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aureum-cordis · 2 months

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Lost & Found, Part 4

A/N: Hey! It’s been a short while since my last update, college got a little hectic for me. But I’ve gotta admit, this has been my favorite part to write so far. I really have to thank everyone for checking out this little fic and I appreciate all of the reblogs and follows, as well as the notes! Thank you all so much! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

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You were more than content to have an audience as you drew an amalgamation of little doodles on the page you were provided. CraftyCorn was offering you any crayon, marker, or pencil you even vaguely gestured to while Bobby BearHug rested her head on DogDay’s shoulder.

The dog was unbothered by this, especially since this was the happiest he had seen the other two in what felt like years. He was grateful for this little moment of peace, even if some nagging thought attempted to plague his mind with negativity. It wasn’t as if he would ignore the thought that this could be stripped away just as quickly as it came, but he refused to feed into it.

Even he was surprised by the way he felt fiercely protective over you and the others, not that it was a negative form of surprise at all. You, and that precious little smile on your face as you lifted the page to show the trio of Smiling Critters that you had drawn them, had caused the little amount of hope in his heart to flourish. If you had survived then it was possible that they all could, that this situation wasn’t impossible to walk away from.

He wrapped his arm around the bear that rested her head on his shoulder in a side hug of sorts, allowing his own head to gently press against hers. The two watched as you gestured for CraftyCorn to join you, to which they happily accepted.

You still sat cross-legged on the ground but the unicorn laid on her stomach to join you, taking a crayon between their hooves and helping you in drawing the scenery of your little drawing of the Smiling Critters as well as yourself.

DogDay and Bobby BearHug watched you and the unicorn as you both drew an adorable image of the strange yet endearing quartet they had formed through chance. You and CraftyCorn were passing crayons and markers of various colors between each other, a wordless understanding between the two of you.

The leader of what remained of the Smiling Critters was more than content to just rest against the bear of the group as he watched you enjoy yourself, even if your hands were now covered in various colors from your composition.

You were far from deterred nor were you upset from such a thing, even going as far as admiring the smear of vibrant colors that covered your palms and fingers.

It was something so small yet noticeable that the dog and the bear couldn’t help but laugh softly at the little display, even more so as CraftyCorn lifted her hooves to show you that their luck with the crafts wasn’t all that orderly either.

The unicorn muttered her praises, admiring the way you drew each of them as well as the background they had been helping you design. You shook your head, pointing at yourself and then the Smiling Critter that had joined you.

She paused for a moment, watching your gesture before it finally clicked what you had meant. “Oh, I didn’t contribute much, this was all you. I could never take credit for it.” They replied in an amused yet genuine tone, it wasn’t fair when you had done the majority of the artwork.

You shook your head again, more enthusiastic this time and bent down to point at the paper. One of your small fingers rested on the drawn unicorn on the page, before you pointed at the real one in front of you. CraftyCorn raised her hooves in a manner that bordered on compliant, yielding their stance on rejecting any credit.

The white furred member of the Smiling Critters shifted from the prone position they were in to a seated one as she spoke. “While I still think I didn’t do much, I appreciate that you let me join you. Together, we created something that easily beats anything I have ever drawn alone.” You were positively beaming as you heard the final agreement that left the artist of the quartet.

Slowly, you moved the papers and the art supplies out of the way as you stood up. CraftyCorn was about to speak when you suddenly wrapped your arms around her torso and squeezed her in a warm embrace.

The unicorn was stunned, unsure of what to do at that moment, and turned to look at DogDay and Bobby BearHug. The dog was about to speak when the bear at his side hugged him in an instant, whispering as she did so. “Hug them!” It was a hushed shout in anything but you seemed unphased, nuzzling into the soft fur that was the unicorn’s chest as they gently wrapped their arms around you in return.

The touch was featherlight, as if you would break should any force be applied. Regardless, you were more than happy to be held even if it was by an incredibly careful unicorn.

A tired yawn left your mouth, the sound still audible despite the fact that you hadn’t, or perhaps were unable, to speak a word. With a balled up first, you rubbed one of your eyes which grew teary from the drowsiness that overcame you.

DogDay knew that you would crash soon when he had found you, the bags under your eyes were more than a sign of the sleep deprivation you suffered from. CraftyCorn allowed her arms to fall to her sides as you broke the hug and backed up slightly. Still rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the duo that were still close together.

Bobby BearHug hadn’t let go of DogDay since she had first hugged him and he was content enough to not stop her. He didn’t have the heart to do so, not when she had been so distant until you came along, and because he didn’t mind the contact. With a slow and sluggish gait, you walked over to the two of them.

The orange dog was a little puzzled as you approached, extending the arm that he didn’t have around the bear at his side to you. You grabbed his arm and used it to steady your wobbly steps before you promptly sat yourself down in his lap. The suddenness of your action caused some of the wind to be knocked from him, but not a word of protest left his mouth.

He watched as you curled up in his lap and gently pulled the arm you had been holding onto earlier closer to you. He was more than willing to allow you to do such a thing and if he were able to cry in that moment, he would’ve. You wrapped your little arms around his as his hand rested against your back, supporting you to keep you from falling should you stir in your sleep.

A tired smile rested on your face as you looked up at him, before nestling up against his leg and closing your eyes. Together, all three of the Smiling Critters watched as your little chest rose and fell, falling entirely silent to keep from disturbing you as you rested. Collectively, they could all see how exhausted you were, which was exactly why they were more than willing to let you sleep.

For several long moments, they all remained where they were, simply observing you as you clung to the leader’s arm as if they would vanish if you let go. Carefully, CraftyCorn slowly approached the trio and sat down on the side of DogDay that was unoccupied.

There, she rested their chin on his shoulder and looked down at you, nothing but sympathy and a warmth that would soothe anyone in her gaze. They shifted slightly, resting against the dog with her body to be closer to him and you. He was more than pleased with the action, a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time came to the surface, warming his heart and bringing with it an unbridled sense of joy.

You had brought forth a side to himself and the others that he feared was long gone, yet in this very moment it returned. It wasn’t until he heard a steady and rythmic thumping against the ground did he realize what was happening. His tail was the cause of the sound, wagging openly as a display of his happiness and how overjoyed he was that the others had finally been able to find a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

None of those around him stirred at the disruption nor did they seem bothered by it in the slightest. DogDay himself was embarrassed by the physical reaction that displayed his elation, but it faded as Bobby BearHug continued to embrace him and CraftyCorn’s head now rested on his shoulder and their sides pressed against one another. They were just as content as he was and that only made the thumping of his tail increase in pace.

The only sounds that filled the room were the quiet inhales and exhales of your sleeping form and the sound of the orange dog’s tail as it met the floor as those most important to him were surrounding him. Despite the fact that they had all met you today, they all shared the same sentiment as their leader did. You were now a very dear member of what remained of the Smiling Critters.

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miguxadraws · 2 months

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Hello, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I love your art style so much, and the way you draw Ragatha!!!

Would it be okay if I asked you for advice on how to draw Ragatha's hair?

Thank you!

It's perfectly fine to ask me for advice, but just so you know, I'm not the best at explaining my art processes tbh. I've never done an art tutorial or anything similar to that.

However, I tried making a small guide here on how to draw Ragatha's hair - well, how I draw it at least. It's sort of a rough sketch, but hopefully it'll be useful for you!

First off, I'd like to point out that when I began drawing her character, I used one of her official 2D artworks as reference to draw her hair, not her 3D model!

To be more specific, I used this one:

Another important thing to take into consideration is THE VOLUME her hair has.

If you have curly hair and it's long enough, you might know that to make it have that sweet sweet volume, you gotta style it in LAYERS! The same applies to Ragatha here, which you can actually see in the image above! If you wanna make her hair look voluminous, you need to draw it in layers (Assuming you'll be drawing it similarly to how it looks in canon - like dreadlocks)

Anyways, now onto the process!

1st step - Bangs

When drawing her hair, I will always start by drawing her bangs first. It helps me sort out where the other locks will be going for the most part.

I will always start by drawing the 4 locks that go on top of her forehead. The two in the middle will always be shorter than the ones on the sides, but that's just my preference.

Once that's done, I do the longer locks that go down along the sides of her face.

2nd step - Locks on top + bow

Bow is not mandatory, but I must admit it does make my life easier when i'm drawing her, because then i'll always know where to put the two locks she's got on top of her head - that being right where the bow begins - behind it.

3rd step - Superficial layer!

Once you get the two higher locks and the bangs done, this step becomes way easier. You just gotta fill the gap between them.

I'll normally draw 3 on each side, but of course that will depend on the thickness of the dreadlocks you're drawing. It's overall pretty simple.

I like making these 3 locks more droopy than the other 2 coming from behind the bow, but that's also just my own preference.

4th step - Secondary layer

As you can see in the two examples in the center, the shorter locks on top will sort of flow in the same way as the 2 smaller bangs in her front. They go up, then down.

The longer ones that go behind her neck will just go straight down since they're longer and therefore heavier, just like the two long locks on each side of her face.

Clean up + fixing asymmetry

In the top left example, some of the bangs were asymmetrical, so I fixed that after cleaning up the sketch. Mistakes like these tend to be very noticeable once you clean things up, so try keeping each side as symmetrical as you can to one another, especially if you're drawing her front view.

Anyway, that's pretty much it for my process! I feel like I could've elaborated a bit more and made this more organized, but at the same time I kind of have no idea what to do lol sorry

Still, I hope this helps you out somehow!

#miga answers #art tutorial i guess?#art advice #sounds more fitting ig #also i loved how the one in the top right turned out #i'm saving it for life as a reaction img #my art #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc ragatha #ragatha

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minustwofingers · 1 year

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exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.”

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.”

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid.

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look.

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees.

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.”

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on. I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.”

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes.

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?”

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging.

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously.

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly.

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked.

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.”

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it.

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours.

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.”

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.”

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands.

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion.

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you.

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part.

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look.

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.”

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air.

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse.

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action.

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer.

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun.

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun.

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back.

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you.

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs.

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side,

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.”

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow.

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin.

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.”

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out.

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread.

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen.

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.”

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle.

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.”

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth.

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.”

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied.

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding.

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.”

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point.

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed.

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.”

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain.

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm.

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch.

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you.

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut.

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin.

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair.

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her.

“Trial and error.”

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap.

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.”

Ellie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking.

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.”

“Must be nice.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.”

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.”

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be.

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know.

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford.

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.”

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.”

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.”

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure.

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic.

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.”

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.”

You snorted.

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off.

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable.

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice.

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.”

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.”

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her.

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.”

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up.

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left. “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that.

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest.

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement.

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder.

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead.

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder.

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt.

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts.

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering.

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased.

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.”

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later.

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.”

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?”

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.”

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?”

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens.

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel.

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said.

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?”

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.”

She did not elaborate.

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound.

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did.

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together.

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.”

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.”

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice?

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring.

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense?

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence.

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, why?”

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.”

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.”

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.”

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.”

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?”

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you.

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.”

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart.

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?”

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.”

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.”

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.”

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you.

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to.

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave.

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right.

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.”

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head.

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind.

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before.

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.”

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine

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opencommunion · 6 months

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via RNN:

The eternal martyr Basil Al-Araj wrote abundantly before his ascension in March of 2017. In his posthumously published book, "I Have Found My Answers," (a line from his will) he spoke of war during the 2014 zionist aggression on Gaza, just prior to the IOF ground invasion on July 17.

Basil guided us with eight rules and insights on the nature of war. He wrote:

—

Since there is talk of a ground operation, several points must be considered:

1. The Palestinian resistance consists of guerrilla formations whose strategies follow the logic of guerrilla warfare or hybrid warfare, which Arabs and Muslims have become masters of through our experiences in Afghanistan, Iraq, Lebanon, and Gaza. War is never based on the logic of conventional wars and the defense of fixed points and borders; on the contrary, you draw the enemy into an ambush. You do not stick to a fixed position to defend it; instead, you perform maneuvers, movement, withdrawal, and attack from the flanks and the rear. So, never measure it against conventional wars.

2. The enemy will spread photos and videos of their invasion into Gaza, occupation of residential buildings, or presence in public areas and well-known landmarks. This is part of the psychological warfare in guerrilla wars; you allow your enemy to move as they wish so that they fall into your trap and you strike them. You determine the location and timing of the battle. So, you may see photos from Al-Katiba Square, Al-Saraya, Al-Rimal, or Omar Al-Mukhtar Street, but do not let this weaken your resolve. The battle is judged by its overall results, and this is merely a show.

3. Never spread the occupation's propaganda, and do not contribute to instilling a sense of defeat. This must be focused on, for soon, we will start talking about a massive invasion in Beit Lahia and Al-Nusseirat, for example. Never spread panic; be supportive of the resistance and do not spread any news broadcast by the occupation (forget about the ethics and impartiality of journalism; just as the zionist journalist is a fighter, so are you).

4. The enemy may broadcast images of prisoners, most likely civilians, but the goal is to suggest the rapid collapse of the resistance. Do not believe them.

5. The enemy will carry out tactical, qualitative operations to assassinate some symbols [of resistance], and all of this is part of psychological warfare. Those who have died and those who will die will never affect the resistance's system and cohesion because the structure and formations of the resistance are not centralized but horizontal and widespread. Their goal is to influence the resistance's support base and the families of the resistance fighters, as they are the only ones who can affect the men of the resistance.

6. Our direct human and material losses will be much greater than the enemy's, which is natural in guerrilla wars that rely on willpower, the human element, and the extent of patience and endurance. We are far more capable of bearing the costs, so there is no need to compare or be alarmed by the magnitude of the numbers.

7. Today's wars are no longer just wars and clashes between armies but rather are struggles between societies. Let us be like a solid structure and play a game of biting fingers with the enemy, our society against their society.

Finally, every Palestinian (in the broad sense, meaning anyone who sees Palestine as a part of their struggle, regardless of their secondary identities), every Palestinian is on the front lines of the battle for Palestine, so be careful not to fail in your duty.

#palestine

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shepscapades · 4 months

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GOD DAYUM

So the part 5 thing huh? Welp IT'S GOOD I LOVE IT

Because X is my blorbo I just wanted to point out some things here

MMMMMMMM HE HAS LONG HAIR??? I mean *looks at my posts* long hair fits him absolutely [Still not sure if he has long hair or not but looks like he has his hair tied in a ponytail or in a bun, I don't know it just looks like it on the second image]

[oh and also he called him "Doc" again, instead of Docm which I don't know what could mean in this situation yet, but one day it'll probably make sense as we get more parts]

This Etho right here looks either terrified or confused, and I think it's because

X is going to go absolutely crazy and he's scared that X is now in control [based on the "you dropped your crown king'' caption that might refer to Etho who isn't the attacker anymore but could also refer to Xisuma which I'll explain later]

2. He finally snapped back into his senses

3. he sees X without his helmet for the first time and his good 'ol computer brain is like '??????? Who tf is that"

"you dropped your crown king" could also refer to X as his helmet got destroyed in process [being the crown] and from what I know, we don't know the reason for why X wears helmet in this AU. The most popular headcannon for his armour and helmet is that he's a voidwalker and can't breathe in the overworld, we don't know if it's a thing in this AU but if it is that could mean that now he's powerless, he "dropped his crown" - he became weaker, powerless against his enemy. Also Doc looks kinda scared, or maybe just surprised after seeing X's face for probably first time. [if he's scared, then he's probably aware of Xisuma's condition when it comes to air]

NESTLE CRUNCH

But also poor Doc he looks horrified

ALSO

*looking for lore through old posts* huh these seem familiar... WAIT

AND THE DATE THOSE WERE POSTED

[it's in Polish sorry, but it says 13th October]

SO THE COMIC HAS BEEN SKETCHED OUT SO EARLY?? Damn those really take long to do, I mean I was aware of that fact but It's been like 3 months since those sneak peeks have been posted and WOW THAT'S A WHOLE LOT OF MOTIVATION YOU HAVE HERE SHEP

[also only now noticed how in this panel Etho's body sketch is red as a sign that he's the danger in Doc's eyes and Xisuma's is green/blue. Oh and in the first sketch X didn't have his hair visible in the visor hee hee ]

So yes, loved it, even if there were only 3 images I still think it's amazing ! We got to see your Xisuma a bit [he- he handsome -makes big eyes]

Sorry for the long ask again!! just!! excited!!

Now I'm going into my drawing cave as I'm full of inspiration already bye bye <333

(also also to reiterate, I have no idea how long part 6 will take since I just kinda have rough storyboarding for the rest of the comic, and classes just started up again— this is my exhibition semester so most of my drawing energy will be prioritized for my grad gallery… we will wait to see how much energy I have left by the day for destruction :3)

ALSO ALSO ALSO! “You dropped your crown king” was absolutely me trying to find a silly caption for what’s supposed to be a serious/dramatic part of the story while also referencing the fact that Xisuma’s helmet shattered/fell off— there are many conspiracies and clues to be had here but I just wanted to clarify that that line is not one of them SFKDFGHJ

I will therefore also not directly respond to anything else being discussed here BUT thank you as always for sharing your theories and analysis!! It always makes my day >:D

#LOVE IT #dbhc ask #1-marigold-1 #ask #dbhc xisuma #dbhc doc #destruction #dbhc etho #the shepherd #my sona #art escapades

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buf309 · 7 months

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Pose Reference Resources

I promised Dia (aka aerequets) that I will make a collection of pose references in the reply of one of her art posts, and then I completely forgot about it. Until now. I'm sorry for my bad memory.

So, yeah, better late than never I guess?

The pose collection I use the most is no longer free. They used to let you download a whole album (more than 8GB worth of data) to use offline, but now you have to pay $40/package or $200 for full sets. I still have the zip file for a very old version of theirs, but I can't legally share it. So, let's skip to the other options.

1/ First, you heard of those 3D dolls program that let you model your own reference pose? This one is an online one and for free, the whole ordeal. Of course since it's online and free, you can't save your model for next time, and it costs quite a lot of time to set the model up. So, you should take as much screenshots in as many tricky angles as you need once you done with the setting. Best using for complicated scenes where those below don't have what you need already available.

2/ This one is free and in 3D, you can rotate the model to any angle that you need. The only set back is the numbers of poses are quite limited. This one is best for using as a basic blocks then build up what you want to draw, or just as a practice to improve your understanding of human anatomy.

3/ This one is free for personal uses and the pose collection is massive. The setbacks are the language barrier (it's in Japanese, English is sometimes tag-a-long) and you have to search through their pages for what you need. The pics for each pose is static but they are in different angle in almost 360 degrees. There are many 2-person and 3-person poses too. Great for illustration inspiration.

4/ This one will only show reference photos of human head, at whatever angle you rotate the model. The web interface is easy to use. There are options like searching based on gender, ages, emotions, glasses, facial hair or not, etc. Good for practicing face drawing.

5/ This one will show reference photos for human body parts, at whatever angle you rotate the model, read the instructions for how to do it. The web interface is quite hard to use at first, just tinkering around for a bit, and you will be fine. There are options like searching based on gender and which particular parts that you need refs for. Good for that moment when you go "huh? how is this <body part> will look in this <situation>????"

6/ This one will only show reference photos of animal heads, and only the head, at whatever angle you rotate the model. The accurate skull refencence list is their best point. There are enough common species in the drop down list. Tbh, I don't use this much because I often need refs for the whole animal most of the time. But it's best for furry artists, I guess?

7/ Real model photos. They sell pose reference in themed packs, but there are enough free packs to use as drawing practice too.

8/ This is the best for general background reference. Lots of options. Not really good for very specific location results, but good for random background in drawings.

9/ Lastly, for specific objects or background references at strange angles, I often search for 3D models on this site then take screenshots of whatever I need.

That's all, folks. Hope this list can help ease some of the struggles that we will encounter on our quest of learning the art of drawing things 😂

#reference #digital art reference

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sara-scribbles · 10 months

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Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 1)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 6,974 Notes: I've been reading a lot of isekai lately, which sparked this story. Hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, reader uses she/her pronouns

Part 1 Part 2, Part 3

“The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message after the beep. After, you may…” Letting out a deep sigh, you wait for the message to finish.

“Hey, Idia, it’s me. I know you’re probably gaming right now, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be dropping by later today.” You pause before darting across the street. You nearly get hit by a car but make it on the sidewalk unscathed.

“Anyways, I finished ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ and that was the cringiest thing I’ve read! I’ll give you the full review when I come over.”

Ending the call, you shake your head at the phone screen. You head down the stairs to the subway while shooting Idia another text. Not watching where you’re going, your foot misses a step and you're sent careening down the stairs.

“Watch out!” a voice shouts.

---

You black out momentarily before regaining consciousness. Something feels off but you can’t quite place what. Your head pounds and your body aches. You can hear muffled voices.

Eyes opening, unfamiliar faces stare down at you. “Your highness?” someone asks.

Sitting up, you reach for your head but freeze when you realize that isn’t your hand. “Please be careful, your highness.”

Slowly studying the hand, you wave it around. You ignore the whispers and looks. You slowly reach your face, but it doesn’t feel like your face. Looking further down, you notice the clothes you’re wearing are completely different.

“W-what’s going on?” You slap a hand over your mouth. Definitely not your voice.

An elderly man leans down. “You fell off your horse, your highness. Are you feeling okay?”

You stare at him, before pointing to yourself. “A-are you talking to me?”

His brows draw together as he gives a concerned glance behind you. “You took quite a tumble so you might be a little out of sorts.”

He reaches to help you up, but you jerk away. Standing on your own, your head continues to throb painfully. You push past the group of people. You’re not sure where you're going, but your feet seem to know. Your brain is too scrambled to even notice your surroundings. Rushing down hallways and past other people, you enter into a room and lock the door.

Your gaze immediately falls on the full length mirror. As you slowly approach, the reflection in the mirror is not your own. You touch the cold surface and so does the image. Reaching up, you slap your cheeks a few times, the image does too. Your face stings.

“What the hell!?” And then your headache intensifies. You crumble to the floor clutching your head. Memories that aren’t yours flood your mind before you blackout once more.

---

You can’t believe you’re in Idia’s horrible isekai novel. Worse, you’re in the body of the secondary villain! She wasn’t very important to the story besides a vehicle to drive the plot. She didn’t even get a name. The story was from the protagonist's point of view, so you learned very little of the queen. In the end, she and her family died a fiery death after their nefarious plans to control the dragon king, Malleus Draconia, were uncovered by the protagonist.

Based on her memories, her marriage to the dragon king was six months ago. So, you had six more months before the arrival of the protagonist. Which also meant you had half a year before you’d be burned to death. You had no plans on dying. Again.

Crawling out of bed, you head to the connected bath. The maids had drawn a hot bath. Glancing in the bathroom mirror, you get a flash of her back. Old and newer scars crisscross the expanse of skin. The first time you saw them, you were flooded with horrible memories. Memories of a younger version crying while being beaten within an inch of her life. You tried to stay away from mirrors as much as possible.

Being the secondary villain, she isn’t really what you’d call evil. In the story, she came off like an emotionless puppet. The queen has a unique magic that can turn someone’s heart to ice, which allows her to control them. Ironic really. From what you remember from the story, the dragon king is too powerful, so her unique magic didn’t work right away. Over the course of a year, she uses her magic on him everyday. This causes him to become distant and easier to manipulate. When she’s almost successful, the king meets the protagonist, who immediately melts his frozen heart. It’s honestly so cliche, you had a hard time getting to the end. When you read the story, you felt nothing for the villains.

Having the queen’s memories, you feel bad for her. Her entire life was dictated by her parents, the duke and duchess. From what she wore to what she ate to what kind of instrument she played, it was chosen for her. Any sense of rebellion was quickly beaten out of her from a young age. She was molded into the perfect puppet that her parents could control. She had no say in the plan. From what you can tell, she didn’t even have any feelings about the king. Or anything for that matter.

Truly a sad villain.

After being found passed out on the floor, you were put on strict bed rest for a few days. According to the doctors the fall from the horse caused the queen to stop breathing for a few minutes. You wonder if at that time she had died, you had somehow entered her body. It didn’t feel like you’re sharing the body with anyone. The only thing left behind are her memories and lingering emotions.

During the mandatory bedrest, you hatched a plan. You need to get the dragon king to be your ally. Sure he’s technically this body’s - your body now - husband, but at this point in time, he’s become very distant because of her magic. You would stop using the magic on him, and hopefully he would return to normal. Then, when the protagonist shows up, they can take down the real villains. You’d have an amicable divorce and live the rest of your life out in peace.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. Operation save yourself from certain fiery death starts now!

---

“Your highness, are you feeling better?” the old butler, Diablo, from before asks. He sets down a tea tray. Having been with the Draconia family for ages, he’s assigned to watch over the queen.

“Yes, my head doesn’t hurt anymore. The delicious food helps.” If there’s one thing you like about this new life, it’s the food. You could stuff your face with food and never be tired.

The salt-and-pepper haired man pauses but quickly collects himself. He pours another cup of tea while you finish up breakfast. “I’m glad to see you’ve gained a healthy appetite.”

Pausing mid-bite, you remember that the queen only picked at her food. Her memories often depicted a somber scene while she ate by herself. No talking or eye contact was ever made. She never bothered to hide her disinterest.

When you read the book, you didn’t feel too bad for the queen. The author barely wrote about her except when the story needed to continue. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t like the story. The queen was a lackluster villain while her parents were almost cartoonishly evil. The protagonist had been a little better, but still somewhat flat. However, you assumed the appeal was the sweet romance between the two. The romance was actually kind of cute. Speaking of romance, you have yet to see the dragon king in person.

“Your highness?” Diablo brought you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You realize your teacup is empty. “Did I drink that?”

He nods. “Yes, your highness. You were deep in thought while taking sips.”

You’re surprised you didn’t dribble any on you. Maybe it’s all due to the rigorous etiquette training the queen had gone through. “Is there anything I have planned today?”

“Not today, your highness.”

Great, you have the whole day to do whatever you want. “Diablo, where is the king?”

“In his study. He’s been up before the crack of dawn,” he informs you.

Thanks to her memories, you know exactly where his study is. You also know she never bothers him until she has to use her magic. However, now that this is your life, you plan to do whatever it takes to save yourself from dying.

“Thank you, Diablo.” Leaving the dining hall, you head to your dear husband’s study. Diablo follows a few paces behind.

“Are you planning to visit his highness?” he inquires.

He’s always with you. “Yes. I thought we could spend some time together.” Glancing behind you, his face is a neutral mask.

He merely nods when he meets your gaze. “An excellent idea, your highness.”

Arriving at the door to his study, you knock. There’s no answer. “Are you sure he’s here?”

“Yes. He rarely leaves his study until lunch time, your highness. Would you like me to check?” He gestures to the door.

“No, that’s okay. I can do it.” Grabbing the handle, you pull the door open. The room is mostly dark due to the curtains being drawn closed. Stepping inside, your eyes adjust to the gloom.

Malleus Draconia is an intimidating figure. Even sitting down he seems to tower over everything. His inky black hair contrasts with his pale skin. His most characteristic trait are the obsidian colored horns on his head. They gleam even in the low light. The lamp on his desk casts shadows on the bookshelf behind him. He’s very fitting for a male lead.

He doesn’t make a move to look up from his work. “Is there something wrong, Diablo?”

The old butler clears his throat. “No, your majesty.”

“I came to see you.” You paste on a smile though it’s a lot more work than you thought. It’s as if this face has never smiled, which wouldn’t be a surprise.

Malleus does look up when you speak. For a brief second his eyes widen before his brows draw together. “Is there something wrong, my queen?” His gaze remains dull. His eyes are like the color of old, dried leaves.

Stepping forward so you’re standing in front of his desk, you shake your head. “Nothing is wrong. Do I need a reason to visit you?”

His expression smooths. He has a cool, detached look. “Of course not. This palace is your home, you are allowed to go wherever you want. Do you need something?”

Clasping your hands together, you lean closer. “I was wondering if we could do something together. Once you’re done with everything, of course.”

He returns back to the paperwork. “I don’t know if I’ll have time. There’s a lot of things I need to do. And the war with the Queendom of Roses takes precedence…”

You blink twice. “War?”

“Yes. Your father had mentioned how the Queendom has been encroaching on his territory. He says they’re looking to take over more and more of Briar Valley. We should act before they even have a chance,” he explains.

Well this is the first you’ve heard of a war. However, if memory serves your right, your parents had invested interest in the land bordering the Queendom of Roses. Your home is a small land squished between two mighty kingdoms. Though not technically royalty, your parents are basically the rulers. They wanted to expand, but couldn’t. Unless…a war breaks out somehow. Compared to the Queendom, Briar Valley is far superior in magical combat. You’re pretty sure all Malleus has to do is wave his hand to annihilate the country off the map if he so wished.

Chewing on your lip, you wonder if there’s anything you can do to prevent this. You’d rather not let your so-called parents win anything. “How about we have lunch in the garden later?”

His hand pauses in writing. “You wish to eat together?” he asks, not looking up.

“Yes, I’d like to.” You’re determined to spend some time with him. Your life is at stake!

“Alright.” He returns back to writing.

Inwardly giving yourself a pat on the back, you flash him a smile even though he can’t see it. “I’ll see then, your majesty.”

Leaving the office, Diablo quietly closes the door. “Where can I find more information about the Queendom of Roses?”

“We can start at the royal library. I’m sure the head librarian can help find what you’re looking for.” Diablo leads the way.

---

You're late for lunch. Getting lost in the research about the Queendom of Roses, you forgot the time. Thankful Diablo came to remind you. Rushing to the gardens with an armful of papers and a few books, you easily navigate your way through the maze of the palace thanks to the former body’s memories.

Arriving, you immediately spy Malleus waiting at the table. Food is set out along with a tea cart. He looks utterly bored. However, he seems to perk up a bit as you come closer. Diablo immediately pulls out the chair for you to sit.

“Sorry I’m late! I got so lost in reading that I didn’t realize the time.” You place the books and papers on the table.

“What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the mess.

Trying to make a neater pile, you tap the top of one book. “I’ve been doing some research on the Queendom of Roses. And I don’t think going to war with them would be beneficial.”

“Oh?” He leans back, interest sparking his usual dull green eyes.

Opening one of the books with a map, you point to the page. “The Queendom of Roses is rich in natural resources when it comes to crops. A war would most likely ruin the land, and even magic wouldn’t be able to bring it back to what it once was.”

You rifle through your papers before finding the one you want. Placing it over the book, you continue, “Briar Valley lacks in certain resources when it comes to agriculture. We could make a trade agreement with the Queendom for their crops. It would greatly benefit the people.”

Malleus ponders your words. “And what of them encroaching on your country?”

“They have no need to expand nor do they have the power to do so.” You gesture to another book. “I doubt it’s on purpose.”

He stares at you. “So, are you saying your father lied? Was he trying to spark a fight between us and another country?”

Biting your tongue, you resist the urge to spill the truth. “I’m sure he was overreacting. Being such a small country, father takes the people’s safety as utmost. But I do think a war would be a waste of resources, time, and lives.”

Diablo clears the table of your things before serving lunch. Malleus eyes you curiously. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly without hesitation.

Picking up a fork, he spears a tomato slice. “Alright. We won’t go to war with the Queendom.” He turns to Diablo, “Let Lilia know to stand down. I’ll work on drafting a proposal to the Queendom later.”

The butler bows before leaving. You let out a deep sigh but straighten up when you realize Malleus is watching you. “Thank you, your majesty.” You’re glad he didn’t fight you on this. Though maybe due to the queen’s magic, he’s too apathetic to care.

“Somethings changed about you,” he muses aloud. You stiffen as panic starts to build. “Are you feeling well?” he inquires.

“I’m fine, your majesty.” You try to smile convincingly but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“I heard you fell off your horse a few days ago. No lingering aches or pains?” he probes. Why’s he suddenly interested? He didn’t visit once while you were on bedrest.

You stab a carrot. “I feel fine. I did some thinking and decided I wanted to take a more active role. I am the queen, so I should be doing more.” The lie slips easily off your tongue.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I see…”

---

For the rest of the day, you try your best to read into the current situation of Briar Valley. It seems the queen didn’t bother with anything related to politics. All she seemed to do was sit in her room until she was needed. You had many memories of staring blankly at a wall or something equally mundane.

You know there’s probably rumors of how the queen seems to be a different person. One of the maids had mumbled something about the fall knocking her brain around. You could care less what they said as long as you managed to change your fate. Knowing the situation of the country you supposedly co-ruled is a good start.

At least it doesn’t seem like your parents are causing too much trouble. Beyond trying to instigate a war with the Queendom of Roses, they’ve been quiet. Perhaps they’re waiting for the queen’s magic to take hold before doing anything drastic. If your plan works, they’ll be in jail soon.

You’re curled up in bed with a thick history book about Briar Valley. Having taken out a few books from the royal library, your room is starting to look like a mess with the books all over the place. You know the basics about the country from her lessons, but you want to go more in depth. It’s best to know everything you can.

There’s a knock at the door that links to Malleus’s room. Out of habit you glance around for the digital clock at your bedside. But it’s not there. “Of course…”

During your isolation in the bedroom, you found out from her memories that Malleus and the queen do not share a bed. Instead they each have their own rooms, which are connected by a door. However, the queen keeps her door locked. The only time it’s unlocked is when Malleus comes over for an hour before bed every other week. She had made up some excuse about wanting to spend a little time with him before bed. It’s the dumbest excuse you’ve heard but somehow he bought it.

Maybe he wanted to please the queen? Maybe he really is that naive about what couples do? Whatever the reason for him to agree to this ritual, it had made it easier for the queen to cast her magic.

Slipping out of bed, you unlock the door. Malleus stands there in casual clothes. He doesn’t look ready for sleep, but he does tend to stay up late from what Diablo said. You have to bite back the smile when you notice the black dragon slippers on his feet. Very dignified.

“Uh… hi…” This is certainly awkward. “The room’s a little messy, but the bed’s mostly clear.”

Malleus glances around, his eyes landing on the book you had been reading. “History of Briar Valley?”

You lead him to the bed. He sits at the edge of the bed while you scoot closer to the middle. You draw your legs up to your chest. Without asking, he holds out his hand. “Just some light reading,” you joke as you take his hand.

“...”

You really can’t just sit there in silence for an hour holding his hand. “Where’d you get those slippers?” you ask suddenly.

He blinks slowly while looking down. “Lilia gave them to me for my birthday last year. He said a king shouldn’t walk around barefoot.”

Very reasonable. “They’re cute.”

“Thank you. Would you like a pair?”

“Um, sure.” His hand is surprisingly comfortable to hold.

He nods. “I will ask Lilia to order once he returns.”

“...”

You glance at your discarded book. “Do you mind if I read?” You aren’t sure how she was able to sit for an hour staring off into space. This is too weird!

He shakes his head. “Go ahead.”

Grabbing the book with your free hand, you adjust your position and place it on your lap. As you return to reading, you can almost forget Malleus is next to you. Almost. A few times you can feel his intense stare, but when you look back, he’s looking at the far wall.

You’re only a few chapters in when he clears his throat. Looking up, he opens his mouth, but then closes it. “Yes?” You wait patiently for him to gather his words.

“The book mentioned the war with the old fae, but it’s wrong,” he informs you after a pause.

“It is?” You glance down at the date. “This took place almost a thousand years ago. Don’t tell me you were there?” Fae are long lived creatures, but you don’t think Malleus is that old.

He shakes his head. “No. Lilia would sometimes tell me stories from when he was in the army. I remember everything he said clearly. The war did not start the way the book states. Though I assume the author could only speculate since most don’t know the truth.”

“How did it start?” You lean closer, interested to hear what he has to say.

“Well…”

---

“...and then everything went up in flames.”

“No!” Eyes widen as your mouth falls open.

“Unfortunately, yes. I hate to admit it, but my control on my flames was not that good.” He sighs, covering his face with his free hand.

Chuckling, you give his hand an involuntary squeeze. “You were young. It’s not like you meant to set everything on fire.”

“That’s true, but for a long time I wasn’t allowed to do anything related to fire.” His lips quirk upward while you try and fail to cover your laughter.

“I-I’m not laughing at you. I just had an image of a smaller version of you.” Your shoulders shake. “I’d love to see a picture of when you were younger.” You can just see a small Malleus pouting while being told he’s not allowed to use his flames.

“I believe there’s a few portraits that were done when I was younger. They’ve been put away, but they should be in the royal storehouse,” he says thoughtfully.

Having calmed down, you shake your head. “Too bad there’s no candid photos of you…”

“Hmm?” He peers at you. “Is seeing a younger version of myself really that interesting?”

You flash him a quick smile. “Of course. Seeing a mini version of you would be so interesting. I’m sure you were very cute,” you tease.

He doesn’t seem to know how to take your comment. Staring at you blankly, his hold on your hand tightens slightly for a second. “Cute?”

“Well, I mean you look…you look, um, nice now. So it’s easy to assume you’d be a cute kid.” Now you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed.

“I see… So that means you were also cute as a child,” he says in all seriousness.

Did he just give a compliment? You’re unsure what to say. Eyes darting around the room, you clear your throat. “Right. I think we’ve gone over time.” You immediately release his hand.

Malleus straightens up. “I’m sorry.”

He almost looks hurt. You quickly wave off his worry. “No need to apologize! I shouldn’t keep you.”

Standing, you follow Malleus to the door. You catch a glimpse of his dark room. “Good night, your majesty.”

“Good night…” He glances back as the door closes. You turn the lock in place with a click.

Heading to bed, you lay there surrounded by many pillows. A feeling of loneliness settles deep in your chest. You wonder how Idia and everyone else has taken the news of your death.

---

You let out a cough as dust billows out from the curtains. The once gloomy study at least looks a little better with natural light. The queen has her own study across from Malleus’s, but she never used it. It overlooks the garden below. You decided it would be a good place for you to work. And having so many books in your bedroom is starting to be a little too much.

“I do apologize for the dust, your highness. If you want, I can fetch someone to do a quick clean,” Diablo offers.

Wiping a finger along the desk, you note the layer of dust. “I think that would be for the best. While someone cleans up here, I’m going to gather the materials from my room.” The butler bows before leaving.

Leaving the study door open, you go back to your room. Gathering all the books and papers into a stack, you eye the leaning tower. You could make a few trips to ensure nothing will fall. But the less trips you have to make, the quicker you can get down to business.

Carrying the precarious tower of books while tucking the papers under one arm, you walk slowly down the hall. A few maids stop and offer to help, but you wave them off. You’re fairly certain you can handle this.

You’re nearly there when the papers from under your arm slip out. Narrowing your eyes, you shift the balance of the books to one hand. Slowly squatting, you reach out your free hand to try and pick up the papers while keeping an eye on the stack.

“Come on…” Your fingers brush against the papers. “There!” And the tower of books wobbles dangerously. “Don’t you dare…” Unfortunately the books do not listen and the stack tilts over.

But before they can fall, they start to float. Staring at the sight, the rest fly out of your hand. Realizing now that you’re not alone, you finally notice Malleus standing outside his study. He waves his hands and the books fly over to him. They stack neatly while floating at his side.

He gestures to the books. “It seemed that you needed help.”

Picking up the papers, you sigh. “Thank you. I thought I could make it…”

He follows you into the study. “You’ve decided to use the office,” he mumbles aloud. He sets the books on the now clean desk.

“I thought it would be better than my bedroom. And the view is nice,” you explain with a chuckle. “Since you’re across the way, feel free to visit.”

Malleus takes in the nearly empty room. Since the queen had never used it, there were no personal items. He turns back to you. “Do you want to write up the proposal for the Queendom of Roses?”

You owlishly blink. “M-me?”

“Yes. You are the one who came up with the idea. It would only be appropriate for you to draw up the proposal.”

Sure you had all her memories of how to be a proper queen. But she had never done any of her duties. Instead they were all dumped on Mallues. From her memories, he never said a word. He left the queen alone to do what she wanted.

Nervously licking your lips, you slowly nod. “I’ll try my best…”

“I can look over it once you're done,” he offers.

“Okay… Right, let me just start working on this.” Scrambling around your desk, you start shuffling through the papers. Malleus leaves you to your work.

---

Pouring through books on treaties and negotiations, you attempt to draft up a proposal. Diablo provides you with a few old proposals that were made back in the day. You also try to keep in mind the etiquette the Queendom of Roses has. They have a lot of rules; eight-hundred and ten to be exact.

If you want the proposal to be accepted, you need to ensure you’re following all their rules as well. It’s honestly ridiculous, but you’re determined to get this done right. If you can do this and show Malleus you’re capable, it’s bound to make you more favorable in his eyes. All you need is for him to think of you favorably by the time the protagonist shows up.

You crumble up another sheet of paper and toss it on the floor. The proposal writing isn’t going very well. Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, you set down your pen. “Diablo, what time is it?”

“It’s nearly five, your highness,” he answers right away. You hear him snap the cover of his pocket watch closed. He comes in and out of your office offering tea and snacks. “Perhaps, it’s time you take a break,” he advises.

Groaning, you stand up. “Fine!” You probably sound like a child, but you wanted to get this done as soon as possible. However, you’ve barely made a dent.

“Might I suggest a walk in the garden to clear your head?” He bows. “The weather is lovely and some sun will do you good, your highness.”

Following his advice, you head out to the garden. It really is a beautiful place. Inhaling deeply, you feel some tension leave your body. “Mhmm! You’re right, Diablo. I needed this.”

The old butler bows. “I’m glad my suggestion is helping.”

You continue your leisurely walk through the gardens. There’s still something bothering you about this marriage. Your country is much smaller and weaker compared to Briar Valley. In regards to value, Briar Valley got the short end of the deal. And based on what you remember in the book, Malleus had no feelings for the queen. His one true love would be the protagonist. So why on earth did he agree to the marriage in the first place? The author never explained it.

“Your highness?” Diablo’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” He gestures to Malleus, who had at some point shown up. “Oh! Hello, your majesty.”

Malleus looks surprised to see you. “I did not expect to see you here.”

Right, because the queen usually spent her days locked in her room. “I just needed some air. I’ve been working on the proposal but haven’t had much luck.”

He nods. “I see.” You watch as his eyes dull and his face falls back into a stoic expression. The queen’s unique magic is still in effect. “If you need help, I’m sure there are some old proposals Diablo can find for you to use as samples.”

“He’s already done that. I think I just need more time to wrap my head around it.” You can only hope the unique magic effects will wear off eventually. “What brings you out here?”

Mallues holds up a watering can. “I wanted to tend to the roses.” You realize now that he’s actually dressed down. “I know we have the gardeners to take care of everything, but I do like to tend to the roses once and awhile,” he continues. “I haven’t felt up to the task recently, but today seems like a nice day.”

The image of the regal king of Briar Valley taking care of flowers pops into your head unbidden. It’s actually quite a heart warming image. “I didn’t realize you had a green thumb,” you joke. He really doesn’t seem the type to get down and dirty.

Head tilting slightly, he regards you coolly. “There’s a lot of things I like to do. I guess we just haven’t had much time to learn about each other.” There’s no maliciousness in his words, but it still hurts. And even though you know it’s not your fault, you still feel a bit bad.

“I guess we’ve been busy…” you respond lamely. Sighing, you look over to Diablo, but he’s busy minding his own business. “Do you mind if I…if I help?”

“If you want to.” He hands you the watering can. “I’ll do some pruning over there. You can start watering them over in that area.” He’s all business as he directs you.

Despite not being dressed properly for garden work, you don’t comment. Watering plants is fairly easy compared to pruning. As you silently water the plants, you watch Mallues from the corner of your eye. He’s laser focused as he works quickly and efficiently. He’s obviously done this a lot.

By the time you're done, you're sweating, dirty and exhausted. Your clothes are smeared with dirt from the times you leaned a bit too close. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you can feel the fatigue in your body. The queen never did hard work, and you can tell just by how raw your hands feel. Gripping the watering can so much had caused the skin to blister and break.

“Your highness, I believe it would be best to go inside and rest,” Diablo called. The old butler had hovered around you with concern, but you had waved him off. You were determined to get this done without any help. Anything to get on Malleus’s good side.

You can feel the sweat clinging to you like a second skin. “I think you’re right…” you huff. The sun continues to shine down rather harshly as you peer up. “I think I need a bath,” you mumble.

Swaying as you walk, you stumble a few times. Diablo is by your side immediately. “Your highness!”

“Damn this body,” you mutter. Your vision is blurry as Diablo’s voice fades in and out. “I need a nap, Diab-” Then everything goes black.

---

When you wake, your body no longer feels like lead. You sit up in bed. Someone had changed you out of your clothes and into something clean. Panic settles in unbidden at the thought of someone seeing your - the queen’s - back. It’s something she wanted to keep hidden from everyone. Even if she’s no longer in the body, her emotions still linger. Some are stronger than others. This particular topic is a sensitive one.

“You’re awake, your highness.” Diablo stands from his seat in the corner of your room. Your head whips around in his direction.

“Who changed me?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Standing at your bedside, he bows. “I did.”

The silence stretches on. Then, “Did you…?”

“I did not see anything, your highness,” he responds smoothly.

Your body relaxes. “Okay.”

Standing up straight, he adjusts his jacket. “Your highness, if you ever wish to talk, know that I am here. Whatever you say to me remains confidential. From everyone.”

A small smile forms on your lips. “Thank you, Diablo.”

Diablo nods. “His majesty wanted to know once you woke up. I will get him.” Giving one last bow, he leaves your room. After a few minutes, Malleus sweeps into the room and to your side.

He suddenly drops down on one knee and bows his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Pl-please stand, your majesty!” You wave your hands around uselessly.

Looking up, there’s something different in his gaze. “I should have realized you aren’t used to working outside like that. Instead of watching out for you like a good husband, I ignored you. Please forgive me.”

Reaching over, you try to push his shoulders to stand, but he does not budge. “Your majesty, I am fine. It’s partially my fault as well. I shouldn’t have pushed myself when I knew I needed rest.” Hands falling on your lap, you sigh. “Please stand, Malleus.”

That seems to have an effect. He slowly stands up. “Still, I should have checked in on you. I promise this won’t happen again.”

Patting the bed, you gesture for him to sit. He perches himself precariously on the edge. “I don’t mind helping with the roses. I want to spend more time with you doing things like this,” you tell him. “You’re right that we barely spend time together, so I’d like to remedy that.” You take his hand in your own.

He’s silent as he stares at your connected hands. Then, “I’d like that as well.”

There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Holding his hand feels comfortable. And dear you say his hand feels safe? It’s a strange feeling but not unwelcome. You feel closer to him now.

“What do you want to do?” he asks suddenly.

You manage to pull your gaze from your interlocked hands. “What?”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly. “You said you want to spend more time together. What did you want to do?”

“Right now?” He nods. “Uh…I don’t think my body can do much.” You look around before your eyes fall on a stack of books. “I was planning on reading a few of Briar Valley’s folklores. Do you want to read together?” It’s rather boring but you really don’t want to move.

Malleus gets up to grab the books. You scoot over to make room for him. He hesitates. “Come on. I promise I won’t bite.”

Sitting on the bed while propped up against the headboard, he hands you the books. “Lilia has read these to me before. But it’s been a long time,” he comments.

“It’ll be a refresher for you and something new for me.” Sharing the book between you two, you flip open to the first story. “Once upon a time…”

---

As promised, you spend a little more time with Malleus. You don’t do anything too exciting like little walks through the garden or reading together. The latter he seems to enjoy a lot. Sometimes he would pop into your office just to check-in. He even starts showing up for breakfast and dinner.

Honestly, it felt strange at first seeing him so often, but you quickly got used to it. And it’s nice to be able to talk with someone else besides Diablo.

“Diablo, where is Malleus?” you ask, setting down your pen. Stretching, your body feels stiff from sitting so long.

“He’s on the training grounds.” Taking the proposal in hand, you leave your office. “Master Lilia has returned with knights Silver and Sebek.”

You pause in your walk. Brief, blurry images of these three people emerge from the queen’s memories. It seems that she didn’t have many memories of these three. “Returned from?”

“They went on a mission in regards to the Queendom of Roses,” Diablo explains. “Since a possible war with them has been called off, there is no need for master Lilia to continue. I’m sure Sebek is thrilled to be back at his highness’s side.” Diablo chuckles while shaking his head.

Continuing your walk to the training grounds, you wonder what they’re like. Since the queen didn’t have any interactions with them, you’re going to meet them for the first time. From the brief information she had, the two knights are meant to protect Malleus. Master Lilia was Malleus’s caretaker from when he was a baby.

As you come to the outdoor training grounds, you can hear the murmur of voices. Malleus stands with the three Diablo mentioned. They seem to be having a good time as he even cracks a smile. At least the queen’s magic is weakening.

Sensing your presence, Malleus turns to you. His eyes immediately fall on the paper in your hands. “Have you finished the proposal?”

“Yup. I wanted you to check it.” Holding out the paper, he starts reading. You notice the other three are staring at you. “Hello…”

Silver and Sebek bow. “Your highness,” they say in unison.

Lilia’s gaze darts between you and Malleus. He smiles slyly. “It’s nice to see you two talking and getting along,” he says aloud.

“Hmm…” Malleus makes a noncommittal noise as he finishes reading the proposal. “It’s not bad. There are a few things I believe you can change, but it’s a good proposal overall. I’ll leave the edits in your office tomorrow.”

If there weren’t people around, you would've patted yourself on the back. “Thank you, Malleus!”

“Hrrk?!” Sebek makes a noise in the back of his throat.

You glance over at him as he tries to compose himself. Continuing, “I also think that once we send the proposal, we should do it the way the Queendom of Roses would.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Malleus nods thoughtfully. “What are their customs?”

Ticking off the rules on your fingers, “We need to send two messengers on white horses. Each messenger should wear a red rose on their lapel. It must be before or after noon time as the queen typically takes tea then.” Your nose scrunches as you recall all the rules you read.

“They’re rules are unusual,” Malleus murmurs. “But I’m sure this will help better our stance with the queen of hearts.”

“That’s what I hope. Anyways, I’m going to finish up some of the other paperwork. I’ll see you for dinner?” You usually don’t ask since he’s been joining you for breakfast and dinner as of late. However, you want him to catch up with everyone.

Smiling, he nods. “Of course.”

Giving him a wave, you and Diablo return to your study. You can feel the other three staring the entire time.

---

Once you disappear Lilia leans in close to Malleus. “It seems that the queen has finally come out of her frozen shell, hmm?”

“Sh-she called you by your first name…” Sebek mutters, bewildered.

“We’ve been getting to know each other,” the dragon king replies. He has a faint smile on his face as he stares off into the direction you went.

The three exchange looks. Silver clears his throat. “I’m glad to see you two are getting closer. And you seem more yourself, your majesty.”

Hand under his chin, he hums thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I do feel…lighter.”

“Hoho, to be young~!” Lilia teases.

Shaking his head, Malleus's smile falls into a serious expression. “Did you find anything?” Down to business. His eye flash green as he casts a silencing spell around them.

All three straighten up. Lilia speaks first. “Unfortunately, we do have some bad news about the queen’s parents. It’s too bad seeing as you two are getting along…” He sighs.

“Go on.” Malleus is stone faced as Lilia tells him the news.

#twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x f!reader #malleus x f!reader #reader insert #scenario

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jeannineee · 9 months

Text

Umbra et Ventus (Ⅲ)

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part 1 here. part 2 found here.

warnings: canon-typical themes, allusions to PTSD. Descriptions of blood, gore, violence. Reader was enslaved on the Continent, so there’ll be some description of that in this part.

requests are open, for headcanons or short blurbs/drabbles! Love you guys!!

“Focus, girl,” Amren hissed at you for the hundredth time. Part of you wished that your so-called power actually existed, if only to throw her ass over the nearest cliff.

The two of you had been at it all morning. You sat on the hardwood floor in the living room of the House of Wind. Amren stood across from you, repeating the same words: Focus. Breathe. Feel.

So you tried. You remained on your knees, palms upturned, eyes shut. You centered yourself, breathing slowly, steadily. Each attempt led you to a desolate part of yourself. A hollow space in your soul, long since forgotten.

And in that space, there was a kernel. A small, silvery flicker. But each time you reached for it, it strayed further. Just out of reach.

Scowling, you stood, bracing your hands on your hips. “What is the point of this?” You said to Amren. “You’ve known me for all of three days. You are second in command of the Night Court, and I am a nobody refugee. What is the point? Why me?”

Amren stared at first. Her gaze was almost terrifying, but you did not balk. Did not waver as you asked again, “What is the point?”

“The point, girl,” Amren began as she stood in front of you. “Is that your power is unlike anything I have sensed in my fifteen thousand years.”

You had to fight the urge to let your jaw drop to the ground. Fifteen thousand years.

Amren continued, “And I do not think it is mere coincidence that emissaries from the Continent show up, requesting the refugees be returned to them only days after you show up in Velaris.”

‘Them.’ Their masters. Their owners.

Your heart fell to your stomach. How had you not heard about this? You’d been in Velaris for almost two months, and yet—Madja. She’d kept this from you. To keep you from breaking any further.

You had the vague sense that Amren was speaking to you. But you couldn’t hear. Couldn’t think beyond the roaring in your head. Hundreds of half-fae and humans alike have sought refuge in Velaris. They fought and bled for their freedom, only for it to potentially be stripped away again?

Images flooded your mind, from your time spent in the slave camps of Vallahan. Half-fae and humans of all ages, broken and abused. The Overseers; faces full of wrath and disgust and hatred.

Your ears rang with the cracking of whips. The screams of the dying. Your own screams, as you were chained to that post and beaten and—

“Y/n.”

You remembered the smell of blood. The smell of rotting flesh, as your dead kin laid in the sun for days before being put into unmarked graves.

“Y/n.”

You snapped back into reality, knees almost buckling at what you saw. The room looked as though someone had ripped it apart. Now-tattered books, strewn across the floor, wooden shelves and tables in splinters.

Amren, who you were almost certain never showed any surprise, was wide-eyed as she observed you. Upon meeting your eyes, she said, “That’s one way to do it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Wind and lightning. Though you saw none of it, felt none of it. But Amren swore it surrounded you in those moments, as your mind took you to places you never wanted to be again.

Sometimes, emotion can drive one’s power, Amren had said. We’ll learn to draw it out without it.

When you demanded an explanation as to what Rhysand and his Inner Circle planned on doing in regards to the emissaries from the Continent, Amren merely invited you to the next meeting. Which wouldn’t be for another week.

In the hours after you left, you’d tried over and over again to summon your power. You failed, miserably. So, you spent the rest of your evening at the Infirmary.

At least you were good for something.

Madja left you to your own devices, allowing you to tend to several patients—faerie and human alike; most of whom needed minor fixes. Fevers, muscle pain, nausea.

You worked and worked until the events of that morning were an afterthought. Until all you had to worry about was tending to each patient, and their needs.

Just one more patient for the evening, and then you could—

“Hello,” the spymaster of the Night Court greeted with a smile. He looked tired, more than what he usually seemed. Exhausted, even.

“Azriel. Are you alright?” You internally scolded yourself as the question came out. Obviously he wasn’t, if he was at the Infirmary.

Azriel smiled again. “I’m fine. I’ve been having headaches.”

“For how long?”

Azriel chuckled. “Centuries.”

“And you’re just now choosing to be treated for them?”

“They were manageable, before.”

“How long ago did they begin worsening?”

“About two months ago.” Azriel explained everything to you: the frequency of the headaches, the location, pain levels.

You left for a few minutes, returning a small tin. Azriel quirked a brow as you handed it to him, before opening it, revealing the salve inside. “This is supposed to help?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yes. It has peppermint and rosemary; both are effective at alleviating headaches.”

Azriel still didn’t seem convinced.

“Here, let me…” You dipped two fingers into the salve. Without thinking, you began gently rubbing it into his temples.

Azriel stiffened at first, but relaxed within seconds. A small sound came out of him, almost a purr. You smiled to yourself, continuing to apply the salve. “You’ll do this every morning and night, just for a few minutes.”

Azriel nodded in response. He looked almost offended as you pulled away, as though he wanted you to keep going. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You might also consider getting enough sleep. Lack of rest will absolutely trigger headaches,” you said.

A smirk from Azriel. “How would you know if I get enough sleep?”

You smiled. “Takes one to know one.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes raked over your form. Something buried within you sang at the gesture, but you shoved it away, clearing your throat. “Is there anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, before standing.

Mother above, did he tower over you. He stood less than a foot away, now. Close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

“Amren said you put on quite the show this morning,” Azriel said, his voice a bit lower than before.

“Did she?”

Azriel hummed. “The living room was no longer livable, when I arrived home this afternoon.”

Your face flushed. Azriel’s amusement increased at the sight of it. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle. “Amren and Cassian have torn apart entire buildings over mild disputes. You’ll fit right in.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but stopped short as one of Azriel’s shadows snaked up your arm, twirling around your hair; a gentle caress.

It was Azriel’s turn to flush. “I’m sorry.”

You grinned. “No need to apologize. I think they like me.”

Azriel studied you, the smallest smile gracing his lips. “Most people fear them.”

“There’s nothing to fear about them,” you replied simply. “They’re apart of you.”

“They are. Always will be.” The shadows slithered away, returning behind his shoulders. Azriel bowed his head in thanks. “Thank you for the salve.”

Azriel left before you could say anything more.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel #shadowsinger #spymaster #acosf #acowar #acofas

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thishazbinamistake · 4 months

Note

Howdy!

I am here to talk about Viv's horrible character designs.

From an animator perspective, they suck.

Here's why

1. The characters have way too much detail

For animation, more lines equal more work. You're going to be drawing them over and over, and it just creates more stress and work for the animators.

For example, I took one of the most egregious designs in HB (Beelzebub) and simplified it to be animation friendly.

(Can't send it here but I'll probably make a post about it or something.)

2. There's too much of 1 color

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH RED??

Especially since they're in a primarily red background, they don't stand out AT ALL.

Like how am I supposed to see them if they blend in to the background??

3. I have no idea what half of them are supposed to be

Charlie is based off a doll?

Alastor is based off of a deer?

Katie Killjoy is based off of a praying mantis?

Angel Dust is based off of a spider?

Beelzebub is supposed to be well... Beelzebub?

When designing characters, they need to be clear on what they're supposed to be! And no, explaining it on Twitter does not count.

4. The animation reference sheets are garbage

No wonder there's so much animation errors. There's no facial expression sheets, lip sync guide, nothing. It's just a 4 angle turnaround sheet where the character is in complex poses all the time.

If you Google Lackadaisy's animation reference sheets and then look at HB's, it's like night and day.

I'm more than willing to send some examples (along with the edit I did) if you want

So yeah, what are your thoughts?

These are all great points! I think you summed up the main problems very well, but I'll elaborate on each of them. I'm no expert at character design or animation by any means, but I'll do my best to explain my points!

First of all, like you said, the character designs are way too complicated. Anyone who knows even the slightest amount about animation knows you want to simplify and streamline your designs as much as possible to make it easier on the animators. Vivzie is way too obsessed with her Deviantart OC lookin'-ass character designs to actually do this, even though it would seriously help to make the animation process way faster and easier. Beelzebub is seriously the best (or worst?) example of this.

I feel so bad for the poor souls who had to animate this. There are just way too many moving parts here, from her multiple arms, her wings, her markings, to her freaking lava lamp hair and tail?? It's just awful. And so many of Viv's designs suffer this problem, I could go on and on.

Like, I think it actually is a nice looking design, as a still image. Maybe not for the demon Beelzebub, but as a general furry OC, I think she's cute. But that's beside the point. I would love to see your redesign of her!

Next, the RED. So, most of the characters we see in Helluva Boss are red-skinned imps, which has been a common depiction of demons for centuries. One big problem I have is that there's little contrast in these designs. Let's look at our three main imps.

Aside from some white and yellow highlights, they're all mostly red and black. Their color palettes aren't distinct in the slightest! And, I mean, come on. Red accessories against what's almost the exact same shade of red skin? Really? It just doesn't look good. A little contrast here and there goes a long way, like... maybe make Moxxie's bowtie blue? Or Blitz's pendant green? I don't know, anything to help each character stand out, and help give them more visual intrigue.

It doesn't help that most of the backgrounds are primarily shades of red, too. Here's a few screenshots I found that really show this problem.

Look at all that fucking red. Like you said, there's such little color variation that the characters blend into the background. Now, to be fair, I did specifically choose these screenshots because I think they really highlight the problem, but this really is what so much of the show looks like. Granted, we do have a bit more variety in the different rings of Hell, each with their own main color, but this is still too much red, considering how much the color comprises the main characters' designs.

Next, like you said, Vivzie is really bad at making characters actually look like the things they're supposed to look like. Let's take Alastor as an example!

Oh boy! More red and black. So, Alastor here is supposed to be a deer. What's the first physical characteristic that comes to mind when you think of a deer?

Yeah, those big, impressive antlers! So... where are his? Oh, they're those tiny little forks on his head that are almost entirely obscured by his stupid emo hair. Like, come on! Giving him bigger antlers would have made him look so much cooler and more intimidating, and it would have been a great focal point for his design! It's such a missed opportunity. (I know he has bigger antlers in his scarier "demon" form, but you still could have made these a little more impressive.) And don't even get me started on those ears... they look more like fox ears or something. Like you said, a good design shouldn't need to be explained through supplementary material. We should be able to tell what a character is supposed to be just from looking at them!

Another great example is Angel Dust, who, despite being a spider, lacks so many distinct features we associate with spiders! He only has six legs instead of eight, he doesn't have pedipalps or chelicerae, and he also lacks that big old spider booty, which I think is such a missed opportunity, considering he is supposed to be in the sex industry. He isn't even remotely shaped like a spider, he looks more like a fuzzy stick bug or something.

Part of me feels like Viv is too afraid to make her characters look unique, so she just goes with the same, skinny humanoid design for just about everything. It's such a shame, because I really do think she is a talented artist who can make some really interesting designs. But then again, she also gave us Beelzebub, so... maybe not.

As for the reference sheets, maybe I wasn't looking hard enough but I couldn't find any official ones for the main characters, so if you could send those my way I would appreciate it! Though it honestly wouldn't surprise me if they were bad. I did look up Lackadaisy's and found them pretty easily and...

This is so freaking comprehensive and detailed, it's incredible! Look at all those poses and facial expressions!

Comparing Vivzie's works to Tracy's feels kind of unfair, since Tracy has been working on Lackadaisy for 17 years, and it really shows. This is leaps and bounds above Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel in quality. Rocky's design is tight; it's detailed, but not overly complicated. There isn't an obnoxious overuse of highly saturated colors, and there's such nice contrast between his fur, his eyes, suit, and tie, making his design very nice to look at. You can also tell so much about his personality and the world he lives in just from his appearance. It's such a good design, and Rocky is just one example from Lackadaisy! All of Tracy's designs are memorable and stand out from one another, unlike so many of Vivzie's characters, whose designs honestly feel interchangable.

So much thought and care has gone into Lackadaisy, and I seriously cannot wait for the full series, as well as all the other amazing indie animated series that have been coming out recently. It's sad that Helluva Boss is seen as the pinnacle of indie animation, when there are so many other series out there that are just.. better! Lackadaisy, obviously, but we've also got Digital Circus, Murder Drones, Monkey Wrench, and so many others that deserve way more appreciation than what Helluva Boss receives. And that's just from an art direction standpoint, we aren't even talking about writing. That's a whole other can of worms.

All of that being said, it's obvious that a ton of love and hard work went into Helluva Boss, and I hold absolutely nothing against the animators and artists at Spindlehorse. These poor design choices are a hallmark of Vivzie's art style, and they're simply working with what they've got. There is such wasted potential here because it feels like Vivzie is too afraid to step outside her comfort zone and design something that isn't a brightly colored, sharp-toothed twink, or skinny anthro wolf girl.

Anyways, that about wraps up my thoughts. Thanks for the ask, this was fun to delve into! And again, I'd be very interested in seeing you post your redesigns! 👀

#hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #long post

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bongo-clash · 2 years

Text

Peacock Au Part 1

Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:

And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)

There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.

Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.

Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.

There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.

…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.

But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.

His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.

And then, the entity begins to form.

Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.

The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.

“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”

Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

“The pits. There are many pits.”

God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”

“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“…Will you fix it?”

The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.

A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”

“Uh… cheers?”

“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”

This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”

He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“I know of your Bat.”

Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”

And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.

And he owes it a favour.

Crap.