⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood On The Second Drawing

I don't really post a lot of things but I wanted to draw something about those two characters. I'm not a very good artist but I really admire the talent of bun-bunmuse and Flotts for drawing and colors. I don't own anything : Swapfell belongs to @bun-bunmuse and Maestro belongs to @phaunicier

[Traduction] It is in darkness that light reveals its beauty

Chapter 5 : O Flower of Scotland !

When they arrived to Dingwall, Desmond hopped from the train and looked around, yawning a bit. This train trip had been rather long considering how far they now were from London and from England. They had taken a small train to go to Victoria Station before taking another very long one to go to Edinburgh, and he had been taking some time to sleep since his night had been pretty rough until now. It was also during that time that his father and Raymond had been discussing the idea of renting a house together and find a job to ease their expenditures. Desmond vaguely remembered something about Ray's mother and how he had explained the whole story to them.

His mother owned a small cottage near Cullicudden, a quarter of hour long trip in car was necessary to go there from Dingwall but it was always closer than anything considering trains couldn't go where there was no railroads. Also, there was another reason Ray wanted to stop to Dingwall. His mother was being employed as a domestic by a very rich family living in Dingwall and her cottage was not inhabited most of the time, that was why she had asked his son to come back to Scotland someday, to help her with the house since she was living in the same mansion as her masters. "The cottage is away from any big city, very few neighbours and good air indeed", that was how Raymond had described it and, somehow, after a good hour of thinking about it, Leon was rather opened to such an idea. And he knew that life could be expansive when you were raising a little boy as a father, and alone. Just thinking about Rachel and how she would've wanted her boys safe and sound, living a normal life, had been enough to convince him to give it a try.

Once in Edinburgh, they had to take another train to Iverness, but before doing so they stopped to buy some coats considering the weather was being less clement than in London, and Leon and Desmond hadn't brought one since they had to leave in a hurry. It wasn't winter yet, so they had some time to buy everything they needed. Only Raymond seemed unbothered by the very wet air coming from his homeland, and in fact he was almost happy to come back home. Desmond had been very interested in the landscape and even though it wasn't his first time traveling somewhere –his parents once travelled to Nazca, in Peru, when he and Theodore were younger– he was a bit nervous since this time they had some evil guys trying to look for them in order to take them away to a very bad place. Scotland was very much different from what he thought it would be, and hearing everyone's accent was enough to trouble him a bit at first. But he had been more than excited when they saw the Loch Ness when changing train again in Iverness. He even had the time to see the castle a bit and eat an ice cream !

Finally, after a whole travelling day, they were finally done and getting out of the station. The evening was near and they had not eaten much, merely two sadnwiches and an ice cream for the boy. But with a smile Raymond told them not to worry, that his mother would be more than happy to take them to diner tonight.

–Still, Leon had said, I don't want to impose my presence and Desmond's to her... and if she's kind enough to allow us to stay in her cottage, I might at least be the one offering her a diner.

–Oh, trust me, sassenach, try to offer to pay and ye'll be facin' a beast ! She'll never accept it. Trust me, A've tried twice. And she scolded me in the middle of the restaurant as if A was still a toddler !

Desmond chuckled a bit and was already picturing a little woman scolding that biker as if he was but a child. Leon smiled when he saw him being a bit more joyful than usual. This was enough to make his heart lighter for a few moment. Ray let them for a short moment, going to take back his motorbike which had traveled with them, in a wagon dedicated to these heavy things. Leon rolled his eyes when he saw that Scottish lad being almost in live this his engine.

–Come on, it's just a vehicle ! It's not some kind of wonder.

Raymond gasped and exaggerated his reaction just to make the boy smile again, boy who was really intrigued by such a mechanical prowess.

–It's not "just a vehicle" sassenach ! It's a Norton Model 40 International 350cc 1 cylinder from 1938 ! A've restored it ! T'was me dad's.

–How does it work ?

Desmond had sparkles in his eyes and he was hopping around the vehicle trying to figure out how it was possible for such a thing to be driven by someone on the road. Leon sighed, not knowing how to react to Desmond's enthusiasm since he didn't like mechanical stuff much. He was a more... traditional man regarding technology and mechanics. And he was barely capable to use a television so he wasn't an expert regarding the topic.

–Well, maybe he can explain it to you once we've seen his mother. How do we do that ? We wait for the end of her service or what ?

Raymond took a peek at his watch and thought about it for a minute.

–OK, well... I'll take her at her job, it's almost October's holidays for her, they always give her Samhain.

–Sowhat ?

The Scottish man sighed again and rolled his eyes, pulling his motorbike to follow as they were walking together.

-It's pronounced "Soween", and it's... well, 31st of October. The All Hallows eve, if ye prefer. Go on, have some nice walk time or go to the park, A'll join ye here with me mom. Sounds good ? There's also a few shops. To get yerself a Scots dictionary. Because ye'll need it.

He chuckled and winked to Desmond, promising him a nice ride later, and he made the motor roar before flying away to a very big mansion, away from the city center, and the more he was getting closer and the more his smile was fading. What he hadn't said Leon about all this was that he wasn't exactly in good touch with his mother and he wanted to go there forst to try to talk to her. Last time he had seen her, it was another glorious argument they had, about family mostly, and he has had very harsh words to her, before leaving like a thief, without even saying goodbye. By now he has had enough time to think about it and he regretted a good portion of what he said six years ago. That large amount of time was also the reason he hasn't told Leon about his relationship with his mother. Because at this point he didn't even know if she was willing to talk to him anymore.

He had written him letters 2 years ago, if you can call that writing a letter considering he's done nothing but traces a few line on the paper, for Christmas, All Hallows Eve, New Year's Eve, Easter, her birthday, etc. Just a few lines, and she had never responded to any of them for the simple reason he's been avoiding to leave any address to reply. His life wasn't the most glorious one and by now he was really regretting it, trying to make up for things he's been too stubborn to apologise for.

Without him realising it, his motorbike had almost ridden itself alone, bringing him right to main gates of the big mansion where his mom was working. He sighed and entered the property, leaving his engine near the portal gates, and proceeded to go up the alley to reach for the doors and knock on them, disdainful enough not to ring the bell. He wasn't used to ring bells anyway, he preferred the simple knocking, bells were some fancy way to summon someone and he didn't like it.

A young woman came soon after, looking at him with red cheeks and a shy smile across her face.

–Good evening sir... Who may I announce ?

–Hi, huh... well, A'm not here to see Lord McGregor, A'm lookin' fer me mother, Maighread, is she workin' or does she have... ye know, a few minutes ?

The young lady though seemed a bit troubled by his accent, for sure she was probably not used to Scots and Scottish accent either since the master of this old creaky mansion was trying to speak as "normally" as possible.

–I deeply apologise but... May-who ?

–Maighread, me mom. Ye know her surely, a li''le woman, heavy brown hair, she's the one in charge of the whole domestics here A think.

This time the lady figured it out and her eyes seemed to lighten up.

–Oh, I see ! You're looking for Mà Bannag ! Everyone calls her like that, she always bakes the most wonderful pies !

Ray sighed, a bit nostalgic, and thought that this nickname was truly fitting his mother. He nodded and offered the maid his most charming smile.

–Would ye be kind enough to allow me to see her ? The day's almost done, and A need to talk to her...

Being put in front of such a charming man, the woman blushed again and chuckled like an adorable chick before allowing him to enter and asking him to wait in the hall while she was going to bring Maighread in.

Ray looked around, not that impressed by such a decorum displayed through this hall. Big wooden interior, sculptures, old architecture, dark wooden stairs and ceilings, some tapestries which colours were slowly being less and less shiny considering they were older than everyone in this mansion, some carpets, everything making this house wealthy was only the furniture while the house itself was creaking each time there was a windy day. The man had lived there, with his mother and father, in the domestic aisle, most of his life, before leaving when he was a teen. He knew this corridors like no one else and he also remembered some nice little pranks he did to his parents when he was hidden in the library secret passage. A bit cliche but always worked. The thought was enough to bring a smile on his face but it quickly vanished when he heard the voice of an old man coming from up the stairs.

–It's been a while since last time you came here...

Raymond barely looked up, he wasn't much impressed by the old lord and his grey hair, grey moustache, grey tuxedo and severe figure. In fact, all that was filling his eyes right now was animosity.

–A'm not here to talk to ye. A'm here for me mà.

The old lord seemed to feel some heavy pressure on his shoulder and he looked away. Even his voice seemed less full of assurance.

–She should be here soon, I saw Maggie, the maid who introduced you in, rushed to the domestic aisle... ... you know, if I can do something, I-

But Raymond shook hisbhead and interrupted him right away.

–A want nothin' comin' from ye. And don't ye dare bring Maighread into this. Ye've done enough already, don't ye think ?

The old man sighed but replied nothing. Instead, he only nodded and went away, coming back to his room, just a moment before a shaky voice came to Ray's ears. He turned with a small smile hanging on his lips and waited anxiously for the little woman to come closer, uncertain how to react.

In front of his, his mother was looking at him, her hazel eyes wide opened. Her dark wair was tied into a severe bun but her cheeks and wrinkles at the corner of her eyes were indicating a very joyful woman. She was a bit skinnier than last time Ray had seen her and she had aged indeed. Her hands were shaking because of how unreal the moment seemed to be to her and her uniform, her apron indeed, was covered in flour. The man sighed and messed with his own hair, embarrassed and not knowing what to say. Suddenly his mind had gone blank.

–Hey.... huh... well... hi mà...

The old woman didn't let him say anything else and rushed to hug him tight, happy like she had rarely been. Since she was littler, he had to lean a bit but he didn't complain and hugged her back.

–Mo mac ! Balach beag, A've been so worried, me boy !

If anyone wondered where that young man got his accent from, then the answer was his mother, because she was the one always using this soft voice and little words to speak with her son. Even Ray's father had less of an accent than her !

–Ye are insufferable, young man ! Do ye know how very few informations ye put in yer letters ? A didn't even know if ye were doin' fine or not !

–A'm fine, mà... A just... well... A just had... rough days back then... A'm sorry...

A mother would always be a mother and this one knew her som very well. She backed away a bit, softly put her hands on both his cheeks and look him in the eyes with a worried frowned wrinkling her forehead.

–Yer eyes tell a lot, mo mac... Ye'll explain to me later ?

Raymond sighed and looked away. Maighread sighed too and kissed his forehead before smiling.

–I know ye're not here without a reason... do ye mind helping me grab me things ? Then ye'll tell me all about it, sounds fair ?

For how much Raymond wanted to be serious and for how much guilty he was feeling for the past few years, he cracked a smile and followed his mother. This little reunion had been going rather well but the main topic wasn't even brought on the table yet, they would need a long conversation, preferably with a cherry or a good whiskey.

–Yeah... let's go... Care fer a ride on me motorbike ?

–A thought ye'd never ask !

-> First chapter

-> Previous chapter

-> Next chapter

Chapter 2 : The man on the motorbike

Desmond was upstairs, in his room, reading a book he had borrowed to his father about archaeology and Azran stuff. Donald Rutledge was the only well-known expert as it seemed that had written a book so detailed and so complete about this civilisation, and it was incredibly thin regarding how advanced such people must have been. However, every information about them was good to take, and when he would grow up, he would be helpful to his father, he would find back his brother and his mother, and he would make sure his family would be complete again. So, while his father was out for groceries, he could borrow his books and look at his research a bit without worrying him too much.

However, the more the time was passing by and the more Desmond was beginning to worry since his father hadn’t come home yet. Each time he would go to London, the boy was always worried he would be caught by some undercover agents, or spotted, or lost, or worst, and since his father was the only family he had left, he was more than worried in fact, he was terrified that someone could take him away from him one more time.

Just when he thought he would go to the shop down the street, too afraid to stay alone again, he heard the sound of a motorbike running outside and then stop near the house, while two people seemed to be bickering about something.

–For God’s sake, you truly are insane when you ride that… that… that machine !

It was his father’s voice ! Without thinking twice, he quickly put the book back on the shelf in his father’s working room and he quickly came down the stairs to go to the hall, hearing things more clearly and suddenly pausing in front of the door. Wait, if his father was speaking to someone… then who would it be ? And why were they so angry at each other ?

–Oh, shet up, sassenach, A’m perfec’ly able to drive that beauty anywhere, with or without yer commentary !

Without waiting much longer, Leon sighed, got down the motorbike and quickly entered the house to look for his son… almost falling on him when he saw the youngest behind the door, anxiously looking at it.

–Hershel- !

He kneeled and took his son in his arms before hugging him tight, relieved to see that he was doing fine. Since Targent first came to their house, he has had some sleepless nights making sure they were never around their location, and the whole event left him almost paranoid about it. Losing his son would be the last strike of a dagger inside his poor broken heart.

–I’m sorry, I was so worried… Everything is alright my boy ?

Desmond was getting more worried himself since his father’s behaviour was everything but normal.

–Dad ?… What happened ?

But, as soon as he saw the other man getting down the motorbike, he took a few steps back and looked less of a child all of the sudden, completely analysing the manners of this new face. The same age his father, approximatively, not so tall, not a friend, a perfect stranger, strong Scottish accent, not really serious right now, and too much at ease. How could he be so relaxed and how on earth could his father be coming home with such an individual ?

–Who is he, dad ?

The Scottish man looked at the young boy, with a puzzled expression engraved on his face. He didn’t know exactly why but he had been driving this strange English man to his home because he heard him called his son. He had done it because of the light tremolo in his voice, because of the worry of this man for his child, because Targent was everything but merciful with children, and because somehow this man seemed truly pathetic. Of course.

–Hey, balach beag, how’s yer day ?

–Who are you ?

Desmond snapped before getting in front of his father, between both men, not ready to let anyone enter their home to take anyone away. His little hands were trembling like crazy but he stood his ground and was trying to look as intimidating as possible.

–I-If you’re there to hurt my dad, t-then you’ll have to go… to go through me f-first !

–Hershel…

Leon sighed and his expression grew more guilty. It was because of him if Hershel was behaving like this, trying to put all that pressure on his shoulder rather than just letting his father bear it. It was because he hadn’t been able to protect either Rachel nor Theodore. Because of Targent, they were forced to live like outcasts, always hiding, never trusting anyone but themselves, and moving from place to place to make sure never to be caught since that bloody organisation knew he was the archaeologist with the most extended comprehension of this bloody Azran civilisation. All of this, it was because of him.

Slowly, he took Hershel’s arm and stood up to ask him silently to do or say nothing too harsh.

–It’s fine, my boy, he helped me coming home.

–Aye, and we met at-

–We met at the grocery shop, interrupted Leon before the lad could finish his sentence.

It was not necessary to worry Hershel more than he already was. But the boy looked at his father, then stared at the man and at his motorbike. Then she shook his head with a very sad expression.

–Dad, you brought no groceries… And you were way too shaken when you hugged me. Please, tell me the truth… Do we have to move out again ?

This was also a subtle way to ask, in front of that stranger, if Targent had found them again. Leon sighed again, deeply ashamed of himself and how bad of a father he was.

–I… I think so… But it would just be a precaution, to be sure-

The Scottish man, however, was still there and he was a bit embarrassed, because it was somehow a very good delusion if the English man would hope to stay near London while having been spotted so close to his location.

–Hum, A don’t mean to int’rupt ye but… Ye better go far from London. In the deep countryside, mate. Because they’ve found ye around, and they won’t give up. It's as braid as it's lang, ye can’t stay here.

Leon stared at the man and his dark red eyes seemed even darker.

–I think we had an agreement. I thank you for the help but as you remember, you have to go back to your place already.

The man in leather jacket raised an eyebrow, then sighed and rolled his eyes.

–A've no jist come up the Clyde on a bike, ye know ? Targent never gives up, do they ?

Desmond opened wide eyes.

–Wait- you know about them ? Dad, what’s going on here ?

–Nothing Hershel, our friend was on the departure anyway, right, « mate » ?

The man sighed again. They were off their heid, no doubt, but anyway he couldn’t get involved with them. For how much he would hate a child to get into troubles, he couldn’t allow himself to be close to people. He almost paid it too highly years ago. But for now he had at least to spend the night in this little town since it was beginning to be late and his motorbike had run out of gas.

–Ok, ok… A’ll leave, but… at least, do ye know where A can take some rest ? A didna get a blink o sleep last nicht. Is there an inn ? a hotel ? something ? where A can spend the nicht ?

Despite not being very fund of the idea to help a total stranger, Leon gave him an address down the street of a very good inn ready to find him a room for the night. However, the salutations were short and quick. Once alone in their house, Hershel and his father were staring at each other with guilty frowns, knowing perfectly well that tomorrow they would have to move out again, as soon as possible. Even if Leon didn’t know nor like that Ray guy, he was right at some point. They couldn’t stay here and certainly not so close to London if some agents have had spotted them. Without another word, they went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat, but the silence filling up the air was way heavier than a lead ceiling.

———

In town, “Ray” had found the address of the inn the “legal grave-digger” had told him about, and once he was certain his motorbike was already full of gas, he parked it somewhere in the street -just below the window of the room he had been given for the night- and finally sit in front of a desk on which there were a bottle of single malt whiskey, a pen and a blank sheet of paper. He looked at it for a few minutes while taking a pipe out of his jacket inner pocket, filling it with tobacco before lighting it up and taking a few puffs. After some other long minutes during which he wasn't certain to agree wih his own mind, he finally decided to take the pen to write something down but, as soon as he wrote the name of a person on the top of it, he stopped and let go of the pen with an upset little snappy move of the wrist.

–Feck...

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, reflecting on the past few years and on his choices. Things were hardly nice these days. First, he had thought he could win over a bunch of idiots a few amount of money by cheating at card games and drinking a bit in a town he wasn't supposed to be. But then that man came here in a Scottish pub to get wasted even though he was supposed to... go get some groceries ? for his little boy ? How was it even possible that such coincidence and such ill omen were disposed to be put like this on his way ? And now Targent was back. And they have noticed someone, and now no matter whoever it was, him or the sassenach, now they were both involved because they had fled together. This was suspect enough, and when these assholes would look into their archives, they would remember those faces. His, and the sassenach's.

He sighed and took another puff from his pipe before folding the paper and make it come closer to a lighten match before looking at the paper burn to ashes into the ashtray. When the name on it disappeared, he stood up, went to his window and opened it to lean on the threshold and look at the starsky while smoking. The night wouldn't be long...

....

Or maybe not.

What were these shadows running behind the houses and in the streets ?

The Scottish man frowned. A few years ago he would never have noticed this kind of details but now he was more than aware this was everything but a nice thing and even more... it was a very worrying thing. He looked at them crawling in the shadows and then opened wide eyes.

-Oh feck !

He grabbed his jacket, turned off his pipe in a hurry and rushed out of the Inn. These people were heading to the sassenach's house.

-> First chapter

-> Next chapter

Got bored and stressed like crazy these past few days and I really needed to focus on something nice and cosy so I went back drawing that girl ahah ><

I know it is of no valuable interest but still, it feels vetter to share it rather than to let it rot inside my phone as a nameless screenshot ahah X'3

Anyway, if Bill possesses Rania, this could be what would happen to her. She'd be somehow granted the gift of seeing it all, like a cosmic being, part of the stars and somehow becoming a constellation herself. However, she'd still get used by Bill as some henchwoman, to help him assure his dominance on Gravity Falls by hunting down every member of the Zodiac to stop people from trying to stop him.

In this version of the story, Ford escapes the bell tower with Dipper and hides with everyone else in the Shack. After Rania is sent there to capture them all, everyone splits and tries to hide away from her huntress form.

The more she is transformed like this and the more she loses herself and what makes her human, like sympathy, empathy, sadness, attachment etc. She's still Rania, but under a layer of complex feelings, so one would have to dig up her very core-self to bring her back to normal and to reason.

Her capacities include creating wormholes to move, like teleportation, and some sort of blackholes that are like pocket-timeless-prisons in which she keeps her "preys" until she get them locked up at the Fearamid.

As a literature student, I assure you this is absolutely true ! It's mostly how writers guide their readers and the reading of a book.

Writing is NOT made of pure talent, it is mostly learning, how to compose with the language to create something that make sense and that can touch the person of the reader.

Personnaly, I think this is the best thing about writing, you can communicate something to someone with words ! That, that's why I love literature ♡

my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now

Alright so it is my turn X3 I don't really have a file of wip for drawings, because I work mostly on my phone and I can't do that BUT ! I have way too much things regarding writing X3 in French sooo sorry but not translated ><

OK, so, we've got :

La Mer ( "The Sea", in French )

Castigat ridendo mores ( a common latin formula for theatre "correct moral by laughing" )

Lady Macbeth ( about ghosts basically X3)

Captain Blood ( about translation )

Fic Layton ( two or three things in there X3 )

Translation Wandering Castle

Thieves and gentlemen ( this thing is in english though X3 )

Les Fleurs du mal ( "The Flowers of evil" (?), Charles Baudelaire, French poet )

Les Sept miroirs des anges ( "The Seven mirrors of angels" )

And I think this is all X3 I dunno who to tag so let's invite everyone who wants to do so X3 Hope I didn't deceive too much people ><

WIP Tag Game

no one actually tagged us this time, but since we have about a million WIPs atm i wanted to resurrect this thing :-)

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Falcon 3

Fantasy Romcom Buddy Trip (A Salt-Stained Dawn)

Four Crooked Branches

What the House Remembers

Codebreakers

The Dark-Eyed Dandy

Thread the Needle

The Diviner’s Hand

Knowledge Hunters Rewrite

The Ring and the Ribbon

Reality Show Divorcees (Syndicated Vows?)

Coffee Alchemist

Seventh Summer

Kirkie Taylor and the Graveyard Shift

battle of the bands type story

i do NOT know that many people however i WILL be tagging @professor-glasses, @solstice110, @verdantclouds, @bossdatomi, @mortallychaotickingdom, @cain-shuga, @simminglytimeladies, @felix-krain, @exaggeratedmisconduct, @freedomending, and 5 more volunteers from the audience

I tried my best to do something correct X3 so here it is ! Hope you will enjoy it, I really had fun drawing your fiery Artemis ^w^

@mortallychaotickingdom

Happy pride month everyone !

So now let's recap something very important I should have mentionned on this account :

Whoever you are, gay, bi, pan, ace, aro, cis, hetero, trans, non-binary, you will always be welcome here !

And always remember this : you are VALID ! And whoever tells you otherwise is a jerk.

So happy pride month, be proud, be yourself and be welcomed here ^^

Hello Hello, I remembered I had began to do something like this a long time ago aaaaaaaand then my phone crashed and I had nothing left but this small part of it ><

I know it's not much and the quality of it is trash but hey, better post it now before losing everything !

Song : "Je dors sur des roses", Mozart l'Opéra Rock

Dunno, wanted to draw something sad and a bit shattered about a game I just discovered again thanks to a friend.

Since Bronev and Desmond do have the same look and the same eyes, guess his reflection isn't something he likes to see, especially his eyes.