By far my favorite thing about this year was working on my Overwatch faerie designs. They have made me so happy. There are still quite a few characters to go! (I have heard your pleas for McCree and Roadhog, I swear!! haha)
Imagine the prophecy is fulfilled and Emma dies. Regina, grief stricken, buys a ouija board after seeing a movie about it and doing her own research.
“Emma Swan, I’m trying to contact Emma Swan. Are you here, Emma?”
Nothing happens for awhile and Regina sits in silence, holding her breath until slowly, the pendulum moves over the YES at the top of the board.
Regina releases a burst of air from her lungs. Skeptical though, Regina asks “How do I know it’s really you, Miss Swan?”
The cursor immediately flew to the NO on the board. Regina furrowed her eyebrows. “No? No what?”
The cursor moved again, down the alphabet. Regina read each letter out loud. “D O N T C A L L M E T H A T.”
“Don’t call me that.” Regina was confused for a moment until she realized she has just called Emma “Miss Swan”. She knew Emma hated it. She laughed lightly though tears pricked her eyes. The stupid idiot. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
She was here. Her Emma was truly here. Even though Henry had told her his other mother had never left, that she was always with them, Regina needed this confirmation. She needed this sense of closeness. She also needed to know why. Why Emma had beat her own fate, her own prophecy and then jumped in front of the sword that was destined for Regina. That idiot.
“You’re an idiot.” Regina said, choking back her own tears. Willing herself not to show this weakness. But she had mourned too long silently, keeping this all to herself. Emma was the one she shared everything with and now she was gone. Until now. Kind of.
The pendulum moved to the “YES” after Regina called her an idiot which forced the tears down Regina’s cheeks.
“Why did you do that, Emma? Why did you not let me die?”
The pendulum moved across the board.
“H E N” Regina cut it off, suddenly frustrated, her emotions getting the best of her. “Oh, don’t you dare say Henry Emma Swan or I swear to god.”
The pendulum stayed still and Regina tried to collect herself. Deep breaths. Finally, the curser began to move. “I H A D T O.”
“I had to.” Regina repeated. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Leave it to Emma to tip toe around giving her clear answers, even in death.
Regina sighed. She needed to know. She had heard the Pirate going off on a drunk rant at Granny’s a few weeks after Emma’s death, about how he knew all along that Emma would always choose Regina over him, that Emma would always love Regina more than she loved him. It hit Regina like a punch in the gut, been gnawing at her brain ever since. She had loved Emma Swan. Deeply. But the idea of the other woman ever returning those feelings felt so foreign to Regina she never felt the need to bring it into fruition. Until now.
With shaky breath Regina finally asked, “Was it because…. you loved me?”
The electricity in the room changed, the atmosphere feeling charged in only a way Emma Swan could make it feel around Regina. The pendulum stayed still but Regina knew Emma was still with her. Stubbornly still with her.
“I’ll ask you again, Em-Ma, did you sacrifice yourself for me because you love me?”
Slowly, the pendulum moved, the sound it made as it crossed the board was so loud in that moment it was almost deafening.
Y E S
“Yes.” There were the tears again, freely rubbing down Regina’s face as she openly sobbed now. Openly mourned the loss of the woman she loved and the ending to her story that once again ended in tragedy.
“Since when?” Regina sniffed.
A L W A Y S
Regina choked on a sob. “I am so sorry, Emma. So, so sorry. I love you, too. Please know that. I know…. I know I always called you an idiot but truly, the only idiot here is me. I’m so sorry, Emma. I love you too. I always have and– and probably always will. Will you ever forgive me?”
Without hesitation the curser moved to the YES.
Another sob escape just in time for the front door to slam and for Henry’s voice to echo through the house, “Mom!? You here?!”
“Our son and his timing.” Regina really wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Emma yet. There wasn’t enough time. There never was enough time.
Emma seemed to understand, the air around Regina felt calming, understanding, safe.
The curser began to move.
H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y
Regina smiled for the first time in the long weeks since that night. “You remembered.”
“A L W A Y S” Emma spelt before moving the cursor over GOODBYE.
…a loved one, a sweetheart(well, more like the devil lol); both dear to one’s heart.
Oops, this is late– I started this when I got back from work last night but I fell asleep midway drawing it ^_^; Since I’m already late, I decided to take some time to make it look a bit more nicer!
It could of done with a few more panels but… X_x There was a scene I had in mind where the mother knows about the jacket because she’s the one who does the laundry in the house :P Oh yeah, can’t forget about that big sandwich! XD
I did the next page of this short concept comic, this time I changed a couple of things and realized a few problems. 1. Clip studio does not have the option to not loop animation (like I originally thought), 2. Gifs can’t handle gradients.
But I’ve decided that this format will be the final format, I love the way it looks and I enjoy drawing it. (I also forgot Skully’s flame in the last panel, oops). Thank you for everyone who left feedback, and enjoyed the comic, expect more soon!
WANT TO SEE MORE COOL STUFF! Support my Patreon if you like my artwork and get a ton of exclusive content,
Patreon: [https://www.patreon.com/lunaartgallery] Thank you~!
Okay, apparently it is “canon” that Magnus went to Spain to learn to control his powers. BUT I call BULLSHIT on that because that implies that there were zero warlocks who could train him in Indonesia so…
The reason he uses two fingers in his magic is because of his Indonesian Warlock trainers- they taught him that magic isn’t a tool or a weapon but another limb. A part of him.
As a result, he doesn’t have to work as hard at “controlling” it as some of his western trained friends
He’s way better at sensing other warlock’s magic in his territory because they taught him about the community of magic. How it isn’t about the individual and each spell cast enters the Warlock into a broader community.
They teach him the truth: Warlocks aren’t really “immortal.” They can’t outlast the sun, outlive the species. There will never be a billion-year-old warlock. There are barely any warlocks over a thousand years old. As a Warlock ages, their magic gets more powerful and eventually it circles back into a type of cancerous destruction.
A healthy, able warlock will probably live around five thousand- seven thousand years.
They teach him not to mourn that: everything that is created must eventually be destroyed
They teach him to not use his magic for destruction, or death. They teach him he should protect himself, but he never goes out of his way to end human life. They teach him instead how to use his magic to heal, to create, to protect. They actually teach him how to create wards which are more powerful than traditional European magic.
He actually doesn’t go into battle, because he goes slowly. He doesn’t shoot to kill (which is quick), he aims to injure and subdue, which takes more time.
Only against humans obviously, he kills demons because their only purpose is to cause destruction
//You throw your head back, letting your body move with the music. The speakers are obviously low quality, and the bass is turned up so much that your ribcage is vibrating with every beat. It’s exhilarating. You don’t know how long you’ve been dancing; maybe an hour, maybe four; it doesn’t matter. What matters is the music, moving along with your hips, and the gaze of the cat eyed boy sitting at the bar. He’s been staring at you for a while now, and you can feel the burn of his attention in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes meet, and he’s suddenly up and coming towards you. As soon as he reaches you, he leans into your ear and whispers “Do you want to get out of here?” You simply nod your head and let him take you away. Instead of bringing you to his car, or a shabby motel nearby, like you thought he would, the boy - Joshua - takes you on a stroll in the city. Your ears are still resonating from the club’s loud music, and your vision is blurry from the alcohol you’ve consumed. You pass dark alleys and shops with bright facades and everything seems to highlight Joshua and his feline gaze. You end up at the highest point of the city, very far away from where you started. You stare out at the city, bright and beautiful under the dark sky. You can barely see the stars, but the lights from the buildings are almost as beautiful as them. You look at Joshua, and he looks at you, and you realize that the night is even louder than any dingy and cramped club.
//request: - hi- could i request a night life/night busking aesthetic for joshua pls? tysm – Jisauce anon /)///(\
hello all!! it’s a new year which means i’ve had this blog for about half a year which is insane bc i don’t know what i did before this 😂 anyway i am still amazed by the kindness, sweetness and general loveliness of everyone and i can’t believe i have any followers at all let alone over 200 💕 thank you to everyone who made me feel welcome and the few that talked to me despite my awkwardness (thats something i wanna work on in 2017) and to everyone that still tags me in things bc i can never tire of tag games. emosh rant aside here’s everyone that brightens my dash and pulls me further into the kpop trash can i honestly love you all 😘😘 (ps sorry in advance if i missed ppl out or got stuff wrong im not a technology whizz so this took me ages)
There were times Kurt questioned why he ever married this nerd he calls the love of his life.
One such a time was an ordinary night. They were already shirtless, panting, working on belt buckles and zippers and stepping out of their shoes as they moved towards their bedroom. It was the desperate sort of hunger they were told would go away once they’d been married. They both were very happy to note they’d been lied to.
Kurt was particularly starving, wound tight from a long week and wanting nothing more than to be taken apart. He said this through moans and sighs and clutching hands. Blaine wanted words.
“Tell me what you want, Kurt,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of Kurt’s ear. Kurt whined. “You have to tell me.”
Kurt kept shoving gracelessly at Blaine’s waistband. “Blaine. Please.”
Blaine grabbed at Kurt’s hands with one of his, bringing Kurt’s hands up to his chest. “Hold tight, hold tight.” There was a slight shift in Blaine and something in Kurt’s stomach sank. “Ooh baby hold tight.”
“Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it, any way you want it!”
Kurt groaned, not in a good way, and threw himself backwards onto the bed. His husband continued singing, doing a touch-step in front of the bed.
Kurt hiked himself up on his elbows, glaring at Blaine. “I can’t believe you would do that to me after what I told you about Sophomore glee club. IT WILL ALWAYS KILL MY BONER, BLAINE!”
Blaine laughed, continuing to snap and touch-step even when he paused singing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry.” His laugh was bright and happy, completely unbothered that he’d stopped sex to make that joke. “Just call me Bilbo, because that was an unexpected Journey.”
Kurt groaned again, covering his eyes with his hands. “What does that even mean?”
Kurt took his hands off his eyes when he heard Blaine stop moving. He was frozen mid-snap, gawping at Kurt. “An Unexpected Journey? Like the movie?”
Blaine’s look grew more horrified. “The Hobbit!” At Kurt’s continued blank stare, Blaine leapt for his hand and pulled him back out towards the living room. “Okay, we’re watching that right now.”
Kurt made a noise in his throat. “What about what we were just doing?!”
Blaine looked at him solemnly. “This is more important.”