#why is this colour palette so fire

[feraltuft]

Amoeba!!!!!!

#why is this colour palette so fire #lil guys look at them #tag urself #weeeeeeeoooowahoooweeyaaawawawooo #doodles #warmup art #kawaii #kawaii art #lil guys #tag yourselves #digital illustration #illustration #digital art #feraltuftart #art #furry artist #lil guy look at him #doodle #cute art #cute #happy

[selvypilled]

im sorry but graphic novel moonwatcher is so UGLY they did her so dirty

#wings of fire #moonwatcher #WHY DIDNT THEY JUST LIKE... #keep the colour palette of the book cover #ALSO THE OUTLINE ON THE SILVER SCALE NEXT TO HER EYE #so ugly i hate it

[dykepuffs]

Goncharov's name keeps being overlooked but it feels really relevant in thinking about the themes of the film.

"Goncharov" comes from "Gonchar"- as in, a potter, and "-ov" to make a patronym (Hence why in the Russian language scenes, we hear "Katya Goncharova" even when the subtitles say "Mrs Goncharov" - But I am not going to digress onto how to translate Russian language formality conventions into English)

Gonch is, metaphorically, a potter- In the speech about seeing the potential in his pseudo-legitimate-business' labourers, overlaid over a montage of them unloading palettes of bricks from a lorry, the colours are graded so that the bare backs and arms of the men, and the fired clay of the bricks, seem like one material- with the young, metaphorically green, Lyosha being darker and softer, like raw terracotta fresh from the ground.

Plenty of people have gone into the racial implications of it (which are many!) but the idea of the potter feels underexplored - Goncharov is not like a sculptor who sees the human form hidden in the marble, he is the potter who can take common raw clay and, by carefully adding things to the mix and firing it at the heat he chooses, can make whatever he wants. The older men are further along in the process, and can't change their path, but Lyosha (at this point!) Could still have been anything, before Goncharov's manipulation set him to inevitably come to the end he does(That promise to make him tough and to stand on his own... Oof).

But then, he is Gonchar-OV, he has inherited his place in the hierarchy, and Katya Goncharova in turn has inherited it, and the accompanying ability to manipulate her underlings. And, where it ends up being Goncharov's undoing, it saves Katya.

#Goncharov #gonchposting #unreality

[vilhelios]

— I THINK I LOVED YOU IN ANOTHER LIFE .

( WHERE I WAS THE SEA, & YOU WERE THE SHORE . ) ; general fluffy romantic headcanons for rafayel / qi yu from love and deepspace <3

CW: not beta read, general rafayel story/lore spoilers, may be slightly ooc, tooth-rotting fluff, very slight angst !!!

— RAFAYEL is a terribly sweet, loyal, and affectionate lover. sometimes, you think he is something like a lovesick puppy—always ready to greet you at the door with a warm hug when you return from a mission, always eagerly awaiting your phone calls and texts. always at your side. when he calls you darling and holds you close, burrows his head into the crook of your neck, you can't help but feel like your being has been warmed by a pleasant summer sunbeam.

despite this, sometimes he feels like he's drifting somewhere far away from you. a receeding ocean tide, sea foam dissolving from your fingertips as you dip your hands in the waves. he's somewhere you don't understand, when he looks into your eyes and searches for an iteration of you in the reflected image of his own eyes—perhaps he is 800 years away, a lifetime and more. and yet, when you gingerly cup his face in your palms, feel him lean into your touch, you know he returns to you.

— RAFAYEL'S art studio is admittedly, a mess. there are days where you'll enter that room spotless and leave with splatters of some new shade of red and his beloved blues all over your clothes and skin. some days, this happens purely on accident—a trip right into a canvas here, a palm pressed onto wet paint there—and on others, rafayel seems to delight in using you as a canvas.

— when RAFAYEL kisses you (in that gentle fashion, where he cups your cheek like if he doesn't you'll slip like seafoam from his hold), those soft lips of his taste of cherries and grapes and strawberries. and perhaps that best encapsulates what loving rafayel is like, this sweetest red, red, red: the way his cheeks and ears flush when you press a kiss to his cheek; the colour of his eyes when the morning's rose-gold sunlight hits the pink in them just right; the bleeding, beating heart he offers to your awaiting hands. eventually, he pulls away to let the both of you breathe, and when he presses his forehead against yours, glances at you with that charming smile of his, you're enveloped in warm crimson all over again.

"there." rafayel smiles, leans back to admire the flamulla he'd painted on your cheek and the pout that graces your lips. "a cute flamulla for the cutie that keeps distracting me."

"you weren't even painting anything when i came in!" you scoff, dabbing the paintbrush he'd given you into the paint upon the palette. while he painted moon jellies, flamulla, and blowfish on your skin, you'd busied yourself with painting seashells on his. some of the clamshells are too close together, the venus combs look a little too spiky, and some conches don't look quite right. when he looks like he's about to chuckle at the sight of them, you poke him with the other end of your brush; "hmph. you're just a meanie."

"how rude!" he feigns, hand to his heart. "this is how you treat me for making you look like one of my most precious paintings?"

— you notice, eventually, that RAFAYEL always gifts you red jewelry (if not pearls, of course). the little treasures glint in the sunlight; rings with a ruby or red spinel centerpiece, a necklace with a red coral pendant, fire opal earrings... they're beautiful and never gaudy, as to be expected from a man with an eye for aesthetics, but it still perplexes you.

you ask him why, while he helps you put on his most recently gifted necklace as you two get ready to attend his aunt's opera show. your painter answers with a thoughtful hum, deft fingers clasping the necklace for you: "red disappears the fastest in the deep sea, so i never got to see it much." rafayel presses a kiss to your cheek, then, before settling his chin on the crook of your neck. "what better way to appreciate a colour i missed out on for so long than seeing it on you, darling?"

— RAFAYEL'S smug and haughty countenance seems to crumble at the mere press of your lips against his skin, little pecks gracing each beauty mark. the first kiss is placed on his cheek, a little ways away from his eye, his head cradled in your palms; you feel how he heats up beneath your touch, a light blush dusting across his cheeks and a bright vermillion burning at the tips of his ears. the second is placed on his chest, your lips and gentle, roaming hands sparking the rapid thrumming of his heart.

— RAFAYEL sees you in everything. in the morning sunlight that filters into his kitchen, in the cherry blossoms that land on his hair, in the sea breeze that rushes past him as he walks along the shore. the mundane of daily life has become filled with so many traces of you that he cannot see them as anything other than beautiful. there's a piece of you in every one of his paintings now, a streak of your favourite colour intertwined with his reds and blues. he made the pigment himself, of course, extracted the colours he needed from your favourite things.

THE LOVERS ; Rafayel (20XX) ; Oil on canvas

This painting consists of only two colours, and depicts the view of a simple shoreline, with waves lapping at the shore. Although simple in essence, the two paints were handmade (as is the norm for pieces by Rafayel) with pigments extracted from materials that represented himself and his beloved. Upon closer inspection, one may notice the difference in brushstrokes between colours—where they start to blend, so do the strokes, perhaps one hand guiding the other. As per the words of the painter himself, this artwork is meant to represent a "marriage and a transfiguration; the way two souls are forever intertwined and changed by love."

a/n : pretty privilege is real because rafayel acts a lot like marius but i like him infinitely more than i do lu jinghe 😭👍 my love/obsession for this pretty little fish has made me rise from the grave of uni work and writer's block... please fill his tag i need to satisfy this itch in my brain that he gives me <\3 might write some more for him + him as abysswalker <3 (p.s. that final hc is perhaps the cutest thing i thought to do)

#love and deepspace headcanons #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #rafayel headcanons #qi yu headcanons #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel fluff #love and deepspace fluff

[oneatlatime]

The Awakening

Season 3 let's goooooooooo

These Fire Nation cells are absurdly spacious.

I do love that Momo's first reaction is kisses.

Not a cell. Oops.

Well that was confusing. I was arguing so vociferously that the SWT weren't pirates and then they go and gank a ship.

Mai girl get it! Questionable taste in men, but I love to see a lady getting exactly what she wants.

Mai: "how are you?" Zuko: *existential dread* Mai: "babe. Shut up."

Aang says he's the only one who's completely out of it, but Appa's behind him in full faceplant mode.

Actually, by the hair growth standard established by Zuko, Aang's been out 5 days at most.

Season 1 bitchy Katara is back again. I hate season 1 bitchy Katara.

I'm impressed by how much of these characters' identities is tied to their colour palettes. I see all these water tribe guys walking around in reds and blacks and I have no idea who I'm looking at.

Aang's eyes are back to brown this episode.

I love that Katara has no idea how she healed Aang. Superpowered does not mean superlearned. So much more believable than supergenius tweens.

It's the old ladies! They're wearing croissants on their heads. Why not.

This is a cool way to do exposition. A royal proclamation narrating a flashback.

These Dai Li don't know shit about loyalty huh.

SONG! HI SONG! I MISS YOU!

CORNY BABY & FAMILY! HI CORNY BABY & FAMILY! I DON'T MISS YOU! My guy why haven't you unpacked yet.

Given the welcome Zuko gets from the Fire Nation crowds, I'm thinking the exact cause/terms of his banishment were never made public? They're hyping him up like a wrestling entrance. That doesn't track with someone known to be honourless.

I want whatever's in Bato's bowl. Those noodles have him mesmerised. He's staring at them like they're telling him the secrets of the universe.

Are you telling me that Appa successfully landed on the deck of one of these ships without sinking it?

I love how Gaang's reaction to everything going wrong is to go find their dad.

STOP GOING ON ABOUT THE INVASION PLAN. IT WON'T WORK. STOP.

"Yep! The whole world thinks you're dead. Isn't that great!" Sokka. TACT.

Sometimes Sokka's brain gets too far ahead of itself.

Poor Aang. Not many people whose deaths are wrongly cause for celebration live long enough to see those celebrations.

How do the topknots fit inside the helmets?

This is silly beyond words. It's a two second throwaway gag but they're so into it.

Aang saying "I hate not being able to do anything" to the girl whose whole existence was not doing anything until recently is certainly a choice. And honestly, wasn't Season 1 Aang's whole point not wanting to be the Avatar? Actual responsible adults are handling the problems for once. He should be ecstatic.

I just realised this Fire Nation disguise ship plan means there are people in the Southern Water Tribe who know how to run coal powered ships. Neat.

One of the things I really love about Avatar is how much love they put into the side characters. This guy on the left is a nameless mook, but in the three to four lines of dialogue he gets, we see a world of political and bureaucratic headaches and a bunch of normal, humanising emotions (who hasn't been angry at that one coworker who can never be bothered to email?). The writers didn't have to give him that much personality, but they did!

Also, how often do Fire Nation ships get captured, if two pieces of bureaucracy not lining up causes this guy to jump to that conclusion, rather than think the bureaucracy messed up?

Someone in the Fire Nation has invented extra buoyant metal.

Turtleducks are scared of Azula. Turtleducks are good judges of character.

An awful lot of this episode is flashback footage.

Toph is a missile launcher. This is all I wanted out of life.

For the first time ever, Aang gets to play the role that Sokka plays in every bending heavy battle.

Since when can Katara do bending moves this big?

Sokka once again harnessing his ability to speak the opposite of what he wants into existence.

They said they passed through the serpent's pass a few days ago. Clever foreshadowing I completely missed.

Don't you love it when all your problems cancel each other out?

Aang. This is not the hill to die on. Also please don't throw tapestries around in a room with unguarded candles until you can firebend.

Wow Aang is just taking all the wrong lessons from this. And he's stealing Zuko's lines.

Turns out the Firelord is just some guy with an unfortunate goat beard.

Katara finally gets a chance to be her age, complete with nonsensical emotions and misdirected anger. I hate bitchy Katara but I love seeing her expressing the root of that bitchiness. And I love how illogical it all is, and that she acknowledges that! Emotions ARE illogical and messy!

Contrasting Hakoda winning Dad of the Year with Ozai setting off every alarm bell known to man is a choice. A really good choice. But wow. Not subtle.

I knew Azula always lied, but to her own dad/Firelord too? That's a dangerous move.

Aang. What are you doing. Stop.

Leave the door open. Peak sibling move.

In a turn of events that should surprise absolutely no one, Zuko's been played like a fiddle by his sister and is now as trapped as ever. The surprising part is that Azula thinks she can get away with lying to the Firelord too. Don't know how that's going to go for her long term.

So much for me saying the Avatar universe doesn't do ghosts. This season opener is surprisingly backwards-looking.

No offense to ghost Yue, but I think the saving the world she's referring to is the time she and a massive fishman saved the world, not strictly Aang.

How did they get past the blockade and find the right island?

I cringed at Katara's knee slide.

How are they standing on that island or breathing the air if it's hot enough to do that?

Final Thoughts

...what was that?

Seriously. This episode was a disorganised and aimless mess with the occasional gold mine of characterisation bobbing around. Did the writers not have a plan for what would happen after season 2 ended? This episode feels like the writers had as much plan as the characters did. If I was feeling charitable, I would say that this episode was a hot mess as a metanarrative commentary on Aang and the world's state, but I'm not feeling charitable. I think this episode was just a hot mess.

First, the good bits.

I liked that Sokka was very in character. We've seen before how he can run away with an idea to the point that he forgets to mind the human element. This episode's Sokka felt very much like Sokka. I liked that the beat up Sokka quota was replaced with 'Sokka dares the universe to play chicken and actually wins for once.' His optimistic characterisation this episode didn't grate like his inexplicable optimism did in Ba Sing Se, because here he has a reason to be happy. He's got his dad and a plan. Being around his dad and their people has done him good.

I like Toph the Ballista.

I like the noodle hypnosis.

I loved Katara's emotional blow up. It doesn't matter how noble or important the cause, leaving your kids for a cause is still leaving. I love that she points out how illogical her emotions are being. And I love that Hakoda creates a no-judgement-all-comfort-safe-to-rant zone for her. She's been waiting to do that for a while, and some of it came out at Zuko last episode, so it's been established that she's at boiling point. Fun fact: Katara has now had emotionally fraught venting sessions at Hakoda, Zuko, and Jet if you squint. I don't know what to make of the fact that the show has grouped these men into the same category of 'safe for Katara to vent to.'

I liked a couple of the throwaway gags, and the throwaway characters.

I liked the framing of Zuko's reintroduction to his father. Great use of angles and shadows. We've had two seasons of build up to this guy as the Biggest Bad, and the scene of Zuko kneeling in the throne room while Ozai paces around and delivers the world's most menacing praise felt big enough to be the crowning glory of that payoff. Especially contrasted to the loving father daughter reunion of equals it was interspersed with. But...

The bad bits.

Why did they immediately undermine two seasons of hype and all of the episode's menace by showing the Firelord as a gullible idiot who can't spot a bold-faced lie coming from a tween? I am legitimately pissed off that they defanged him as a threat so soon after introducing him. And I don't think showing that Azula can successfully lie to the Firelord builds up Azula as a threat - I think it also undermines her, because it's a stupid move. This episode could have introduced the biggest bad and reinforced the threat posed by last season's antagonist. Instead, it completely neutered the biggest bad and made Azula look like an idiot. I am actually mad about this.

Other stuff I didn't like: Aang's whole deal. Of course he was going to lose his mind and not be ok about what went down in Ba Sing Se. But he's never this dismissive of his friends, and a huge part of his early character is the fact that he would absolutely love it if some qualified adults stepped in and did the job he was unwillingly born into. Aang this episode felt self-centred and out of character.

Zuko's usually not this dim. I had figured out the angle Azula was going for by the end of the turtle duck pond conversation. Why can't he figure out for himself why Azula has redirected the potential blame if Aang is found to have survived?

The pacing felt off. The A plot flipped between action set pieces and emotional stuff. The B plot was purely talking. But the action set pieces felt out of place in an otherwise quiet episode. I get that you need something to interest the 8 year olds hyped up on sugar who only want explosions, but I think this episode would have been a lot better without the 'Aang almost drowns but gets a pep talk from a couple of ghosts who say exactly what everyone else has already said to him for two seasons but for some reason Aang listens this time and it works.' Why couldn't we have had a quiet episode?

Speaking of, why are Roku and Yue randomly popping up? Last time Aang talked to Roku, it took a trip into the Avatar state and the destruction of a very stupid general's whole army base. The ONLY person who's talked to Yue since she died is Sokka, and that took a magic swamp. I just don't get it. I don't get why they were there, why they said what they did, why those particular words in that particular order worked on Aang when no one else's words were getting through. I don't get why hiding out in the Fire Nation is the plan of choice over chilling with the Southern Water Tribe (other than because the plot says no responsible adults allowed).

The action piece with the Snekky Boy was fun. Even if what set it off was contrived (which it was), I think it was a fun watch and the only action the episode needed.

This episode was also so dark that I spent more time contemplating how much I really need to clean my screen than watching stuff happen.

I got so pissed off at this episode that I totally forgot about Mai. Go Mai! I am WEAK for romance arcs that boil down to 'Girl sees boy. Girl wants boy. Girl gets boy." Go Girl! Like I said above, questionable taste, but if it's what she wants, then congrats on getting it. I love Azula noticed and is like 'my resident goth appears to be broken.'

I have decided that Toph carved an underground harbour like the refugee station on Full Moon Bay and stashed all the water tribe ships in there, because those ships are too pretty to scuttle.

If I could surgically remove that scene between Katara and Hakoda and insert it into some other episode, I'd never watch this one again.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #The Awakening #unlike my s1 & s2 DVDs this one isn't bilingual #I can only conclude that the Fire Nation hate the French

[lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui]

Reiji - House of Chanel

Inherently, I think this went well especially with Chanel being such a traditional fashion house but also with its very feminine undertones. In comparison to some of the others, calling Chanel Reiji’s brand was more symbolic than realistic but I’ll explain.

Chanel in all its years since 1910’s has the same iconic look, the tweed structured suits, and the armoured corset dresses with delicate but impactful embellishments. It makes sense for Reji, he has this blunt yet sophisticated personality which physically manifests in his clothes; always well put together, tailored and steamed.

His suits may change but they maintain the same composition and colour palette, to the untrained eye they don’t look different but if you look closely he pays a lot of attention to what he wears.

He’s aware even as a vampire he still has the face of an 18 year old boy, there’s still that youthfulness present in his face, he makes up for it by wearing glasses he doesn’t really need but they highlight the aristocratic cutting of his face - with his sharp upturned nose, and bright red eyes.

He doesn't have his mother’s curls or his father’s pin straight hair but rather a wavy touch to his locks, he knows how it makes him look when it’s down, younger, softer …gentle and that’s just despicable! So he carefully styles his hair with mousse slicking it back, making him look more stern.

Reiji is also a lot more sensitive ( he’s a fussy, whiny little rich brat), so he can’t stand pungent smells ( blood, guts, drugs), that doesn’t mean he makes excuses to lose his composer so he has this strong cologne that is like sandalwood and kind of fruity? Like winter berries and tea leaves or something no one expected it to smell so good but he makes it work. Not to mention his hygiene is always top tier, so he has this freshly washed cotton and minty undertone. 

So that's his main style right? So I was in between Dior and Chanel - and Chanel won of course 

Mainly I mentioned before Chanel has more feminine undertones which I think expands well with Reiji’s complex relation with his brothers; whilst the misogynistic response to his trauma is still present he almost takes on a maternal role towards his family as much of the fandom has noticed - the reasons as why he does this is quite ironic actually. In his entirety, the persona of someone being capable is important for him, if he cannot be successful in maintaining - not only his family's name and reputation through the dictatorship of his brothers - how he holds himself in public how does he expect to be King?

Yet, all the care and attention to detail he gives is almost seen as motherly. The sheer unseriousness of it is not lost on me, even with all the rampant comments on the inferiority of women within the Sakamaki Home, the most well-adjusted and competent man is seen as feminine.

In other readings of Reiji though his feminine undertones are more purposeful, they come from the fact that him and Shu are perpendicular to one another because of Shu’s immense strength being seen as this "laid back protector archetype" as intrinsically masculine so Reiji’s more mentally vulnerable, cunning, shrewd approach is seen as more feminine ;dissect that how you will. My favourite though is Reiji picking up on etiquette by copying his mother who was a figurehead for women in the vampiric society.

Also reflected in Coco Chanel who is  like, not a nice woman but she did have her moments - a cause for much scandal was her pioneering for trousers and women's athletic wear believe it or not, she was a big equestrian ( is that not the most Reiji sport ever?) and encouraged women to wear equestrian kits. 

I think this also goes really well with his character in terms of politics, the synonymous nature of being a traditionalist yet paving the way is a part of Reji. He very strongly believes in the House of Sakamaki and what it stands for but he also like his father wishes to further vampiric society from it’s barbarism; in some ways he is a cultural snob but in others he’s quite attentive to the the silver lining that maintains modernism and the old ways.

The House of Channel also does this; it has always had its roots cemented in the old ways of aristocratic luxury items, but unlike many other fashion houses it does try to adapt to the changing times sometimes successfully, others not so successfully.

On a less serious note, in general I think it suits his aesthetic as well; as I’ve mentioned the iconic Chanel suits, but also the Corsets? Like Reiji is a big corset man I don’t care what anyone says, the timeless figure of archive Chanel pieces, the monotone colour scheme of darker colours. Moreover, even the chic pieces take inspiration from old money outfits: the arranged tulle of the Victorian era, the heavy contrast, the heavy gold pieces and brooches.

In comparison to Reiji’s fashion, with his fitted suits and tiny waist with the chain of his watch fob, as well as heavy contrast colours: blacks, reds, whites and navy’s. 

Also the chunky jewellery makes sense in my head, it’s like masterfully placed so it doesn’t overwhelm him but I think the jewellery Reiji has includes: obviously the different chains for his antique watch, but also chunky rings seem more his thing than thin ones especially ones with carefully placed family jewels (rubies, emerald's, obsidians - as I said: snob) , this would do for more traditional attire too. 

His outfits in the demon world definitely include brooches, and chains and pendants to embellish his outfit, eye makeup isn’t a big thing for him because it’s so fussy but he would definitely do darker eye makeup to bring out his eyes. He’s quite theatrical, and definitely plays into the ashy white vampire skin ( this is the skin of a killer Bella).

Overall, I refuse to believe he does casual clothing- like Reiji in sweats ( esp the juicy couture ones ) is a horrendous image. So yeah Reiji is a Chanel girl!

Also I can’t believe I completely forgot this but in the beginning Coco Chanel was overlooked by the media, in terms of her designs in the beginning of career because of a little brand called Polo…owned by Ralph Lauren that was also making athletic wear but also quite good friends with Coco Chanel 

It’s almost like A certain someone who I said represented Ralph Lauren (Shu) overshadowing Chanel at first before she split off to make her own name.

#Spotify #dl #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers #diaboys #diahell #yui komori #sakamaki brothers #the boys as brands #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #dl moodboards #diabolik lovers moodboards #if anyone mentions typos i'll leave on a hiatus twice as long #or the semi colons #my life has spiraled #so like any good artist my artistic juices came back as i despair

[ell-arts]

Dragons of Black, Gold, and Crimson

Remember that poll I put out some time ago of whether or not I should draw a map of the Netherworld or draw the main trio as dragons?

Well :)

I'm putting the (apparently-very-difficult-to-make) map on the backburner and dove into this piece. It's been sitting around unfinished for too long and I finally got around to it.

I've wanted to draw the Pac trio as dragons for a while now, so this was quite fun! Some of the details in their designs might get tweaked, but overall very happy with how this turned out. I decided to give them their own dragon-sounding names too, each starting with the same letter that their original names started with.

So, meet Cevaali, Pavalon, and Soverik. Check below for individual close-ups and design info!

Pac - Right off the bat I knew he was going to be a golden dragon. I wanted his horns to look extravagant but also fit with the golden theme, so I tried to make his horns kinda resemble fire. The final touch was making the horn/crest on his nose form the Pacman symbol, cuz why not :D

Spiral - He was the most difficult one to design, because I knew I wanted to give him spiraling/curly horns, but had a hard time making them look right. That, and blue and red are QUITE tricky to work with as a colour palette - they are naturally opposite colours, so certain hues can clash weirdly. Out of all the designs, Spiral's is the most likely one to get tweaked. But I am keeping the little "beard" spikes on his chin >:D

Cyli - I wanted something a bit different and overtly gothic for her design, something a bit more mysterious and spooky. So I made her all-black with just a few pink accents, BUT I also liked the idea of modeling her head to look skull-like. So, Dragon Cyli does not have any eyes or nostrils, just a blip of burning light in her eye sockets that acts as pupils. She can still see and smell clearly though because ✨dragon magic✨

All three of their dragon names don't mean anything in particular, I just came up with ones that sound draconic enough :) Here's how to pronounce them: Cevaali (Suh-vaa-lee), Pavalon (Path-a-lon), Soverik (Sov-er-rick, first five letters rhyme with sovereign).

#pmatga #pacman and the ghostly adventures #pacster #cylindria #spiral #pmatga fanart #my art #pmatga dragons #I plan on doing dragon versions of other characters too #Pavalon #Cevaali #Soverik

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

not a hc but can you rank lucy's stardresses?

A fit rank huh? Sure I can do that. Just gonna preface n say that obviously this is my opinion and whatevs and that I won't be includin any of the ones introduced in 100yr because I don't care about the sequel :]

Alrightie lets get into it! This gonna get long tho, so imma put it under read more so I don't murder ppl who are scrolling.

Aquarius Stardress

This one honestly might be on the lower tiers for me. Like for the first stardress shown its rather, boring. The colour choice of green and yellow is weird, and visually disconnects it from Aquarius (like seriously? No blue anywhere?). The wrap skirt is cute and I do love how she has Aquarius' collarbone tattoo. That's fire. But the basic bikini top is meh. Overall its serviceable, 6/10 on the Phoenix scale.

Leo Stardress

Honestly can't go wrong with a nice black dress. I really would've preferred a pants suit for this one but the dress regardless is fun. I has a nice shape with the asymmetrical skirt and I like the ruffles all over. I also like how the anime gave her stockings

If I had nitpicks i'd say to get rid of the center line down the middle of the chest, the two under the bust are enough and get rid of the purple hair clip, it feels tacked on and just tosses in a random colour to the palette. I'd also maybe change the yellow to something more orange so it pops more (maybe even make the interior of the dress something eyecatching to add some extra oomph visually when she's kicking.)

But good fit, 8/10

Virgo Stardress

Well, it's about what you'd expect tbh. It's a maid outfit lol. There ain't much here to say cept that its cute. 6/10

Tauros Stardress

Oh hell fuckin yea. HELL YEAH

Unabashedly this one is one of my favourites solely because of the uneven pants. It's so fun and stupid. I also like how she and Tauros have matching belt buckles.

The basic ass bikini top does bring it down though (sorry i'm a bikini top hater. If you're gonna put a character in a bikini top at least make it a different style! There's different types of tops that can be both sexy and interesting!!!!). It also looks wack at certain angles.

My chest hurts lookin at this.

Apart from that I don't think the double buns works best with this dress, I think it'd work better if swapped with the double braids of the capricorn dress. Also I just think it'd be cool if this dress gave her an axe, like how the cancer dress gave her weapons.

but because of how much joy the stupid pants give me, 9/10.

Sagittarius Stardress

Another banger stardress despite a glaringly obvious issue.

This shit's great to me. Good colours, fun patterns, i fuckin love that its backless and the high ponytail is great here. The issue?

That deep ass coochie cut.

On god it just looks so uncomfortable. The anime tried to even it out by giving her tights but that just tossed in another colour to the palette and just unbalances it. A simple fix would've been just to make it white leggings under there. Skin tight, sexy and still practical. Apart from the coochie cut the only nitpick I have is that I think the boob window should've been star shaped and i wish her sleeves also doubled as archery gloves.

Apart from that and how much the coochie cut haunts me, its a 9/10

Aires Stardress

Now I have no idea why, but I was never exactly big on this one. Like it's not awful, all the stardresses have a baseline cuteness to them. The alternating pink and white tiers on the dress is nice, but the cut under the bust kinda kills the uniform pattern it had goin on. Likewise the leggings don't feel coherent to the rest of the fit. Like still cute, but the stripes and the introduction of black makes the whole thing feel busy and plain all at once. Though ironically when it's in the manga and purely black and white i think it looks better.

But I dunno, i think this one actually might be my least favourite. 4/10

Gemini Stardress

Ok. I like the alternating blue and white all over. That's cool. But, that headdress on top of the already busy outfit feels like its a lil too much on top. Also the random gold baubles on the outfit itself feels sorta thrown on. The belt can stay I suppose but nix the tassels near the collar and trade in the boob window for a deeper neckline.

We can just get rid of the headdress altogether and change her hairstyle to like, crown braid with a hanging blue and white ribbon on either side to keep with the alternating colours and we golden. 5/10

Scorpio Stardress

Gonna start this off to say, not a big fan of the bottom (the leather panty thing with the chain on it? Dawg idk i don't like it lol). and the chain on it looks so silly and not in a fun way. If anything I think she should have a bigger tail, not as big as scorpio's but defs something bigger that what she has currently. And as much as I like backless fits I don't think it works here, the deep cut boob window can stay though. I do like the headband and how her hair frames her face but overall its another 5/10.

Also here's a scorpio stardress redesign that I like. Doesn't fix all my issues with the og but it's still pretty dope.

Cancer Stardress

I like this because it looks cool and gives Lucy weapons. I don't like it because it doesn't connect well with Cancer the spirit visually. But Cancer's design sucks and I like this better than Cancer himself. Truly a design with conundrums for me. 6/10

Capricorn Stardress

I don't like this dress! Not one bit! Why is it a bdsm tit dress! The hair is cute and I like the shades and the horn clips with the bows but the dress!!!!!!!! Why is it so visually disconnected from Capricorn the spirit! Why isn't it a skirt suit with sexy fishnet leggings like in the concept art!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why isn't this the canon design!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tragic/10

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #hi :]

[itsnotmourn]

CONCEPTS AND RAMBLINGS | "animal" cult pmv extras

thank you everyone for liking my pmv (and on yt and twitter) !! i got more attention than i thought it would and that means the world to me! <33

here’s some of my concept art + rambles for it!

the first thing i made up, the character designs!

i didn’t think to refine them because they were good enough to use LMAO... so i scribbled colours down, threw a filter and called it a night

i wanted a sharp change from the verses and chorus (since the song goes from calm to... louder) so i made it greyscale (with a red filter) that changed to brighter colours!

also changed the text font/colour for ignacio hmm. the font was hard to read, in my opinion.

ignacio's design

ignacio loses his bandage colours because that was too many colours for my liking… i completely forgot his hair highlights tho

ah and he doesn’t get a mouth until the fire scene too…

it was only meant to be done for a few frames but i thought it be cooler if it was consistent.

the missing mouth represents his repressed feelings/silence, or something like that.

skidad's design

i got a few questions on whether skidad was a goat. despite looks, skidad’s design is actually based on the herbiadean/jacob sheep! four horns!

i have drawn skidad as a jacob sheep before as well!

look at them ominous friends.

the resemblance to goats is something i considered as well (links with cult/sacrifice) so i think of it as a fun bonus

i gave him wolf teeth because the whole “wolf in sheep’s clothing” but also because i like it when prey animals are given predator features

i left the body as "human" because i only wanted the face to be censored… i considered clawed/darkened hands too but nah

skidad was originally going to be lined like ignacio, but i liked the lineless look for him so voila! makes it feel like he’s “not bound by anything”... actually, this is the same reasoning for the match to be “out” of the border, even though it’s ignacio’s hand

storyboards

i rarely storyboard (most are locked in my mind) but i figured it'd be fun to try!

halfway, i got bored of drawing digitally so i moved onto my notebook. i think it was a good decision; since i drew with my ink pen, it forced me to move on with my mistakes instead of clicking "clear canvas" lol

i had a pretty solid idea of what i wanted after weeks of listening to the song over and over again. the only thing that really changed was the mirror, which was replaced with a shadowy ignacio

the coloured thumbnails i actually did first, just to figure out out what i’m doing for the chorus part… limited palette my beloved

i didn't know where to put the text so i was scribbling everywhere lol

ratio changes

in the chorus, the ratio of ignacio and skidad’s frames changes! it’s more obvious if i combined them together, like this

less for ignacio, more for skidad

did you notice that the fire in this shot look like the cult ?!!! why did i do that, you ask? well:

the fire is the same “red”as the robe

too lazy to draw fire without abusing motion blur

mmm symbolism idk. it's somewhere there

it wasn’t in my plans but i’m happy i made the choice in the last minute. this was the last thing i needed to finish before syncing it up with the music

also this… i just wanted to point it out… make sure everyone knows... did you notice this? did you? did you did you? well now you do!!!

that's it !!! that's your trip into my mind!! okay byeeeee !!

#even though i gave my own reasons; i welcome any other interpretations! #/gen !! i'm very interested to hear! throw an ask or in the reblogs! #[ mourn's mourns ] #[ mourning pmvs ] #[ the art of mourning ] #spooky month ignacio #spooky month skidad #not apologising for the absolute chaos of my writing... its rambling for a reason........ /J LOL #i won't be free from skidad videos ough #but now im starting university so i guess they won't be out anytime soon HAHAHA #hope you enjoy reading this!

[wisteria-winter]

I'm very curious about the Von Eldritch family

We can see some pictures of them in the background of Lucifer’s room, so it’s not like they don’t exist in the current series. In addition we also see pictures of them in the pilot and from what we can gather, they get along well with the Morningstar family or at least did.

From what’s known Charlie broke up with the brother and has a pretty hostile relationship with the sister. Though that’s practically all we know.

So, who are they and where did they come from?

From my knowledge they aren’t royalty, meaning they shouldn't be related to one of the seven sins. They also can’t be ordinary sinners, for 1. Lucifer wouldn’t associated with them and 2. They wouldn’t be able to have children.

Theme wise they are mostly green with a grey colour palette and seem to have hair reminiscent of octopus tendrils. Which doesn’t feel too odd as they seem to be inspired by eldritch horror, possibility Cthulhu.

Still though, how do they exist? Are they similar to the lineage of Stolas? Do they have any relation to that linage?

From what we’ve seen any hellborn in high power has some sort of role, like Stolas is supposed to read the stars and such. Plus it feels odd that Lucifer would be friends with just some random family that doesn’t have any significant role. As in, why would Lucifer want to associate with them? Or at least, associated with the father, Lucifer does have a happy picture of the two in his room, so it’s most likely a pretty close friendship. Probably pretty long too.

So, what is the role of the Von Eldritch family?

Are they just the embodiment of horror or something?

Are they in a part related to the cosmic evil that existed before hell was created?

Also, in other news, isn’t it odd that Alastor’s magic seems green?

We haven’t really seen characters with a lot of green. There is Zestial, though his green is more lime yellow, not exactly the green we are looking for. Though it is interesting that the oldest overlord has a colour pallet with green and not an excess amount of red.

In addition, I did find something fun, the fires of hell seem to be mostly green and do you know what burns green? Copper.

And do you know what copper represents? From the Wikipedia page of Copper: “In alchemy the symbol for copper was also the symbol for the goddess and planet Venus.”

And the fun fact of Venus is that it’s sometimes referred to as the “morning star”

I know it most likely doesn’t mean anything, but I thought it fun. Kinda like the fires of hell are representative of the Morningstar family. Like normal(red) flames don’t seem to hurt, at least it doesn’t hurt hellborns, but a flame infused with the power of the morning star is sure to leave a scar.

Oh! And as an ending note, the mothers seem to have a very similar hair style, maybe they also get along well?

#hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel #hazbin lilith #hazbin theory #Von Eldritch #Helsa von Eldritch #Serviathan von Eldritch #Frederick von Eldritch #Bethesda von Eldritch #hazbin alastor #alastor #One does wonder where his powers come from

[ilikepjo24]

There's a post going around Tumblr about the color palette of your name (I saw @prodogg do it) and I tried it but my name has a very boring color palette so I did Atla characters instead.

Aang:

Okay! All of them are very bright colors that represent Aang's bright attitude and there's a dark shade at the top row which brings to mind the flaws of his character. Personally, I feel like that dark brown represents the guilt Aang feels for leaving. We also have some yellow and soft red, which are the colours of his outfit. There's some light grey that reminds me of his eyes and pretty light blue and beige, breezy light his element. We have some blue, some yellow, some green and some red. True Avatar core right there.

Katara:

Ohhh~ So many pretty blues! Blue eyes, blue clothes, blue nation, blue element and so on. Once again, I feel like the dark color in the third row represents the more bitter parts of Katara personality. Her small moments of jealousy, spite and harness. I also like how all the blues are different shades, some coming close to grey, others close to green and some being pure blue. The variety of shades really shows what I well rounded character she is.

Sokka:

Oh my... That's unexpected... There's only one shade of blue! But I can see some pretty browns and greys in there that are in his colour palette. I wonder why there are so many greens... Probably because he's one of the only characters that are grounded to earth 😂 maybe even a bit too much, seeing how he's always suspicious and doubtful. There are also some snow-like colours in here, which is fitting, seeing as he's from the Water Tribe 😎.

Suki:

That's a very interesting palette... The brown colours remind me of the Earth Kingdom, but there's a snowy white in there, probably because of how close Kyoshi Island is to the Southern Water Tribe. There's also a bit of green in there, even if it's greyish, and I couldn't help but notice those dark shades of red... Is it because she relocated in the Fire Nation after the war, and is currently working as Zuko's bodyguard? I also see a few really dark shades in those top corners, although I'm not surprised. Suki is a warrior through and through, and sometimes warriors have to do some ugly things to protect their homes.

Toph:

No surprises here! I like how Toph has more dark shades than other characters, since she's more in touch with her "dark side" after participating in secret wrestling matches and pulling all those scams. Many shades of green and brown, like her element and her country. But there's also some very light greens in there, so light that they could pass as white or grey, which is unlike the usual Earth Kingdom greens. I wonder if it's because she uses her bending in a much different way that all the other earthbenders, which makes her special. Or it could be because that's the color of her eyes.

Zuko:

That palette is an interesting one for sure. There are so many dark colours in here! And as we all know, the Prince of the Fire Nation didn't have a very happy life, or a very bright attitude. There's a dark brown-red in here and a dark blackish green, along with some blues and greys and a brownish gold. I wonder if it's because of his travels to all the four nations during his search for the Avatar. And I'm loving the references to the Blue Spirit with all those blues in there. Zuko's second, secret persona is a big deal for his character, since all the times we've seen him wear that mask, we've also gotten hints for his future redemption and friendships.

Azula:

Ah, there we go. My favorite girl! Right of the top we have some dark shades, fitting for s true vigilante. There's some brown-ish gold abd black, which brings her hair and eyes to mind. A pretty shade of red, for a true Fire Nation Princess. The lack of blue surprises me, seeing as her fire and her lighting are both blue... I guess the website must believe that she is much more than her bending. And there's quite a lot of green I see... Probably because her peak as a strategist and warrior was conquering Ba Sing Se and bringing the Earth Kingdom to its knees, all while wearing the iconic green Kyoshi Warrior uniform and the even more iconic green Earth Queen outfit.

#atla #character analysis #colors #aang #katara #sokka #suki #toph #zuko #azula

[kataraslove]

What the fuck is bro going on about??? Especially the Kya and Izumi like huh??

I won’t comment on the two hour dissertation because I haven’t watched it yet. from what I’ve heard on those that have, half of it is proving why the canon ships are poorly written, while the other half of it is proving why zuko and katara would be the better endgame option.

i will comment on the fact that it would be very easy to create an even longer dissertation on why people ship kataang and why it makes complete sense as the canon ship of avatar, without so much as even bringing zutara in the mix. if i ever get the time to do so, i could look into creating it. because i think there should be more discussion in fandom on the depths of katara and aang’s arcs and relationship. if anyone is interested in helping, please let me know :)

“aesthetic coordination and color synergy is the most important part of any relationship.” i do hope this person is speaking solely in terms of fiction. because how aesthetic two people look beside each other should not be the basis for any healthy, long-lasting relationship, at least not in real life. reality continues to show that two people can look incredibly good beside each other, but can be extremely incompatible.

example: celebrities coordinate their red carpet looks to present as a power couple each year. but in actuality, their relationship deteriorates by the second. in a couple of years, that relationship will no longer cease to exist.

i searched up aesthetic coordination and i couldn’t find a single resource on it. but on the topic of colour synergy, here are the colours that are established as complementaries to one another:

so you mean to tell me that red and blue aren’t complementary colours, but instead red is complementary with green, and blue is complementary with orange/yellow?

interesting. now which couple do we know of that wears orange/yellow and purple/blue in avatar?

oh. that explains why katara and aang’s colour palettes go so well together, and why their scenes (in both the show and the comics) and accompanying fanart are always so visually pleasant.

in regards to oma and shu, they are colour-coded as zuko and katara, just like they are also colour-coded as katara and aang. if we are meant to take the colours seriously, that would imply that oma (the girl) is zuko, and shu (the boy) is katara. if the writers truly wanted zuko and katara to represent omashu, i see absolutely no reason as to why oma couldn’t be depicted in blue and shu couldn’t be depicted in red.

we have confirmation by the writer of the cave of two lovers that the legend of omashu is based off of romeo and juliet. we also have confirmation from the same writer (who also advocated for zutara as the endgame ship, by the way) that the legend of omashu was written to push katara and aang’s love story after direction from mike dimartino and aaron ehasz. the first draft of the story proposed by the writer joshua hamilton was just going to be sokka and a bunch of the nomads. we also have confirmation that avatar’s love (katara and aang’s theme) played while katara was recounting the story of oma and shu.

i truly believe that if oma and shu were meant to be about zuko and katara, joshua hamilton would have no problem stating that it was. instead, he confirms that it was meant to be written with katara and aang in mind, as a part of katara and aang’s love story.

also, zuko and katara aren’t forbidden lovers. they started off as enemies, with the fire nation committing ethnic and cultural genocide against the southern water tribe. the fire nation and the southern water tribe aren’t two fighting sides of an equal battle - it’s one larger nation with all the militaristic power in the world committing colonialism and imperialism on another nation.

katara and aang could not canonically be together because of the war. that is what katara states herself. as soon as the war is over, they are free to pursue a relationship with one another. that aligns itself more with omashu’s story than zuko and katara’s arc from enemies to friends does.

katara being a phenomenal firelady is not canon, just this person’s headcanon. firelady holds no political power in canon. it’s just wife to the firelord. kya and izumi are clearly not twins, but i suspect this is part of the “katara secretly cheated on aang with zuko” set of headcanons.

lastly, zuko is the father that stepped up? yeah, okay. let’s assume that aang is this horrible, awful dad that people make him out to be. that would mean that zuko was complicit in allowing his best friend to traumatize his children for life. kya and bumi hold no relationship with zuko whatsoever. but sure, he’s definitely the father that stepped up.

finally, father and secret lover of the year zuko did next to nothing in ensuring katara canonically received her worth and recognition among the world, even after her actual husband’s passing. isn’t zuko also co-founder of republic city? so where is katara’s statue?

what you have sent me is someone speaking an entire different language, about an entire different character that they created. but headcanons are not canon, no matter how much this person wants them to be.

[jadelotusflower]

Lois Lane Costume Appreciation (Smallville seasons 4-5)

So in my recent* Smallville rewatch I had a whole new appreciation for the costuming, and in particular, my girl Lois and her colour story/clothing complementing Clark’s in different ways. We often see Lois and Clark wearing somewhat similar clothes - usually both in jeans, t-shirt, and jacket combo in either red or blue, with Clark in one colour while Lois is in the other. But I was particularly intrigued by yellow as the third element of the Superman triad, and while we don’t see Lois wear yellow as much as she does red and blue (or pink and white in the latter seasons) but it seems she is associated with yellow at pivotal moments in her character arc and relationship with Clark.

Standard caveat that I think a lot of this was intentional, but some things are probably me just reading into things and choosing to find meaning in in the visual storytelling. Additional caveat that red-yellow-blue was the standard colour palette of the show and the mise-en-scene relied heavily on this - particularly in the early to mid seasons - so it's certainly not exclusive to Lois and some examples may be coincidence.

But let’s talk yellow! (Expanding on this post)

Yellow is Earth’s sun Sol (in contrast to Krypton’s red sun Rao), the source of Clark’s abilities. It’s the heart of the Superman shield:

It’s the colour associated with the Crystal of Fire, one of the three components that make up the crystal that builds the Fortress of Solitude and houses the knowledge of the 28 known galaxies. The Crystal of Water (transference/transformation) is blue, and the Crystal of Air (symbol of the House of El) is red:

Fire is light and warmth; it can purify and cleanse. The crystal of fire had healing abilities, it's what restored Clark's powers in 4x08 Spell, and throughout the series, when Clark is injured and then healed by the sun, it's often accompanied by a yellow light.

The Crystal of Fire was also found in 4x01 Crusade where Lois first appears: as Lex unearths the crystal in Egypt, Lois comes across Clark (in the form of Kal-El) in a cornfield. (In what is likely a coincidence, Lois will return to Egypt in 10x01, and it's there she makes the decision to commit to Clark in 10x02, and she is possessed by the Egyptian goddess Isis in 10x05).

Yellow the colour of the Kent farmhouse, Clark’s home, as well as the kitchen (hearth) of the house. It's the flowers in the front yard that also draw their life from Earth's yellow sun (the barn is red, the sky is blue).

So basically yellow = healing/home = Clark's heart = Lois.

This kicks off in 4x02 Gone, where Lois wears Clark's red and plaid shirt, the first of several times Lois will wear his clothes over the course of the series. Clark is in a blue check, and it's notable that we first see them collectively in Superman colours for the first time when they are both together in the Kent house (in the yellow kitchen).

In 4x03 Facade Clark wears the same shirt that Lois borrowed, and Lois has a yellow top under her jacket (also note the blue blanket in the background of the barn).

We then see the same (or a similar) top without the jacket in 4x04, Devoted, where Clark and Lois banter and engage in some prolonged eye fucking eye contact. In this scene the primary colours are right there bright and bold, leaving no doubt that we've just been introduced to the Superman endgame.

Now, there may be an in-universe reason why Lois is wearing yellow here - it follows a football game, and yellow is one of the colours of Smallville High. However, Lois isn't exactly the school spirit type and she was wearing this top in the previous episode, so there's no doubt in my mind this was intentionally symbolic.

This is the final episode of Lois’s introductory arc, the end of the beginning, and a glimpse of the future.

We don't see Lois again for a while (and she spends most of 4x08 possessed by a witch). The next one might not count, but her cute breakfast themed pjs in 4x13 Recruit include red yellow and blue (and pink, a colour that becomes more symbolic for Lois in the latter seasons):

Sidebar, but Lois and her parade of themed pajamas delights me so much!

This is also the episode of an iconic save, where Clark goes all WHERE IS SHE on the freak of the week, and rescues Lois from drowning.

In 4x16 Lucy we don't get yellow in the costuming, but at the end of the episode Lois and Clark grow closer, acknowledging that they're now friends, accompanied by some more prolonged eye contact. Clark then looks through his telescope a a yellow shooting star passing between a red star and blue star (to the background of Mark Joseph's Fly ("written in the wind...now it all begins..."), intersecting with a meteor in an explosion of light, much like Lois has barrelled into Clark's life, setting him on a new course towards his destiny.

This show, honestly!

Next is 4x21 Forever, where Lois has found some sleeves for her job at the Talon (which is heavy on the yellow/Egyptian decor), and Clark of course is in red and blue:

Clark's shirt is not the same one that Lois wears earlier in the season, but Lois does wear this shirt later in the series, so she certainly has a thing for Clark's red and yellow plaid!

As Lois and Clark investigate Chloe and Lana's disappearance, she puts on an orange jacket (orange is another interesting Lois colour - a mix of red and yellow that pops up at interesting points in their relationship).

It's telling that Lois very rarely wears prints - she's into bold, block colours, and other than plaid, so is Clark - they often wear complementary costumes, and/or are mirror images (or close to it) of each other, both in the colour and style of their clothes.

I'm not saying this is soulmate behaviour, but this is absolutely soulmate behaviour!

We don't see Lois in yellow again until season five.

Now I know there was a lot of criticism levied at the show for Lois's relationships with A.C. and then Oliver, but honestly I don't really mind - let Lois be a slut in charge of her sexuality! There is no shame here for a girl who attracts would-be superheros, and goes after what she wants. GTFO with "Lois goes through the Justice League" misogynistic line of thinking.

In 10x09 Mera alleges Lois is attracted to power, but I think it's more she's drawn to strength of character, as well as people who challenge her - characteristics Clark shares, and where Lois doesn't quite fit with A.C. and Oliver, she will fit with Clark. What's interesting is that yellow pops up here, but in ways that aren't quite in sync.

In 5x04 Aqua we have Lois in a red swimsuit and Clark in blue shorts, and she is lain a yellow towel when she is saved by AC.

Then as A.C. and Lois get closer, she wears a blue and yellow suit (so collectively, she owns swimming outfits in Superman colours) and then a blue t-shirt but pink shorts. AC also wears orange and green (Aquaman colours), so while we have the yellow and blue, we also have pink and orange which are on the same spectrum but not red - close but things aren't quite right.

Other than the straps on Lois's suit, yellow is also present in the scene with the flowers, and the stripes on the cup (the Kent family mugs are often yellow as well!). Clark is present in the scene long before he walks in on Lois and A.C. kissing - kicking off a pattern where Clark is suspicious/annoyed by the men Lois dates.

At the end of the episode we get Clark in red, Lois inbBlue, and the helpful yellow of the barn props, as Lois wonders how she's ever going to meet a guy that wants to save the world, not own it, and Clark assures her one day she'll meet someone even more special than A.C. The anvils, they be dropping!

This one may be a stretch, but Lois is wearing a light yellow top in the early scenes of 5x06 Exposed aka the episode where Lois poses as a stripper and gives Clark a lapdance, but perhaps more importantly where Lois flexes her investigative skills, first by boldly challenging Detective Sawyer, and then helping Chloe track down a serial killer. We often see Lois in yellow when she's making steps towards her journalistic career.

Next up we have 5x08 Solitude, where Lois is working at the Talon, and we get a very direct Superman costume reference with Lois's top and apron with the Talon logo in yellow where the Superman crest would be.

That Lex is really amused by Lois is delightful to me! I wish that they'd let them share more screentime!

She decides to take down Lex in this episode, and in doing so ultimately helps Chloe uncover Milton Fine's true motives - arguably without Lois she never would have been able to save Clark in the Fortress and Martha would also have died. It also sets up the future Lois and Lex dynamic and her quest to expose his criminal behaviour.

So shame on anyone who says Lois doesn't serve a purpose in these seasons or that she's "not iconic Lois yet". She's not meant to be! She's on a journey, just like Clark is.

There's also this jacket in 5x10 Fanatic and I can't decide if it's a very light yellow or not, but this is when Lois becomes Jonathan's campaign manager, integrating even further into the Kent family. While I don't agree that Clark and Lois had a "sibling dynamic" in these seasons (I'm sorry, siblings don't stare at each other like they do!), Lois was in many ways a surrogate daughter to Jonathan and Martha - they immediately took Lois under their wing, believed in her, championed her, and she in return was ride-or-die for the Kent family.

In 5x20 Fade we continue the pattern of Lois in yellow when there's a romantic interest for her that Clark takes issue with, although in this case he's right as the guy is a hitman. Clark wears a light blue shirt, while Lois is in a red dress with yellow/gold straps - the lighting is also extremely unsubtle:

Incidentally, this is also the episode where Clark accidentally sees Lois naked.

Later in the episode Lois also wears a yellow top and blue jacket, and in a deleted scene it's actually Martha who picks this outfit for her after Lois says "if you ask me, [Clark] needs to finish the chapter on Lana, turn the page, start dating again." It's a very sweet scene, and the future mother-in-law vibes are strong as Martha says, "If I'd had a daughter, I'd want her to be just like you."

Also important to note that Martha is wearing red in this scene, and there is a later scene that was not cut, in which Martha tells Lois rather anviliously "maybe you have to get through all the wrong men, so you can recognise the right one."

Martha choosing yellow for Lois, as if unconsciously knowing what it means, it actually something that it so personal. Also, the face of a woman who knows her worth.

Speaking of anvils, there dropping all over in 5x21 Oracle, where Lois wears yet another yellow top for Clark's birthday, and made him a red and blue cake with yellow candles - and we see later in the episode that the inside of the cake is yellow as well.

Lois also gives Clark a red and blue journal with his initials in gold, wrapped in paper that's red on one side and yellow on the other, with red yellow and blue ribbons. It's actually an adorable gift, and it's a shame there was never see Clark writing in it.

Now, how many yellow tops does Lois own? I actually think this one is the same as in 4x21, so with the one above and the tank top that's at least three (plus the bikini), which is not an insignificant number!

But wait, I spoke too soon, because Lois is wearing another yellow top when she and Lana walk in on Clark rifling though the dorm room later in the episode - there's a different neckline/bodice to any of the previous tops, but I wonder if this is a continuity error because when Lois confronts Clark in the loft later on it once again looks like the top from the opening scene.

Or maybe not? Her hair is obviously different, but I'm not even sure it's the same jacket? The lapels don't look quite the same either, maybe it's not even meant to be the same day.

Lois just chose extremely similar outfits I guess!

The scene in the loft is the infamous "piggybank" conversation, where Clark says, "There are times when I think you don't know me at all, then others when I think you know me better than anyone."

I mean? I MEAN?!?!?!?!

Clark is also holding the journal Lois gave him, which is a nice touch. This is ripe for fanfic potential (if it's already been done, drop a link!).

That's it for the first two seasons of Lois, stay tuned for part 2!

*Recent when I first started putting this post together several years ago, it's been sitting in drafts for an embarrassingly long time. In fact, such a long time, I've completed another Smallville rewatch since then (hence the impetus to finally finish and post this).

#smallville #superman #lois lane #clark kent #clark x lois #clois #costume appreciation #yellow #meta #lois lane costume appreciation #long post #resurrecting this from drafts #2023 will be the year of finishing all that is unfinished #jlf posts

[demigod-of-the-agni]

I'm indulging you. Tell me about one character you hate and what you would do to change them into something better.

the flood gates have OPENED

the winner of worst character ever is Jun Wong

Most people on this round rock don't know her, or flat out refuse to get to know her, but that's okay. It gives me more reason to really tear into why Jun Wong as a character, as vehicle for a narrative's ideals, sucks.

Simplest terms: She's from the HTTYD spin-off show Dragons: The Nine Realms, is one of the main characters and is the main love interest of the protagonist. The thing is, she is terrible at everything she does. She infuriates me. It's like she is personally setting me on fire and throwing me into an abyss of hate. I just can't /stand/ this girl (read on to find out why).

It's not so much that I Hate her, it's just that she has so much potential but is casually written off as the "love interest" or the "quirky girl" with no defining traits aside from physical ones (like- okay, purple eyes? She's not even wearing contacts, it's clearly genetic because her brother also has purple eyes, and...East Asians don't typically have purple eyes?? it just looks unnatural on her, but I digress)

Back to the "casually written off" point - the studio themselves, Dreamworks, doesn't care for Jun or her character or her arcs. They don't care for her attributes or what she contributes to the entirety of Nine Realms series, aside from being a cheap Astrid Hofferson knock-off.

It's also ESPECIALLY clear that the show does not delve into her heritage very well, or when they do it's all very standard stuff (if not heavily based on racial stereotypes): "intergenerational trauma!" "tiger parenting!" "wanting to do her own thing!" I appreciate the idea, it's just that the execution of it is god-awful and terrible. The Jun-centric episodes that focus on these issues have little to no impact on her character. They're quite literally one-and-done episodes. They're not even filler episodes - if you take all her episodes out, nothing in the plot would have changed, nothing in her character progression would have changed. She still whines and complains and is still the same person she was when she was first introduced.

Fortunately for us, Jun is not a lost cause. Her character can be salvaged and be made so much better!

What I think should be done in order to improve Jun's character is to first change her character design. Let me tell you: seeing her final design in the show when the very first trailer came out made me feel weird (purple eyes bruv). But seeing her initial designs made me want to bawl my eyes out.

(IDs are in each image)

Literally look at her design. She looks so cool here. She honestly looks so much more nicer to look at than what we get in the show (doesn't help that the animation is so stilted). These designs have so much PERSONALITY in them whereas Jun's design in the show is... uh........

bruh i don't even know lol. it's just not a good look for her. I really wished they went with one of the other concept designs. Maybe not the ones with the dyed hair because it Will play into the Rebellion Asian Girl stereotype (since the show can't handle nuance if it was handed to them on a plate alongside a note with detailed instructions) but any of the other hairstyles and outfits would have 1000% translated better. The final design screams Basic Girl With A Purple Colour Palette and god I'm so bored of it. nothing about it is interesting. With the other characters there are other things that draw my eye to them, or make my attention last a little longer on them when they are the focus of a shot, but Jun? Jun's design is so plain. It's like slapping a slice of cheese on a really smooth ass and seeing it slide right off. No I am not ashamed to use that comparison because that is what I feel all the time when I look at Jun. Get a boring design, get bored reactions (and unhinged comparisons).

But honestly, the truly best way to really elevate her character is to, you know, do more research on her heritage and her background. East Asian cultures are RIPE with a variety of stories to tell - tying her connection to dragons via her love for stories (and consequently stories being her only connection to her distant father) is such an interesting facet of her already-established character to me!! Why not continue exploring that?? HTTYD has always been about family and friendships, so why not focus on what's Not present in her life: her father? He's still alive, mind you, but for reasons unknown has distanced himself from Jun, and Jun still desperately craves for him through her love for mythology - why???? what did they do together??? Why should I care about Jun's love of myths and the world beyond mortal comprehension??? Contrary to popular belief, this information MATTERS!!

(Also we need to do More Research in general. The Tarot Card Incident in S1 will never not get on my nerves because GOD you couldn't have picked a more easier thing to research!! You could become experts within days!! And yet you still got it wrong!!! And EYE am not even a Tarot card expert!!! The Tarot cards are literally never brought up again after the first five episodes of the show, so there goes another facet of Jun's character down the drain.)

Additionally Jun needs to be given authority over her own character progression. So far it's always been A Person Is Opposing Me And I Have To Overcome That. They Don't Like Me So I'm Gonna Make Them. She's constantly being taken advantage of in her own episodes (S6E3), and it becomes more of race to the viewers on whether or not she can actually pick up borderline manipulative behaviours. (That whole episode was. uh. red flag after red flag. I hated that episode.) It is a disservice to the character to constantly place them back at square one after every victory, and I become more frustrated for Jun than by her actions. Maybe it's because it is set in stone for her to be the Astrid to the protagonist's Hiccup; they damage her authority and independence to benefit the status of the hero (who is most absolutely a fuckwad, but we can talk about him another time).

There's also an annoying inconsistency in how Jun's quality as "mystic nerd/quirky girl/smart one" manifests in the show. Like, it's so obvious that she's capable of critical thinking and using her prefrontal cortex and making unique connections with the world around her she couldn't be anymore neurodivergent if she tried; I'm more inclined to believe that she can pick up a variety of skills in a matter of minutes just because she wants to. She is Actually Smart sometimes, but the show itself disregards this and dumbs her down and gets her into stupid situations (like the aforementioned Red Flag episode). And I honestly don't know why (racism. god forbid having a woman of colour make her own decisions). If you want to have her be the Quirky Girl, let her be Consistently Quirky. I want a Quirky Girl who knows what she's talking about and refuses to be bogged down by other people. Let her be Silly please.

So. yeah. I'm more annoyed with the fact that Jun Wong has a TONNE of potential as a character but literally with every chance she gets to shine said chance is flushed down the toilet and spat out into a tar pit.

We could have had a complex character who turned to stories and myths both as a way for her to escape the expectations of her overly-demanding mother, and to connect with her absent father.

We could have had a complex character who overcomes her beliefs about herself, challenges the beliefs of the world around her, and wants to make a name for herself

We could have had a complex character who has more recognisable traits that speak to her personality and compliment the interactions she has with the cast

Make her neurodivergent this is the only fuckin way

We could have had a complex character who beautifully represents the intricacies of East Asian cultures, as well as a character whom people of Asian descent can look up to

But alas, these are things considered by people who care about the characters they create. Jun Wong is another victim of studios who "tick the Diversity checkbox and refuse to develop her character further and let her be a multi-faceted vehicle of ideals for the narrative"

also obligatory announcement:

Alex Gonzales is best girl. the only good character in this dumpster fire of a show

#i get so pissed off whenever jun shows up because eye know she can be better #she really can be better. i KNOW she can be a character whom people like!!! she is actually likable at times!!!!! #but the studios don't CARE they just need to push their hiccup/astrid knock-off ship down our throats soooooo bad #please god i'm so tired of having to watch a character with potential get treated like literal garbage and act like literal garbage #this show constantly baits me and i take it every time in futile hope that there might be an improvement. but alas #dragons nine realms #dragons the nine realms #httyd #jun wong #httyd tnr #agni of wisdom #agnirambles #nine realms but legit #the nine realms

[aliatori]

Thread the Needle

The Forsaken and the Forsworn | Post-Fate | Gabriel Berthelot/Jihane N'Ait | 10.5k words | Explicit

Tevnit alerts Jihane to a new presence in the pavilion. She tenses, her claws digging into the white leather padding of the perch she’s made of Jihane’s shoulder. Her narrow reptilian head darts toward the western entrance; the sunset unfolding above the tiled arch sets her fire opal scales ablaze. To mollify her while she sorts out her unexpected visitor, Jihane lifts another bloody rodent morsel to her jaws as an offering.

“Scion-Captain Berthelot, Mistress N’Ait.” Sidqi vanishes as soon as the announcement is made.

Not so unexpected, then. Jihane knew it was only a matter of time before Gabriel sought her out again. It’s why she left standing orders with her household to allow him entry.

Between her and Sea-Trader Melançon, they’ve impressed upon Gabriel the necessity of covering the Watcher’s mark in certain spaces; nudity full or partial is no cause for remark in the Enclave, but bearing another deity’s favor so openly in Rhohnas’ lands, even that of a potential Exiled ally, creates more problems than Jihane cares to solve. More a surprise than the Scion-Captain’s presence is that he appears to have heeded their concerns, particularly after the nonsense with the flagrant cup sharing between him and the Sea-Trader at the recent banquet.

He cuts a striking figure in the sunrobe Jihane gifted him. Instead of selecting a bright Trinoran hue, she made her one concession to the Watcher and her chosen with the colour palette: a dark blue-grey like a brewing storm, with elaborate white embroidery at the edges of the short sleeves and decorating the hem. Circular swirls reminiscent of waves decorate both sides of the low, open vee neckline; the swell of bare, hair-dusted chest confirms Gabriel hasn’t deigned to wear anything beneath it. Continuing her downward sweep, Jihane smiles to see the midnight blue leather sandals she sent with the sunrobe on his feet, straps crossed across the tops of them and continuing halfway up his sturdy calves. A shame he’ll have to remove them for ablutions if she chooses to take this reunion indoors.

A heady thrill quakes through her at the sight. The Scion-Captain’s obedience bodes well for Jihane’s plans both personal and political. Were she a less patient woman, she’d be tempted to take him here and now.

When she lifts her gaze from Gabriel’s feet to his eyes, his arrogant grin reminds her of the challenges ahead.

“Don’t get any wild notions about all this politicking just ‘cause of an outfit.” He sweeps ringed fingers down his body in an invitation Jihane graciously accepts. “I reckon it’s only smart not to make waves… at least when I ain’t in control of them.”

Jihane decides this doesn’t merit a response. It would only be giving him the attention he craves. Instead, she turns to Tevnit, irritation writ plain in her glittering topaz eyes. Jihane retrieves another sliver of raw flesh from the lined pouch at her waist and tosses it to Tevnit, who snaps her maw shut around it with a loud clack.

Now just outside of arm’s reach, Gabriel stops, expression shrewd as he takes in Tevnit’s presence. At least he has a sense of danger.

“What is that? Some kind of pet?”

“To call Tevnit ‘pet’ is an insult. She’s a companion, of sorts. That’s the closest Achaizarian word that translates.” The companion in question stares down Gabriel, stone-still, the prelude to deciding he’s a threat. She holds up her free hand and splays the blood-stained fingers wide in a silent command to stop. “Don’t come any closer.”

The twist of Gabriel’s lips and scrunch of his bold nose signal his displeasure. She half expects him to take a step closer to spite her, and as far as Jihane’s concerned, he’d deserve the flame or claw he’d get for his trouble. But stop he does, which sets different gears turning in Jihane’s thoughts, ones wondering what other commands Xeheia’s envoy would obey.

“She gonna take my eye out if I do?”

“If I don’t beat her to it.” More tease than threat, even if Jihane’s capable when pressed.

Still, Gabriel laughs, rich and deep. “Been told I’m altogether too whole to have been a pirate this long. It would figure a—whatever she is—would take my eye out before some navy dog or piss-drunk merchant.”

“The Empire calls them dragons, like the creatures from their myths. They’re ignorant, but they’re not entirely wrong in this case. They’re flying, scaled, sun-blooded creatures, some of whom can command flame when mature, as befitting children of Rhohnas.” Jihane strokes the pale orange webbing of Tevnit’s folded wing with a gentle finger and earns a pleased trill in response, though her attention remains on Gabriel. That makes both of them, unfortunately.

“So like shadowkraken are to Xeheia. Just.” Gabriel pauses, eyeing Tevnit with curiosity and respect that seems genuine. “Smaller.”

“Exactly, Scion-Captain.” In her pleasure, Jihane rewards Gabriel with a toothy smile. The twist of hunger in his features as he beholds her fangs rewards her in turn. “Though of course, I’ve only heard of shadowkraken second-hand, and little at that. The waters of the Umbra are far from Enclave shores.”

“Most people who see ‘em don’t live to talk about it, and those that do, well…” Gabriel tosses his head, the end of his sleek braid brushing an exposed sliver of collarbone, then laughs. “Let’s just say we’re still tight-lipped about some things. Can’t go giving all our secrets away, no matter how keen the old girl is on cozying up to the rest of the Exiled.”

“Confirmation that shadowkraken are sacred to Xeheia is more than I knew one turn ago,” Jihane says. “How would you feel about a trade?”

Gabriel shifts his weight to one leg, arms folded across his broad, generous chest. She tries not to focus on his dayrobe riding up to mid-thigh with the motion. The smug grin returns with a heated slant, one that evokes a flutter between her legs and a roar to rival Tevnit’s in her pulse.

“You and trades. This gonna be like the last trade? ‘Cause that one worked out for both of us.”

“So you presume.”

“Didn’t hear any complaints, though that could’ve been because your thighs were clamped ‘round my ears.”

So presumptive. But Jihane enjoys taming dangerous creatures, bringing them to heel. Tevnit’s solid weight on her shoulder attests to that.

She unties the pouch at her waist and tosses it across the tiled ground of the pavilion to him. He catches it, clenching it tight in his fist, that intriguing curiosity back on his face. Without waiting for permission—to Jihane’s irritation—he opens the bag, his studded eyebrows lifting.

“Not that it’s the first time I’ve been in this position, but any particulars as to why you threw a sack of offal at me?” Jihane draws back to look at Tevnit, who trains her gaze on the bag the Scion-Captain holds. Her vertical pupils have widened with interest, though her scales are lifted from her skin, a literal bristle of agitation. With a looping snatch of song, Jihane commands her to stay put, just in case she harbours any idea of flying to snatch the bag from Gabriel’s unsuspecting grasp. Ever the opportunistic girl.

“A gift. The first step in establishing trust with sunwyrms is to hand-feed them. It’s what all of Tevnit’s stewards have done to mind her in my absence when she chooses to visit. Often, devotees of Rhohnas seek out a sunwyrm to perform this with as a ritual in the wild. It’s seen as courting Rhohnas’ favour.”

“And what makes you think I need to court Rhohnas’ favour?” Gabriel touches his fingertips to the bird skull dangling from his relic. No surprise he refuses to conceal that; Sea-Trader Melançon made a wine-induced admission that it once belonged to him. “I got more than enough favour to last this lifetime, through all seven hells, and right to the next realm.” “Is that not the entire point of your diplomatic visit? To gain Rhohnas’ favour and bring that promise back to the Watcher?” Jihane holds up a single finger and forestalls the reply Gabriel opens his mouth to give. “If nothing else, I know you’re courting my favour, your creative subversions of my advice aside. I’m curious to see what judgment Tevnit—and thereby, Rhohnas—makes of you.”

A pretty flush spreads up the tanned skin of Gabriel’s chest, making it all the way to his cheeks. Good. Jihane enjoys it when a well-placed shot strikes true, even more so when it has the Scion of a deity shuffling his feet.

The moment passes quickly, and the bluster she’s quickly beginning to associate with Xeheia’s chosen devotee rises like a storm wind. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

“Take one of the slices from the feed bag and place it upon your fingers, then slowly approach Tevnit with your palm extended. Emphasis on slowly. My beloved girl, like me, doesn’t enjoy surprises.”

“And then?”

“She’ll either eat it from your palm, which means she’s accepted you as worthy, or she’ll bite off a finger or two. But not to worry—Enclave chirurgeons are without peer. You’d likely not lose them permanently.”

She watches the emotions spin on Gabriel’s face like bits of stained glass in the toy tubes they make for children, rapid and plain to see. He studies Tevnit for a long moment then gives a decisive nod.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” No hesitation.

Jihane steadies her breathing. The anticipation sets her limbs shaking. In the interest of a fair judgment, she stills her body. The way Gabriel throws himself headlong into danger to prove himself to her, to her deity? It stokes the embers of her desire into a roaring flame.

But there’s a test to be passed, first.

Gabriel, raw meat in his palm, approaches with slow, confident steps, the leather of his gifted sandals whispering against the coloured spray of tile beneath them. Wind rustles through the fronds lining the square, cutting through the stifling heat like a cool knife. He walks like a man used to peril – not flinging himself headlong, but not holding back.

Tevnit stirs as he gets closer, scales lifting further from her skin and making her seem twice again her size. Her long neck stretches to look down at Gabriel from her perch. A gurgle emanates from Tevnit’s throat along with the smell of sulfur. Not the worst reaction, but still in precarious territory.

“Careful,” Jihane says sternly, only realizing after that she’s spoken in Trinoran.

The lightning-glow of Gabriel’s gaze meets hers without a shred of fear. He returns his attention to Tevnit, palm held out, emperor and supplicant in the same moment. Wisely, he pauses until Tevnit stops her warning rumble, then carves out the last steps to get within arm’s reach with measured deliberation, bearded chin tilted in an approximation of deference.

The tension could snap bones. Jihane registers each shift of Tevnit’s weight on her shoulder, reminding herself to keep breathing. She watches Gabriel with a threefold hunger – for the man, the sacred, and the thrill. His palm doesn’t so much as quiver as he waits for Tevnit’s choice, and in that moment, she feels righteousness about her decision to seek his aid.

She only hopes Tevnit—who speaks for Rhohnas—feels the same.

All at once, Tevnit’s sleek head swoops down, dropping Jihane’s stomach to her feet along with it, a shimmering red-orange blur. But Jihane has never looked away from difficult moments and she does not look away now. Because she doesn’t, she’s treated to a marvellous sight: Gabriel’s hand remains unmaimed. Tevnit tosses the meat back in her gullet, scales smooth and flat, then lifts her head and trumpets her pleasure. There’s a sensation like someone pressing Jihane towards the ground, then airy lightness as Tevnit takes off into the fading blue of the sunset sky, flying true as an arrow to the opening of the courtyard, where she will roam the islands to her heart’s content until she comes back to Jihane.

“So did I pass,” he says, voice thick and hot, not bothering to make it a question.

Jihane closes the gap between them and takes the bag of feed from his grasp, dropping it on the ground. She replaces it with her hands, gripping his forearms and trailing her fingers up them, avoiding the lines of sacred ink. To be the first to reach for him in greeting breaks protocol. Then again, so is the slow squeeze she gives his forearms and the soft stroke of her fingertips along his skin. It borders on scandalous.

A perilous combination of rapture, lust, and yearning fills her, scorching like a desert sun. She struggles to subdue it; the casual stroke of Gabriel’s calloused thumbs along the Maw scars covering her arms doesn’t help.

He’s proving dangerous in more ways than one.Time to start balancing the scales.

“Join me for an evening meal.”

It’s not a question.

-----

Gotta hand it to the Enclave, and to Jihane in particular—Gabriel’s eaten better these past two spans than he’s eaten in a Rising. At least when he’s at the Eye, what with supplies still coming in at a trickle compared to the old days of a full fleet. Feels like no sooner than she snapped her fingers and doled out orders to her staff than a pile of vittles appeared before them.

Not that he’s of much of a mind to eye the contents.

Contrary to Luc’s ribbing back dockside at the Squall, Gabriel knows he’s thinking with his dick instead of diplomacy. At least somewhat. Thing is? He doesn’t care.

On the opposite side of the square table, Jihane dips her clawed fingers into a fancy white bowl with six-sided red figures on the outside, matching red petals floating on the surface of what Gabriel assumes to be water. A floral fragrance wafts towards him as she shakes off the perfumed excess, then neatly wipes her hands on a vibrant green cloth beside the tray. He likes the meticulousness of her. He likes it more when he gets the chance to muss it up, which he can admit he’s angling for tonight.

When she glances up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, there’s no mistaking the look in her rose-coloured eyes for anything but flirtation, and—yeah. It’s enough to get his dick twitching between his legs. Can’t decide yet what kind of omen that is. There’s some kind of game ahead. How much he can sway it remains to be seen.

“Not hungry, Scion-Captain?” Jihane asks.

Gabriel doesn’t answer, giving her a slow once-over instead. She’s dressed in all white today, a white so brilliant as to be dazzling, like the way high sun on a clear day can turn the seas beneath his ship into a gleaming expanse of fire. Unlike the short sleeves of his robe, her pleated, dressier affair is missing the sleeves… and most of the chest. He doesn’t bother to hide his leer as he admires the pillowy swell of her breasts spilling over the tops of the cups meant to hold them, twitches again thinking of burying his face in the expanse of smooth brown skin. The clear beads Gabriel’s learned denote her status sparkle where they’re woven into her long box braids, which she has pulled into a half-crown atop her head. One bare foot peeks out from where Jihane has her legs tucked beneath her. The gold lacquer on her toes matches the shade of her claws.

“Not for anything on the table right now,” he answers.

“How unfortunate for you.” Her dazzling smile does fuck all to hide the new huskiness of her voice. “My suggestion? Find a different appetite to whet. Surely you wouldn’t be so rude as to let all this go to waste.”

“Sure don’t sound like a suggestion.”

“It isn’t.”

Gabriel’s stomach, traitor that it is, betrays him with a rumble. It’s almost, almost worth it for Jihane’s laugh afterward, full lips curved in a gorgeous smile.

“I won’t have it said that I mistreat my guests. Even guests who show up with such an… interesting interpretation of how to wear a dayrobe.”

Sparrow’d made that much apparent in a catty snipe upon Gabriel’s departure, that Jihane’s gift was meant to be worn on top of different clothes, but so far, he hasn’t seen any downsides. He spots a stack of lightly charred flatbread and sets to digging in, spreading a paste made of salty Trinoran fruit with the miniature blunt knife on the tray beside it. It’s warm, delicious, and has his mouth watering even more than it already was.

Jihane doesn’t touch any of the stuff yet, which. Weird. But Gabriel likes the weight of her attention, the satisfaction in the square set of her shoulders as he starts in on a second flatbread.

“What sorts of delicacies do you enjoy at the Storm’s Eye?” Jihane asks, clawed fingers curled in a fist beneath her chin.

He swallows his current bite and then snorts. “Hmmm. Nothin’ you’d call a delicacy by your lofty standards.”

“I’ll weigh the scales on that. Answer the question.”

Her tone brooks no argument, so Gabriel begins to reply… then stops, a realization heating the back of his neck. She’s bossing him around. All but dressing him, her ‘companion’, the food, now this. And here he is, going along with it like he’s not the mortal voice of Xeheia on this plane.

“I did, didn’t I? Ain’t my fault if you don’t like the answer.”

The air between them frosts despite a fierce humidity clinging to the dusk, one which beads sweat under Gabriel’s arms and along his back. Jihane diverts her attention to the jewelry on her fingertips as though it’s the most interesting bauble in her opulent pavilion, turning them this way and that. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.

Fine. Two can play that game.

Being pissed doesn’t change the fact he’s hungry, so he keeps on eating: crispy fried balls of dough laced with seasonings, crunchy purple vegetables cut into thin strips, a savoury beige paste spread on more flatbread. Jihane finally picks out a few items for herself – the fried dough, and a few of the black and green salty fruits but whole. Between each bite she dips her hands in the cleaning water and wipes them on the cloth after. There’s a matching bowl beside Gabriel too, but he chooses to ignore it as thoroughly as Jihane ignores him.

A familiar struggle burns and tugs its way through Gabriel’s chest. Anger, yeah, and embarrassment. But it’s the kind of embarrassment that quickens his pulse as much as it heats his skin, the prelude to a fight he gets hard thinking about throwing. When he and Jihane fucked before, it was the usual sort, give or take the burns and bloodshed. Now? He’s not so sure.

Most of his experience in these games has been with Hugo, who’s always more interested in having an excuse to wreck Gabriel with his godsdamned sadistic tortures than being obeyed to the letter. Jihane, though? Disobedience is like dunking a torch in the ocean for all the good it does.

He blows air through his nose, scratches at the fresh growth of beard along his neck, then finally says, “Fish.”

Jihane turns from her throne of pillows and cushions to look at him. It’s just a look, but it’s a look. She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Lots and lots of fish. Fresh, fire-roasted, pickled, raw, you name it—it’s probably at the Eye. Seaweed, too. Grew it ourselves back in the Umbra and it transferred easy enough. And goats, sometimes. The tough little bastards used to be all over. We took as many of them with us as we could when we had to move.” When he sank the island at Xeheia’s behest, half mad with grief and to be sure nothing was left of the Carnage, but he ain’t getting into that story right now. "And they’re doing fine, but not enough to start slaughterin’ the seven hells out of them yet.”

The more Gabriel speaks, the more Jihane shows interest, until she’s leaning toward him across the table, a delighted smile making apples of her cheeks.

She places her hand over Gabriel’s on the table. The points of her claws kiss the pronounced veins along the back of it. “Thank you. Since I’m hopeful we’ll be allies for the foreseeable future, I want to understand you and your people, even the mundane details. As much as you’re able to divulge, of course. I understand needing to keep the mysteries sacred.” Jihane winks before releasing Gabriel’s hand, and fuck if he’s not dripping—literally—with the satisfaction of giving her what she wants.

Godsdamned inconvenient, his dick.

“What about you? There’s gotta be something you can only find here. Something special to the Enclave. Only fair for me to know.”

Jihane’s smile takes on a new brilliance, sun-bright. “I’m so glad you asked. A fresh harvest from the orchards on the far isles just arrived and brought my favourite Enclave fruit with it.” She plucks a pale blue sphere as big as Gabriel’s fist from the table, then changes her mind and rolls it to him instead.

He stops it with his palm and picks it up. It’s surprisingly heavy in his grip, and if he had smaller hands, it wouldn’t even fit in one. Gabriel gives it an experimental squeeze and finds the husk on the outside firm yet not without give. Dipping his head, he sniffs at it, but whether it’s the savoury smoke coming from the kitchens of Jihane’s estate or a lack in the fruit itself, he can’t smell anything in particular.

“Go ahead. Open it,” Jihane says. She sits up straighter on her side of the table.

Gabriel casts about for some tool or utensil and, finding nothing obvious, opts for the direct route. He tenses his biceps and bears down with his fingers, a claw-like grip on either side, pushing in and pulling apart at the same time. It resists…

Until it doesn’t.

The tension vanishes and the fruit pops apart with a wet, papery crack… and a puff of what sure as all hells looks like steam. Dark orange juice sprays across the lacquered, pale wood of the table and Gabriel’s robe, though it misses Jihane’s pristine ensemble. Glistening flesh the colour of lava fills the inside, a paler yellow membrane clinging to what looks like clusters of tiny pearls on the inside. And he wasn’t imagining things with the steam. Wisps of it drift up from the fruit, which has an intense, sweet, spiced smell now that it’s open. A brush of Gabriel’s fingers confirms the insides are warm as blood. He presses down with the pads of his thumbs and draws out more juice, thin rivulets snaking down his forearms, the liquid hot enough to raise the hair on his arms.

When he finally looks at Jihane, she’s examining her dress-like getup with irritation, though it fades as she finishes her examination. She lifts her face to lock eyes with Gabriel. Black swallows the rose gold of her irises, leaving only a thin pink ring behind.

“What is it that I’m holdin’, exactly?”

“Kliaquat. It’s a fruit that only grows here in the Enclave’s archipelago. In addition to being delicious and expensive, it’s considered sacred to Rhohnas. A testament to his duality.” After a pause, Jihane sweeps a clawed hand at him, twirling it at the wrist in a gesture even Gabriel can interpret as ‘get on with it’. “Go ahead. Enjoy.”

He studies the kliaquat in his hand. It occurs to him it could be poisonous to eat, like spinefish or bubblefish. But his gut says Jihane ain’t looking to do him in just yet. Not without her contract being signed and fulfilled, at least; Gabriel’s got a keen sense for the murderous, and while he’s sure as the Depths are dark Jihane’s gotten her hands dirty, he doesn’t think he’s a target yet.

May as well enjoy himself in the meantime.

Experimental prods confirm the juice comes from the pearls inside bursting. This is clearly a two-hand job, so Gabriel abandons half of the fruit on the table to use both. He plucks out one or two pearls afterward, squishing them between his fingers. There’s a strange satisfaction in each tepid pop. He’s sure he’s not meant to eat the outside, and having torn it in half means there’s no easy way to take a whole bite of it. That leaves scooping out the insides with his fingers.

It’s harder than it looks; most pearls dislodge easily from the faded yellow netting that holds them, but they’re crushed in the process. There’s a hard bit in the middle of each pearl. Seeds, most like. Probably edible. Only one sure way to find out. Gabriel aligns three fingers along the torn edge of the kliaquat, presses down, and digs in, aiming to shovel out a handful of the seeds without damaging too many. Iridescent orange-red juice flows down his forearms, mingling with the black gyre of tentacle exposed by his Enclave-approved robe. The spiced scent is cloying in its sweetness yet still mouth-watering; he’s never met a sweet he’s said no to. Or a spice, for that matter. And the steaming flesh of the fruit…

“Kinda like being three knuckles deep in guts. Either kind,” he observes aloud.

Jihane makes a noise Gabriel would bet his considerable purse was borne of shock, but she covers it with a pretty cough. There’s a predator’s sharpness in her demeanor when Gabriel glances her way, not unlike her little sunwyrm companion from earlier. He starts to regret—but only just, and only a part—opening the door for her budding depraved urges.

“An interesting description.” There’s a solid pause, and then Jihane asks, “Something you have a lot of experience in, I understand.”

Gabriel grins. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish, now, or that your Sea-Trader has convinced you we all make nice and polite robbing each other on the Fourfold. The fold’s more, huh… discerning about the kinds of violence we visit these days, but some things can only end in blood.”

“Oh, don’t mistake me, Gabriel.” Huskiness returns to Jihane’s voice. “I’m… intrigued. But right now, what I want is for you to eat. So eat.”

Gabriel wrestles down his initial spiteful urge to refuse. Might have been a time he told himself he does it because he’s still hungry, because the fruit looks delicious, but he’s older and wiser—or at least less inclined to indulge his own bullshit. But the plain fact is he likes Jihane’s attention, likes basking in her pleasure when he does as she says. Besides which, he ought to save the fighting and backtalk for the fights that matter, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty as they work out this so-called political and divine alliance.

He raises his cupped palm and parts his lips, drawing the modest handful of pearls into his mouth. Gabriel rolls them around his tongue, though there are only the vaguest hints of tart sweetness so far. Pressing them against the roof of his mouth and cheeks isn’t enough to burst them, so he opts to start chewing.

Flavour erupts along his tongue, the juice as tart and spiced as mulled wine, but with a cascade of new tastes he has no words to describe. They’re sweet, too, and as suspected yield a fibrous crunch when Gabriel gets to the center of the pearls. It should be off-putting, the fruit being a shade away from hot, but when he swallows it kindles a pleasant warmth all the way to his stomach. Almost as good as belting back a slug of fine liquor.

As soon as he finishes the first handful, he digs for more. Faster this time, more careless, to the point where juice trickles over his lips and through his beard, his hands sticky and stained the colour of rust where some of it has dried. Gabriel doesn’t even mind the bitter bits of membrane stuck in the seeds from his haste. By his third and last handful, he lets out a loud, throaty groan before he even chews the pearls. It has an addictive quality; the intensity of the flavour should leave him sated, but with only the hollowed husk and the tattered remains of the webbing left in this half of kliaquat, Gabriel only thinks about the second half.

At least until he lifts his eyes and catches sight of Jihane.

There’s hunger written plain as the stars on her face, though Gabriel knows without a doubt it’s him she’s hungry for, not the fruit, no matter how good it is. Her breasts heave up and down with each deep breath she takes. Haze fogs her eyes when she manages to lock gazes with Gabriel, though it clears in a few deliberate blinks.

“I take it you enjoy the kliaquat.”

Instead of answering right away, Gabriel takes the time to lick each of the fingers on his right hand clean, drawing them into his mouth one by one, releasing them each time with an audible pop.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “I reckon I did.”

Jihane shifts, an elbow digging into a brilliant turquoise cushion to prop her up. “Then you won’t mind sharing with me.”

“’Course not,” Gabriel says, picking up the other half from the table and extending it to her. He frowns at the smoky plumes of Jihane’s laughter.

“Not like that. You’ll feed it to me. And properly, without mess.”

Gabriel’s frown deepens. A familiar heat prickles along the back of his neck, the equally addictive combination of anger and imminent humiliation. “I ain’t one of your servants to be ordered about, set to wash your feet and fan you with leaves and hand feed you.”

Jihane shrugs a silken, coppery shoulder, the picture of indifference. “If you consider it beneath you, then you can also consider yourself dismissed. I’m a busy woman and won’t waste time arguing with you.”

There’s a moment where it feels like Gabriel’s head has been dunked in a raging river, the roar of his blood like the rush of water filling his ears. It floods his chest, neck, and cheeks. A part of him is pissed as all seven hells.

The other part knows he’s fucked six ways to the Watcher.

“Least tell me what you mean by proper,” Gabriel mutters.

Jihane thaws again, all satisfaction. “Come over here and I will.” She then crooks a clawed finger to beckon Gabriel to her side of the table.

Is this what it’s like to deal with his mercurial moods? The winds of her temper shift nearly as quick as his own. Godsdamn.

He stands, cursing under his breath as his thighs slip against one another, making him realize just how wet he is. Whatever. He knew what he was getting into when he decided to come calling at Jihane’s palatial doorstep. Mostly.

“Kneel here beside me, then I’ll show you how to eat it correctly.”

He bares his teeth in a grimace. The way she orders him about, it’s like she’s forgetting who, what he is. He bites his tongue—literally—against telling her where to shove her imperious commands. Then, a tide of lustful shame rising in him like the dark waters of Xeheia’s holy sea, he lowers himself to one knee, then the other, taking a seat on the backs of his heels. The leather of the sandals digs into his ass, his thin robe not doing much to help blunt the pressure.

“Good.” Jihane all but purrs the word, and Gabriel loves and hates how he can feel himself swell at the praise. Worse still is the traitorous twitch of his cock when she pats his bearded cheek, the tips of her claws clicking against the rings in his ears. “Very good.”

“Just…” Gabriel huffs out an impatient breath, trying hard not to lean into her touch and debase himself more than he has already. “Just get on with it.”

“This is a task that requires patience. Best if you start summoning it now,” she says, a mix of derision and delight in her tone.

Turning from him, Jihane reaches her wide, plush arms across the table to place the remaining kliaquat half on a tray Gabriel didn’t see before. It’s ostentatiously decorated like everything in the Enclave, the base polished ivory and the handles a metallic rose gold. The utensils on it are ivory accented in yellow gold and most make sense: a bowl with high sides studded with pink gems that holds the other half of the fruit, a tiny spoon with scalloped edges, and a steel knife with a carved handle that matches the tray.

The purpose of a rectangular dish lined with several golden needles eludes Gabriel. They’re more delicate pieces than he’s used to, whether from his years of sewing or the fold’s flesh-piercers or Aurele and xyr unflinching sutures.

“The most traditional way to properly eat a kliaquat is threading the seeds on a needle and eating them one or two at a time,” Jihane explains, tapping the needles with her claws. “It’s a delicate process. Use the wrong amount of pressure or pierce it in the wrong spot and the seed bursts. If you don’t use enough force, the seed slips away from the needle and escapes you entirely.”

Gabriel’s frustration mounts just listening to the explanation, let alone trying it. “Lemme guess. That’s the way you want me to feed it to you.”

“It is. And unlike you,”—her eyes sweep down, taking in the erratic pattern of dark stains on Gabriel’s robe—“I expect my clothing to remain spotless.”

There’s a definite ‘or else’ she doesn’t say aloud, so Gabriel asks, “Or else what?”

“If you’re lucky, you won’t find out. I can assure you, the consequences will be nothing you enjoy, so if you were thinking I’d inflict you with pain as punishment, think again.”

A low laugh escapes Gabriel. “Figured me out that quick, huh?” “Watching you writhe as I sank my foreteeth into your chest, as I touched you with Rhohnas’ flame… It would have given away to the most oblivious person, and I’m far from oblivious, Scion-Captain.” She studies him, an excited light shimmering in her eyes. “Are you up to the task?”

He scoffs, then swivels at the hips to pick up the bowl holding the fruit and a needle to match. “I ain’t about to let some fruit and a needle best me after all the shit I’ve done.”

“Let’s hope your skill matches your confidence.” Jihane glances at the tray Gabriel left on the table. “Most beginners—children, usually—make use of the tray at first. It saves some face when a seed inevitably gets away from them.”

“It’s like I said. I don’t need help. You’ll get your fruit without the mess you hate so much.”

Jihane smiles like a trap being sprung. “Then get to it, Gabriel.”

The bowl fits neatly in his hand, its weight solid with the kliaquat resting in it. The needle’s not a dainty piece of shit, but it still feels irritatingly thin and small in his grip for the task at hand. He hasn’t spent most of his life making his clothes and carving scrimshaw and wood for his dexterity to be bested by one godsdamned piece of fruit.

The first pearl he tries to thread on the needle bursts, leaving nothing but wilted topaz flesh clinging to the seed inside. There’s so much juice inside such a tiny pearl; dots of it fleck Gabriel’s freckled forearm and the back of his opposite hand, but thankfully, he’s far enough away from Jihane that it misses her clothing.

“You could still use the tray,” Jihane says.

“Yeah, well, in case you ain’t already noticed, I’m a stubborn asshole. I don’t need it.”

Gabriel slows down, nudging a pearl with the sharp tip of the needle. He doesn’t want it flying every which way and landing on Jihane. Embarrassing, to end the game so soon. He angles the needle downward, about where he judges the midpoint between the edge of the pearl and the seed itself, then thrusts it inward with what he thinks to be sufficient pressure and a steady hand.

The devious son of a bitch still shoots out of the bowl. Thankfully, it lands on a nearby section of tiles, bursting upon impact. His cheeks heat again, pulse quickening with his frustration and the expectant gaze of Jihane on him.

“This is the most hull-licking, bilge-pissing, barnacle-fucking, foolish bleedin’—” Gabriel says, the rest of his words swallowed in a heavy sigh. The notion of tossing the whole bowl across Jihane’s fancy courtyard seems more appealing by the heartbeat.

“Such inventive language. Swears, I assume. Not ones I’m familiar with.”

“Don’t imagine you would be. They ain’t exactly commonplace, and much of a dirty conniving bastard as your Sea-Trader is, his language is cleaner than the rest of him.” Gabriel frowns at the cracked and split husk of fruit in the bowl in his hand, needle at the ready. He reckons he’s got it this next time. “Plus, it’s a particular gift of mine.”

“I’d recommend keeping a civil tongue when you address me. The way you speak of the Sea-Trader? I wouldn’t tolerate it.”

“He gives as good as he gets, believe you me. And anyway, he ain’t here.”

Gabriel places the tip of the needle against the seed and pushes it through in a single thrust. He whoops with delight, though he’s careful to keep his hand even. He lifts it from the bowl to examine his handiwork. In the fading light, the gold of the needle looks like treasure preserved in amber where it penetrates the seed. For a moment, he thinks about popping into his mouth, but Jihane’s expectant look quashes that impulse before it truly gets underway.

“Well done. Now feed it to me, and be careful not to injure me. It will end our game along with mess.”

“Just full of demands, aren’t you? Anything else, Mistress?” Gabriel asks, using the Trinoran word he’s heard Jihane’s staff tack on the end of every sentence and before each use of her name.

Jihane’s eyebrows raise to the elegant, oiled baby hairs at her hairline. Her surprise melts into the kind of expression that makes Gabriel’s heart twist and cock throb: delight with the promise of some inventive cruelty.

“I see you’ve a gift for other parts of language too.” Her searching gaze sends a hot prickle across his skin. “Since you’re so eager to please, I can certainly give you another task.” Jihane flutters her lashes, the bold sweep of gold eye paint glittering as she does. “You can thank me for the privilege of allowing you to feed me before we begin.”

Thank her? For assigning him some tedious, ass-backward work? He opens his mouth to tell her exactly what he’s going to thank her for… and stops when Jihane reaches up and rests her sharp claw against his lips in a shushing motion.

“You’re doing so well, Scion-Captain. Don’t ruin it in a rash moment,” Jihane says, eyes hooded. “Or do. It would please me as much to send you away and deny you as it would to keep going. What happens next depends entirely on you.” She removes her hand and rests it across the curve of her belly, bronzed claws splayed against the white of her clothing, recumbent in the pile of tasseled pillows as she waits.

He hates the way his heart pounds behind his ribs, the way his inner thighs slip against each other in his arousal. Gabriel’s still got the threaded seed and needle in hand as he weathers the hot rush of emotions—fury, lust, shame, desire. He sucks in a deep lungful of air, nose flaring.

“Thank you,” he grits out, face burning, “for lettin’ me feed you.”

“Almost. You’re forgetting the word you and your clever tongue picked up.”

Watcher take him to his watery fucking grave and spare him this humiliation. Gabriel vows to redouble his arguments when they get back to the political part of their negotiating.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She beams at him, bright as the sun and warm as she claims the fire of her god is, and he’ll be buried inland if it doesn’t feel good to be the reason for it. “Perfect. Now, let’s begin.”

Jihane parts her full lips, the tip of her pink tongue and fangs visible as she waits. Gabriel’s lungs seize for a treacherous moment, cock pulsing at the image. Still, if he’s going to do a job, he’s going to do it well. He lifts the needle to her mouth and slips it inside, the topaz pearl resting on her tongue. Jihane closes her lips around the needle and gazes up at him, rose-gold eyes swallowed by her pupils. It takes him a second to realize she’s not going to draw back herself, so Gabriel keeps an even hand and slides the needle from her mouth, now freed of its juicy seed.

He watches in silence as she works the seed around her mouth, jaw moving as she bites down and hums in pleasure. Gabriel can relate. Just looking at the kliaquat’s flesh gets him hungry all over. Seeing her enjoy herself… Now he’s got two reasons for the spit flooding his mouth.

“There’s always the chance it was beginner’s luck. Again.”

“Luck’s for the Chance and the wildcards who follow them. But sure, I’ll do it again.”

This time, it’s much easier to get one of the seeds on the needle; the trick is going for the ones held in place by the membrane, that way they don’t fly off like hatches unbattened. Gabriel lifts it straight out then offers it to Jihane, threading it through her lips like an offering, clenching as she closes her eyes and waits for the needle to withdraw. Gabriel watches her throat work as she finally swallows the seed. A bead of orange-red juice lingers at the dip in her upper lip. “Well done, well done.” The praise burns like a quarterdeck covered in tar in Gabriel’s gut, quick and dangerous. She crooks her finger at him. “Lean down.”

The beginnings of a heady fog stir in Gabriel, clouding his normal urges to fight back. Not enough to dull his curiosity, though. He’s not sure if it’s pain or pleasure awaiting him at the end of her imaginary leash, but he’s keen to find out, so he leans down, belly clenched to brace himself. Jihane grips his shoulder and uses it as leverage to close the gap, and then her mouth is on his, warm and spiced and intoxicating. She parts his lips with her tongue in a mirror of his work with the needle, bestowing on him a deep kiss that redoubles the ache between his legs. What with his hands full, he can’t grab her by the ample hips and pull her closer as he’d like. But Gabriel’s still got his mouth. He groans and kisses back—tonguing at the tips of her fangs, licking the juice from her lip as the kiss breaks, then huffing out a frustrated breath when Jihane pulls back.

“Didn’t take you for the teasing kind.” “Teasing? If I were in the mood to, hmm. How does the expression go? Play with my food,” she lets a languorous pause fill the air as she looks him up and down, “You’d know it. That was a well-earned reward. I’m sure you’ll hear many rumors about me in your time here, most of which aren’t worth the breath spent to voice them. The one where I’m accused of being overgenerous to the point of bribery when people do as I bid?” She smiles, slow and decadent. “That has some degree of truth to it.”

“Reckon I’ll be the judge on whether the reward is generous enough for the task,” Gabriel retorts, smirking. “I’m used to my ship havin’ a belly full of treasure from all across the Fourfold. And folks can get… creative with their offerings when Xeheia’s crew boards their vessels.”

Jihane tosses her head back with a throaty laugh, generous breasts and belly shaking with each peal. She shoves at Gabriel’s thigh with her foot, a teasing push lacking the force to get him truly off balance. “See, I believe this is one reason we get along so well. Both of us are used to people signing their lives away to please us. I look forward to seeing such offerings for myself when you accept my contract.”

“Who said anything about accepting your contract? I still ain’t finished my talks with the Conflagration. And it’s more than a Rising before the weather will allow passage along the straits you wanna travel. A lot could happen between now and then.”

Jihane’s amusement writes itself on her features, her smugness a mirror to Gabriel’s own. She curves her foot inward and trails the ball along the outside of his thigh, venturing upward until it's tucked beneath his gifted robe. Her toes brush the crease where his leg meets his hip. Gabriel shudders at the delicate touch, then flushes and contemplates abandoning the whole kliaquat exercise, tugging her foot a handspan higher, and demonstrating his capability to turn the tables.

It must show on his face somehow because Jihane drops her foot and gives a sultry laugh. “You will. Of that I do not doubt, Scion-Captain. Now carry on before I lose my patience.”

Right. Gabriel had the bowl and needle in a white-knuckle grip if the tension in his joints is anything to go by. “Alright, alright. Time to see if you’re as generous as you claim.”

Gabriel pierces a third seed, albeit messily; tiny droplets of juice cling to the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. He feeds it to Jihane without incident, though she doesn’t seem inclined to offer one of the aforementioned rewards since it’s imperfect. By the fourth, he’s got the hang of it again. Jihane glows with satisfaction after she swallows the mouthful of fruit.

Turns out, she’s as good as her word. The more seeds he feeds her properly, the more she rewards him. It doesn’t make the task any less godsdamned tedious by nature, but it certainly makes it leagues more enjoyable. For the price of three unruptured pearls painstakingly placed on her tongue, he earns a second; Gabriel can taste the tartness of his own efforts as Jihane licks into his mouth, slow and deliberate. Several more seeds prove the price for more kisses—except Jihane leans in and places these on his taut nipples, tonguing at flesh and metal alike through the robe and leaving new stains in her wake.

“Not fair,” Gabriel grunts, tensing his thighs together in a bid to relieve the ache between them.

“Everything is fair when it’s my home, my game, and my rules.” Aside from her swollen lips, Jihane looks pristine and unaffected. “Keep going. I’m not finished, so neither are you.”

Impatient as all seven hells, Gabriel decides he can speed this up. He eases the needle through one seed then uses the edge of the bowl to push it further down the needle, carefully making room for a second. The second pearl joins the first, and when he lifts it to Jihane’s mouth, she smiles before closing her lips around the needle. She takes her time enjoying them, though by now they must be cool; her lashes flutter, and after she swallows, she lets out a pleased little sigh.

“Very good. You’re catching on so quickly.” With a cat-like smile, Jihane leans forward and places one hand in the valley of his chest, all five tips of her ornate claws nestled together on the skin the robe exposes. She beams up at him, radiating warmth like the galley stove during a winter storm, then drags her fingers down his chest and stomach, hard enough for him to feel the promise of pain but not hard enough to rip the cloth. The way he’s kneeling means she can’t get them where Gabriel really wants them, though even the brush of them across his lap has his cock throbbing and nerves tingling. “Do that again. Three, this time.”

Watcher help him, he doesn’t think twice about questioning it. In his haste, Gabriel misjudges the spot on the first seed; it bounces out of the bowl and off the top of Jihane’s foot, rolling down a groove in the pavilion tiles. A damning drop of orange juice quivers on the top of it. She arches a thick brow at him. “What did I say about patience? That was a close call.”

That does it. Gabriel sets the bowl and needle down, earning him a deeper glare from Jihane. He takes her delicate foot in both hands, one palm against her ankle with fingers wrapped around it to steady it, the other palm against her sole; her foot’s small enough that Gabriel could cover it completely and then some, if he wanted.

Instead, he bends down, back curved, and lifts it to his mouth. Clearly, Jihane doesn’t have much of a problem with this gesture, considering she could kick his teeth in if she took sincere issue. He locks eyes with her over the top of her foot. A delicate set of golden bangles in the interlocking shapes of leaves around her ankle tinkles like windchimes.

“Sorry, Mistress,” he says, overwrought for theatrics sake. Gabriel presses his lips to the top of her foot in a chaste kiss, inhaling deep to enjoy the perfume drifting from her soft skin. He deepens the kiss, teasing at the tracery of veins beneath his lips with the tip of his tongue. A faint hint of tartness confirms he’s gotten to the offending juice. “Won’t happen again,” he says before carefully placing her foot back on its ruby-red pillow.

Jihane’s breath comes deep, breasts straining against the nacreous white fabric of her dress. “And here I discover another one of your ‘talents’: making an apology sound like insolence.”

“Given that I ain’t in the habit of making apologies at all, I can’t see why you’re complaining.”

“My only complaint is you dallying with the task I set you.”

Gabriel smirks, then picks up the bowl and needle. Only a small pocket of seeds remains in the kliaquat. Almost done.

He intends to keep his wits about him, threading seeds three at a time to hurry along the task. But Jihane keeps her gaze on his, sure and steady, stoking the fire in his belly until the molten tension threatens to overflow. She can’t hide her own impatience. Gabriel notices how she draws back first from the needle, not bothering to wait for him to do it, and how she spends less time savouring the pearls.

By the time he finishes, Gabriel’s fingers are stained again, digits a rusty, shimmering orange from all the juices. A shallow pool of kliaquat juice covers the bottom of his fancy bowl, but true to his word, not a drop has gotten on Jihane’s outfit.

Jihane sits up, tucking both legs beneath her. “Here. Let me help clean you.”

Before Gabriel can do a godsdamn thing about it, Jihane takes his free hand in her burning one and brings it to her mouth. She runs her tongue along the curve of his thumb, licking it clean of juice with slow passes. When she gets to his fingers, she takes his pointer finger into her mouth entire, sucking on it in steady pulses; Gabriel’s heart pounds in tandem with Jihane’s attentions as he imagines those same attentions on his cock. She pulls away with syrupy slowness, her long lashes a false veil of demureness over her heated gaze.

He wants to say something, anything. He’s not the kind to get rendered speechless by more gentle diversions, no matter how gorgeous the person bestowing them. Gabriel squares up, taking a deep lungful of breath and intending to give his mouth free rein.

Except Jihane curls her tongue around his middle finger, paying special attention to the calluses on the underside; the silk of her tongue against the rough skin has him shivering where he keels. She kisses her way down to the juice-stained ring, then works her tongue around every golden crevice of the signet; her fangs dig in on either side of his knuckle as she commits to the task. Gabriel moans, the sharp prick of drawn blood and the warm softness of her mouth too much for him to hold back.

He barely registers her cleaning his remaining fingers. It’s hard to focus with the roar of desire washing out almost everything else. The roar becomes a bone-shattering clap of thunder when Gabriel sees Jihane’s just as affected. There’s the tell-tale holy glow to her eyes and scars, and a thin plume of smoke escapes her nose with every exhale.

Fuck it. Gabriel abandons the bowl and chucks it to the ground. Too hard, judging by the delicate crack and wet splash. Jihane hisses a word in Trinoran that must be a swear, but that’s all she gets out before Gabriel frames her heart-shaped face in his hands and pulls it closer. He noses at the divot above Jihane’s upper lip and inhales deep, groaning as he chases the holy smoke of her breath. Jihane wraps her clawed fingers around his wrists and squeezes, but if it’s meant to discourage him, it doesn’t, especially not with a moan—and more smoke—slipping between her painted lips.

It’s a cross between unfamiliar spices—cloves, cinnamon—and the familiar smells of a ship set to the flame, wood burning and crackling as it sinks to the Depths. Gabriel presses his lips to hers and kisses her like she’s a breath of air after diving in freshwater, desperate for the taste of her, grunting and squeezing his thighs together when Jihane gasps a mouthful of smoke into his. She releases one of his wrists to place her hand at the back of his head, pushing him down to her neck and redirecting his efforts. Gabriel’s all too happy to oblige, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, left drenched between the thighs twice over at the sultry groan it elicits from her.

All too soon, Jihane pulls back and keeps Gabriel at a distance with a hand on his chest, her own breath coming heavy.

“Fetch me another kliaquat.” Gabriel gropes for spoken language, words temporarily stolen. “Really? We’re still on that? Ain’t I done enough by now?”

Were it not the cause of some particular suffering on his part, he’d admire the way her expression changes in an instant, cool and imperious, eyes aglow with her god’s fire. “Do not make me ask again, Gabriel.”

He heaves an irritated sigh but does as she asks. His long reach means he only has to twist his torso and lean a bit to reach the table, rolling a pale blue fruit into his palm with his fingers and bringing it to Jihane.

She plucks it from his grasp, then lifts it to eye level, considering. It looks for all the world like a gem in its setting, perched in the cage of her golden claws. Jihane glances between Gabriel and the kliaquat, her icy expression melting into an amused grin.

“This was going to be another reward, but since you’ve decided to be difficult…”

With no warning, Jihane wields her claws like knives against the firm husk of the fruit and splits it in half—right above her spotless dress.

Instinct drives Gabriel forward, lunging from his kneel to cup his hands beneath Jihane’s. Mercifully, the iridescent juice seems to have missed the white, though flecks of it decorate the tops of her breasts and cheeks. Juice from the split pearls flows from the seam in the fruit, dripping into the cup Gabriel’s made of his hands.

There’s a problem, though. There’s also juice running down Jihane’s fingers in tiny rivulets from where she’s split the fruit. He can chart the course of it plain as day – it’ll drip from her forearms to her clothing before long. Except if he moves his hand, there’s going to be a stain whether he likes it or not.

He’s still got his mouth.

Gabriel hunches and starts lapping at Jihane’s wrists and fingers, chasing every drop of juice he can find. He outlines the sharp golden curve of her claws, the deep lines of her palms, the pulse point of her wrist with his tongue, his aim speed rather than seduction. Still, he’s not fast enough. By the time he finishes with her right hand, there’s juice streaming down her left forearm, following the runnels left by the scars of the Maw.

He switches hands and licks those too. He traces the webbing of scars with his tongue, warm kliaquat juice tinting every swallow. It occurs to him too late that he's lapping at her holy mark like a shipcat at a dish of cream, that maybe it might not be welcome. But as his tongue meets the point where her pulse and her scars intersect on the inside of her wrist, Jihane moans, low and urgent. Not unwelcome, then.

Gabriel’s sucking the juice from Jihane’s jeweled claws when she tosses half of the kliaquat aside in a careless flick. His lungs seize, worried all his work will have been for nothing, but the luxurious white fabric remains clean. Deciding he’s better safe than sorry, Gabriel places his mouth to the point where his wrists meet and tilts the makeshift bowl of his hands, slurping up the remnants of the juice before it can dribble through his fingers. When he looks up through his lashes at her, she moans softly, then lifts the remaining half of the fruit to his mouth.

“Eat.”

Watcher avert her all-seeing eye, Gabriel doesn’t hesitate.

Keeping his hands cupped beneath it, Gabriel descends on the fruit with lips and tongue and teeth, driven by multiple scorching heats: Jihane’s gaze, the ache of his cock, the pounding in his chest. He sucks seeds into his mouth, popping them with his tongue, one of his several thirsts quenched by the flood of spiced juice. Gabriel stays as careful as he can, taking seeds between his teeth, licking them out of their nestled pockets.

He stays careful all the way until Jihane slides her palm beneath his robe and up his inner thigh, only coming to a stop when the heel of her hand rests against his cock. With this angle, her claws rest dangerously close to his hole, and when she starts to rub her palm back and forth against him, each pass brings a delicious prick of pain against tender skin.

It wipes the conscious thought from his mind.

He devours the kliaquat like he needs it to live, rutting his hips against Jihane’s hand at the same time. Gabriel doesn’t bother separating seed and membrane; bitter pith and vibrant seeds mingle, barely chewed, swallowed whole. Juice covers his mouth and courses through his beard and down his neck, but he doesn’t care, his world narrowed to Jihane’s hand on his dick and her gaze on him as he eats from the palm of her hand.

It’s against her hand that he comes, moaning around a mouthful of seeds, cock pulsing as she rakes her claws through the soaked hair at the apex of his thighs. He barely manages to swallow before a moan escapes him, thighs clamped around Jihane’s hand as he rides out the aftershocks.

Dizzy, breathless, it takes him several long moments to look down.

He’s finished this half of the fruit… but dark orange splatters cover the white of Jihane’s dress. The pattern puts him in the mind of wounds, of bloodshed. Shame comes hot on the heels of his peak—at eating from her hand like an animal, at failing her task, at wanting to succeed in the first place, at feeling ready for a second climax no sooner than the first ended, at wanting to ply his tongue between her legs and satisfy a different hunger.

Jihane glances down, disappointment mingling with traces of lust on her features. She shakes her head softly, then pats Gabriel’s cheek with the same hand she had between his legs; he can smell his arousal on her fingers along with a metallic hint that might be his blood. “Now thank me, Scion-Captain, for the gift of pleasure I just gave you. By name, please.”

His pride puts up a valiant fight, but what with his defenses storm-battered and hole still clenching in the aftershocks, it loses. “Thank you, Jihane.” Jihane strokes his cheekbone with her thumb, anointing him with his own release. Then she holds her hand in front of his mouth expectantly, wrist loose and fingers draped low. By the time he finishes licking it clean of the most personal kind of salt price, his cheeks are burning and he’s hard all over again from the luxurious, shameful pleasure of it all.

For a foggy moment, Gabriel’s certain she won’t hold the stains against him. But even with his wits addled, there’s finality in the lingering kiss Jihane places on his twice-stained lips.

“For a first attempt, you did well. But I did warn you there’d be consequences for failure.” She stands, bearing regal, as though her dress and skin weren’t covered in kliaquat juice. “I need to change before my next engagement now, which means our time together is at an end. But I’ll have Sidqi come by to show you out, once you’ve had time to… collect yourself.” She gives his cheek a final, condescending pat, then winks. “I’ll see you at the Conflagration two days hence.”

All Gabriel can do is watch her, stunned, as she leaves, head high and hips swaying, her bare feet padding against the tiles of the pavilion. He watches until she vanishes into the west entrance to her estate, then surveys the damage around him: slick thighs, aching cock, stained clothes, discarded fruit, broken ceramic.

Fuck him six ways through all seven hells. Jihane may have won this round. But next time, next time…

He’ll demonstrate just what sort of command being the captain of the most notorious ship in the Fourfold Seas requires.

#the forsaken and the forsworn #gabriel berthelot #jihane n'ait #I haven't come up with a portmantaeu for these two even though they're canon since we've entered the poly part of this verse #my writing #happy birthday times two Gab #you deserve the whole world #and if you've made it through 11k of service submission and food kink #kudos to you #qliatori

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1,834

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

PART ONE

PART TWO 

She sat at the bar in an empty, hole in the wall watering hole listening to a song that she danced to in Havana years ago. It put her in a better mood thinking of the man she danced with. The man that had stolen her heart even though she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. The song and the memory of the man lessened the rage in the very same heart. She started to sway to the music with an impossibly sweet drink in her hand. Gabby couldn’t forget the predicament she was in and of course there was the man sitting beside her, sipping his beer

“Why don’t you drink?”

“Allergic reaction”

“Oh yeah?”

“I break out in hand cuffs”

Will didn’t believe her, but he let her get away with the lie. There was no doubt that Gabby was tough, but she wasn’t the normal type of tough. It wasn’t a rage filled tough. It was a stubbornness. It was a ‘watch me’ tough but as she sat beside him dancing to the music while still sitting her seat. She intrigued him.

“What’s with that smile?”

“Memories”

“Oh-uh”

“Knew a guy”

“Cuban?”

“Puerto Rican but we spent a lot of time in Cuba”

“Dancing in the streets?”

“Yeah. In Cuba, in Barcelona, Portugal”

“So he was smooth, huh?”

“You could say that” she laughed “Still is”

“What happened?”

“He’s an aid worker. It’s hard to keep a relationship going when you’re pulling people out of the pits a hell half the time and on the other side of the planet”

“I don’t know how you do it”

“I only did it for a moment in time. I’m too empathic. It took a lot out of me. Especially when we came across kids, you know? I want to adopt ‘em and take them all home. It doesn’t work that way”

“Now you organise?”

“Correct”

“I can see why Pope needs you. Even if he is an ass”

Gabby laughed pulling the tie out of her hair. The colour reminded him of a glass of red wine or maybe that was the green neon sign above her that was making it look that way.

“He is right about one thing”

“What’s that?”

“I do owe Frankie”

“From what I know. Which isn’t a lot. He was doing his job when he found you”

“No but he broke protocol. They deemed the mission too high risk. Especially where I was but he still did it. He could have been fired or lost everything. He didn’t even know me at the time”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way Gabby. He loves ya”

“Ugh” she sighed rubbing her forehead “Why did it have to be Costa Rojas?”

“We didn’t pick the target”

“Santiago did”

“Are you noticing a theme?”

“At least Costa’s base isn’t in Brazil. You’ve got some distance. How did you move the palettes anyway?”

“We had transit vans but the guys driving got shot up and so did the vans”

“So he dropped you off in the slums with that much money”

“No one living there would be dumb enough to steal it. Rojas knows that. They are also smart enough that if they see something they know thats not for them to know. They’re not going to talk”

“You’ve got me there”

“Did you really stab Andrews with a pocket knife?” he laughed asking

“He grabbed my ass repeatedly after I asked him not to do it. Damn straight I did”

“Why didn’t you tell Frankie?”

“I wanted Andrews to stop. I didn’t want him to die. Anyway. That was a long time ago”

“Even Pope would have stopped him” She gave him an epic eye roll which only made Will practically fall over laughing  “What is it with you two?”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve tried to get along with him. I swear but he does shit like this. He thinks he’s smarter than everybody. God, even his breathing sometimes grates on me. He’s the most self-important jerk I’ve ever met”

“We’re not meaning to turn your life upside down, Gabs”

“But didn’t you guys do this a few years ago. How much money is enough money?”

“We didn’t keep it, babe”

“What are you talking about?”

“We gave the money we did get away with to Tom’s kids. They don’t have to worry about anything anymore”

She looked him wide eyed and silent for maybe the first time since she landed.  Gabby shook her head before a stream of swear words flew out of her mouth.

“I hate this and now I hate you”

“Is that a yes?”

“I just don’t know how I can help you”

Will nodded his head understood where she was coming from. He got why she didn’t want to use anything with the non-profits name on it. They helped people that really needed it.

“We’re up a creek”

“Walking away isn’t an option?” she asked

“Nope”

“God damn it”

They’ll have to hide it and then move it and hide it while moving it. If Rojas found out their end wouldn’t be swift. She didn’t want that on her head. She needed something that the locals and authorises wouldn’t bat an eye at. She needed transportation and she needed it fast. Will watched the clogs in her head move fast, impossibly fast

“Gabs?”

She covered his mouth with her hand

 “Shh, I’m thinking”

She moved her hand and grabbed her phone before walking outside.

He watched her walk back and forth in the sidewalk for a while. Making calls, looking up this on her phone she popped her head back in the door.

“Hey handsome, do you know how to hot wire a car?”

“Yes”

“Let’s go but it’s not going to be a quick trip”

Will didn’t ask any questions. He just did what he was told. With women like Gabby that was the safest way to survive. That was truth in Will’s experience, at least.

 

 

#

 

Gabby and Will had been gone for five hours, the sun was dangerously close to rising and there hadn’t been no word from either of them. They knew that Will wouldn’t leave them, well he wouldn’t leave Benny. Frankie was starting to worry and Santiago was starting to curse her name, in his head at least.

“What if Rojas caught up with them?” Benny voice all their fears

“We would have heard by now” Santiago lied

“I shouldn’t have called her, Pope”

“Well, you did Frank and here we are. Will wouldn’t jump ship”

“Either would she, man”

“We have to come up with another plan”

“They will be here” Benny told them.

Suddenly an old beat up people mover stopped outside the favela. Two squeaky doors shut loudly before the missing two were standing back in their doorway

“Honey, we’re home” she told them slightly seductively

“Where have you been?”

“Cleaning up your mess, Garcia. You bozos wanna come help us unload?” She tossed an empty hessian coffee bean sack at him “We are in Brazil after all”

“What if they cut them open, Gabriela?”

“That’s why we stole full bags of coffee bean Also. Place the real beans on top of the bags full of money. They’ll cut into the bags we want to them to cut into”

“Two more van are showing up at five thirty this afternoon. So we have to move” Will told them.

“Leave ten grand out of the bags for the vans”

“Ten?”

“Yeah Garcia. For five grand we were going to get endless questions. Ten grand brought silence. You okay with that?”

“Guess I have to be”

“That’s what I like. Gratitude”

She rolled her eyes as he walked outside. Frankie stepped in front of her before pulling her into a hug

“Thank you”

“You’re still in trouble but I love you”

They both walked outside holding on to each other for dear life. Everybody quietly unpacked the van of empty bags. The tension that they had all been choking on was leaving them but Santiago just couldn’t help himself

“Where are we going to take this coffee when we are finished here, oh wise one?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet”

“If only someone knew some else in Puerto Rico” Will answered almost gleefully

“Nope”

“Sebastian” Frankie answered pointing at her

“No. We are not getting Seb involved”

“He would do it, Gab”

“Who’s Sebastian” Pope practically spat

“Her fella” Frankie teased

“He’s not my fella”

“Used to be”

“I don’t know where he is right now. He’s an aid worker for Christ’s sake. He could be anywhere”

“Could you find out though?” Will smiled.

“If any person is more connected than you. Its Seb” Frank pleaded

Gabby rolled her eyes before pulling her phone out of her pocket, playfully growling as she walked outside.

The group started packing the bags with cash as Santiago stood near the window, listening to the conversation. Her voice was softer, you could hear the affection as she spoke. That was until she walked around the corner.

He walked over to Frankie

“Can we trust this guy?”

“Absolutely”

“I don’t like it”

“We are going to need more people to get this home and he would do anything for her. He’s a good guy. You wanted her for her connections, right?”

There was an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they continued loading the cash. Before she was standing in the doorway again.

“Bad news is that he is in Honduras. Good news is that if we can get to Venezuela. He can store it for us until we make other plans”

“How much did you tell him?” Santiago asked, probably sharper than he intended

“I said that we are in trouble, and it was a no questions situations”

No one said anything.

She hadn’t slept, she was at the end of her tether and likely to blow. Instead of sleeping, she packed bags with cash.

#

There were three beat up, different colours vans rolled up at five thirty. Gabby paid an elderly man the money and waited until they were long gone before the guys packed the vans.  She lent up against the green building. She tried to help the guys carry the bags, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

Once everything was carefully packed. Dummy coffee beans placed on top and around, they all felt a tiny bit better. Maybe it was being on the move that made them feel safer. There was still just under five days of driving ahead of them.

Although the thought of seeing Sebastian at the end of all of it made her feel better.

She was pale, she was tired, and she was trying to cover it. 

Everybody piled into the vans before Frankie stood in front of her picking her up at the knees, tossing her over his shoulder

“I wanna drive”

“No way. You haven’t slept in a day. Forget it. You’re a passenger, Princess”

“Ugh” 

He placed her in the car and she was asleep by the time they left the city

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #santiago garcia x oc #santiago garcia #romanticism #will miller #ben miller #benny miller #frankie morales #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #netflix #the chain