen to her every request. They were her little workers basically. This led to a very unhappy Garyth. The Kertia bloodline is just terrible. His elder half-sister’s father Rael harassed his mother Seira, and now Arya herself is here harassing him! It runs in the family. It has to be. This just further cements little Garyth’s already boiling hatred for Rael’s guts. (Will explain this a bit more in Garyth’s own post) Meanwhile little Alethea is fine with being bossed around. She doesn’t really know what to do with her life anyway, so rather than coming up with her ideas, she could just listen to Arya. (Also explaining more in Alethea’s own post) Due to Alethea’s nature of not really having her own opinion on things, she often gets lugged around by Arya. Yes, this includes Arya’s criminal activities. Arya doesn’t fully explain things to Alethea and purposely leaves out details so Alethea would join in on her… adventures. Which is why poor Alethea is often seen following Arya as the latter’s unwitting accomplice.

Fortunately, the adults know better than to accuse Alethea along with Arya because they just know that Arya is the mastermind and Alethea simply got tricked into being a part of her shenanigans. At one point Arya got the equivalent of a restraining order and she wasn’t allowed to be within a five hundred meter radius of Alethea, until she made a written promise that she wouldn’t trick Alethea into doing illegal things again.

Ultimately, Arya’s destructive behavior is unsustainable. When she got out of being grounded, she would just commit crime again. Soon, her 200th birthday approached, and she could not do as she pleased anymore. If she were to commit the same crimes she had before, she would be tried as an adult and punishments would be much more severe, and she would have to deal with real consequences.

One faithful day, Arya was snooping around Regis’ office and she overheard a conversation between him and Rael. Regis was stressed. There was plenty of silence. And then she heard crying. It came from Regis. For all her life, she had never seen her father cry. And then it hit her. Regis weeped, and talked about how scared he is for Arya. He wasn’t angry; he wasn’t disappointed. He was scared. He didn’t know what Arya was capable of, and now that her birthday is nearing, she would get into serious trouble and he would no longer be able to save her. Her approaching coming-of-age was not one of joy nor celebration; it was one of fear. Pure fear. And then Regis started to sob. His biggest fear is having to watch Arya get executed if she really goes beyond the point of no return. Finally. The long needed moment of awakening for Arya. Her acts of rebellion wasn’t helping anyone, and it hurt her loved ones more than anyone else. Most of all, it hurt Regis. Her Regis. She needs to stop, for her own sake, and for everyone else’s sake.

Arya didn’t say anything, and quietly left before she could listen to the rest of her parents’ conversation. She stayed silent for the longest duration of time. And… she came clean to her parents. This took her parents by surprise, as they initially thought that was some prank. But she was serious. Arya walked into the center of the room, kneeled, and apologized to her parents. No tantrums, no whining, no bargaining. It was a deep, sincere apology. A heartfelt apology for everything she had done, and the worries she had caused. Arya also promised to never do those things again, and that she will make up to everyone she has wronged. Regis and Rael were moved. They could feel her sincerity, and Regis simply walked over slowly and kneeled down to Arya’s level and hugged her while rocking her gently. Just the two of them on the floor, both on their knees, in a deep embrace. One that they haven’t shared since Arya’s early teen years. Then Rael joined in, and the three of them couldn’t hold back their tears anymore, and they all sobbed together. It was messy. A good mess. Repentance leads to reconciliation, which leads to the start of a new beginning.

Arya first started by apologizing to everyone she has wronged in both writing and in person. She wrote to them first, because she wasn’t sure if they would even want to see her. After she got permission, she then went to them in person and knelt and apologized for her wrongdoings. And this went on for a long time just because of the sheer number of people she had offended. It was a long list. Arya is not going to come up with excuses this time. She is going to go through all of them, as she should. Or, the ones who are willing to accept an apology from her. Some did not want to see her, even for an apology. Many of them did not respond to her letters. Some of them even replied and basically told her to screw off and to never show her face in front of them again. This made sense. Reconciliation required the effort of both perpetrator and victim to happen, and some of her victims just weren’t having it. That is the hard truth Arya has to accept and live with. For those who did accept Arya’s apologies, they genuinely forgave her. With time, wounds healed, and Arya was ready to be back as a functional member of society. It took her a while to be able to lift her head around people again, but they accepted her back, and what position is she in to reject their kindness?

Garyth and Alethea forgave Arya too. Well, Alethea never held a grudge against Arya in the first place, Garyth just told her that she should be mad at their half-sister for manipulating them. It took a much longer time for Garyth to forgive Arya, but eventually he was able to find peace with her and move on from the past. Though, sometimes he still has a hard time looking at her face. She was a bully, even if she tries her hardest to make up to them now.

What about Arya’s duties? Well, Arya picked up her responsibilities as future Clan Leader once more. She had been neglecting them for the entire duration of her delinquency, and now she’s back at it, as she should. In fact, she’s working harder than ever before. And she’s also intensely training herself in spars. Her aim is to succeed Regis as Clan Leader as soon as possible, so he can be free to enjoy the rest of his remaining lifespan without being so busy with work and duties.

Arya’s stepping back into the light doesn’t mean that her issues have disappeared completely. In fact, they’re very much still there. The grief was real. The sadness was real. It’s a wound that will never heal in Arya’s heart, and it stings every time she thinks about her daddy dying. It’s just that her conscience has won for once and all, and she isn’t going to let the bad side of her personality to take over her anymore. She can keep it in. She has to. So what’s her new coping mechanism for her grief? Three… two… one… yep, ya guessed it. Acting like she’s happy. Too happy. Her fake cheerful personality that she puts on to trick Regis into thinking she is having a good time. The overly enthusiastic Arya who is cringy and spontaneous, but fun. She doesn’t want Regis to worry about her anymore, and wants him to be able to eventually pass knowing that she is happy and fulfilled. Yeahhhh, it’s coming together in a full circle! Woo! Is this a better alternative to her previous coping mechanism of being a delinquent? It’s debatable. Maybe this is just as unhealthy. Maybe even unhealthier. But for now… this’ll do. She has no other choice. She’ll keep up this fake cheerful persona for as long as she can. Until she breaks down again.

(Note that Arya still hasn’t told her parents that she is troubled with Regis’ impeding death. Nobody knows. They know she will never fall into crime again, but still don’t have any clue about why she was like that in first place.)

Well, the good news is, eventually Arya is able to communicate with her parents about her true thoughts a feelings. It does take a long time, and that is for a separate post. Yeeee saving that for later hehe. I will explain Arya’s relationship with her girlfriend Susanna in a separate post too!

Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for the next long character post!

See you again!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #oc #original character #millennium au #arya k. landegre

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fanartbyherd · 7 days

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Been doodling.

And I have been doodling the witches from the wizard of Oz.

All of these are Amalgamations of different versions of the witches I have seen mixed with headcannon, and how I intend to draw them for a personal project in the future.

Good witch of the north and west are a lot younger then the original books, but are more in line with the 1930s technicolor film. ( I mean iconic for a reason) as well as their portrayals in the book / musical Wicked.

Wicked witch of the west has a cape that can act as wings and her eyes are bright green in color. Her skin is more of a green tint then outright green. But it’s noticeable. She is also wearing an eyepatch.

I have backstory for all of them that is a horrid amalgamation of several different cannons fused together. I might share that at some other time.

Glinda the good witch of the south is black and beautiful, based on the illustrations from a tabletop rpg I have. I also sort of just imagine her as black. She’s the most powerful of the witches to my understanding of the source material. But she had some sort of agreement with the other witches that dose not let her interfere most of the time.

Witch of the east is wearing a Munchkin hat, and the silver slippers (with ruby red ribbons). Originally I started coloring the bells yellow and gold, but then I realized they should probably be silver like the shoes. I tried to fix it but ended up with this odd brass color. I’ll correct it in the future.

I was really tempted at making the wicked witch of the east a redhead. But I decided against it.

Now all witches wear white. It’s the color of witches but as rulers of their respective countries in the land of Oz their clothes also reflect the color of the country they rule over.

Gilligens=purple

Vinkus=yellow

Quadling=red

Munchkin =blue

I’ll probably share the other doodles I have at some later date. For now I will happily share these.

(Also if you are drawing wizard of oz fanart feel free to use these designs!)

#fanart #the wizard of oz #wizard of oz #wicked musical #wicked witch #good witch #good witch of the north #good witch of the south #wicked #wicked witch of the west #wicked witch of the east #glinda #glinda the good witch #black is beautiful #wicked the musical #wicked the life and times of the wicked witch of the west #munchkin

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sleepydrabblesart · 4 months

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Some fun stuff for Into The Stars:

Heights first— Hobi is the tallest, Yoongi is the shortest. Doing this first because it helps contextualize the next two:

Outside view of the pod! The pods are embedded into a concave wall, with a set of ten in the sleeping area (average crew size). The pods are vaguely egg-shaped, with an opaque outer wall for privacy. The door slides into the wall to avoid any mishaps and conserve space, and there’s a scanner programmed to respond to either the owner of the pod or a crew member with captain’s permissions in the event of an emergency. (this is, of course, related to NORMAL emergencies, and assuming protocol is followed.)

The little square in the upper corner is a sketch of the layout: bottom layer from left to right (standing in the doorway) is Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jeongguk. The second layer from left to right (standing in the doorway) is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok. Jimin offered Taehyung his bed but Taehyung refused, for reasons still unknown, and insists on clambering into his space every night by using the other pods as… ladders? Who knows. The top three pods are generally left unused because they’re hard to get to unless you’re incredibly tall (in which case the ship really isn’t built to accommodate you) or you have some sort of wings/other bodily attachment that allows you to get up there.

Hobi is the pilot, so he got the final say on the ship they bought as a crew, but it’s general practice to buy a ship scaled to the largest member of your crew because it’s easier to add the equipment to accommodate the smaller species than to deal with the problems that come about when the space is just too small.

On to the inside!

The inside top of the ‘shell’ doubles as a touchscreen that can be used to access information and entertainment. Across from the door is a specific control panel to control light levels, sound, etc. The thin strip running around the edge of the ‘shell’ is the light strip, which usually imitates the home sleep cycle of the pod’s inhabitant. The lower part of the pod is filled by a mattress-pillow thing that automatically adjusts to support the being(s) on it. As mentioned in-story, the blankets in the humans’ pods are imitations of human blankets, which means they sit kind of weird but otherwise have a pretty soft, fluffy texture. JK has five of them, so his pod is generally an absolute mess, but YG and TH managed to convince the rest of the crew they don’t need more than three each. Other species have different reactions to different textures, so the pod can either regulate heat to facilitate smooth sleep or the crew member usually brings their own blankets/extra pillows/etc.

I lack the cultural awareness of movies that most of my generation seems to just HAVE (damn it!) so I have never seen ALIEN and had to google what those pods look like. Not what I imagined ;w; It’s not absolutely essential to the story to know what they look like (I think?) but hopefully it’s fun to look at. I might do more doodles in the future, these were kinda fun.

#bts fanfic #into the stars #ITS doodles #art by sleepydrabbles #sleepydrabbles art #space fantasy #doodles

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sapphicdragons-4 · 1 month

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my bio! (long post)

Hi! You can call me Vi. I use she/her (or they/them if you’re feeling boisterous). Any gendered compliments are welcome, but creature-related ones are encouraged! I’m also very leftist, athiest, socialist, and a punk-in-training. (i despise the government and society to some extent, but i am mostly a law-abiding citizen and a fucking coward)

Gender: thingy? I identify along the lines of xenogirl, paragirl, agender, and genderfluid. I don’t stress it too much :3

I am femme-leaning omni and aro; i have a few microlabels but im fine saying just that. I am also hypersexual (not traumagenic).

Nonhuman identities: I am an Aqua dragon (original species). It fits somewhere between othermidst, othervague, heartedlink, otherkin, otherlink, and fictionkin, but is strong enough that I consider myself dragonkin. Because of this, I am avianhearted, canine and feline simil, have a lush forest hearthome, and feel very connected to bodies of water, the sun, the moon, the sky, and thunderstorms.

Hobbies: I enjoy drawing, crafting, jewelry making, sculpting, biking, gaming, swimming, frolicking, collecting, doing quads, and just doing other gooberish activities :D

Music: I have no set music taste, but a few of my favorite artists are sign crushes motorist, Alex G, Duster, 0neheart, 6arelyhuman, Odetari, Mac DeMarco, Nirvana, cavetown, mazie, dandelion hands, Strawberry Guy, Other Nothing, Paramore, Eyedress, Suicidal Tendencies, Lyn Lapid, Louie Zong, a little bit of Billie Eilish, the Hazbin Hotel soundtrack, the Heathers soundtrack, Surf Course, Starry Cat, Lovejoy (don’t listen to it anymore, but it sounded good), Penelope Scott, a little bit of The Cardigans, and i should probably stop now before you shrivel up and walk off. If you have any band reccomendations, send them my way!

Fandoms: Too many to count, but my mains are Wings of Fire, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Heathers, She-ra (new), The Owl House, Amphibia, Creatures of Sonaria, The Coffin Of Andy And Leyley, Newsies, Your Boyfriend, and Subnautica. I am also a furry :3

I am also very involved in communities such as alterhuman, alternative, neurodivergent, and punk, but these are not fandoms.

I live in the midwestern U.S.

This account is geared towards teens and young adults. If you’re over 30 and we haven’t interacted, probably let me give you a vibe check before you follow

i’m a bit of a chronic attention seeker, and will do things or amplify things sometimes that might be subconciously for attention. please be patient, and don’t be rude to me when it happens, i have quite a few microtraumas surrounding this :/

will be fine with people goofin off in my asks!

might do commisions for sketches, doodles, moodboards, backgrounds, and maybe stimboards.

Tag system!

#kaeposting - kin stuff! #kaecreates - stuff I made that relates to my kintype

#kaefrolicks - picures or videos of the forest, and maybe videos of quads in the future

#kae rambles - dragon go bla bla bla

#vi’s updates - updates about my life

#vi’s passion projects - crafts because slay

#vi’s wonderful world of pretty things - pretty pictures of scenery, jewelry I love, and maybe some outfits. room maybe

#eye of the storm wings of the heart - pretentious ahh name. storm stuff, nice water sounds, avianhearted stuff, basically all my secondary kin things

#+££+|~| - vents. typically angry due to my nature, under the cut with a warning. stylized “teeth”

#€|@\/\/$ - vents. typically obsessive thoughts and talking about hypersexuality. stylized “claws”

#aqua dragons 🪷 - info on or relating to my favorite lil creatures! lilypad as to not to be confused with shrimp or water dragons.

This is a safe place for queer, MOGAI, LGBTQIA, POC, alterhuman, ALL systems, endels, lycanthropes, zooanthropes, physical nonhumans, neurodivergent people (not just ADHD and autism! [them too] ALL! /friendly) anti-contact AND pro-treatment paraphiles (both at once and ONLY both at once. pro-contact, anti-treatment, or both, GET THE FUCK OFF MY PAGE.) , age and pet regressors, people with kinks, so on and so forth. I can’t think of many others, but the rule of thumb is:

If you either don’t wan’t to, or don’t, hurt others, you’re fine. Example: Nonhumans with a prey drive getting the urge to kill small animals without following through, and people with mental illnesses / personality disorders hurting others without meaning to and feeling remorse. You are loved, and you are safe here.

DNI: Bigots, transphobes, homophobes, anti-feminists, radfems, TERFS, paraphiles mentioned previously, conservative people, extensively religious, anti-endel/clinical ‘thropes, antifurries, antikins, and other generally dislikable people. tryna use mild language ‘cause this varies wildly in severity.

And I would prefer if Abrahamic religion was kept out. It’s fine to believe in that god, but I would prefer if it wasn’t brought up much on this blog. thank you for your consideration :)

and I think that’s all! I’ll link the Guide to Aqua Dragons below when I make it! thank you for your time.

#kaeposting #kaecreates #kaefrolicks #vi’s updates #vi’s passion projects #vi’s wonderful world of pretty things #eye of the storm wings of the heart #aqua dragons 🪷#kae rambles #alterhuman #nonhuman #+££+|~|#€|@\/\/$

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lutrainman · 10 months

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Hey @doodle-girl I wasn’t sure if you were going to resend this question to this blog, but I felt that I couldn’t just let it fade to nonexistence. It’s also an excuse to explain why Creon is an utter freak of nature. Creon basically becomes a discount vampire that can walk in daylight. She can mostly regenerate life-threatening injuries if blood or flesh is consumed. There was a lot of existential panicking for a while.

Not sure if I wanted to give her wings. She already has a lot of physical attributes of a prehistoric bat and big predator felines. I don’t think flight is needed to make her even more goated after mutation.

LUTR lore dump about Metas below.

Creon falls under the "latent" metahuman. Which means her mutation hasn't fully manifested. So she's a late bloomer. However, due to circumstances behind her being a Chrysalis baby and how she was created illegally, her meta genes were dampened to an extent. It's been forcefully awakened at age 14, but she hasn't fully come into her meta abilities yet. Her full mutation won't occur unless she undergoes severe stress or life-threatening situations.

This is why she rarely gets sick and heals much faster. Also why she can endure long, working hours and lift heavy loads with ease. Meta beings have a leg-up compared to average, natural people. Do they still need to work and study hard for skills and abilities? Yes. But they have natural advantages or newbie-gains that give them an edge.

Project “Chrysalis” was originally eugenics project proposed to make the future generation better equipped to survive the fallout of climate change and the possible nuclear fallout. But the government had military super-soldiers in mind first. At first they tried to test out altering the genes of adults, both human and anthro. Less than 30% barely survived; mostly anthros.

The best success rate was starting from birth, in an artificial womb structure. Early experiments have proven that natural births kill both the mother and the fetus. After a lot of failures, political and socio-economic disasters, and World War 3, most countries made further meddling in Eugenics illegal. Especially the making of “Chrysalis” babies. All bio-genetic projects or proposals are closely scrutinized and need to be approved by all nations in NATO, or some world council overseeing this issue.

Creon’s mutation isn’t quite normal compared to other Meta-beings. Creon is maybe the 2nd “Chimera” experimented on by the same scientist who has created her friend, Hinder; another S-rank Meta. She was really scared of what her possible mutation could lead to. Most Meta-beings have black sclera eyes and more colorful, glowing pupils. Even in the future, gene modification in eye color, hair/fur, is strictly prohibited or regulated.

For Meta-humans, they have slightly pointed ears, giving them an elf-like appearance. Meta-anthros have more vibrant colorful fur, or irregular patterns on their bodies. Depending on some Metas, they might have additional appendages or facial features or an extra sense.

Which is why Creon’s mutation is more bestial. The good news is, she probably doesn’t carry a potentially infectious disease like she was warned of. This was one of the prime reasons for why Creon feared her mutation and being set apart from her fellow Metas. The unpredictable fear of the unknown and how the world would treat what is different is why she hopes to never “reach full potential.” She fears being even more of a monster. Lots of war crimes were committed during her time of service.

That fear is why Creon forcefully stopped herself from mutating a few times during combat, even though that probably resulted in a lot of physical and mental trauma. After leaving service, she felt safe in the possibility of living a normal (in her terms) civilian life. What life-threatening, high-stress situation can possibly force her into Meta-evolving? Well you can thank Dr. Zane for launching a world-wide infestation of bio-engineered monsters.

Dr. Zane wanted revenge for having his work on bio-engineered, garbage eating life-forms was shut down after World War III. Especially when he was so close to a breakthrough. So he decided to punish humanity’s hypocrisy by unleashing his “monsters.” First they were harmlessly introduced as cute Fuz-Z pets (or toys).

Then on “Doomsday” as he called it, he sent out signals that caused the creatures to mutate to bigger monsters that laid carnage everywhere. Creon and Hinder were busy slaughtering most of the monsters in Acmetropolis, but this is what caused her body to fully mutate in response to the danger.

I don’t know how far in timeline it is, but Terry and Creon would have progressed far in their relationship. Terry was worried after 1 week of silence and no contact after the the Fuz-Z attack. He initially freaked out when Creon finally broke the news of her mutation. Terry would be the one stepping up in helping Creon readjust to her new normal as a Metahuman.

Meta-sentiment isn’t that favorable in the general public, especially in America. Very few places are tolerant of them. Metas are like an ugly reminder of World War III and America’s dirty laundry. Despite there being a few scattered in parts of the world, most will live secluded lives. Most end up living in obscurity.

Thankfully Creon has found support from her besties and fellow neighbors in the Crater community. Crater residents would have THE MOST beef with Metas, considering the Crater happened due to errant Metas losing control and wreaking havoc. But thankfully they’re usually the type of folks who mind their own business as long as you don’t mess with them. They’ve recovered strong after rebuilding from gang and turf wars, and the massacre of said gangs. It helps that they know Creon very well.

#creon gilead #lutrainman #loonatics unleashed #metahuman #asks and replies #long overdue #mutant #long post

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dinoburger · 2 years

Photo

since a bunch of stuff got wiped from this blog, I thought it might be a good time to repost these guys - I came up with a bunch of fusion designs for the original DHMIS teachers back in... 2016? 2017?

definitely had fun with these guys

1st row:

Anniversary (Tony + Shrignold)

Dream Journal (Sketchbook + Lamp)

2nd row:

Love Letter (Shrignold + Sketchbook)

Projector (Hugo + Lamp)

Sun Dial (Tony + Hugo)

3rd row:

Nightmare Fuel (Steak + Lamp)

Streamers (Spinach + Sketchbook)

4th row: height comparison

there’s a bunch of extra doodles, original descriptions/profiles and stuff

Anniversary:

An anniversary is a date which marks a time when something very important happened, like birthdays and weddings!

Anniversary is a Tony+Shrignold fusion who talks in a very gentle voice and is a condescending, sarcastic asshole.

Dream Journal:

They are a dream journal teacher who has a tendency to make snarky comments at their students, a result of Sketch’s passive aggressive nature and Larry’s way of just blurting out whatever comes to mind. This also means they sometimes say things they soon regret.

While their lessons are a little more structured than the lamp alone, everything sidetracks and derails into nightmarish horror fairly quickly.

They’re very chipper and lighthearted, a little dizzy at times but fairly balanced.

Love Letter:

Hello there boys and girls! Did you know? Writing is a very CREATIVE way of expressing your FEELINGS! Let’s try it together!

Love Letters is a Sketchpad+Shrignold fusion who likes to encourage students to write out their feelings and c o n f e s s t h e i r s i n s.

They spend most of their lessons trying to tease out secret feelings from their victims and encouraging them to write everything down, even their most terrible thoughts. Even the thoughts they didn’t think they had. Even the ones they most certainly didn’t have until LL started to meddle and pry and persuade them.

But, not to worry. LL is a good friend who keeps secrets. If only at the cost of them knowing what terrible people their victims are. Privately.

They also devour and store away discarded and scribbled out papers and letters. The more emotionally charged the letters are, the more frenzied LL becomes.

They are very sweet and always smiling. A teacher and a friend.

Their “weapon” is just a letter opener, and the text on the back of their “wings” is always changing whenever they open and shut.

Constellation Projector:

“Stars can tell the future, they know when we are born and they know how we will die!”

Very knowledgeable about “astronomy” and is enthusiastic to talk about unfortunate horoscopes. The more you believe in them, the worse it gets.

They’re pretty happy-go-lucky, kinda goofy too.

They can only talk through their mouth, however their moon changes expressions and it’s eye dilates sometimes when really excited.

Sun Dial (clockwork solar system):

They’re our space+time teacher, a weird mishmash of a sundial and a clockwork solar system model. Always happy to give misinformation about lunar cycles and planetary eclipses.

The two go hand in hand, especially since we basically created the calendar from cycles of the moon and sun.

They are very orderly, but aren’t stern like Tony. Not quite as boisterous as Hugo either. They have… the aura of something very otherly.

Lots of moving parts, hands on the outer ring that can move individually and a face that’s hinged.

Nightmare Fuel (cooking pot):

so I ended up with this luminous cooking pot teacher… they don’t really “teach” so much as they scare the living daylights out of their students (punishment for eating too much before bed time…)

a lot of what they do seems to be completely bizarre and illogical, but the steaky side of their personality often has some sort of reasoning behind it, granted they don’t often bother explaining

like lamp they can get very giggly, but not in the dizzy sort of way lamp does, in fact it sounds much more sinister and unnerving

the third arm they have doesn’t do much except flail around, more like an antenna than an arm

Streamers (party cup, birthday card):

They are a paper party cup/birthday card called Streamers and they can teach you how to make a birthday cake…

…out of your friends…

…and then make you eat it…

#dhmis #dhmis fusions #dbarts

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oil-bh · 5 months

Text

☆★

☆ — BROUGHT ME UP TOUGH, BUT I WAS A GENTLE HUMAN

Hey hey! Name’s Valentín. I’m one of the people who runs this blog, and I’m one of the primary hosts of this system.

I tend to be the artist behind most of our drawings, and the few times we’ve posted writing- well, that was probably me as well.

Finally decided to do an intro, I guess, hah. Not exactly what all to put here, if I’m being honest.

I’m a multi-sourced faitive of Quackity. My sources are DSMP, Karmaland, QSMP, and an au/fanfic we’ve been developing for a couple years, obviously, alongside being a factive. Ironically, I’m the least connected to being a factive, even though I formed in 2018 initially as just a factive.

I go exclusively by Valentín. Don’t call me Quackity, or anything else, unless we’re friends and have nicknames. Calling me Val is fine though. 👍

If you were wondering, my pronouns are it/vamp/maw/he/artery/luck/stock/bond/claw. Sometimes I cycle through pronouns, so it/vamp/maw/he is always a safe route. I’m transneumasc/nonbinary/alexigender + some xenogenders, and I choose not to label my orientation.

Fun fact! I’m a genetically altered avian to be a duck and a lammergeier. I’m also a turned vampire. Another fun fact, I’m a subsystem, aka a system within a system. I was actually a system in source, but didn’t figure that out until fairly recently.

To put it shortly, uh. All the Quackity fanart we’ve posted (and probably ever will post) is of me. I’ve got a few posts, and since I love drawing myself so much, don’t be surprised if you see more in the future. Here’s some that you’ve probably seen if you aren’t new to my blog.

[x] . [x] . + some unfinished wips I won’t bother linking to, lmao.

I used to tag my things with #valentín talks, but I’ve slipped out of doing that. Might resume doing that, but idk. Shrugs.

Anywho, if you have any questions, go ahead. Literally feel free to ask anything. I like talking. Don’t be surprised if I go on little exomemory rambles every now and then. I’m pretty sure my brother, Jaiden, already posted one about Baghera, him, and I, lmao.

This is getting really long. Have some doodles of myself as a treat

+ Bonus my cool ass wings

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lavendoodles · 5 months

Text

✨Oui bonjour✨

Hi, hello. Please call me Lavender.

I'm a 20 year-old doodler with a fair amount of imagination but too much self-doubt to actually do or draw anything about it. I usually like to draw and play The Sims 4 on my potato laptop. When I feel like drawing myself/my persona, I give myself bunny ears, butterfly wings, and a giant frohawk.

As I'm writing these small introduction lines (12/28/2023), I believe that I'm doing awfully bad in terms of motivation and self-worth/esteem. I feel pessimistic towards my future and my art. I feel like burning every drawing I barely start and I only need myself to mock any idea I might have about my OCs or the universe I've been trying to build for years.

So, uh, what the heck am I even trying to accomplish here?

I think I've been building unnecessary pressure on my shoulders. So the goal here is to yeet that pressure out the window, because it's killing my joy to create, bit by bit. (I mean, I can't even relax when I play TS4 because I feel compelled to play the most perfect household with impeccable storytelling and arcs... and for what? talk about a useless perfectionnist.)

I'd like to be as transparent and as chill as possible with my art (and possibly myself), so I'll draw anything that comes to mind, without the pressure to make it look polished and ready on the first try. That's impossible and I need to take that false belief out of my head.

Expect WIPs, casual doodles, actually finished illustrations, and uuuuh maybe some random thoughts here and there, if I feel like it. I also have a giant list of things I'd like to draw or animate that's been sitting on my notes app for years now. I think I'll post it here so I can keep track of my progress on this blog, and so can you!

I think that's everything. Guess I'll see you soon!

Take care, and keep drawing.

(an example of a doodle I like, but I'm too scared to fail to replicate the same vibe in a polished drawing. But I'll make it someday, right?)

#digital art #illustration #motivation #actually getting my ass up to do things #i really dont know how this is going to go #so ill just call upon the spirit of optimism to keep going #and not delete this entire blog at the end of the day #if you're in the same position i'm giving u so much love and strength because i know you got this #good luck to us i suppose.#ramblings

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sparkspsps · 2 years

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oh? an avian au? :D

omg yessssss!! I might rant a little even though I don't have much formally written at this point:

Sky and Wild are the only avians in the group. Everyone else's eras saw them more as myths than anything except perhaps Four's but even then they weren't exactly wandering around Hyrule.

Avians themselves have wings modeled after eurasian jays. I'll put a pic of the birds and more info below:

I'll attempt some doodles once I mess around more with character design.

Avians lived together with Hylians while on Skyloft, and Hylia herself has wings much like how she's depicted in her statue. Unfortunately after they all descended to the surface Hylians became resentful since they no longer had a way to fly since loftwings returned to Skyloft. This is around the time of the era of chaos so obviously very far down the line after Sky. Most Avians decided to return around this time as well and Skyloft was sealed off from Hyrule.

The dragons from botw are guardians of the realms and are now the only way to reach Skyloft in the future. Also, all avian wings are going to be modeled after jays and similar small birds, but not specifically these.

I have a series of one shots I'm working on but I'm still expanding everything including the two hero's personal backstories.

#avian au #lu #linked universe #lu sky #lu wild

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mclarenyaoi · 3 months

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Ooo! I have some fursona ideas if you want them! (Feel free to ignore if you don’t)

George is very Gray Heron vibes to me, tall and ~dramatic~. Yuki could be either a Japanese Dormouse or a Japanese Tit. Lewis I think could be a Lesser Kudu (and maybe he got his horns removed and it was a Really Big Deal)

hi anon!!! first of all, congratulations, you're my first ever anon ask on this blog! second of all, that previous thing is pretty much exactly why this is being answered a bit late ^^' i'm terribly sorry about that, i just really wanted to make my answer good!! thank you for giving me these ideas, i love them and i love you, whoever you are <3

this is gonna be a long post so my actual answer to this ask containing all the doodles and commentary will be under the cut. just like last time, all written notes will be transcribed in the alt text since my handwriting isn't particularly legible. apologies in advance for any spelling mistakes or accidental misinformation, i don't have the time or energy to give this post a proper proofread so if anyone finds any errors or needs clarification on anything, please let me know! anyways hope you all find this post enjoyable ^^

first up, grey heron george! i've never drawn a grey heron before, so this was quite fun if a bit complicated

i ended up settling for the mid-length neck in the "final" headshot, but now that i've had more time to think on it, i think i'd choose to draw him with a long neck, tho he'd get some serious cramps after every race. it'd also be funnier as well — herons are, as you said, tall and dramatic... but herons from the front? yeah. blimey indeed.

there's also the matter of how his helmet would fit, esp since you can't exactly go and shave off a man's mouth. i couldn't find a good solution for this; my best idea was that little confused drawing in the corner. it's not a terrific solution by a long shot, but i suppose that's just how it'll be until i (or someone else? this is an open invitation, tho do tag me) come(s) up with a solution

i didn't do a fullbody sketch for grey heron george, but if i did i'd have him stand next to someone for comparison. i guess the question with that is how much his neck would factor into his height since he's plenty tall as is. i did also want to do a dramatic drawing for george, but i was severely struggling to figure out a pose. maybe i'll do one in the future..

next up, yuki. anon, i LOVED these suggestions! i ended up drawing both suggested fursonas bc why not lol. (also, i did assume by "japanese tit" you meant aegithalos caudatus japonicus (called shimaenaga (シマエナガ) in japanese) the white-faced subspecies of the long-tailed bushtit only found in hokkaido, japan) and not parsus minor, since the shimaenaga definitely gives more yuki vibes)

(before i say anything i Just realized 2'58" makes no fucking sense so i need to correct this first — it should be 2'7" ! my bad yall)

i drew yuki as a tit before i drew him as a dormouse so i'll talk abt them in that order

obviously as a creature the shimaenaga is SO very yuki sdkjfh i mean just!! look at ittt!! the definition of borb (bird orb). ngl i was kinda hoping they'd have shrike-like tendencies just bc i love when little cute things kill with brutality, but nope! they're insectivores year-round. shimaenaga are polygynous and lay 7-10 eggs per brood, which is great bc they're vulnerable to cold temperatures and hokkaido has long winters. long-tailed tits typically have facial markings resembling big brows, but this subspecies loses those markings in adulthood, probably to better blend in with the snow. i think i was gonna draw hatchling yuki with big brows at some point, but didn't bc drawing babies is difficult and drawing babies as birds is even more difficult lmao. you might notice that i chose to go the beastars route with anthropomorphic animals and gave bird yuki humanoid limbs and no wings. why did i choose to do this? well. i am not great at drawing bird legs and i didn't feel like drawing them here

the japanese dormouse has an avg length of less than 8cm (3.15in) with a tail of 6cm (2.4in). they're omnivores, with a diet consisting of fruit, nuts, insects, spiders, bird eggs and nestlings, and small rodents—even other dormice, hence my little comment abt cannibalism. again, i like it when little cute things kill with brutality. i think this works better for yuki, who i personally see as being small but mighty, though it's not like it doesn't work to make him a particularly vulnerable animal. rise against the odds and all that

regardless of whichever animal you (widely encompassing) or i choose to draw yuki as, i find yuki as a small prey animal to be v interesting. both the shimaenaga and japanese dormouse are small and agile creatures, and fitting a small animal with yuki's personality is compelling to me (which is not to say i buy into the narrative of yuki being particularly explosive or having anger issues, bc i don't believe in nor stand for that lol). for the purpose of the narrative, i love you small but stubborn animals that can and will bite you!

before i move on please appreciate pierre and yuki in the corner, i am forever and always a citizen of yukierre nation

ok last and anything but least, lewis! i'll admit, anon, i was a bit confused at first why you specifically picked the lesser kudu for lewis, but after seeing a comparison of the greater and lesser kudus.. i get it. lesser kudus look cooler (more markings) and i enjoy that

so, pretty clear timeline here. a headshot of lewis in the present, what lewis would look like with horns (i spent. so long on this. completely on accident bc i wanted the horns to look good and then had to make the rest of it look like it matched asgjfkh), what lewis looked like in ~2007, lewis post-surgery (complete horn removal), and then a sketch of lewis smiling bc i like his smile \(^u^)/

(btw, while you're here, there are only ~100k lesser kudu left in the world due to over-hunting and habitat destruction, so. figure i could stand to add a link to the african wildlife foundation page on kudus, where you can find a donation button in the corner)

anon, what you said abt lewis' horn removal being a really big deal... ough it had me thinkinggg. i think the symbolism in permanently sawing off a part of yourself to fit a mold is sooo intriguing (tho not completely matching w/ lewis' story, i think as a general concept it fucks) and also represents the sacrifices needed to be part of motorsport, particularly from a young age. pecora would need to either cut off or greatly shorten the length of their cranial appendage in order to fit their head in a helmet — technically you could like, cut holes in your helmet, but then if you have a serious crash it'd probably be a near-certain fatality due to the bone and blood and nerves in there, in addition to the obvious danger of having a heavy bone object potentially crushing into your skull. there's only a few species of pecora where having a cranial appendage isn't a sexually dimorphic thing (eg caribou, reindeer, cattle, wildebeest) so having big horns is largely a sign of masculinity, hence why lewis initially kept as much of his horns as he could (there's probably some regulation for how large horns can be before they become a danger)

so with that being said, when lewis removes his horns entirely, it causes some uproar since he's effectively socially emasculating himself on purpose. there's definitely shitty articles written about it left and right, angrily bullshitting about how it's a sign that this is the end of masculine pecora (it's not) or that regulations have gone too far (no one made him do it) or that lewis is a bad role model (nope) or whatever the hell. lewis gives like One statement on it, smth abt how he did it for his own comfort and nothing else, how it doesn't emasculate him (bc it doesn't, anyone can do whatever well-informed decision forever and it can mean fuck all if you want it to mean fuck all, Truly who give a shit), and again more shitty articles quote it. etc etc usual circlejerk of illiterate media "journalism" continues until it dies down once something else happens. idk, smth like that, i didn't go to fucking school for math realistic furry-verse timeline creation

asdkjfh oh my god THANK YOU SO MUCH to anyone who's read this whole thing, please let me know your thoughts and opinions or if i made any errors. anon, i appreciate you immensely, i am so terribly sorry for the rambling but i hope you found this post interesting!

#asks #furmula one #<thats gonna be my tag for this from now on bc i Do plan on doing more w this...#huge shoutout to the literal one other post in this tag. there are about to be three! (going back & adding tag to 1st post)#this is the only time i'll make a post this long ever again yall i. good lord #i would love rqs for this btw u guys dont even understand how thrilled i am #gr63 #yt22 #lh44 #f1 fanart #my art

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shirecorn · 3 years

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how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Part 4

(The side characters strike again!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 3

L!MC= Lucifer’s kid | M!MC= Mammon’s kid | A!MC=Asmo’s kid

Let’s get right to it!

The Uncle That Hardcore Simps For His Spouse In the Most Wholesome Way (Diavolo)

Gasp! More half-demon kids? Oh my! Maybe if he tried again next year a kid of his own would pop down! Hang on- he hadn’t slept with a human in almost a century... dang. No kids for him...

...maybe...

Remember when I said Diavolo would try to do those stereotypical dad (tm) things and be hip with the kids? Yeah he keeps doing that.

The number of broken windows related to wayward baseballs goes up 150%. At least that’s how they all figured out that M!MC is nearsighted like their dad!

M!MC had developed a bit of a habit of telling Diavolo about cool human stuff and making the Crown Prince even more interested in the human world than normal.

You may be thinking “what’s so bad about that?” well, the number of yo-yos at RAD went up so high that Lucifer had to ban them.

Belphie and Satan, being the rebels they are, became yo-yo masters specifically to spite Lucifer.

It was sort of like the fidget spinners craze if you were in school for that.

Oh, hi Lord Diavolo. What’s a fidget spinner? It’s this- I should stop talking...

Since no one learned their lesson from the previous incident, Diavolo threw another BBQ.

“Why are we doing this again?” L!MC asked to no one in particular.

“Don’t worry, L!MC. I’ve taken every precaution possible to make sure that what happened last time doesn’t happen again.” Diavolo said and continued in his crusade to cover the entire pathway with sidewalk chalk doodles.

L!MC, Luke, Diavolo, M!MC, Belphie, and A!MC were all busily drawing a wide variety of doodles and drawings with chalk while the other guests milled around nearby. A!MC was in the middle of drawing quite the nice looking Cerberus chibi, while M!MC and Belphie were drawing a lot of stick figures. L!MC and Luke had just finished a wonderful drawing of... an alpaca? Giraffe? Thing...? Hell, even they didn’t know what it was.

Diavolo looked over at M!MC’s stick figure army with a big smile on his face. “So what are all of them doing? It looks like that one’s flying!”

You could practically hear the Addam’s Family theme play as M!MC and Belphie looked at each other and grinned.

“Oh Belphie was just talking about L!MC’s flying lesson fails and I felt that an artist’s rendition was needed.” M!MC explained, he began to point out certain doodles. “Here’s L!MC getting up off the ground, then there’s them actually flying, and this is them falling in the fountain.”

L!MC looked over at the chalk and glared at M!MC. “It’s generous to call that an artist’s rendition. It looks like crap.”

“And what did you draw?” Belphie smirked at the alpaca-giraffe-thing, Luke protectively covered up the drawing (side note, Luke was wearing white and playing with sidewalk chalk, by the end of the day he looked like a walking pride flag).

“None of your business!” Luke huffed.

“And what about that one?” Diavolo seemed completely oblivious to the hostility brewing between the two groups, A!MC was completely used to this and walked away to grab a drink.

“Ah, good eye, Lord Diavolo!” M!MC chirped. “This is a drawing of the time L!MC almost burned down your kitchen.”

Diavolo laughed and gave M!MC a few pats on the head. “Very accurate!”

“You’re so lucky I followed the rules and didn’t bring a water gun...” L!MC growled as they slowly reached for their backpack.

“Yeah... lucky. Real lucky...” M!MC nodded as they tried to casually reach for their bag, Belphie followed suit.

“I’m so glad we all followed the rules.” Luke smiled, his own hand inching towards his bag.

There was a brief moment of stillness before the four of them whipped out their water guns and pointed them at each other.

“This BBQ ain’t big enough for the both of us!” M!MC’s terrible cowboy impression aside, their gun was poised to shoot directly at Luke and L!MC’s alpaca-giraffe-thing.

“Everyone, I know this is a human world tradition but-”

Belphie silenced Diavolo by pointing his water gun at him. “Sh, don’t talk unless you have a water gun as well.”

Deciding not to smite Belphie for treason, Diavolo pulled his own water gun out of his shirt. “Okay, what now?”

“Now, we’re in a standoff...” L!MC glowered at M!MC, the air was practically crackling with hostility...

Until a burst of flames got everyone to whirl around to see A!MC with hairspray and a lighter.

“No water guns! I refuse to go home shivering and covered in grass again!”

Crisis averted. Everyone went to go fail at throwing beanbags into a hole instead of shooting each other.

That was probably for the best... Belphie filled everyone’s water guns with paint.

The Uncle That Does All the Cooking for Family Dinners (Barbatos)

Remember how I said that Barbs liked smol Lucifer? Yea, he likes smol Asmo too. Smol Asmo is willing to admit that they don’t know how to use an oven and is willing to learn.

M!MC is formally banned from being within 50 feet of the kitchen. It’s for the best.

A!MC often tries to get Barbatos to look into the possible futures so they can see if they can avoid messing anything up and A!MC is just so adorable that Barbatos actually thinks about it.

He still says no every single time.

“Could you at least tell me if I have the possibility of doing something embarrassing in the near future?”

“My apologies, A!MC, but no.”

“P-please?”

“The answer remains the same.”

A!MC sighed and went back to helping chop vegetables. Under Barbatos’ tutelage, A!MC’s cooking ability had increased tenfold, they could now make as many burgers as they wanted without worrying about burning down the kitchen.

Pitying the anxious half-demon, Barbatos sighed. “I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

A!MC perked up. “H-huh?”

“I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

Quickly understanding what Barbatos was trying to do, A!MC quickly nodded and spent the rest of the cooking time carefully taking note of their surroundings.

“Hey! What’re you guys doin’?” M!MC had managed to get in... damn! Everyone must have been putting their best efforts in keeping Solomon away from the kitchen and forgot about M!MC...

“We’re just finishing up, M!MC,” Barbatos had on his ‘oh no...’ smile. “We don’t need any help.”

“Really? You guys sure?”

“Why are you so interested?” A!MC asked.

“Lucifer said that idle hands are the devil’s playthings and that I should go look for something productive to do.” M!MC huffed. “Very ironic phrase.”

“F-fine, I guess you can...” A!MC searched for the least destructive task they could give. “Take the utensils and set the table.”

M!MC gave them a mock salute and grabbed the utensils, as they turned to leave, they knocked a large bowl of chopped fruit over, sending the fruit pieces flying.

Remembering Barbatos’ prediction, A!MC didn’t bother to try and stop the fruit from falling, they only grabbed the nearest big plate they could find and shielded their outfit from harm. The fruit splattered harmlessly against the shield.

“Whoops... my bad. You alright, A!MC?” M!MC asked as A!MC inspected their outfit.

“Y-yes actually...” A!MC turned to Barbatos, who was already getting the cleaning supplies.

“Thank you!” A!MC whispered.

Barbatos smiled and nodded. “You’re very welcome, A!MC.”

Barbatos now has two sorta-children. A!MC and Luke!

M!MC means well, I swear! He just shouldn’t be allowed in a cooking environment!

The Cousin That Your Mom Points at and Goes “Look at Him, He Helps With the Dishes, Be More Like Him.” (Simeon)

Oh man... time for some more embarrassing stories.

“Asmo was the most adorable child, it’s a shame he was such a troublemaker...”

“Really? My dad?”

“What about mine?”

“I think you can guess.”

I cannot comment on Simeon’s help with flying lessons because I refuse to Headcanon what Simeon’s wings look like until canon gives us a GLIMMER. LIKE SERIOUSLY SOLMARE IM CURIOUS-

I have a feeling the children were quite curious as well.

“What do you think his wings look like?” M!MC asked A!MC as the two peered around the corner of one of the hallways in Purgatory Hall.

“I bet they’re super nice. But besides that...” A!MC leaned over and squinted. “Why is Simeon writing with a pen and pencil? He’s writing a book... shouldn’t he use a computer?”

“Bold of you to assume he knows how to use a computer.” M!MC snickered.

A!MC frowned. “Don’t be mean... I’m sure he knows how...”

Simeon picked up his DDD and took a picture of his face, seemingly by accident, with the flash on, causing him to drop the phone in surprise.

“Probably...”

The two surveyed their angel friend like two wildlife documenters, here we see, the Simeon, not in his natural habitat, surrounded by confusing technology...

“Do you think if we scare him his wings might pop out in surprise?” M!MC wondered aloud, A!MC shrugged.

“Maybe... but I don’t think we should bother him...” A!MC whispered. “He looks busy.”

“What are you two doing?”

It took literally every bit of willpower for the two half demons to not scream in absolute terror at the sudden interruption.

Ah... it was just Solomon... in an apron... Solomon... in cooking clothes...

Oh no.

“Spying on Simeon?” Solomon asked.

“N-no...” A!MC giggled nervously. “Just crouching casually in this hallway...”

“...smooth, A!MC.” M!MC rolled their eyes.

“Well, it’s great that you two are here, I made lunch!”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other in pure horror, they needed to get out of there!

“Uh- um... we’d love to but...” M!MC looked around frantically before just pointing at a random spot behind Solomon. “LOOK! A DISTRACTION!”

A!MC and M!MC ran out of there as fast as their legs could carry them. Finding out if Simeon had wings was not worth being poisoned. Not at all...

Good ol’ Simeon... Mr. Cristopher Peugeot on the other hand- M!MC had some questions for him.

“TSL is literally the most popular book series ever, does that mean you’re completely loaded?”

“Oh, no I’m not, I don’t have any use for human world money in the Celestial Realm. All the profits go to charity.”

“...Dude really?”

“That’s nice of you, Simeon!”

“You didn’t keep any of it..?”

Wait... Who the Hell Are You..? (Solomon)

So A!MC basically has three dads; Fabulous-dad, butler-dad, and wizard-dad!

“So you just... have capes lying around?”

“Yes, would you like a cape?”

“Okay if they don’t take the cape I want it.”

Solomon shows up to RAD with his nails painted different wacky styles every week, courtesy of A!MC.

Though- the unholy combination that is M!MC and Solomon is feared by all.

“Road work ahead?”

“Uh, yeah I sure hope it does.”

Solomon and M!MC’s rampant quoting of vines elicited another glare from Lucifer.

Despite Solomon having literally been alive since the seven rulers of hell were angels, he had kept up with pop culture fairly decently. Decently enough that M!MC had someone that wasn’t Levi to bounce memes off.

“Pff...” M!MC suppressed a laugh at a seemingly normal water bottle advertisement. “Enslaved moisture.”

“I’m not going crazy, right Simeon? You’re hearing this too?” Lucifer tiredly turned to the angel, who shook his head.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg. Solomon quacked at M!MC earlier and they lost their minds laughing about it.” Simeon shrugged, unbothered by the sorcerer and the half demon’s rampant meme-ing behind them.

Lucifer on the other hand, was quite bothered. Incredibly bothered, if you will. “If you two don’t shut up right now I’m going to-”

“Quick! We must abscond!” Solomon turned and heelied away, followed by M!MC. The shoes that Mammon bought to replace the ones lost during the casino incident were apparently heelies as well...

The day was saved when a rock jammed one of Solomon’s wheels and he slammed face first into the concrete. Yikes... that had to hurt.

A!MC had fun glow in the dark bandaids for Solomon to patch up his face. Even though he he could heal himself with magic, he let A!MC do what they wanted because they were just too adorable to say no to.

Asmo has pictures

The Cousin Squad (tm)

(Luke, L!MC, A!MC, and M!MC)

Ah yes, the bab squad. The most adorable group in the Devildom. Surrender your candy immediately or face destruction.

M!MC teases the crap out of Luke, and A!MC tries to stop it, but L!MC is the one who manages to actually make M!MC stop.

Only L!MC gets to pick on the smol angel. GOT IT?!

A!MC and Luke are already baking buddies because of butler-dad so they get along swimmingly.

Poor Luke’s the victim of many of M!MC’s shenanigans.

Luke: Are you sure this is safe, M!MC?

M!MC (about to put mentos into the bottle of coke Luke is holding): No.

L!MC and A!MC get along really well, being honest, everyone loves A!MC.

A!MC makes sure L!MC gets some sleep because they don’t want their cousin picking up on Lucifer’s habit of living off of coffee and coffee alone. L!MC doesn’t get it but they’re very grateful anyway.

M!MC and A!MC were friends from the start. Well... M!MC decided they were friends right from the start and A!MC did not have the ability to fight the power of friendship.

M!MC: You are being befriended. Please do not resist.

Since M!MC is great and amazing like their pop, they took it upon themselves to be the friend that speaks up when A!MC is too nervous to do so.

M!MC and L!MC? Lucifer and Mammon 2 electric boogaloo. Sorta.

L!MC and M!MC bicker all the time but the babs bounce back from their fights way easier.

One minute they’re at each other’s throats and the next they’re showing each other memes.

“There’s no escaping this.”

Lucifer stood between M!MC and the door... their one way ticket to freedom...

“You need to go to the dentist.”

The entire HOL plus the Purgatory Hall crew were getting ready to go visit the dentist to get their teeth cleaned. It was the time of the year that Mammon dreaded most... and his child felt the same way.

“My teeth are fine! Lemme stay home! I’ll hold down the fort with dad!” M!MC smiled and nodded as enthusiastically as they could, but even the most unobservant person couldn’t miss the sweat beading on their forehead.

“Beel.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and before M!MC could do anything Beel had thrown them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t worry M!MC, the dentist isn’t that scary.” Beel tried to assure them. By the way M!MC was still kicking and screaming, they were not convinced.

“Y-yeah kiddo, suck it up! Don’t be a baby! I’m just gonna take my car there-”

“MAAAAAAMOOOON?!”

“YIKES!”

Lucifer had the important task of keeping a hold of Mammon as the very large group made their way to the dentist’s office.

A devious little idea popped into L!MC’s head as they all sat down in the waiting room. They began to hum a familiar little tune.

“She said be a deeeentiiiist~ a dentist!” L!MC sang to M!MC, who’s attempts to escape increased tenfold after hearing the song.

A!MC began to hum along, not seeming to notice the commotion going on next to them.

“Son be a deeentiiiiiist~ people will pay you for causing them PAIN! She said be a deeentiiiiiist~”

Belphie perked up and smiled deviously as he realized what L!MC was doing, he began to sing along as well. The three were a veritable choir of terror to poor M!MC. Mammon did not understand his child’s terror and was more unnerved by what a great team Belphie and L!MC made.

Satan rolled his eyes and tried to focus on his book, Asmo was absorbed in his magazine, Levi was having a very in depth conversation with the fish in the aquarium, Simeon and Solomon chatted about school, and Luke was stuck watching the train wreck go down.

Thankfully, it was halted by Lucifer. “L!MC, A!MC, Belphegor, stop tormenting M!MC with show tunes.”

“You would have made a good dentist in another life, Lucifer,” Belphie cooed. “You know what they say, the only difference between a dentist and a sadist is that one has newer magazines.”

Asmo grimaced at his magazine. “Is it the sadist? Because I’m reading a magazine from 1843...”

The conversation was interrupted by one of the dental hygienists coming into the waiting room and saying that Mammon was up first. The Avatar of Greed’s final escape attempt was foiled by Satan (not even looking up from his book) clotheslining him.

Thirty minutes later, Mammon emerged from the forbidden dentist room, with the look of trauma in his eyes and eating a lollipop.

One by one, the group went in, A!MC took it upon themselves to try and make the rapidly panicking Luke feel better.

“It won’t be too scary, in the human world dentists are usually very nice.” A!MC smiled encouragingly.

“I-I’m sure that’s true but...” Luke looked around. “We aren’t in the human world...”

Asmo skipped back in and flashed a blinding grin to the group. “Absolutely perfect, no flaws! It’s your turn, A!MC!”

“If you die I get to say I told ya so!” M!MC shouted as A!MC walked into the dentist’s room.

They did not in fact, die because of the dentist. A!MC walked out and gave a thumbs up. “The dentist said they had never seen a kid with such perfect teeth.”

“That’s my baby!” Asmo chirped.

“M!MC, you’re up.” A!MC and Beel had to practically drag the poor kid out of the room and into the dentist area of doom.

“GO BE A DEEEEEENTIIIIIIST!” Belphie and L!MC shouted one last time as the doors shut. Wow, what dickheads...

Mammon probably would have tried to save his poor little bugger, but he was in the middle an impromptu therapy session with Simeon over the scary scraping dentist knife thingie.

Beel was the last to go, and he walked out of the dentist’s room with his face covered in blood, the dentist walked out after him, missing a hand.

“You tasted like toothpaste.” Beel sighed. “Not good.”

“Don’t worry,” The dentist said to Luke, who looked like he was about to pass out. “My hand will grow back in about four to five minutes.”

Luke, still terrified, nodded. L!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Anyway, almost all of you are fine, but I have to recommend M!MC to the orthodontist.” The dentist flipped through their notepad one-handed. “Their secondary set of fangs are coming out crooked and need to be corrected with braces immediately.”

M!MC sat calmly for a moment, then attempted to sprint out the door. “NO NO NO NO NO!” One of the dental hygienists grabbed them by the back of their shirt and halted their escape.

“Sucks to be you.” L!MC smirked.

“And L!MC needs to fix their cross bite, braces are a strong possibility.”

The colour drained from L!MC’s face as the news dawned upon them. “Pardon, but what exactly are you talking about..?”

“Your top jaw and bottom jaw aren’t properly lined up.” The dentist explained. “It will lead to problems later if it’s not fixed now.”

Lucifer rubbed his temples and sighed. “L!MC, if you try and run away I swear...”

L!MC stiffened and shook their head. “I’m not some coward, I’m not running away. Just... what exactly are you going to do to my mouth?”

The dentist pulled up a few pictures of the braces and explained what would be done. L!MC nodded, and turned to their father with a big smile on their face.

“It won’t be so bad, mind if I go to the bathroom before I get the mold for my teeth made?”

Lucifer nodded and almost audibly sighed in relief. He basked in the glory of having a child that wasn’t afraid of the dentist and faced their fears like an adult-

L!MC sprinted past the dentist’s office, they had busted out of the bathroom window.

“...Beel.”

“Yep.”

A few minutes later, Beel returned with a completely irate L!MC who was screaming their demands to be put down and be allowed to run for the hills. Taking advantage of the distraction, M!MC ran for the door again, only for Belphie to tap them on the forehead.

M!MC collapsed into a snoring heap on the floor.

“FATHER! DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS!” L!MC practically screamed as they tried to wrestle themselves out of Beel’s bear hug.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “L!MC, calm yourself down. It’s just braces.”

“AS EVERYONE HERE AS MY WITNESSES I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS! NEVER!”

The half-demons in need of braces were dragged right back into the dentist’s area... poor fools.

“They’ll be okay... right?” Luke asked.

“Of course they will be. It’s just braces.” Simeon patted Luke on the head. “They’ll both be fine.”

The scream that came from down the hall right after Simeon said that did not reassure anyone.

“Hey,” Mammon piped up. “How much do braces cost?”

“From what I know about dental procedures,” Satan rubbed his chin. “A few thousand Grimm.”

“Mammon if you try and run for that door I will cut your credit card into a thousand pieces.” Lucifer growled.

Overall, it was a fairly average trip to the dentist. 0/10 would not recommend. A few weeks later L!MC and M!MC were fitted with their mouth prisons- I mean braces, and the two cousins bonded over their horrific mouth pain...

Seriously- braces suck.

——————————————

So! Those are the headcanons! Four and a half whole parts... phew... To all the people who enjoyed this series, thank you so so much for reading! You guys have been so super nice!

Fret not, I plan on writing more for this universe! From what I know about season 2 of Obey Me things will get... interesting. Stay tuned for more! Or don’t, I can’t force you.

...or can I?

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Mammon #Obey me MC #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #Obey me Luke #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Fic #Lucifer’s Kid

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crash-cinematic-universe · 3 years

Text

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

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