#also i wanted to draw and have a limited imagination lol

[rukafais]

i understand the struggle of "i can't draw how do i visualize this OC" and its like, okay, picrews and dollmakers have limited options (and are often limited by the artist's imagination). Heroforge perhaps not your style. You're broke as hell, so commissioning someone or finding someone who can do it on the cheap is hard. Certainly it's hard to find someone to just Do It For Free and that's a huge imposition. And learning to draw is [come back in ten to fifteen years lol]

What is also an option that I think has fallen out of fashion as programs have gotten more advanced but is still legitimate, though:

Kitbashing and editing sprites.

"but i can't draw" you don't need to. Get your hands on those game assets and edit them with your 1-px pencil or paintbuckets or whatever. Recolour them. Smash them together like dolls. You can do it in MS Paint or the program of your choice. If you want something more focused on pixel art (and still free) there's graphicsgale. Embrace the dots.

#i'm not gonna list asesprite because Do It For Free #is the main issue here #spriting and pixel editing is not for everyone but it has a VERY low entry barrier

[archangeldyke-all]

Did someone say cowboy Sevika?

Absolutely delicious, I have thoughts.

Theres the classic off limits farmer’s daughter dynamic, which is to die for every time, but I thought what about a farmer’s widow? All lonesome on her big empty property, she hires Sevika for some extra help and then the tension is off the charts!! I think it would be ideal for a long, slow burn style fic. Draw it out, make them drool over each other for a bit til they can’t take it anymore

For a blurb idea what about Cowboy Sevika teaching the reader to ride a horse? It could be cute and flirty or it could get nasty lol whatever you’re in the mood to write!

Also let’s take a moment to imagine her tying those fancy cowboy knots. Rope steady in her big rough hands. She’s stripped down to her used to be white tank top, you can see her muscles flexing while she pulls it taught. She’d be all sweaty and you innocently walk over to her, pluck her bandanna out of her pocket, and dab away the droplets on her forehead. You tuck it gently back into the front pocket of her tight, dirt stained jeans and saunter away so sweetly. She’d want to chase you down like a wild animal in heat after that

the last paragraph here made me dizzy. thank u.

ur the second person to request a 'teaching reader how to ride horseback', mars, @sexysapphicshopowner , being the first! so lets do that ;)

part 1 of cowboy sev here, part 2 here!

men and minors dni

you're now the only one in your little mis-matched family who doesn't know how to ride horseback.

sevika's been riding since before she could even properly walk. powder took to it like a fish to water. violet was a little more hesitant, but figured it out in time. and now all three of them are trying to convince you to learn.

you've never needed it. you were born and raised in this town, everything you need is within a mile's walking distance. but, they're insistent.

you've ridden horseback before, clinging onto sevika as she controls shimmer's pace, but you've never been in control of the reigns. it seems scary, being that high up, going that fast, the only person keeping you from going flying off shimmer's back being yourself.

and now, sevika's got you in the stable, grinning at you as you hesitantly look at shimmer. powder and violet have been asleep for hours, exhausted after working in the garden all day with you.

"can we just go for a quick trot with you in front?" you ask, pouting at your wife. she laughs. "just so i can see you do it!" you insist. she rolls her eyes, then lifts you up by the waist, helping you straddle shimmer's back, before hopping up in front of you.

you press your grin against her shoulder, quickly wrapping your arms around her waist. she laughs in front of you, giving shimmer a little tap with her spur, the mare slowly trotting out onto the main street.

"you're such a baby." sevika teases. you pinch her side, watching her wiggle.

"i'm just lucky. got a wife who knows how to ride so i never had to learn." you say. you can't see her smile, but you can tell she's grinning in front of you.

sevika slowly walks shimmer down the main street, picking her pace up to a cantor when you get out of town.

the three of you ride out into the desert, and you tilt your head up to soak in the sight of the stars above, sighing as the wind whips past you.

"you're not even lookin' at what i'm doing." sevika laughs ahead of you. you giggle.

"stars 're so pretty sev. look." you say.

sevika brings shimmer to a stop, tilting her head up to look at the stars with you.

"hm." she says. you squeeze her waist.

"what?" you ask, enjoying the heat of her back pressed against your front.

"they're pretty, i guess. nowhere near 's pretty as you." she says. you grin.

"sap." you say.

it's summer, but this late at night, the desert is chilly. you sneak your cold fingers up under sevika's shirt, watching her jump, then giggling when she elbows you. you don't move your hands. she doesn't ask you to.

for a few minutes, the two of you just stare at the sky, the vast expanse of stars and planets before your eyes.

it's a new moon, and without her shine, all the stars in the galaxy are visible.

shimmer shifts beneath you, and sevika laughs.

"she hates waitin' around." she says. you smile.

"just like you." you say. sevika laughs, nudging shimmer's side, letting her trot around the empty expanse of the desert.

you hook your chin over her shoulder, watching how her hands hold the reins, how she uses them to gently guide shimmer to and fro.

beneath your fingers, you can feel her belly rise and fall with each breath she takes. a smile ticks up at the corner of your mouth, and you turn your head to press a kiss to sevika's neck.

she goes stiff in your arms.

"what're you doin'?" she asks. you smile against her throat.

"'m watchin' you." you say. "learnin' how to ride."

"you don't need any help learning how to ride." sevika says. you laugh at her horrible joke, pinching her waist. she chuckles.

"speaking of..." you start. sevika snorts in front of you.

"yeah, darlin'?" she asks. you nip her neck.

as much as you both love powder and violet, their abrupt entrance into your lives has left your sex life in shambles.

it's not like you're not having sex. it's just that you can't have it like you used to.

when you used to spend any spare moment the two of you had sprawled out in bed, naked and sweaty and kissing, now you gotta keep your romps quick, lest the girls get in trouble while they're unsupervised.

plus, with the nightmares that violet's been having, paired with powder's separation anxiety toward her sister, a majority of your nights as of late have ended with the four of you piled up in your-- used to be-- marital bed.

you've just had to get a little more creative. you and sevika have been doing a whole lot of 'chores' in the stable, trying to avoid shimmer's judgmental eyes as you fuck against the haybales.

and now... out in the desert, with sevika pressed against you and nobody out here beside you, your wife, and the stars... now seems like the perfect opportunity to get creative.

slowly, you inch your hands down sevika's abdomen, taking a moment to admire the firmness of her rippling abs shifting with each step shimmer takes. she chuckles huskily in front of you, and you begin sucking a hickey against her neck.

"insatiable." she says. "'y had me this morning while we were 'pinning the laundry to dry'." you hum.

"want me to stop?" you ask. she laughs out loud, a bright, echoing thing.

"hell no." she says. you grin, and continue trailing your fingers lower, fiddling with the button of her chaps.

shimmer continues her aimless trot, slowing occasionally to munch at spare patches of grass, knowing that you and sevika are in no rush to get anywhere.

when you slide your hand down her pants, she sighs, leaning some of her weight back against your chest. you pepper kisses against the side of her face, trying to give every branch of the scar on her left cheek a solid smooch. she giggles against you, then moans when your fingers start working against her clit.

"you're wet already." you mumble against her. she hums.

"knew this is what you were workin' up to the second you asked me to ride in front first." she says. you chuckle. "i'm never gonna get you to learn to ride, am i?" she asks.

"mmm, maybe someday. don't need it now, though, do i?" you ask. "not when i've got you." you say.

sevika sighs and turns her head to capture your lips in a kiss against hers. you hum against her mouth, nipping her lip as you start rubbing her clit in slow circles.

"fuck." she sighs, turning her neck back around to watch where shimmer's going. "i love you." she whispers. you smile and nip her neck.

"love you too." you say, trailing your free hand up her chest to fondle her breasts.

sevika's tits are sensitive, you've made her cum from your hands and mouth on her chest countless times before. she shudders against you, her back arching as she shoves her chest further against your hand. you snicker, and start to gently fiddle with her nipple.

"fuck-- your hands." she says.

"'s kinda what you're doin' now, baby." you tease. sevika snorts, but it quickly dissolves into a moan as you increase your pace on her clit, sinking your teeth into her neck as you pinch her nipple.

"y-you're horrible." she chastises you for the joke. you giggle against her.

"you close?" you ask. she laughs.

"yeah." she says.

shimmer lets out a sneeze-- clearly disapproving of the activities happening on her back, and you giggle.

"she's sick of us." you say. sevika sighs.

"she, fuck, she's so judgmental." sevika whimpers.

"should be gettin' back soon. 's almost midnight-- violet's gonna have her nightmare soon, we should be there when the girls come lookin' for us.' you say.

"fuck, can we please not talk about the kids while you got your hand on my cunt?" she asks. despite her complaints, sevika tugs on shimmer's reins, turning her back toward town as you work your hand against her.

"y' better hurry up. we're only a few minutes away from town." you say. sevika groans. "need some encouragement?" you whisper against her ear. she shivers, and you smirk.

"shut up." she whispers. you grin, knowing that sevika's 'shut up's tend to mean 'keep talking.' especially in the bedroom.

"you sure? y' don't want me to tell me how much i love you? how perfect you are for me?" you tease. sevika's thigh shakes against shimmer.

"fuck."

"my cowboy. my wife. so strong and handsome, givin' up her life of crime just for me. gotta compensate that kinda sacrifice properly, don't i?" you ask. sevika whines. "fuck, 'n you look so good when you're on shimmer's back. why would i wanna learn to ride when i could just watch you instead, hm?" you ask.

sevika lets go of the reins with one hand to grip onto your arm. you kiss her cheek.

"cum for me, pretty thing. if you're lucky, maybe i'll wake you up before sunrise to help me 'feed the chickens.'" you say. sevika whines, remembering the last time the two of you used that excuse-- you ended up with sevika's tongue inside of you, your back against the coop as she knelt on the shitty ground, clawing at your thighs. "c'mon sev-- give it to me, baby."

sevika cums with a resounding "shit!" shimmer spooks a bit, jumping and bucking beneath you, and you both squeal as you hold on to the mare while she calms down.

sevika's cunt is still fluttering beneath your palm as she pulls on shimmer's reins to bring her back to a walk as the shimmering lights of town become visible ahead. you hum against her, ducking your fingers down to gather her cum from her dripping hole, before pulling your hand out of her pants and popping your fingers in your mouth.

you moan. sevika moans. shimmer grunts, a disgusted little noise.

"fuck." sevika sighs out, her back slumping against your chest. you giggle, removing your hand from her tits to button up her pants, before giving her cunt a little pat over her chaps. she jolts. "hey!" she says, giggling. you grin against her neck, pressing another kiss to the skin beneath your lips.

just before shimmer starts down main street, sevika pulls her to a stop with a "woah, girl."

you're about to ask her what she's doing-- the tavern about two hundred feet away, but sevika answers your question before you can get it out when she turns her head, grabbing your chin with her fingers and smashing your lips together.

you sigh against her mouth, nipping on her tongue when she swipes it against your lips, giggling at the little involuntary twitch of her thigh.

she pulls away with a sigh, looking into your eyes dreamily.

"i love you more than there are stars in the sky, darlin'." she says. you smile against her lips.

"i love you too, my sweet wife." you say, reaching forward to snap shimmer's reins, letting the horse lead the two of you back home. sevika raises an eyebrow at you and you smile. "see, i did learn a little somethin'." you say.

sevika laughs.

"guess i gotta take you out for ridin' lessons every night, huh?" she asks. you grin.

"i wouldn't mind that at all."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#i know nothing about horses so have some smut hahaha #sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

[genericpuff]

welp, this kinda sucks

I'm currently at odds with the PC that I got a couple months ago, it's started freezing and soft-resetting randomly for seemingly no reason. It would usually be after hours of use that I could chalk up to the memory overloading, but now it's happening as soon as I boot up the frigging thing. And just to make it clear how much I've done on my own to diagnose the problem, our attempts to fix it have included the following:

Limiting startup applications

Running virus / malware scans

Swapping out display monitors

Updating the GPU drivers

Setting a lower overclock profile in the BIOS settings

Swapping out power cables and outlets to check for power surges

So far none of these things have worked and if anything, the issue has just gotten worse in the last two days. Like, it can barely make it to the startup screen sometimes, despite the memory and CPU usage being >20%, there is zero reason it would be the PC overclocking itself just from startup.

(and no, it doesn't even compel me, i'm just annoyed to shit LOL)

So I dropped it off with the guy who built it (he runs an electronics / pawn shop downtown that's very reputable and well-known so it's not like I don't trust him or anything, he's been building PC's for people in the area for years) and it's now in his care for the next day or two while he tries to isolate the problem. Right now the only thing I can imagine being the problem is the power supply or my display monitor, which is my old Huion Kamvas 22 Plus that still works as a monitor, just not a drawing tablet - but if something's still fucking around in the tablet, it could be causing problems through the PC, maybe.

When I dropped it off with the guy, he went and set it up in his office and came out and told me that so far it seemed to be running just fine, when he asked me if I was doing anything specific I told him it was crashing even after startup so I gave him permission to overclock the shit out of it, run 53879205893 browser tabs, run my games, software, anything he needed to do to push it to its limits and see if he could replicate the problem.

I am terrified if it has to do with the motherboard, because that will be an expensive replacement that will also potentially lead to losing files / installations / etc. depending on how big an issue it is. It could also potentially be Windows 11 having a hissy fit especially seeing as how it's freezing up on startup, but doesn't freeze on the BIOS screen when it loads up in safe-mode after hard resets, so something is clearly happening between the hard boot-up and the startup of Windows 11 itself.

Thankfully I do have Google Drive sync support and plenty of external HDD's that I can back my stuff up to, but with the freezing and restarting getting as bad as it's been, I haven't been able to back anything up, and I don't want to risk doing it manually if it'll just freeze and potentially corrupt my files in the process. So I told the guy to call me if he needed to mess with anything concerning the system storage so that, if he could at least keep it running stable in the shop, then I could swing by and get everything I needed synced up safely before he messes around with anything.

It could also very well have something to do with the power supply itself, the house that I occupy the main floor of isn't exactly built with electric optimization in mind, we've had fuses blow on us before just from running the hair dryer at the same time as the TV, so if it's something to do with the PC drawing too much power for the electrical system here to keep up with, either (hopefully) the guy will be able to instruct me on how to lower and manage that power intake through the PC's BIOS (I believe you can but I'm still a massive noob on custom builds and I don't want to go tinkering with it myself) or, idk, maybe I'll have to get my landlord to drop by again with his electrician and check out the fuses to make sure they're all operating properly. I'm not an electrician either, so fuck if I know at this point what could be going on. I feel like it can't be the house itself because everything else is running fine and it's just become a recent issue, but our city's power grid is also not exactly praised for being good at its job, especially not in the winter.

So yeah, I'm a little - well, a lot - stressed right now, but all I can really do at this point is wait. Fortunately, I have my iPad and also remembered that I still have my old PC, so I've hooked it up, at best if the problem repeats itself on this PC then I'll know it has to do with the display monitor, at worst I'll just be stuck working with my clunky old hardware for a couple days, which is annoying, but it'll get the job done. Fortunately I had the newest episode of Rekindled uploaded to the cloud in Clip Studio so I can still download it and work on it, which was my biggest worry when everything started to go belly-up (next to just, like, having a working PC).

Sooooo yeah. It's annoying, but I'm hoping for the best. Send good vibes y'all, I really could use it rn, between this and slow traffic at work and some other personal shit that's been going on, it's been a shitty few days (╥﹏╥)

And yeah, I'll keep y'all updated on if it affects this week's update, it really shouldn't honestly as most of the work left is doable from both my iPad and PC, but obviously at this point anything can happen so if anything has to be postponed or changed to accommodate the current situation, I'll update y'all as soon as I can! Thanks everyone, y'all are the best, wish me luck <3

#self post #computer problems

[pogostikk]

okay i LOVE your art and what i presume is your au, but i have no clue what’s going on in any of your comics or drawings.

is there any chance that you could give a lore dump or story dump of some kind?

Eeeeeeee thank you!! I honestly don’t think anybody has a clue what is going on lol

I’d be happy to info dump though!

So my AU -which I call the separation AU- surrounds the idea of pink and human Steven being two different people and Rose’s two children, and came into the world separately. Pink Steven, who is mistaken for Pink Diamond after she gave up her form for him, later takes the name Star, is fully grown at birth and resembles a diamond rather than a Quartz- while Steven is just an infant.

The problem is, Rose had been pregnant and discovered by the diamonds before Steven was born, she was too weak from shapeshifting entire reproductive organs and creating an entirely new life for nine months to fight back, and probably wouldn’t have regardless due to the chance of her child being injured.

So on Homeworld, to protect her child she revealed her old identity (you can find another post answering an ask about this).

Because of many factors, Steven and his gem half were born split apart.

Star had limited knowledge while also way too much, he knew he wasn’t supposed to exist and was also supposed to be apart of Steven, and whether he could fuse with Steven or not, it was simply impossible because of the situation.

So to protect and take care of Steven, he took his mother’s place as a diamond, conforming to White’s expectations.

While he could technically bring Steven to Earth as Rose would have wanted him to, the diamonds would have chased him there and that would have risked the planet. He also couldn’t leave Steven in the zoo or drop him off on Earth because while Steven is viable without a gem, he’s basically a plant relying on Star for energy like a sun, if he’s far from Star’s presence for too long, he’ll wither and die. So abandoning Steven was out of the question.

Fifteen years later, Connie finds herself as a Crystal Gem. The three gems on earth had continued to try and protect the earth for Rose, and Greg had fallen into a depressive state.

The last Crystal Gems never went into detail about Rose. They never told her exactly what happened to the leader of the Crystal Gems and Greg no longer interacted with them.

Connie took Steven’s place in a way, she was the one who befriended and freed Lapis Lazuli, for example. But anyways when Peridot and Jasper came to stop the Crystal Gems from interfering with Peridot’s work, the remaining Crystal Gems had been captured along with Connie. (I’m workshopping the storyline so I’m not sure abt this yet)

While the gems were poofed and bubbled away, Star decided he wouldn’t put Connie in the zoo or return her to Earth.

Steven, being isolated from other human beings and viewed as a pet to a majority of Homeworld, had left him lonely, and Star realized this. So he took Connie in (is what he calls it).

Everything else after that is what I like to play around with. I imagine eventually Connie would convince Steven to help her escape and rescue her friends, but when the three gems see Steven, they also see Rose in him, and are determined to “rescue” him.

Anyways I’m tired of writing, I realize this information comes with a few unanswered questions, so if you have any feel free to ask!

#steven universe #su au #human steven #pink steven #I don’t like to write #I’m gonna go die in a hole now #the crystal gems #asks #connie maheswaran

[yaesnovels]

my toxic trait is walking past corporate buildings and thinking how much of a good fuck i would get from marius or artem 😁 NAH BUT LIKE oh my fucking god imagine all the windows are all fogged up and you’re pressed up against it all out of breathe AND THEN JUST WAIT either celestine or vincent walksup to the door and goes “there’s a client here for you” and they continue railing the fuck out of you and they breathlessly go “i’ll be ready in a bit, just finishing something” PHEW like wow

cw; mentions of semi-public sexual encounters

commissions are open! check this out!

okay i don‘t know about artem in this case (simply because i see my second husband as a more sweet and romantic type, who’s just the more traditional lover-ish thing) but

i always felt like marius is a kinky bastard (affectionately) so he would simply fuck you against a window because he wants to experiment on what the limits are that he can push before getting caught.

then again, he is his own boss, so who gives a shit anyway? vincent would probably be so used to this that he would understand not what, but who marius is „finishing up“ (lol) and would ask the client for some patience and marius would come see them in a few minutes.

poor vincent, already having seen marius fuck you so good on the table, against the window, you riding him on his chair, on the couch in the big office, everything. now he‘s just used to the fact that whenever you come visit marius at work to „bring him some lunch“, he knew not to interrupt you two or he would probably have to actually resort to bleach his eyes (/hj)

oh and also, imagine he has you pinned against the window and he just draws a tiny heart on the fogging that appeared with your heavy breathing against the glass — just to make you giggle and play around.

as for artem, since i feel like he is more the traditional lover, he would at least wait until he thinks everyone is out of the office before he goes ahead and gets down to his favorite type of business (like for lunch or for closing times)

imagine he thinks everyone went out for lunch, having heard them talk about how theyre going to try out this new place around the corner and even celestine saying she‘ll stop by there; so artem just kisses you, acting totally out of character for him as he was absolutely needy for you.

little did he know that celestine actually had one of the important clients come in randomly, leading them to artem because he is the best (and in that moment, the only other lawyer at the firm as everyone else went for lunch break).

he halts his movements, before he just keeps on going, holding his hand against your mouth to muffle your noises before he says he‘ll be out in the meeting room in a few moments, that he has something to finish up real quick.

little did celestine know that he was not talking about paperwork.

i just wrote this on my phone without really thinking about it, just what came to my mind lol; this is just word vomit.

my hand hurts now from typing so much at once send help.

anyways, i‘m headin off to sleep, gn people <3

#. flowers for : marius von hagen ! #. flowers for : artem wing ! #tears of themis #tears of themis fanfiction #tears of themis smut #tears of themis artem #artem wing #artem smut #artem fanfiction #tears of themis marius #marius von hagen #marius von hagen smut #marius smut #marius fanfiction

[loremaster]

BOBA AU - CHAPTER 1 EXTRAS

I had actually drawn a few more things than could fit within the 30-image-per-post limit. Here are the ones that didn't make the cut, with commentary!

(tw: mild animal abuse, n*zi mention, suggestive themes)

Zilch's animal companions. I named Carmina Burana and Tortellini, Gucci and Bosch were named by my friends - though Bosch was supposed to be called Hieronymus, it just didn't fit on the nametag lol

I wanted to illustrate some examples of Zilch casually mistreating/neglecting the animals but this was as far as I got. I don't think he would be a full on animal abuser, just... the type of person who likes having a bunch of pets to show off but doesn't really think about properly caring for them. He likes the aesthetics of animals much more than the logistics.

This was gonna be the chapter cover and I forgot. Oops.

This was just practice drawing the church characters from their sprites.

Zilch: I must say, it's an unexpected pleasure to run into another kindred spirit around here. I'm Zilch~

This scene was actually cut deliberately. I drew it before I decided exactly what the Nun's issue with Zilch would be and then once I did, I felt like it didn't fit anymore. Zilch is still excited to see someone else with ears and tail like him, but in the final version, he's a lot more derisive about it.

I imagine the Nun is, like, an actual animal-human hybrid whereas Zilch is a furry with a wallet that can afford bioengineered bodymods. (One day, my friends... one day...)

Zilch being flippant and Halara being dismissive/tsundere. Couldn't really find a place to put it but I still like the drawing - even if I did accidentally give Zilch human ears.

By the way, you might notice Zilch hasn't been wearing his cap. There are two reasons. One is to show off that his ears aren't actually connected to it. If I had the time to go back and redraw the prologue with him wearing it - so Halara's "holy fuck" reaction makes more sense here - I would. (Not really worth trying to fix though, not until the rest of the story is done.)

But the other reason is that upon looking closer at Zilch's original design, I thought it was a little too evocative of Nazi imagery and wasn't really comfortable with it. It's not really the same style of hat, sure, but combined with the swastikas in his eyes??? yeah no way is that not intentional. (I redesigned his eye symbols to be catlike slit pupils instead.)

I get he (or, the hitman, I guess) is supposed to be a villain, and a minor one, in the original game... but here I'm gonna flesh him out a bit more. So I guess in that sense the removal of the hat symbolizes his growth as a character beyond his terrible awful fascist upbringing lol (more on that in the Gumshoe Gabs soon)

If I were making this an actual game it would be fun to have Yuma get a fun little added gameplay element of using Zilch's Forte like he does with Halara's. He gets some little animal friends!!!

I imagined Zilch would ask to be carried, but Halara won't do it without getting paid an exorbitant amount. And then Zilch forks over the cash on the spot. Yuma screams internally. If he had that the whole time why were they even trying to negotiate over the coat???!? Why does he still have his own debt to pay if Zilch could just cover the whole thing up front????

Halara has to pretend not to be enthusiastic about this opportunity.

Shinigami is... there, I guess.

Martina my wife driving around her little parasite of a boyfriend. Ms Electro please call me

Was originally gonna have Seth say that out loud but then I remembered he doesn't want to lose his job. (It's okay, he loses it anyway.)

(Also yes this is pre-Vivia-DLC.)

And then the mystery is solved!

Zilch feels indebted to Halara for saving him from the Nail Man, and wants to follow their example, turn it around, treat his animals better... his act of goodwill here is extremely performative, though. But, hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere!

Ultimately I cut this scene after coming up with the cat bed idea. (Was very tempted to have Halara cruelly taking the coat from the boy, but just decided to skip it instead.)

So Zilch kinda idolizes Halara now... which is fine... but then the morning after he really lets his simp flag fly.

Congrats on your furry boyfriend, I guess?????

A doodle from the margins of this comic way back when.... which finally has a place to belong! \o/

Zilch's fursona. His "zursona," if you will.

Thanks again for reading! I love everyone's comments in the tags and I'm so glad you all like my version of Zilch especially. Excited to develop him some more in future chapters >:)

#rain code #master detective archives #mdarc #boba au #abcd art #zilch alexander #yuma kokohead #halara nightmare #martina electro #zilara

[txttletale]

Sorry if this is asking for something too specific, but is there any high fantasy-themed, setting agnostic ttrpg system that I can, like, fit into the mold of a homebrew DnD campaign? I really don't want to drop this campaign that I've been running for years and have written tens of thousands of words for, but at this point the 5e system just isn't cutting it for me due to all the Problems Issues it has. Making fun encounters and areas to explore feels more and more impossible each day and it feels like I'm fighting against the current whenever I want to focus more on worldbuilding and character interaction or do something more abstract like sending PCs to the dream realm or whatever. Is there any less crunchy and combat-focused alternative thatd still let my players be clerics, barbarians, bards, etc or some equivalent?

i don't really believe in 'setting agnostic'. i think every RPG has to include some kind of implication about the setting in the basic functionalities of what verbs the characters can do. like, by including combat in an RPG, it's no longer 'setting agnostic', because some pretty big implications have been made about what kind of world these characers are going to exist in. but i digress! i know what you mean lol -- you want a high fantasy game that can be molded to the world you've already created.

fellowship is a pretty simple, classic high fantasy -- as you can imagine from the name, it draws heavily from lord of the rings. it doesn't have 'classes', though -- the playbooks are all themed around more general story rolls or fantasy peoples -- so if maintaining that is important to you it might not be for you.

venture is a game i haven't personally played or read but i've seen toted around as a pretty good rules-light game for this kind of setting and atmosphere. it's Belonging Outside Belonging, which means it's diceless and more narrative, with the mechanics hinging around a token economy (take tokens on narrative downbeats, spend them to do cool things). it does have classes.

quest is also a super-simplified take on the d&d formula which keeps d20s and class advancement while ditching more or less everything else. it's also free (at least, the digital edition), so if you're on a limited budget and don't want to put on your big skull and crossbones hat it's a pretty good pick.

whatever you end up playing, i hope you and your friends have fun :)

#ask #ttrpg

[prince-kallisto]

An official introduction to my TWST “Yuu” OC: Viktor (*´∀`)♪ He’s a 42 year old man who was accidentally hit by the black carriage instead of the “real” Yuu. Now stuck in Twisted Wonderland, he makes do by working as NRC’s janitor and general handyman. He lives in Ramshackle Dorm and is assigned as Grim’s caretaker. Ramshackle is even less of a dorm now since no one’s the prefect haha, but Grim was allowed to take some limited classes under strict supervision of the teachers. Viktor is fairly indifferent to being in a new world because working for survival remains the same- and so do the stingy employers! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

Although Viktor seems stand-offish at first, he’s a friendly person who likes listening to people and giving advice when they need it. The troubled kids at NRC reminds him a lot of himself in his youth and he helps them out a lot- which make the sudden Overblots even stranger…However, he isn’t afraid to put his foot down, which he unfortunately has to do a lot at NRC. Crowley’s threats of withholding food, money, or the dorm don’t work on him at all. Whether by eating free leftovers from the cafeteria, haggling over prices with Sam, or just sleeping in Main Street or in front of Crowley’s office…Viktor can become quite the annoying enemy when necessary haha.

Can you guess who he’s (loosely) twisted from? -v-

Cinderella! \(//∇//)\ His color palette is meant to be a mixture of Cinderella’s and Grim’s lol. For months he wasn’t based off anyone, but I recently thought of this and it clicked perfectly in my head. He works, works, and works, but has his own wishes and dreams kept deep inside his heart. That, and I think it’s funny. Surprisingly though, he gets along really well with Trein.

With this in mind, he has a blessing cast upon him- although he doesn’t know it yet. Whenever the clock strikes twelve, any magic cast on him (minus the blessing itself), no matter how powerful, will break. For example, if Riddle casted “Off with Your Head” on him, the collar would magically disappear by midnight. Malleus having the ability to stop time is scary though ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

I was racking my brain to think of how I could fit a glass slipper reference. His initial job title in his world was vaguely a handyman or tradesman, but then I thought about it some more- a glazier! A tradesman that works with installing glass like windows and mirrors. Not only did it have a slight glass reference and give him the physical work I imagined, I think the mirror connection is fun 👀 (even my OC isn’t immune to my theories 🔫)

He is very much a “homebody” type person, with his interest in flower arranging and baking (bread specifically). He also likes collecting silly and unique knickknacks- but has a growing collection of bottle caps and shiny trinkets from Crowley haha.

I think some parts of the main story would change with him as the MC since he’s street smart, extremely stubborn, and is willing to put his life on the line to protect the students. What immediately comes to mind is Book 3. Viktor vs the Leech twins would be so chaotically violent haha. Maybe I’ll make separate posts detailing how I think each book would go down with him as MC

He’s my first OC I’ve ever made for a fandom…I feel a little embarrassed but the TWST fandom makes a lot of OCs so I feel better about it -v- I have a lot more I want to say and talk about character relationships, his origin story to NRC, and how Viktor affects the main story… but I’ll be saving it for future posts and art \(//∇//)\ I hope the more I draw him, the more I can improve!

#poor guy got animefied and disneyfied. tragic #I am cringe but I am free #twst oc #oc #my oc #twst #my art #twisted wonderland oc #KallistoPost

[daily-hanamura]

soejima describing yosuke as 'having a limited imagination' took me out too lmao, i like to think thats the description of yosuke being introduced. after his shadow/by his interactions with the investigation team he starts to think more outside the box. 'limited imagination' but hes soujis voice of reason... 'limited imagination' but he can keep up with naotos theories... 'limited imagination' but hes good at artistic endeavors like guitar, getting everyone to agree with him for the group cafe, dancing, etc. really the only thing he doesnt do is draw lol

OH OKAY I HEAR YOU I SEE YOUR VISION NOW THATS TRULY AN ENLIGHTENED TAKE!!

I getchu tho it had me like huh have I been delusional the whole time because I swear yosuke really was living up to his role as the "ideas guy" in the IT but also the empathy guy that always tries to put himself in the shoes of others and see their perspective, the guy that taps his foot along to his music in the TV world while breezily (lol) handling any fights like soejima pls you have created a boy whose mind runs so quickly and freely that I'm just sitting here sobbing

I suppose it also kind of checks out with Yosuke's self perception as not being an imaginative person when he said he wasn't good at arts/humanities subjects but did well in STEM subjects? But his dancing?? And his music?? His interest in fashion?? :') I do love the idea of him branching out more after the IT though, like just being exposed to more perspectives beyond his own.

Plus, when he says at the end of p4au that he just wants to see more of the world and experience new things? Perfect actually!!

#asks #chrispypapas #i am recovering from the shock of that article slowly but surely

[violant-apologia]

i looove thinking about the neon future, so here's a mechanic concept for Fallen Berlin!

The Network Deck

A second deck! While your main deck is the same as in FL and represents things you're physically interacting with/present for, in FB you would be able to draw cards from a secondary deck that represents things happening on the Network. You would still have one hand, just two ways of drawing cards (and also the added option to draw one at a time, if you want). Instead of getting one opportunity card every ten minutes, you get one of each every twenty (or maybe fifteen?)

(a silly mockup:)

Your Network deck (or netdeck for short) is the same in all areas, compared to the changing nature of the main deck (which would be emphasized more to draw a comparison). It's also significantly more customisable/optimisable: you can control what apps you have, which is responsible for almost all of the cards in your netdeck. Similar to lab workers, your deck will start getting clogged up with bad cards if you don't have enough apps: things like lack of stuff do do with your phone:

You find yourself on autopilot, stuck in a loop of closing an app and then immediately reopening it. Nightmares is increasing...

Imagine apps like Squeaker (spices' personal twitter clone, arguments and drama galore), the Library (pages' wikipedia-alike, where a war for the city's knowledge is waged), smaller message boards (sold by mr bricks), geocache-esque stuff in a maps app, experimental apps which interact with parabola, unofficial "dark web" crime-related app, the like. (maybe even phone games lol)

Restricted card areas, like how pickpocketing and parties are now, would probably have to limit your phone use for practicality reasons – though maybe they could build what apps you have into some cards too.

if you have any cool neon future app ideas, shoot them my way and i might mock some of them up as cards!

#mr bricks reluctantly runs a message board for seekers #everyone treating it like some dead ARG and then they eventually get sucked in #i need a name for that though so comment if you have a good one #fallen london #neon future

[spicyraeman]

1. They're so cute 😭 My heart palpitations are not going to get better with these drawings

2. Astarion is the manager obv. He loves sweet talking people and feeling important too much

3. I kinda imagine them having a first band with Minthara but booting her out because she just wants to do some Bela Lugosi's Dead type of songs all the time and they're bored

3.1 Minthara doing her own band with Droz and Gut maybe? Also Gortash and Ketheric doing some old dad rock&roll

4. I imagine Lae'zel insisting on doing The Very Complicated And Long Song on every show, like Ghost Love Score or The Greatest Show on Earth from Nightwish

5. I kinda see Gale being the genius composer/producer in the shadow

6. Wyll is the community manager, his style doesn't match the bands but it's okay. He's wayyy too happy for hungover SH and sober Lae'zel

Am I too invested? Maybe. But what's stopping me? ( I hope I'm not spamming your asks, if so forgive me)

🫀🚑 Anon

Oooooo love these and there’s no such thing as being too invested, spam the shit outta my ask box I don’t mind (I'm just shit at answering anything timely)

Im kinda down for manager Ass, but from my limited experience with him it seems like he actively kinda hates talking to people and being responsible for things lol, really hoping building up some of the others helps me place him better cuz I really want him in here

I also had like, vague thoughts of Minthy being a solo artist (same with Halsin) but a band with Droz and Gut sounds funny as hell, the amount of snark generated from dealing with those two would be insane. And I could not give less of a shit about Gortash but dad rock Ketheric is just too good to pass up

Lae'zel is 100% that kinda person, imagine she'd relent tho as long as shes given at least one good chance to show off

Producer Gale is exactly on point for what I was thinkin'!! (he's prob a math rock nerd too) And Wyll being a community manager just fits sooo well, also imagined him being a solo artist stuck in a incredibly shitty contract cuz that story aspect translates really well. He may be too much at times but they love and appreciate him to bits 

#asks #bg3 band au #thank you for fueling my insanity #ive got a bunch of disjointed background and story pieces floating in my brain case #and these helped fill a couple gaps

[writing-with-sophia]

Hello!! I've been reading your blog for quite some time now, and it got me wondering... How do you write so easily? I have been finding writing hard, or actually getting into writing in general rather difficult. How do you just... Write? Or get motivated to write? Any tips or advice is helpful!! Thanks <3

Since these two questions are quite similar, I will answer them together in this article.

To be honest, it's quite difficult to answer the question of why I can write so easily clearly. I started writing at a very young age - when I was 8 years old, I began writing my first stories on paper (before that, I would compose them in my head). So, I became accustomed to transforming ideas into words and connecting them into paragraphs. As a child, I had numerous peculiar ideas, but since I couldn't draw them, I chose to write. Gradually, writing became a habit and a hobby for me.

I believe the reason I can write easily is the result of many years of practice. Writing has become second nature to me, just like a skilled craftsman easily creates a craft without needing as much time and effort as a beginner.

Of course, there are also moments when I can't write a single word. During such times, I mostly choose to ignore it and engage in other activities (lol) because I don't want to force myself to write. After all, writing is simply my hobby, not my job.

If you want to be motivated to write, I believe the best approach is to let your imagination run wild. When you have an idea, motivation will naturally follow. Additionally, it is beneficial to read a lot of books and practice your writing skills. It doesn't have to be limited to meaningful stories; you can write paragraphs describing people, scenes, or everyday experiences. By doing so, when you have an idea, you won't struggle to translate the thoughts in your mind into sentences on paper.

I hope you find enthusiasm in writing. If you have any questions, please feel free to send them to me!

#creative writing #writer things #writers #writers on tumblr #writersociety #writerscommunity #writing #writeblr #on writing #writblr #writings #writer #write #writers and poets #women writers #ao3 writer #writing life #author #writing stuff #writer stuff #writers block #my wrtitng #creative wrting #free wrting #wrtiting #wrtieblr #writing a book #writing community #writing advice #writing inspiration

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

after drawing the sparkly bider-man i wanted to make one for my AU... purely self-indulgent...

I doubt Peter would really take the time and expense to make a special pride suit he would only wear once or twice unless Johnny convinced him or smth so it's mostly hypothetical but still fun —

I was looking through my timeline trying to figure out when would make the most sense for this (which also included: has Johnny outed himself yet) and I ended up deciding 2014 makes the most sense because well, in 2012 he will be locked in a basement during June, and in 2013 he would be busy with Electro and finishing grad school, but 2014 is like... right after he and Flash get married so I can easily imagine Johnny being like "cmoooon let's dress up together, you just got gay-married" etc. and, well, peter does like to dress up... (otherwise he wouldn't be in spandex all the time 😂)

normally I avoid metallic or shiny spandex like the plague for suit designs cause I think it looks cheap but I made an exception for this 😂 it probably IS cheap...

closeups:

posing for pictures... johnny's idea, naturally. in my timeline i think johnny outs himself in like 2011 or so after a very messy divorce (from lyja) but I'm not spending too much time on the F4 stuff in this aside from just having a general idea so if they appear in a fic I know what's going on 😅 anyway by 2014 johnny is def way more comfortable with being publicly gay, since the cat's long out of the bag, though he's still got a lot of issues... but he's good at pretending to be okay :)

but also he still has a crush on peter 😂 tfw you have the hots for your superhero friend who just got married

peter actually already knows how johnny feels about him by the time he gets married, i just thought the dialogue was funny

I thought it would be fun if the lens frames were sparkly... normally I have his frames out of vulcanized black rubber (like car tire rubber) (...like might actually be carved from old tires) just cause I prefer the matte and slightly soft look compared to plastic... I figure something like sparkly firm silicone or sparkly plastic is probably pretty achievable for Peter to make. And the lenses would just be his normal bulletproof lenses but with an iridescent film on the outside to make them a little rainbowy...

and I think in 2014 irl holographic glitter spandex was like... something that existed that you could buy lol so i figure he can very carefully sew a holographic spider on.... so the spiders are like, that silvery white rainbow glitter kind of look

no webbing because there's a limit to how much labor and time peter would be willing to put into a flashy, kind of useless costume that he wouldn't be able to/want to wear very often... (and i wasn't a fan of how it looked)

bisexual fingers. there's a dirty joke in there somewhere.

it's difficult to come up with body-covering outfits that are suitable for summer weather as-is but the fact that he's wearing polyester spandex underneath really adds a layer of "i'm going to get heatstroke and die" to this outfit. lots of linen though. at least the armpits are athletic mesh.

also yeah the spidey shirt is a leotard with a snap crotch so. he's really just hoping that doesn't unroll under his clothes cause it would absolutely hang down very visibly from under his shirt if it were to fall. (maybe he can use his electrostatic sticking powers to just. hold it in place...)

he also can't roll down the waistband of his tights because it's more rigid than the rest of his costume on account of that's where he keeps all his spare web cartridges and it would suck if they all fell out LOL

hm i just noticed i accidentally gave peter a purple happy trail oops just pretend that's black

anyway

that's AU bider-man

oh

i also drew this which is much more corny/embarrassing but i thought it was a cute idea — by necessity has to be after flash is public and transitioning etc… so 2016 at the earliest but i drew this more like 2017 or 2018, after she's been on hrt and stuff and is probably more confident

i don't think there's a worry of accidentally spotlighting her/outing her because, well, she probably doesn't pass in a lot of people's eyes… broad shoulders, sideburns, etc. but… peter thinks she's pretty ❤️

i was gonna draw more of the gang but then the list kept expanding like, oh should i include X, what about Y? and it was. too many people. so then i just decided to only draw flash and peter 😂

they should have stickers on their shirts though... like a polyamory sticker... or pins...

#came in through the window last night #biderman #spiderman #spider-man #nadiart #fanadiart #arghdesign #peter parker

[bioluminesced]

saw your last fanart (16 of january) and it's so good

it beats me how this kind of colouring/painting is done though. how do you pick the right colours? the right places? the value of colour and it's warmth?

i always have trouble with colouring because i have a very strict basic knowledge of shadows and colours and no visual imagination

sorry for such a long ask

hi anon!! no need to apologize this is such a kind ask and i still really struggle with this sometimes. i didnt start experimenting with color in my art until around summer of 2022 and before that it was so frustrating to color that i almost didnt produce any colored work.

i also have complete aphantasia so my visual imagination is very limited! this leads to a lot of trial and error in my work because i cant tell what looks good until i simply try it lol

i will try to answer about my process as thoroughly as possible! but a lot of it is seriously just vibes, and playing around. a lot of what helped me was studying how artists i liked used color in THEIR work and trying to work it into my style.

a lot of the vibrancy and harmony in my work comes from my base layer, which i put under the sketch like im “priming” the canvas. when im coloring later on i let this base layer inform my choices and also let it show through in places for unification of the colors. its a lot like doing an underpainting except i dont go crazy on the range of values

the hardest part for me is doing the base colors over this layer. i dont have a lot of guidance for this because i kind of just pick colors to start with and then edit them bit by bit until it looks satisfying to me/matching the intended mood and harmonizing with the base layer. i edit the colors mostly by using gradient maps and layer modes until i find a version i like and merge it to just create a normal layer with the colors i want. i keep this base layer underneath my sketch

i render on top of my sketch/lineart always so i can better define the shapes and have smoother edges. this is the part where i really go crazier with my colors - some conscious decisions i make:

- where can i make my highlights and shadows stand out more? i accomplish this by choosing warm colors on the cool base or cool colors on the warm base. theres blue in the flesh tones of the face and orange in the blue tones of the coat.

- where does the rendering need to be more “clean”? someone viewing an art piece will gravitate to places in the drawing with finer detail, so i put a lot more work into the shapes and colors of the faces and the fish, because this is where i want someone to look the longest

another thing i usually do is pick one really saturated color and place it throughout the drawing. for thos one its that bright red, around the eye, blood, and outline of the fish as well as the characters’ hands.

this part of my process takes me the longest and can be seriously frustrating at times! something i always force myself to do is to keep working on it. whenever im like ok its done! i go back and render for another half hour and it ends up looking a lot better

gradient mapping the final drawing! for further unification i have a gradient map i made that works for most of my warm pieces

and i put it on top with an overlay layer mode and then adjust the opacity

it makes a big difference in the warmth and unification of the final drawing!! so honestly i cheat a little with my colors :P

i hope this helped a little bit with your question! my general advice is to also do some color studies of movies or pictures you like it really helped me get a feel for harmonizing color (and not being afraid to use really vibrant colors!!) again thank you for such an ask and good luck to you!!

#mjs asks #long post sorry! #i really just do whatever which is such a stupid way to put it but yeah

[scribbleseas]

Straight Laced, Chapter III: To Be A False Escort…

Description: After the London’s Royal Ballet company’s prima ballerina goes missing within a string of mysterious disappearances among the ballet’s young ballerinas, you finally get your chance to debut in the leading role, taking on the position’s physical toil and immense social pressure. Although this role was supposed to be your grand jeté into the spotlight, it is quickly complicated when these disappearances catch the eye of Ciel Phantomhive — the Queen’s Guard Dog. He is a captious and shrewd man who also happens to be one of London’s most eligible bachelors.

For enough profit for you to secure your freedom for the first time, Lord Phantomhive double casts you as both his accomplice to solving these dancer disappearances and… his pretend lover. While debuting as London’s new prima ballerina, you must perfect a brand new routine: deceiving all of the nation’s polite society while actively searching for a serial killer — all while being an immigrant from France with a dancer’s reputation.

What could go wrong when you realize this off-stage performance of yours may not be an act at all?

Story Warnings: detailed description of gore, pain, and violence, detailed death, smut & explicit sexual scenes, objectification, prostitution, allusions to under-aged prostitution, smoking, drinking, eating disorder tendencies (food restriction, frequent references to wanting to maintain a certain weight, over-practicing & exercising), infidelity, fake courtship, swearing

Author’s Note: Hi! Thank you so much for your support for Chapter 2. It was so, so motivating to see it and use it as inspiration to get this chapter together for you in a timely manner. I even surprised myself, lol. Don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts about this one! And any theories you may have about the main mystery! You guys mean to world to me :)

Happy Reading!

- Dan

MASTERLIST

⇐ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇒

October 13, 1895

The Phantomhive Estate’s Drawing Room

Receiving an offer to play billiards at the Earl of Phantomhive’s manor was the premiere invite. It was more coveted than an invitation to one of his balls or banquets, or even a request to meet in his office since it was the only way to know that you were a part of his inner circle. Phantomhive’s drawing room competition was only made up of his band of closest and most powerful allies.

Ciel preferred to keep this circle limited to the evil number five, including himself. After all, there was no use in quantity over the quality of service one might offer him. There was no use in saving face for some obsequious crowd when a smaller group could achieve the same and more.

At the established age of 20, Ciel hand-picked his own company, officially doing away with the former Earl’s out of self-preservation— most of those vultures were driven by their interest to unseat him, believing that they could outsmart his developing strategic mind. He had been 13 at the beginning of his reign.

Naturally, their gross assumptions led to the creation of the Phantomhive standard of care, which tended to mean: his staff taking creative license to maim or kill in extreme cases. He preferred to allow his staff to take care of the intricacies and portray while he reveled in his guests’ screams. Ciel imagined they would think better of crossing him, in the future.

Now, he sat in his long wingback chair, overseeing the game before him, half listening to his company, half planning his next turn in his mind. There were no good shots— he’d have to skip again. It was Ciel’s policy to never shoot unless he was certain he’d score. Taking useless turns that achieved little more than nothing was not in his nature.

“…Just can’t believe that ballerinas are dropping like flies and the Yard has all of us on a gag order,” Adam Blackwell, the Oxford Gazette editor-in-chief, grumbled. Originally from the States, it took time for Ciel to adjust to his blunt way of speaking. Although Blackwell seemed as though his blunt exterior made him unqualified for Ciel’s entourage, it was his influence on widespread media that made him a valuable partner. Blackwell cultivated Ciel’s publicity and in return, Ciel provided him with breaking stories, invaluable insight, and his endorsement. Now, the journalist’s words caught Ciel’s full attention.

Ballerinas ‘dropping like flies,’ the Yard’s ‘gag order.’

Ciel wasn’t aware that Her Majesty wished to keep these deaths quiet — nor why that would be. It wasn’t as if there would be a public outcry as a result; most perceived ballerinas as crass, vain, and promiscuous. Hardly a half step better than average prostitutes. They were every noble wife’s worst nightmare, given that their husbands were willing to empty their fortune to tousle their bedsheets with them, rather than remain faithful as their wedding vows outlined.

Now that he personally knew the Royal Opera House’s prima ballerina, Ciel understood where the stereotype emerged from. He’d never met a woman who smoked cigars or disrespected him with such insistence. He wrinkled his nose in remembrance of the permanent cloud of smoke that Y/n was so attached to and the tantalizing way she presented herself.

Of course, the worst of it was that Y/n was almost attractive enough for it to work if Ciel weren’t a gentleman.

Almost, he felt he needed to emphasize.

“Phantomhive,” the Viscount of Tiverton, Gabriel Giffard said his name impatiently. He chalked the tip of his cue stick, slightly wary of meeting Ciel’s eye. “Blackwell reminds me; I needed to tell you that there has been talk,” he ran the cue chalk over the stick’s end until there was a thick blue film over it. “Amongst the barons.”

“Talk?” Ciel asked, his back straightening in the chair. Giffard, like him, inherited his viscounty much too young as a result of a tragic accident. Only the carriage crash that killed his parents was likely a genuine accident as opposed to the purposeful Phantomhive estate inferno that killed Ciel’s parents and left him a sacrifice for a deranged cult.

Now, Giffard was known for secrets, pulling them from all ranks within British society: royalty, nobility, and the low class. How he came across them, Ciel was unsure, but he knew better than to dismiss his words. “Of what sort?”

“Lord Chancellor spotted you in the foyer de la danse at the Opera House. Socializing, bidding…winning said bid,” Giffard said facetiously, already knowing that it was true because his informants would never dare lie. The Viscount’s magnetic attitude was what tended to draw people in so close— it was what made strangers turn to friends after mere moments into an exchange. Ciel wasn’t quite convinced by the facade, but Giffard was plenty helpful.

Of course, it was Lord Chancellor. The man had nothing better to do than gamble his limited fortune away and cover his shame with undignified, craven, sexual acts with any ensemble member he could afford.

“Bidding? Excuse me?” Samantha Marias Delgaudio asked her lightly freckled features twisted into a look of animated surprise. “Phantomhive? Bidding? What?” She repeated the words as if the English made no sense to her, taking a soothing drink from her wine glass. Per the norm, it was filled with her favorite rosé, a brand that Ciel had shipped in for her. He didn’t have much of a taste for wine, but she visited often enough to warrant the special shipment. Moreso, Carlo Gancia was a longtime family friend to the Phantomhive family.

“Explain, Phantomhive.” Her hazel eyes squinted at Ciel, zeroing in on him the same way a sharpshooter would.

“Samantha—” Ciel started. She reminded him of a younger Madame Red, his late aunt, Angelina Dalles. Samantha had the same red hair, a dimpled smile, and easy humor.

“Sam,” she rolled her eyes, tired of the correction. She was the second-youngest daughter of Police Lieutenant Peter Delgaudio, close right hand to the Scotland Yard’s Police Commissioner, Arthur Randall. Randall, the supercilious bastard, was not fit for retirement quite yet. In another five years, hopefully. Sam wasn’t one for formalities, but so long as she refrained from using Ciel’s first name, he’d tolerate it. Besides, she tended to let a few facts about the Yard’s current cases slip, updating him on their progress, incoming cases, and loyalties within the force. Fred Abberline was too subservient for such a service, but Sam enjoyed the dramatics of being Ciel’s insight.

“No, Sam. You need to tell us why the Police Commissioner refuses to let me report these murders!” Blackwell interjected. “I could care less about where Phantomhive decides to—”

“Oh, be quiet, we can talk about that later,” Sam snapped, always one to get to the point. She turned her attention back to Ciel. “Why were you in the dance foyer?”

“The rest of the word is that you won the right to be Y/n Y/l/n’s only subscriber,” Viscount Tiverton added, adding to Sam’s outrage. He sent bitter looks to Sam and Blackwell, irritated that they interrupted his gossip.

“Who? The lead dancer?” Sam demanded.

“Prima ballerina,” Blackwell corrected, pedantic when it came to using the correct terms.

“That means the same thing!”

Ciel sighed, resigned. He should have paid more attention to the rest of the dance foyer’s guests and disguised himself better— one of the bidding noblemen recognized him. It was a risk to so much as admit that he was pretending to be Y/n Y/l/n’s patron to this tightly-knit group. The more people knew the more likely Natasha Gusev-Wood could realize that her company was under official investigation. She and her husband were still people of interest.

Besides, it was harmful for Ciel’s reputation to be a subscriber to a ballerina. He was the Head of Phantomhive; someone of his stature needed to be courting a proper lady, not soiling sheets with a coquettish, sultry dancer. He needed to change the narrative. Soften it. Make it slightly less scandalous.

“I am courting her,” Ciel replied simply, lying through his teeth. “My bidding serves to pay her rent and keep other men away at the same time.”

“No, you must be investigating her,” Richard Clerkenwell interjected, finishing his shot. He was always one to choose the worst time to enter the topic at hand.

Clerkenwell knocked the blue striped ball — the 10 — into a hole, the cue ball stopping on the edge before the pocket. The hit cleared the way for Ciel to knock solids one and six in. He handed the cue stick off to Sam for her to take her turn, but she merely held it in her hand, unwilling to let the subject drop while she played.

Clerkenwell was an Underworld arms dealer, running a minor branch within his family crime syndicate. The group dealt in weapons manufacturing and minor drug dealing, harmless enough to remain under Her Majesty’s radar with Ciel’s aid, but prominent enough for Richard to be a strong ally for the favor. Richard provided Ciel’s house staff (his undercover guards) with the latest in arms and weapons for a strong discount.

Unfortunately, that meant Clerkenwell had the finest criminal instinct out of the four of Ciel’s close acquaintances. Although he hadn’t seen through Ciel’s lie entirely, he didn’t miss the mark. Enlisting Y/n as his eyes and ears within the dance company kept her close. Ciel would be remiss to assume she was entirely innocent. After all, no crime can be committed with a motive.

There was no better motive than forcibly removing the competition— Ciel would know. Still…Sebastian’s words still held strong truth within them, “Miss Y/l/n does not seem to have the constitution of a killer.” The demon seemed comfortable with dismissing the prima ballerina as a suspect, but Ciel was not quite convinced.

“If she were the killer, there would have been no need for her to kill anyone besides Janet Fischer,” Sebastian had said. He had a point. Bloody demon.

“Investigating Y/n? So the Queen put you on this already,” Blackwell assumed. By watching his face, Ciel could see the journalist piecing the headline, the lede, and the rest of the story together in his head.

“No, Her Majesty did not.” Ciel scowled, wishing he could send the arms dealer to an early grave. But unfortunately, that would do more harm than good. If he was going to convince the rest of polite society that he was in love with Y/n, he needed to successfully convince this room first. “The case is in its infant stages. She wouldn’t enlist me without giving the Yard a fair chance,” he glanced at Sam meaningfully.

“That’s a nasty coincidence then,” Blackwell replied.

“I merely attended the ballet and took a vested interest in her,” Ciel struggled to coax his lips into a slight half-smile, a smug look that he imagined he’d give upon sharing vague details about his personal life. It was Earl’s grin, not his own, but that was the look they were accustomed to. The poisonous look of joy on his face normally insinuated that someone was about to take an unfortunate loss. “I am her patron. Becoming so was the only way to ensure the vermin stayed away from her.”

Fine. They will perceive the utter lack of adoration in his face as protective hostility.

Besides, there wasn’t a lot Ciel liked about Y/n to put the expected lovestruck look on his face. Overt frustration and protectiveness were better alternatives, given that he could hardly muster a smile when she crossed his mind. She was everything he disliked about commoners: promiscuous, rude, outspoken. Now he would need to fool his social circle into believing that he was steps away from wedding her.

It wouldn’t be his worst endeavor for the sake of Her Majesty.

“You intend to make her your Countess? Were you not having tea with Lady Howard?” Viscount Tiverton asked.

Tiverton would tell Ciel everything he needed to know at the expense of informing his circles about Ciel to avoid unwanted scrutiny. No one knew who the Earl invited to his billiards games— that information was as confidential as Funtom stocks. Thus, Tiverton would share sanitized versions of the truth, based on Ciel’s strategic allowances. Even still, carelessly allowing this information to ripple throughout the aristocracy was far from ideal. There needed to be a plan. Ciel would need to come to a supplementary understanding with him to control who got hold of the news and when.

Perhaps, that would be a follow-up meeting between himself, Tiverton, and Blackwell.

Caroline Howard was the daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. Becoming a Duke was perhaps the only social upgrade Ciel was willing to make, given that the only title higher than a Duke was a royal, and with such an opportunity, there was no need to explore any lower matches, which would be an available Marquis or another Earldom.

Becoming the next Duke of Norfolk was well within his grasp, given the Howard family’s desire to progress their slow-moving relationship. Or it would have been within his grasp if he wasn’t sacrificing his personal life for the sake of the investigation. Ciel thought bitterly, silently cursing Y/n for her promiscuous reputation, cursing the Yard for being incapable of doing its job without his interference.

“I’ve promised nothing to her,” Ciel stood from his chair, taking the Viscount’s freshly chalked cue stick to take his turn. He lined the cue stick with the ball, taking ample time to ensure that the angle would strike both balls into position. When Ciel was careless, he missed as a result of his eyepatch misaligning his depth perception.

Though if he could kill two birds with one stone— two balls with one turn — he’d be that much closer to winning. Clerkenwell put up a decent fight; he always did. These individuals knew how Ciel detested an easy victory, but in the end, he was the champion.

“You’ve been after a Dukedom for the past two years, Phantomhive,” Blackwell shook his head, scoffing at Ciel’s flawless hit. American businessmen never seemed to understand the importance of the drawing room. Too many waged important decisions and bets on childish games such as these were made here to overlook.

“Such matters can wait. There is no crime in enjoying Y/n’s presence now that she’s caught my interest,” Ciel allowed them to draw their conclusions from those words. He righted himself and handed off the cue stick to Sam. She cursed under her breath, unhappy with where Ciel left the cue ball.

He understood why Blackwell, Giffard, Sam, and Clerkenwell doubted him. No matter how Ciel fabricated the truth, it was still inconsistent. Improbable. They knew he was after a duchy, a noble wife to round out his chessboard. Y/n was a firebrand. She was not a Countess, much less a citizen of Her Majesty, coming from France. Ballerinas existed on stage to all, and backstage to those who could afford it. A prima ballerina did not have what was necessary to fulfill the Queen’s role on his board.

“Regardless, she will accompany me to your upcoming ball, Lord Tiverton,” Ciel sent a chilling smile towards the group, daring them to commentate further. “Now. Let’s finish our game, shall we?”

No one protested.

October 14, 1895

The Royal Opera House, Outside Y/n’s Dressing Room

Y/n was due to update Ciel on the information she uncovered since their discussion at the breakfast table. In an effort to keep their partnership inconspicuous, he offered to meet her backstage and escort her to the hovel that she called her townhouse. Prior to meeting her, he explored it with Sebastian, searching for clues of her being their killer, but most of her drawers contained pointe shoes of various quality, assorted sewing tools, clothing, packs of cigars, and wine. The only items that she seemed to make an effort to hide were expensive gifts from subscribers, and given that none of the victims’ fortunes were touched, there was no reason to assume the killer worked for a financial agenda.

Ideally, Ciel would have waited for Y/n inside her dressing room and allowed her director to presume they were having relations while they were truly going over information Y/n gleaned.

Though now that Ciel was claiming to be courting her, his plans needed to chasten and publicize. What was supposed to insinuate a sordid backstage affair, now needed to become the Earl of Phantomhive bringing his romantic interest roses after her flawless role in the show and escorting her home. Keeping her safe and well-provided for was the job of a false escort, he reckoned, despite having little to no romantic experience.

More to the point: their interactions needed to become much more inconvenient. Having to bring himself to the Opera House every other evening was already quite a burden but now, he needed to spend public, perceivable time with Y/n to make his story plausible. And rake his reputation through the mud while he was at it.

Blackwell and Tiverton’s words could only help so much. At the very least, Ciel’s blatant power was enough to keep any opposition or vitriol from his enemies private.

“Lord Phantomhive!” Natasha Gusev-Wood stopped in her tracks upon noticing him standing outside her star’s dressing room. He’d purposely paid an excess amount of money to avoid the dance foyer because the scene was too grotesque to subject himself to every other evening. (Watching sexual exploitation felt abhorrently close to participating in it.) When Ciel wrote a check for three times the amount he did to become Y/n’s sole patron, Natasha seemed to understand what he was conveying.

She briefly dipped her head as a gesture of respect. Her eyes were grey-ish blue. They were catlike as they surveyed him, pausing the bouquet of roses in his hands. Half of Natasha’s weight seemed to depend on the long cane at her side, the leather handle perfectly molded to her grip. The customization suggested that she needed walking assistance for quite a while.

“Mrs. Wood,” Ciel replied, making minimal effort to match her enthusiastic greeting. He returned her singular nod.

“Y/n should let you in a moment, I’ve only just helped her out of her costume,” she gestured to her single handful of tulle, her free hand grappling with what seemed to be an ensemble member’s outfit: a simple white number with the swan headpiece. Her Russian accent hardened her English. Uncomfortable with Ciel’s continued silence, she spoke again: “Our costume director has her hands full with preparations for The Nutcracker.” He assumed she was attempting to explain why she, the director and choreographer, was dealing with tasks as mundane as dressing and undressing her company.

“I understand,” Ciel opted to use the time to ask her about her husband, William, while he had the chance. Supposedly, the man was in France, scouting new ensemble members from the dance school Y/n grew up in. The timing was ironic to Ciel: about ten dancers are found dead, and the Opera House’s owner decides to search for a replacement, ignoring the issue altogether.

It was more than ironic. It was suspicious.

“How is William, these days?” As irritating as small talk was, it was often quite insightful.

Natasha answered as he expected her to. Her full lips pulled into a smile, her laugh was bashful. “He is set to return from Paris quite soon; he was looking for an understudy for Mother Ginger, given that the role is rather precarious,” she said, not expecting him to understand the reference. “But he is well!” Ciel couldn’t sense any half-truths or hesitation in her words— either she was a trained liar, or she was being honest.

“Do send him my regards,” Ciel requested, looking to build the foundation needed to have a meeting with the man. He needed to gauge him and decide whether or not the rumors surrounding William were true…

“Come in, Lord Phantomhive!” Y/n’s falsely cheerful voice called from the other side of the door, but Ciel didn’t move. This exchange was too pivotal to the investigation for two reasons: one, Natasha was the key to a meeting with William, and two, this would be the first time Ciel admitted to courting Y/n to anyone besides his allies. Natasha would spread the word, and her inevitable recount of the interaction would need to have the warmth necessary to be believable.

“Y/n will adore those flowers. Have a lovely night,” Natasha smiled. She picked up her cane, readying herself to step away, but the fabricated vulnerability on Ciel’s face must have stopped her. It was the same look Sebastian used when he needed someone to let their guard down— Ciel had plenty of time to learn to replicate it, over the years. Beyond that, he was a rather gifted liar.

“Do you truly think so?” Ciel asked breathlessly, sparing a look at the door to suggest that he was worried about Y/n listening in and another to his flowers to insinuate that he was rethinking them. “I…wish to begin courting her.” It was a flawless construction of a well-guarded man showing a crack in his armor for the sake of love. It was storybook. Ciel fought the feeling of bile rising in his throat.

Natasha’s mouth fell open, unsure of how to reply. “I-…they are beautiful. A man can never go wrong with classic red roses,” she managed through her surprise.

“I appreciate it. Thank you, Mrs. Wood,” he surrendered a smile.

“Of course, Lord Phantomhive,” Natasha nodded stiffly, her own knowing smile reflecting his. “I wish you the best of luck,” and with that, she continued walking to her original destination, newly armed with the freshest gossip to occupy the streets of London.

Once she was out of earshot, Ciel replied to Y/n. ���Ready yourself to leave. I am escorting you to your home for the evening,” he raised his voice so she could hear him.

To his surprise, Y/n didn’t argue with him. Instead, she emerged from her dressing room after several moments, a small bag slung over her shoulder. As Natasha did, her gaze locked on his flowers before she looked at him with uncertainty. “Ciel…” she questioned, her eyebrows knitting.

“We should take our leave,” Ciel suggested, before lowering his voice, leaning downwards to address her more privately. There was a relative bustle backstage, but luckily, the ensemble and stage crew kept away from the prima ballerina’s dressing room, for the most part. “You will have your explanation in the carriage. Take this bouquet and hold onto my arm,” he muttered, righting himself and offering her the bouquet. It was a small cluster of red roses bound together by a thick brown ribbon, a touch of baby’s breath and greenery accented the sea of crimson petals.

Y/n held the bouquet in one hand and her other hand laced around Ciel’s arm hesitantly. She wiped away every hint of confusion from her face and replaced it with a satisfied half-smile, her back straightening with confidence, a sureness at his side. Bringing the flowers to her nose, she smelled them and sighed with gratitude. She was a better actress than Ciel originally thought.

“I adore them. Thank you, Lord Phantomhive,” he had to look away from her smile, avoiding it, in the same way, someone might avoid staring into the sun’s rays. He made a distinct effort to focus on her choice of addressing him.

“Sebastian is outside with the carriage,” he explained, leading the prima ballerina towards the exit near the dance foyer, allowing assorted ensemble members and their patrons to catch a glance at himself and his supposed courtship partner. If Natasha served the purpose he hoped, they all would have known to keep a particular eye out for them.

The moment they settled into the carriage, their respective placid expressions dropped like masquerade masks.

“Ciel, what happened?” Y/n demanded. “What happened to, ‘we are not courting, Y/n. We are not friends, Y/n,’ hm?” she impersonated him, lowering her voice to create a husky caricature of his. Her British accent was horrifying— she butchered the language enough in the first place, but this was a step further.

He certainly expected her to react this way, given that she was the personification of the theater itself. She was all drama, all theatrics. That was part of what made her so insufferable to him, a logical being.

To you, I am Lord Phantomhive! He wanted to demand, but at this point, he was growing weary of the correction. Briefly, he wondered if this was how Sam felt, constantly correcting people’s forms of address.

“Explain!” Y/n ordered just as the carriage began moving.

Ciel released the inhale he was holding. He shouldered off his black overcoat and folded it across his lap, suddenly uncomfortably warm without the chilly autumn air to keep him cold. The desire to explain himself was nowhere to be found. He rarely needed to do so! He was the Earl of Phantomhive!

She was no one in comparison; the bastard child of a maid and her employer, raised in a dance school out of convenience for her parents. A means for them to hide their shame.

Even so, Ciel found himself looking for the best way to inform her of what had happened in the past day.

“A Baron recognized me in the foyer de la danse. Acquaintances of mine questioned me about the matter, and I needed to keep my cover intact to ensure that no one heard word of my investigation.”

“Our investigation,” Y/n interrupted, causing a flare of annoyance to set Ciel’s lips in a pursed line. He took a sharp inhale, willing the argument to die on his tongue.

“Fine. They now need to believe that we are courting— for the good of our investigation,” Ciel said dryly, tilting his chin in a show of silent defiance, daring her to raze him further.

Y/n laughed, the outburst erupting out of her like a firework, bright and full of color. Her smile was lopsided and more genuine than he’d ever seen it, even if she was laughing at him. Her knees pulled together as she doubled over, acting as if the magnitude of her amusement may as well kill her.

He rolled his eyes and put his frustration towards squeezing his jacket.

“You told your friends that you have taken a liking to me?” Her shoulders shook with the effort that it took to reign herself in.

Ciel found a new reason to dislike her: her captivating smile, the way it made the corner of his mouth twitch because he confronted the hilarity of the situation.

Only, Ciel disliked that reason. Instead, he decided to focus on his existing ones: her selfishness, the sultry attitude of hers, her stubbornness. The fact that she originally deemed her ‘too busy’ to bother talking to her co-workers. She considered herself busy? Ciel ran an Earldom, multi-million corporation, and worked as a private investigator for Her Majesty.

That was why he had little to no interest in finding a wife, after Elizabeth. To this day, he struggled to take that utter embarrassment in stride.

“I had no choice. Admitting that my intended goal was to be your patron would have dealt near-irreparable damage to the Phantomhive name,” Ciel continued, finally sobering her riotous grin. “Telling them that I was acting as your patron would have—”

“Made them realize you were investigating my company, yes,” Y/n rubbed at the bridge of her nose, kneading the amusement off of her face. “I understand. But the thought of us in courtship is…” inconceivable? impossible? inane? “…Unbelievable,” she settled on. “Me and you? We could never hope to…” she thought out loud, trying to piece the logic together.

“—I’ve already set it up,” Ciel cut in. They were always interrupting one another. “All that is necessary is your consent, and I would be willing to compensate you for the additional time, as well.”

“Additional time?” She repeated.

“Noble courtship is a full schedule. You would be accompanying me to social events and public outings…” Ciel explained, expecting her to decline. He sounded like Sebastian, the careful way he debriefed potential wives for Ciel’s purposes.

As she puzzled over his words, the carriage came to a stop. Her head jerked towards the window, peering out of the glass as if she considered the possibility of Ciel holding her hostage at his estate until she consented. He could never. She was too irritating for anyone to hold hostage— even the most committed crime syndicate would surrender her. Ciel imagined Clerkenwell putting a bullet between her eyebrows for nothing more than to make her stop talking.

“Come up with me,” Y/n ordered, opening the carriage door and letting herself out before Sebastian could.

She didn’t give Ciel the opportunity to decline the offer. Instead, he followed her to her front step and watched her unlock the rusted doorknob. He shared a nod with his butler before stepping through the threshold and following the ballerina up the old stairway, since she rented out the first floor of the townhouse to a single mother and her daughter. He forced himself to take in her living space with interest to avoid suggesting that he’d been there before her inviting him inside.

The second floor was made up of two main rooms: Y/n’s bedroom and her common room, a multi-purpose space that housed a small kitchenette and an apothecary cabinet pulled against one side of the room with two couches and a coffee table pulled towards the side. Several large mirrors and a barre occupied the free side. Every surface was filled with assorted clutter and a thin sheen of uneven dust— Y/n cleaned some areas more than others.

She told him to take a seat and wait while she showed herself to her room to change out of her leotard, tights, flats, and the ratty sweater that she used to cover herself against the cool night. Reluctantly, he obeyed, ignoring the vague scent of smoke and her floral perfume. A variety of wine bottles lined a section of the shelves, but there were only two wine glasses next to them. The only visible food seemed to be a half loaf of bread, unopened jam, and crackers.

Even Ciel’s servants ate more and lived in better conditions than Y/n did— three well-rounded meals and quarters in his guest house, respectively. She had to have relied on her income from suitors and the ballet to maintain even this standard of living.

Minutes later, Y/n re-emerged from her bedroom. She scrubbed her face clear of any makeup and changed into an oversized night shirt and short drawers, leaving her legs exposed to her upper thigh. Her shirt was practically see-through— it was white and it fell an inch past her hips, resembling a night shirt he would wear to sleep.

Not only was Y/n all smoke and drama; she was also the very personification of scandal.

Yet, Ciel’s objection to her clothing died on his tongue. Instead, he cleared his throat and adjusted his trousers, since he had yet to sit on one of her dilapidated couches. The throw rug covering the wooden floor didn’t seem any better, nor did the wooden chair hastily pulled next to the kitchenette counter. Everything in the room seemed crowded towards one side to make room for the mirrors and the barre on the far wall.

“I need to darn my new shoes,” Y/n started sifting through one of the drawers in the apothecary cabinet. “We can discuss our courtship while I do,” she picked out a curved needle, thread, a thimble, and scissors, effortlessly sitting herself onto the rug. She crossed her legs in front of her, causing her shirt to hike up and expose the short drawers.

“So you intend to follow my plan, then?” Ciel said the question like a statement.

“I wish to avenge my friends. I will do what I must,” Y/n expectant eyes watched him blankly before turning playful, understanding why he had yet to touch any of the furniture in her home. A class difference. A world’s worth of differences between the conditions they believed were livable.

Being in this townhouse made Ciel’s skin crawl. He almost expected to catch a disease from being there. And yet, he didn’t show himself out.

Y/n’s smile was lopsided, hiding a sting of hurt smoothed over by immense self confidence. Ciel knew that look rather well. “Sit…unless the Earl of Phantomhive is only able to sit on fabric created by the best of silks and threads, sewn together by the best of—” the expression Ciel gave her was frustrated to make her laugh, cutting off her own sardonic words. After giving the area across from her a long look, Ciel sat himself down, cringing at the thought of the grime beneath him. The dirt. He was nearly certain these trousers were new, and now he’d need to tell Sebastian to burn them along with the rest of the evening’s ensemble when this was all over with.

“Has anyone told you how insufferable you are?” Ciel asked, watching her pull thread through the eye of her needle. She tied off the thread and cut the excess, paying his insult little to no mind. In fact, she almost seemed amused by his comment.

“I know no one has told you how insufferable you are,” she snorted derisively. “If they did, you would not be so…you.” Her threaded needle flew in and out of the satin shoe and she seemed to be stitching around the perimeter of the flat bit on the tip. The area the ballerinas balanced on. Y/n worked the needle precisely, almost as rapidly as Ciel’s mother used to embroider.

“I happen to do rather well for myself,” Ciel thought of the ever-prosperous Funtom Corporation, his extensive list of solved cases for Her Majesty, and his winning streak in chess. He did more than well for himself; so much so that there was hardly room to grow. The only way for him to improve his status would be to marry into a dukedom or a marquis, but that was so far into the future, he could hardly imagine it. Instead, Ciel decided to focus on more pressing matters: “what have you heard over the past two days?”

“Well,” Y/n paused to think. “No one else has missed rehearsal…but I learned some more of the patron’s names. For a dancer who…passed, and current company members,” she listed out names she remembered. For the most part, she caught wind of the most long standing subscribers, but only found the name of one patron of a murdered ballerina.

“Eliza O’Malley and Lord Alexander Huntington— Mr. Wood said she quit the company shortly before Janet died,” those particular names were the next step in the investigation, surely. Lords Tiverton and Huntington were throwing a joint ball at the end of the week to commemorate their corporation’s grand opening. It was some sort of soap manufacturer, amongst other luxury items for the washroom. There was nothing particularly special about the company’s product, but Ciel imagined it would do well because the Viscounts advertised it as luxury.

“I know Lord Huntington,” Ciel told Y/n about his and Lord Tiverton’s company and upcoming event. “We should make an appearance together. See if he knows anything of what happened to O’Malley,” the Yard found the ensemble dancer in pieces, her body partially pecked apart by vultures two blocks away from her home. The Undertaker suggested she died of a heart attack due to hard drug use. If she weren’t the eighth ballerina to die over the past month, the Yard would have ruled it an accident.

“If it is one killer, they are certainly well read and dedicated, my Lord. This is a wide variety of means to kill a human,” Sebastian had mused, likely amused at the thought of how fragile the human body is.

Ciel could tell Y/n wanted to ask what happened to Eliza, but she hesitated, leaving the question on her pursed lips. It was one of the more gruesome ends involved in this case. Ciel opted to spare her— there was little he detested more than crying. It was a waste of time and energy.

Not all of the bodies have been recovered yet, either. Ten merely commemorated how many ballerinas have been reported as missing. But the six of them found have all been dead.

“For one person to have the ability to kill these dancers in so many ways insinuates that they can directly manipulate their victim’s schedules,” Sebastian continued. They were looking for an authority figure. Someone with power— like a common patron, or William Wood himself. The man needed to return to London, and soon.

“We would need to attend after my performance,” Y/n tied off her stitch and repeated the process for her other pointe shoe.

“Fine. Have you attended a noble ball before?” Ciel asked, unsure if commoners held such events. Though, one glance at Y/n’s home suggested they did not.

“Yes, I have,” she didn’t need to explain, because Ciel had an idea as to why she would attend one. Subscribers with twisted morals were more than eager to show off their beautiful belongings, even if a living human qualified as such a thing. “Rather boring affairs, are they not?” Y/n asked rhetorically.

He reminded himself to write Y/n a larger check. No one deserved to sell their body to live— even if Y/n was, by far, the most frustrating person Ciel had come across in his life. That foyer saw to years long of demeaning abuse, no matter how content she pretended to be.

The insignia on Ciel’s torso burned as a reminder. The Mark of the Beast. He forced himself to swallow down the forming lump in his throat.

At least they shared a mutual disdain for the events, though he suspected for different reasons.

“You nobles are extremely rude,” Y/n claimed, wrinkling her nose as if she’d consumed something bitter. “You all grow up in such…lavishness; I would think your personalities would be slightly more pleasant for it.”

“And what exactly makes you believe you are so much more amicable?”

“Should you not know, Ciel?” She feigned innocence, batting her long eyelashes at him before her expression shifted to be more serious. Her pivoting needle paused; she was nearly halfway around the perimeter of the outer sole. “But truly: I may not be the kindest; but I am honest. I will never lie to you.” She expected him to reciprocate the sentiment, but he was reluctant to.

Ciel was a liar. A manipulator. Someone whose lies almost exclusively served his self-interest. Promising the truth to Y/n would be the equivalent of a wasp promising not to sting. Ciel could, of course, try. But if the situation demanded him to protect himself, he would. Repeatedly.

“Then I will do most everything in my power to do the same,” Ciel said cautiously, choosing the assemblage of words strategically. He didn’t promise— Y/n wouldn’t appreciate it, if she understood him the way she clearly thought she did.

Y/n’s smile was small. It held a note of melancholia, but there was a new appreciation in her eyes when he met them. She straightened her back and extended a hand, allowing her free one to hold her darning needle. “Then I look forward to our courtship,” she said, referring to their partnership and the particular way it needed to manifest. An extremely public relationship.

Still wearing his gloves, Ciel took her hand and gave it his business shake. He could feel her palm’s warmth through the leather. Her grip was firm like a nobleman’s.

“As do I.”

#anime fanfiction #black butler fanfic #historical fiction #historical romance #ciel phantomhive x reader #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #black butler fanfiction #ciel phantomhive x you #ciel x you #ciel x y/n #straight laced #black butler x y/n #black butler x you #black butler x reader

[zhongscara]

rambling about my genshin ocs below UGH I NEED TO DRAW THEM SOON

mikhail - 5* hydro claymore (snezhnaya)

my first real genshin oc lol. i was stuck on what his kit would be for a long time (yes im That kind of genshin oc maker) but since fontaine introduced hp manipulation as a mechanic i think that fits him nicely! the earliest skill i had set for him was a passive actually. like whenever his elemental skill is active, overworld enemy drops within his aoe are automatically collected. he's edgy and shit like unironically Ow The Edge i love him.

nafisa - 5* geo catalyst (sumeru)

tbh her kit is inspired by that part in scara's kit where he gets buffs from elements that react w anemo. but for her it's like. when she collects crystallize shards she receives specific elemental buffs. also i imagine her making geo fists that fight alongside her bc melee catalysts are fun!!! she's a mercenary that gained a vision when she nearly sacrificed herself to go out of her way to protect a customer. i'm toying with the idea of her being blind (toph moment) but i'm not sure if i want to try to factor that into gameplay or not.

antoine - 4* geo catalyst (fontaine)

i wanted a sort of. bennett type but in a different element. also i want more geo catalysts. his thing is he buffs damage overall. the original idea is just pure dmg buff that follows u around based off his def because i want him to be more broken (like the early 4*) but idk... if we're being realistic we can nerf him either by limiting him with an aoe or a mid high burst cost (not faruzan level though please god. maybe like 160% er). he's supposed to be someone you just stack def (and maybe some er) on and go. he's kind off the sickly rich victorian boy trope bc i think that trope is hilarious. he has a meka butler named pascal and i'm considering him having a prosthetic leg.

and yes i know mikhail and antoine are already npc names idgaf. JSHGJKSDHJGKLSDJGKL

#mine.txt #ocs.txt