#(If only I knew how to draw you with justice LOL)

[shirefantasies]

Hey, babes!

Honestly I have brain rot for the idea of the ‘woman of the group does sexy dance to help mission’ trope and like LOTR boys. I also have brain rot for them hearing her sing ‘I Wanna Make Love To You’ by Etta James.

Anyway can I request the elves reactions to reader do a sexy burlesque/strip style dance? Like they in the audience and how they’d react.

By elves I mean: Elrond, Lindir, Thranduil, Legolas, Haldir and Arwen

OK I’M YELLING (I went ahead n threw our girl Galadriel in there cuz gotta catch em all right? 😁) there’s not really a mission lol but hope this does it justice! My latest D&D session the other night ended with burlesque performance so this feels like the perfect time to post this hehe

The Elves Reacting to F!Reader’s Burlesque Performance

Warnings: suggestive obviously 😆

Thranduil

Sure, he knew you’d all but been dared to set foot upon the stage, but something in your resolute expression and the long robe you wore had Thranduil’s eyebrows raising. Nary did he expect the way your hand shot out, grabbing the pole the moment the lights dimmed, or the way your robe dropped, revealing the lowest-cut, highest-slit dress he’d ever seen you in. Breath hitching, he watched as a long wave of fabric draped between your gorgeous legs, which wrapped around the pole as you climbed it. Eyes darkening as you spun, he could hardly help imagining what, or whom, else they could wind around so, and if he would ever be so blessed to see the confident air overtaking you again…

Legolas

Frowning, Legolas disappeared further into the gathering crowd. Gimli was the one who’d dared him to attend the show, telling him he was sure no pointy-ear could handle it. How could it be so, simply a performance? The crowd looked far too eager for you to be putting them into any sort of- oh. You emerged onto the stage, forearms and down covered with feathers like the wings of a great bird. Your legs were almost entirely bare, skirt minimal and bodice little more than a corset. Twirling and pirouetting into poses the woodland prince could only describe as suggestive, you beamed innocently at the crowd and hid behind your feathers, lashes fluttering. Another performer emerged behind you, hands on your waist and fingers deftly loosening your corset… Gripping the arms of his seat tighter, Legolas leaned in, a yearning in his own fingers readily accepting his friend’s latest challenge.

Haldir

A dancer you were. That was a known fact whispered among those familiar with you, often calling you something of a knife-dancer. Curiosity got the better of Haldir when scandal colored whispers of your performance right outside the woods. Was it dangerous, perhaps? Pride flowed into the little smile of anticipation he wore as fast-paced music filled the room and flames were snuffed, leading you to slide gracefully into the dim. Crouching, you crawled to the edge of the stage with a bloodthirsty grin that sent shivers down Haldir’s spine. Flicks of your wrists revealed your famed blades, which you twirled, tossed, and dragged gently along the length of your tongue. Brows raising, he found himself leaning forward with new interest. What sort of dance was- Coherent thought ceased immediately when you tossed your blades, caught them, and began slicing away at purposefully shoddy seams upon your outfit, revealing more and more until the elf was on the edge of his seat…

Galadriel

Hearing of a new form of entertainment served only to pique Galadriel’s curiosity and draw her from her frequent solitude. After all, if it was making her people happy… She did not expect to see a lone performer upon a platform, elaborately feathered fans covering most of her figure, but there you were. Clad all in white, at least from what she could see near your feet, you slowly closed the fans. The long swaths of fabric that hung near the ground begun only at your hips, the expanse of your legs utterly bare as you extended them, moving gracefully across the stage as your fans accentuated every curve and undulation of your body. Jerking, you rotated, hips swiveling as you happened to face the Lady of Lórien, and watching you through her lashes Galadriel felt a devilish smile rise to her lips. She saw exactly why there had been such a buzz…

Lindir

There had been talk of you giving a performance of some kind, but all Lindir had been able to retrieve on the subject was that he should quite like to be in the audience, so with a light heart he shuffled into the crowd, pleased to be quite close to the stage set up for you. Perhaps you’d learned a new instrument under his nose and wishes to surprise him with a performance! Perhaps- You slunk to the center clad in, oh dear, quite a sheer skirt. Feeling a rush of heat to his face, he tried to focus upon the swell of music, largely successful until you ripped your top off, hips swinging lower as your layers thinned and thinned… You froze momentarily, wearing little more than your corset, and made direct eye contact with Lindir, whose eyes widened and body felt quite faint. Slowly, deliberately, you took up your dance once more, grinning at him as you began unlacing the back of your garment. His hands shot up, half-covering his face, but he couldn’t help himself peeking again and again.

Elrond

Housing a troupe of performers was certainly an unusual set of circumstances, but not in the slightest beyond the reach of the great homely house. Indeed, at encouragement from Lindir to let music fill his halls, Elrond acquiesced to a performance, unknowing of the so-called ‘dancers’ who would emerge after the exuberant wind section. In fact, it wasn’t until they called you out that Elrond’s eyes widened, brows expressive as ever as they flexed in great shock. You were lowered down on ropes, sitting with your legs largely bared and swinging. Garments- quite the loose term- of drapery covered the rest of your form, but as you leaned back in your swing, you began twisting, swiveling, removing one veil after another… Elrond found himself looking this way and that, but his eyes could never leave you for long. Feeling his gaze darken and his hands flex, he wondered what he had gotten himself into…

Arwen

How scandalous could it be? Many a friend or even a family member or two had rolled eyes and whispered harshly about your performances, but Arwen was not afraid. No matter what it was said to be, she would experience it for it to be so in her mind. Thus she found herself in the audience of the very subject of contempt, the somewhat smaller ratio of maids to men not lost upon her. A great fount was all Arwen could see at the center of it all, at least until one bare leg slowly arched from its edge. Blinking, Arwen watched as it was followed by another, each of them kicking some water onto the crowd before your hands gripped the other side, flipping over to render most of your body visible. Hanging from the sides, you swiveled your hips, head innocently rested upon your folded arms as if your…ahem…rear end were not moving so. Sitting up, you let go, dropping back into the water with a splash before emerging again and grinningly tossing water on more patrons. Arwen found herself mirroring your expression, following your every motion with interest and a strange sense of elation.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #thranduil #legolas #haldir #galadriel #lindir #elrond #arwen #female reader #ask #fly-on-my-sweet-angel #requested #suggestive #this was a fun one thank you 😌

[nouearth]

a soulmate AU where you can write on your skin and have it appear on the body of your soulmate. with bart allen x dark angsty reader

i just combined your two asks together since they're pretty similar. hope you like it!

it's okay to not be okay.

pairing ; bart allen x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, the flash, young justice. word count ; 896. genre; angst & comfort. rating ; pg-13. warnings ; comfort!fic, soulmate!au, topic of depression notes ; i've been kinda on a creative block, so i'm so sorry if this sucks, lol. bart is aged up by the way!

“you up?” the sound of rain accompanies you as you’re sat at your desk, waiting for a response beneath your written question. it’s one of those nights again. another night of endless tossing and turning because of thoughts—stupid thoughts. naturally, parts of your body find a rhythm as a way to shake out those bad thoughts, an impromptu exorcism you liked to joke. 

your fingers nervously drum against cherry wood, your leg bouncing in pursuit, and your heart races all at the same time, as you wait for a response. it’s four am, you weren’t exactly hopeful for one, but somehow, bart has yet to fail you.

“brley.” you’re calmed by the appearance of the black ink on your skin, smiling now. barely. he’s missing an ‘a’ but you figured you’d give him a pass considering how late it is.

“sorry. just wanted to see if you were still awake.” you write smaller than usual on your skin, accommodating for the longer sentence. 

“drinking a coke now! you ok?” his handwriting is sloppy as usual, but you find it endearing. it’s almost like he’s rushing to talk to you and you couldn’t complain about that—you do the same.

“4 am thoughts again?”  bart continues on before you could write a response. he’s always been a quick replier, impossibly fast at times.

it hasn’t been long since… all of this started happening. you never believed in having a soulmate, even attempted to refute the idea. but the existence of bart allen has convinced you into believing, maybe… just maybe, that he’s the one. bart always knew what was on your mind simply by how long it would take you to respond at times. that’s how impressive he is. he always knew what to say. not because he’s wise or smart (though, he is), but because he knew how to make you laugh. and you can feel yourself healing, though baby-steps, the more you spent time with him.

“you know me.”

“and i always want to know more! favorite cheesecake flavor? mine’s a basque.” you chuckle as more words appear on your skin, quickly extending over the length of your forearm as bart never cared to write small. “i know, it’s a little too fancy for me, but that caramelization is YUM!”

“and i thought you knew me, bart…” you write just as the previous responses vanish into your skin. “you know i don’t like sweets.”

“i know and it’s why i’ve docked you down to being 95% compatiable with me.” a smug smiley face with its tongue sticking out ends his sentence and you draw whatever you can imagine at the moment over it like you often do, both to your amusement.

for a moment, you forgot why you even woke him in the first place. bart makes time pass by, the problem and care of the world—of life—fleet away when you’re with him. but when you’re not, everything is numb. white noise follows you everywhere. the only reason why you come out of bed is to go to work, but you work idly, breathing as best as you can. living as best as you can.

you didn’t realize you’ve been staring off into space until you felt soft pressure applied to your forearm again, breaking your focus. “you never answered if you were okay or not.” 

it takes a moment, a long moment until you gather the courage to respond.

“honestly? no…” you sigh to yourself, admitting defeat. 

sometimes, there were days where you felt okay. but they were rare. you hated feeling like this. merely stating how you felt made you uncomfortable, but you’ve been lying to him, to yourself for so long. you aren’t okay. because the longer you lied to yourself, the more you hurt everybody, what’s left of everybody, around you.

you’ve stopped doing your favorite things again, opting to sleep the entire day away if you could. but you knew it was unhealthy. so you try. you try to make yourself okay, whatever that meant. going to the beach, taking a walk in the park, it was something. but you always found yourself wanting, dreaming to be one of those attributes that had people returning to those locations. the gentle sunset that warmed cold shores, the breeze that kept park benches cool, you wished you had that effect on someone—to have them return.

but to have them return is to get better, work towards being better. you’ve hurt a lot of people. those that have tried to help you, stood by you, but you’ve pushed them all away by now, and you’re alone. painfully alone.

“you remember what i told you from before, right?”

“yeah.”

you think to yourself, will bart return if something happened? if you were an ass to him? said or acted hurtful towards him? you knew you would never intentionally, but it’s a thought—a scary one. 

“it’s okay to not be okay.” you both write simultaneously, your print in small and bart’s in large.

you’re not doing well. you admit to yourself again, and that’s okay. you remind yourself, alongside with bart’s writing. it’s a part of life and most of all, a step in the right direction. to healing, to being better, to being okay.

“i’m always be here for you.”  “you always know what’s on my mind, bart.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#bart allen x male reader #bart allen x reader #bart allen #bart allen impulse #young justice x reader #bart allen x you #bart allen x y/n #dc x male reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics #dc x reader #male reader #x male reader #req #req: bart allen #impulse x reader #impulse x male reader #young justice fanfiction #genre: angst #the flash x you #the flash x reader #the flash x male reader #the flash #the flash imagine #nouearth #✰ : nou.fics #✰ : nou.dc #✰ : nou.bartallen

[demeterdefence]

Can we talk about how last chapter Persephone had that moment with her past self saying she'd protect her, protect herself... and then this new chapter didn't have her do anything at all except stand there. She has ONE line protesting apollo's plan and then shuts down. Everyone else is arguing for her. And like, I don't have a problem with people protecting her but. As a story it's hard to take it seriously when she has this big moment saying she'll protect herself and then nothing comes of it. She also only has SIX lines this whole chapter, and 4 of those are after leaving the press conference with Hera.

god yeah i was already so disgruntled over the "i will always protect you" thing because we KNEW it was just more classic "therapy speak" tacked on for some kind of semblance of girl power, but the next part really does just seal it in doesn't it

like i'm sorry, but persephone telling her younger self she'll "always protect you" is a lie front to back because persephone has not and likely will not do anything to address what happened to her, she has done nothing to bring her rapist to justice, she won't even let other people deal with him so the whole scene is just this random facade of girl power that is anything but. and then we dive into the actual mess of it and like

absolutely unrelated but i love how rachel cannot draw feet facing forward she has to draw them from the side so we have this anatomy twister anyways

the warning ahead of the chapter said "manipulation that causes psychological distress" so couple that with the "i will always protect you" from last chapter, you have either persephone realizing how wholly out of her depth she is at doing that, or you have rachel thinking this is? somehow protective?

like okay it's cool you're angry i guess so are you going to do anything about it? are you going to tell all the people watching live that apollo is a rapist? are you going to point to any of the many gods milling around who know what happened (hermes, for example) and say "hey, these guys can vouch for me that apollo is a predator, he has hurt me before and i have good reason to suspect he's trying to do so again."

classic copy paste of panels to meet the panel count but also two former love interests of persephone get to be the one to point out the logical fallacy! interesting!

i forgot about that stupid drill lol but yeah that sure looks like protecting nineteen year old persephone i guess

and i'm not trying to be coy or nitpicky because again, we are talking about facing a rapist who has caused unimaginable damage and it's very easy for people who haven't gone through that to say "just say something persephone!!!" so my frustration isn't necessarily with persephone herself, it's rachel insisting in the narrative that persephone is healed and getting better and stronger and then failing all across the board to show it. it's rachel having hera come in at the last second to save persephone, while the male admirers in persephone's life fight the male abuser. and it's downright insulting that all the times persephone has had a quote unquote "girlboss moment" it's when she's bullying lesser beings or those who simply cannot defend themselves against her. when she's up against a force that frightens her or is stronger than her, she lets other people do the work. it's just so absolutely disrespectful to abuse victims, to the concept of abuse, and to the idea that persephone is protecting anyone, least of all herself.

#answered #anti lo #anti lore olympus #abuse ment / #assault ment / #rereading this chapter to get my evidence and wow the mess is just lying out there #like u really live like this rachel? #like i WANT the scene to WORK #i want her to protect herself!!! #but she's got to do the work! she's got to face the monsters!!! #thank u so much for the ask once again i am fighting rachel at dawn

[crimsonedquill]

Tumblr has shut me down 2 times now trying to send this. 3rd times the charm. Have a request for you. 🫶 What do you think the HL guys and gals would end up thinking/doing if they found out that the MC is a Legilimens when they have yet to confess their feelings? (Romantic and spicy)

MC being a Legilimens and finding out about HLC's secret feelings

Okay, so I ended up spending way more time on this than I anticipated, lol. I'm still finding my footing with this new format so I hope I did justice to your request 🖤 I decided to get a bit creative and tried incorporating a theme of each character representing a different sense (tasting, hearing, feeling etc.) though I kinda ended up dropping the ball with Imelda :/ Anyway, hope you enjoy 🖤

Poppy Sweeting 🦡

Poppy had found herself in a bit of a bind lately. She liked spending time with MC, and she was really glad to have finally made a real friend, but… was it normal to feel her heart flutter whenever they were close by, or feel hotness high in her cheeks when they flashed her a smile? Due to her inexperience with relationships, she wasn’t sure she was reading all of the signs right at first, but it slowly started to dawn upon her as weeks passed without her random bouts of happiness diminishing. Merlin, just her luck. The only human friend she’d ever made, and she had been stupid enough to fall in love with them.

She did everything she could to ignore her feelings at first, not wanting to ruin the special thing they had. Which wasn’t to say that it was getting any easier to do so – if anything, it was quite the opposite. Sometimes the boldness of her own mind would catch her off guard, overwhelming her with fantasies about kissing MC or wrapping herself in their arms. She would lie awake at night, picturing their lips in their mind – wondering what they would taste like.

It left her feeling increasingly desperate. The more she tried to keep her feelings hidden, the more she found herself unable to resist the pull of her attraction to MC. It was like a magnet, drawing her in closer and closer until she felt like drowning.

And then, one day, everything changed. They were walking through the Forbidden Forest, enjoying the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, when she felt a strange sensation wash over her. It was like a gentle caress, a feather-light touch that seemed to brush against the edges of her mind. At first, she thought it was her imagination, but as the feeling persisted, she began to realise the truth.

They knew.

It was like a shock to her system. All this time, they had been able to read her thoughts and feelings, to see everything she had been trying to hide. And yet, despite the fear and uncertainty that bubbled up within her, Poppy couldn't help but feel relieved. She didn't have to keep her feelings bottled up anymore, didn't have to pretend that she wasn't head over heels in love with her best friend.

And then, as if sensing her inner turmoil, MC turned to her, their eyes locking in silent communication. Poppy could feel the intensity of their gaze, the raw emotion flowing between them. And then, before she could even process what was happening, MC leaned in and pressed their lips to hers.

It was like a dream, a fantasy come to life. Poppy's heart raced as she wrapped her arms around MC's neck, deepening the kiss with a fervour that surprised even her. She could taste the sweetness of their lips, feel the heat of their skin against hers, and she knew that this was where she belonged.

When they finally broke apart, both of them gasping for air, Poppy knew that things would never be the same between them. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like everything was going to be okay.

Natsai Onai 🦁

Natty couldn't explain why she was so attracted to MC. Maybe it was their loyalty, bravery, or simply their good looks. All she knew was that she couldn't get them out of her head, and she sometimes caught herself wondering how handsome they looked underneath all those clothes. Sweet Merlin, she should probably be glad her mother wasn't omniscient.

Sometimes it seemed like MC brushed a little too close to her for it to be a random mistake, but maybe it was just her feelings talking. At any rate, she didn't think too much of it. She had always been skilled at keeping her emotions in check, and she was wiser than to let personal feelings get in the way of treasured friendships.

Which wasn’t to say that MC didn’t seem keen on testing her limits. Their invitation to go for an evening swim in the lake appeared innocent enough at first, yet she couldn't help but feel that something was different about the way MC looked at her tonight. Then again, she wasn't making any effort to be subtle as she watched MC undress and slip into their swimwear, her ogling earning a smile from them. “See anything you like?” they asked.

“The lake is looking very beautiful tonight,” she taunted back with a grin of her own.

“You're right,” MC said, turning towards the lake. "It's just begging for something more, don't you think?”

Before she knew what was happening, MC threw off their swimwear and stormed into the lake, the splashing water obscuring their nude form. They turned around and called out to her, “Come on in, Natty! It's delightful!”

Natty chuckled to herself as she stood up and waded into the water to where MC's head was floating. “You're absolutely mad, you know that?” she said.

“And I know you love it,” MC responded, wiggling their eyebrows at her. She laughed. MC always knew how to make her laugh. Again, she looked at them, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks as she realised they were completely bare under the surface.

MC swam closer to her. Natty tried to keep her gaze fixed on their eyes, but her eyes kept darting down to their toned chest and strong arms. She could feel her heart racing as MC reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.

“You know, Natty,” MC said, their voice low and husky, “I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now.”

Natty felt a flutter in her stomach as she looked at them, waiting for them to continue.

“I can't deny that I feel something for you,” MC said, their eyes locked onto hers. "Something more than just friendship. And – I know you feel the same way.”

Natty's heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

“I do,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Without another word, MC closed the distance between them, pressing their lips to hers in a searing kiss. Natty wrapped her arms around MC's neck, pulling them closer as she deepened the kiss.

As they pulled away, MC grinned at her. “I knew you couldn't resist me,” they said, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

Natty rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. “You are just full of secrets, are you not?”

Imelda Reyes 🐍

Fuck! That was the fourth time this week she’d dropped the ball during Quidditch practice, both literally and figuratively. She didn’t know what was wrong with herself – was she coming down with something? Usually she always managed to stay laser-focused, but lately it was as if she couldn’t maintain concentration for more than five seconds before her thoughts started drifting off. She angrily landed in the grass of the pitch, ripping off her arm guards as she stomped towards the changing room.

“Imelda –” a voice called out, and she rolled her eyes as MC caught up with her. “Hey,” they said, “good game.”

“Yeah, fine, gloat all you want,” she snapped back at them. “Easy to kick someone when they’re down.”

MC chuckled. “You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone has their bad days.”

“Well, I don’t.” she huffed. “Now, don’t you have someplace else to be?”

She kicked the door of the changing rooms open and started taking off her robe. MC simply leaned against the doorpost, unbothered as ever. She didn’t know whether to consider their tolerance for her outbursts a virtue or a curse.

“I just mean to tell you, you’re only human.” MC said. “Come on Imelda, you don’t have anything to prove to anyone here –”

“Oh, I suppose you know so bloody well,” she scoffed. “I bet you think you know my every hope and desire, don’t you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact –”

Imelda pulled off her gloves and threw them in the corner with a force that made MC flinch. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” MC said. “I just… well, I didn’t want to embarrass you, considering… I know I am the one that’s been distracting you lately.”

She frowned at them, but her reaction was a lot less severe than it could have been, and she knew it. “Clearly that Bludger did a lot more damage to your skull than I thought.”

“Oh Imelda,” MC chuckled, shaking their head as they smiled. “I may not know as much about Quidditch as you do, but I’m fairly certain my stamina in bed has nothing to do with it.”

To her credit, she didn’t lose her composure – didn’t even start blushing. She just stood there, cocking an eyebrow at them.

“I must admit it’s a bit flattering, all these unsavoury thoughts you have about me,” MC continued as they stepped into the room. “I might even –”

They stopped as Imelda suddenly stepped up to them, keeping them trapped in her icy gaze. “I don’t know how you know, and frankly, I don’t care.” she said, gripping the hem of their robe. “I assume you know what I want right now?”

MC nodded slowly.

“Good.” A smirk began tugging at her lips. “I think I’m beginning to appreciate this efficiency.”

Sebastian Sallow 🐍

“Seriously, MC, a Stunner?” taunted Sebastian as he easily deflected MC’s charm. “You can do better than that!”

“Just keep talking, Sallow,” MC chuckled, hunching forward to catch their breath. “You’re just making it easier for me.”

They attempted another spell, which he parried with ease. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched MC stumble around the duelling chamber. Their persistence was endearing, and he enjoyed spending time with them, even if it was only to knock them down a peg whenever he wanted.

After a few more fumbled attempts by MC, Sebastian decided to retaliate. He launched a spell of his own against them, which knocked them off their feet. MC yelped as they fell and then burst out in laughter, the bright sound echoing through the chamber.

I wonder how loud they can be.

He blinked, slightly taken aback by the brazenness of his own thought. A blush soon followed when he was struck by the realisation. It couldn’t be, right? He’d never viewed MC that way. An obnoxious loudmouth, that’s all they’d ever been to him –

I wonder how far I can push them if I have my way. I bet they’re a screamer.

Confused, he failed to see MC readying for another attack, and without warning he was suddenly knocked back, landing squarely on his ass. When he pushed himself back up, he noticed MC walking towards them with a smirk on their face.

“That was plain luck,” he scoffed as he stood up. “You only got me because I lost my focus for a moment.”

“I know,” MC responded. “I couldn’t help but notice you were suddenly very distracted by something.”

He cocked an eyebrow at them. How did they – but no, that was impossible. They were probably just bluffing, as usual.

“Sounds like you admit you can’t win in a fair fight,” he retorted.

“I think it’s time I made a confession,” MC said as they took another step towards him. “What if I told you I have let you win all this time?”

“Oh, have you now?”

“I can already tell which spells you’re thinking of before you even cast them,” MC explained, the smirk still not leaving their face. “How else would I have known you were going to use Levioso to taunt me just now?”

Sebastian could feel the colour leaving his face. How did he not… How long had they…?

MC took another step, closing the gap between them. “Long enough,” they said, their lips hovering close to his. “You know, Sallow, there are some other things you might not know about me yet. Would you care to find out?”

God yes, he thought, as their lips smashed together and MC’s mouth opened ever so slightly, their moaning sounding like music to his ears.

Ominis Gaunt 🐍

Ominis wasn’t easily impressed. It was more out of necessity than anything, considering he was mostly living through his senses – he simply couldn’t allow himself to get overwhelmed, lest he ended up losing control. He’d made peace with it a long time ago, finding that being impervious to his emotions was a lot easier than embracing them.

Which didn’t mean he was prepared for the enigma that was MC.

He noticed something was off when he started paying more attention to their presence in the corridors. It wasn’t really strange at first, as he was accustomed to internalising people’s scents and sounds to recognise them, but then MC started to occupy his mind even when they weren’t physically present. The lovely scent of their hair and the melodic sound of their voice were like colours on his mental canvas, and he savoured them whenever he could.

But after some time, even that wasn’t enough. For the first time since he could remember, Ominis felt a need – a deep wanting to experience MC beyond scent or sound. He wanted to feel them under his fingertips, the delicate touch of their skin, which he imagined to be ever so smooth and silky, like a freshly washed cloth.

There were times when he considered confessing his feelings to them. But every time fear would hold him back – of rejection, of these strange, intense emotions he didn’t have any experience with. Making matters worse were his suspicions that MC was onto something – to others it would have been barely noticeable, but for him it wasn’t hard to pick up on the subtle nuances in their voice, the way they laughed whenever they spoke to him.

One day, MC invited him for a walk along the lake. He could feel something stir within him as they held his arm to guide him, their hands so close to touching… but he forced himself to keep his emotions in check.

“It must be so strange, not knowing what everyone around you looks like,” MC spoke up at some point. “How do you even tell them apart?”

“I find that it helps to assign them textures based on their traits,” Ominis answered. “Take Sebastian – he must be rock-solid considering how thick his skull is.”

MC chuckled. “I suppose that makes sense. How do you imagine me?”

Ominis hesitated for a moment, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t immediately betray his true feelings. “I think you would be rough on the outside,” he finally said. “But inside, you would feel smooth, and warm – like a dragon egg.”

Merlin, he must have taken a temporary leave from his senses to be talking like that. He could feel MC bringing them to a halt. “MC –” 

“Ominis,” they interrupted him. “It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything.”

Hot lava burned in his chest. Did they know? But how? His breath hitched in his throat as MC took his hand. They gently kissed all of his fingers before bringing him down – he practically melted away at the touch of their bare skin, warm and soft, more so than he had ever dared to dream of.

“Feel me,” MC said, and he needed no more.

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter hogwarts legacy #harry potter #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #imelda reyes #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting x mc #natsai onai x mc #imelda reyes x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc

[tangledinink]

MY CHILDHOOD LOVE, WARRIOR CATS MY ONE AND ONLY

I MADE MY FIRST OC'S, SELF INSERTS, AND PERSONAS FOR THAT SERIES

WE WARRIOR'S FANS STAND TOGETHER IN OUR SEA OF BLOOD AND PILE OF BONE

oh BIG MOOD. i was obSESSED with warrior cats for AGES. like. lowkey baby's first true hyperfixation. i deVOURED those books. they were typically too expensive for my family to buy (esp coz there were SOO many of them) so every time a new one would come out i'd beg my mom to bring me to the bookstore and then i'd straight up just sit in the aisle and read the entire thing then and there.

warrior cats is definitely, like, a huge part of what truly got me into drawing/writing/storytelling. i used to dedicate hours to illustrating scenes from those books. i had four HUGE handmade posters up on my wall as a tween with each and every cat from each and every clan that i'd update as the allegiances changed in the books. i used to design 'warriorsonas' for each and every one of my classmates because i was a super normal child. warriors is how i got into roleplaying, which was definitely a huge influence on my writing-- i read in an interview when i was, like, 11 that the erins sometimes got inspiration for warrior names from roleplay sites, and i was like!!!!! omg i have to start roleplaying on roleplay sites so that one of my warrior names get into the books!!!!

(they never did lol)

but i still obSESSIVELY roleplayed online for YEARS, i'd draw all my characters and draw my friends' characters, too, and scenes from the rps. we'd all write PARAGRAPHS upon paragraphs with, like, proper grammar and everything (because at that age and in those circles, roleplaying *with actions in asteriks* and stuff was CRINGE and everyone KNEW that the LONGER you wrote the BETTER your writing was, obvs, and that was the only factor--) i spent, like, every waking moment on this massive chatroom-based site called kugyay that had, like, hundreds and thousands of users in its heyday. granted, like, most people had more than one account (so you could have a custom profile for each character, obvi) but i remember everyone freaked out when we hit more than 10,000 accounts.

i could talk about my experience with warrior cats and all my various ocs for... like.... ages. also like. this is random and won't mean anything to most people, esp coz i only posted, like, a few pages about it, but i also want y'all to know that this graphic novel that i desperately want to bring to life and do justice someday and that i've dedicated SOOO much time thinking about is... like....... 1000% inspired by/based on warrior cats lowkey. like. i am infected. forever and ever.

#warrior cats #warrior cats warrior cats warrior cats warrior cats #my pets also lowkey have warrior cat names #i used to spend ALLL my time on kugyay and like. it was considered like a BIG DEAL to have a 'high rank' #ie have a character who was a leader/deputy/medicine cat #and it was SUPER competitive coz there could only be 16 at a time at most and again there were literally THOUSANDS of users #and when my oc brownowl became the thunderclan medicine cat i was like #omg #ive peaked #this is the greatest accomplishment of my life. ill never do anything greater. this is it #my god i have so many memories #like it was in many ways fucking horrible lol but it was also? great #and definitely made me the writer/artist that i am today #asks #sorry i rambled so much i just like #have warrior cat thoughts all the time they Mean So Much To Me #i could also talk about that dumb graphic novel idea for ages and ages #kugyay

[iheartgod175]

Huckleberry Hound — Avenger I

He moves in the shadows, darkness being his only companion in his path towards the light. His heroic spirit, tempered and matured through many trials, shines through even the blackest of skies. Celestial Warrior, Avenger I, descends upon the battlefield.

The town of Jellystone has driven many a mayor to an asylum. Yet Huckleberry has held the chair for a whopping three terms, with talks of a fourth looming on the horizon. At first glance, it’s easy to see why he’s popular. Coolheaded, unflappable, and possessing the classic laidback Southern charm, he’s seen as a beacon of normalcy in a town where get-rich-quick schemes and other shenanigans run rampant. Aside from a side note about him hailing from North Carolina, however, not much is known about his personal life, mostly because not many get too close. To many in town, although he is a well known public figure, he is often seen as a mysterious, steely-eyed and silent-type stranger.

And if one were to ask Huckleberry Hound, he’d be happy to hear it, because he’d prefer it if things stayed that way.

By day, he’s the untouchable, coolheaded mayor of Jellystone. By night, he is the fearsome and devastating Avenger. He appears to be a regular hound, but in reality, he is a Celestial, ethereal beings of mysterious origins with powers that have been sought after by many, and attained by few. As the name implies, Celestials are not of this Earth, but are born in the deepest parts of the galaxy. As one of the pure Celestials, he can summoned like a creature of myth, often called upon by those who have been grieved and betrayed. Huckleberry is a member of the Warrior class, and while many other Celestials surpass him in both power and combat prowess, he is not to be underestimated. As his name implies, he takes swift vengeance on wrongdoers, often in precise, yet brutal ways—and even if he loses a battle, he will give his opponent his all in combat, commanding their respect.

His umbrakinesis and his dark armor contrast heavily against his personality, which has led to several people, even his fellow Celestials, to believe that he is evil. He attacks his targets with soldier-like precision and dedication, with the goal of protecting the town he now calls home from any and all threats. This reflects his inner desire to serve, and as such, he will not raise his sword against anybody under false pretenses or without justification. He wants no praise for his actions, instead only wishing that the people who summon him are at least put at peace. As such, when his assignment is complete, his powers will lull those who summon him into deep sleep. Those who speak of Avenger afterwards can only describe his armor and demeanor—how his kindness contrasted heavily against his armor. He has an important Astral Skill, which allows him to both heal others and release their souls. In accordance with his powers, however, he will only do so if it’s the deceased’s will that they return or leave.

This was supposed to happen to Droop-a-Long Coyote, who sought immediate justice for the murder of his sister Betty, and inadvertently summoned him. One could imagine Huckleberry’s surprise when the coyote, who worked at the town hall as an intern, immediately came to him and thanked him for what he did for his little sister.

Huckleberry was so stunned that he could only utter one word:

“How?

—

I started Avenger after I finished the line art for Bugs, but didn’t get around to finishing him. However, I got it done over the weekend and I absolutely LOVE how he turned out! Those fabric markers did come in handy!

You knew I had to doodle Huck again before I do the others, LOL XD. And I will do a proper profile for Droopy and the others soon. But yeah, look at him and how cool he turned out!

Next one will hopefully be Reaper. I have an idea for how to design him at long last, and I have had a hankering to draw Ricochet again, so you can expect him soon!

Enjoy!

#hanna-barbera #huckleberry hound #Jellystone #fan art #my art #Jellystone tag is due to Huck’s design being lifted from that show #I can’t help it #IT’S SO FREAKING GOOD #character profile #fanfic: the celestials’ guardian

[bogos-bint3d]

Considering Yellow just came out, I'm curious how you interpret Justice!

YEAH IM FINALLY GONNA ANSWER THIS ASK FROM ALMOST TWO MONTHS AGO BECAUSE IM FEELING GOOD

Ok so I don't really know how to start so to get things going I'll begin with some pictures of them

I have to say, they give me SO many feelings. I originally started work on them long before I even knew what undertale yellow was. My first attempts at drawing them (which you can see in the top left that were used for reference) were done back in June, but I was planning things for them several months before.

I remember them actually being pretty much the very first fallen human who I felt motivated to make something with, because I saw a comic of someone's own interpretation of them. I noticed how in that comic, they went to Mount Ebott intentionally, for the other humans or something, and that was sort of the beginning of my inspiration, but I felt like I could do more with it. So, starting off with that I kinda built on it. I wanted to do something different from what I'd seen before, where they wanted to get justice on the monsters FOR hurting the humans. I remember someone saying something along the lines of them thinking justice was a little bitch, which of course was a valid interpretation, and that's what made me sorta go in a different direction.

For me, I saw justice as someone who would've wanted justice for the MONSTERS, from the very start. They were the kind of person who didn't really believe the legend of humans and monsters, but of course knew Mount Ebott was a very dangerous place. And, yknow, believed monsters were just a legend, they loved to think about the fact that if monsters WERE real, they were probably trapped unfairly. Think about Chara for example. Though they were human themself, they still hated humanity, and felt connected to the monsters. They wanted the monsters to be free and to go against the humans. I imagine justice to have been something like that. Not as much hatred for humans as Chara maybe, but still knowing of all the bad that humans had done, and, being an edgy teen, felt genius for the concept that this ""old """"silly"""" legend"" would probably have been biased in favour of the humans. (which they were actually right about. Good for them 👍🏾)

Am I explaining this correctly? I'm not sure if I am lol

So anyways, yes my justice interpretation very much did not want justice on the monsters once they discovered the legend was true, but rather was very much on the side of monsters getting justice on the humans.

Let's see, what else is there... Ah so as I was explaining before, seeing that comic also sparked the idea for me that they went there looking for someone. They'd usually never even get near to Ebott, however, they end up having to. Ok this part is like it's own separate infodump so like take a breath. So this all ties in to one of my other fallen soul interpretations, integrity. I won't get too into them right now because that is like a WHOLE OTHER CONVERSATION, so for now I am going with the BARE ESSENTIALS. Justice went there specifically to go look for integrity, because in my little interpretation thing, they're siblings. I'll show some quick things about them then straight back to Justice I prommy

Their name is Leo (I don't have a name for justice yet I'm so sorry Leo is like the only human I've named so far), and ended up on Ebott after a stupid dare by the rest of their ballet class. So anyways after justice finds Leo is like. No where at all. They have to go on over to Leo's dance class cause that's the last place they'd been and ask around the other kids to find out where their 10 year old sibling was because they'd been FUCKING MISSING FOR LIKE SEVERAL HOURS only to find out the other kids left them on MOUNT FUCKING EBOTT, where multiple other children have all DISAPPEARED upon going there. So now justice gotta go to death mountain to find their lost sibling no big deal

I feel much more nervous about talking about my fallen soul interpretations now than I would've, like, four months ago, simply because the presence of uty has had such a grip on the fandom that people have kind of accepted it as canon. I think it's actually a really stupid and petty thing to mad/sad about, because a lot of effort was out into it, and I'm sure it's very very good, but I just, well I guess we all just whish we were the best, right? I'm scared yellow will completely overshadow any other existing interpretations, and people love it so much, they won't care about my own. I REALLY hate myself for this, and I just want to say I think you should all keep loving yellow! It seems really good! This is just my own dumb fear shining through haha

But anyways, enough of that! I'll explain more about the souls another time because if I keep going on right now I might become physically incomprehensible. There is so much more about justice that I'll dump on you all another time, trust me, I just hope you all like what I've got so far ❤️ thanks :)

#ITS INFODUMPING TIME #asks #you dont even KNOW how long i have been wanting to talk about them #they are EVERYTHING to me #EVERYTHING #IT FEELS SO GOOD TO FINALLY GET ALL THIS OUT #i hope you all love them as much as i do #i have been waiting for like a YEAR to tell people their story i am so happy about this #ive just not even had the motion to until this VERY moment so i dropped EVERYTHING to come and write this and have not taken a single break #-since i started writing #undertale #utdr #ut/dr #bogos i binted #integrity soul #justice soul #yellow soul #undertale yellow soul #undertale justice #undertale fallen humans #fallen humans #undertale human souls #i can finally rest #me being a little bitch about everything #<i hope it doesn't come off that way but i kinda just use this tag when i say like slightly negative things about anything because im not- #-sure if what im saying is mean so i ise that tag as a way to say #''if this is mean i am so so so so so so sorry''

[herzgeist-writes]

(I feel like Mariah Carey when right after Halloween, lol🤣)

Anyways, would it be a problem writing a little scenario with fem!reader comforting Law during one of those sleepless night of his? Maybe by kissing the spots where his vitiligo is visible or by tracing the outline of his hands/chest tattoo while reassuring him?

Just pampering and showering him with sweet words and soft cuddles for a stressed captain who neglects himself too much because he "feels" that it's the only way to prevent his crew or his special one from getting into trouble (or worse).

Pairing: Vitiligo Law x fem!reader | Word count: 1.6k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Nothing but sinister thoughts are the reason for the Captain’s unease. The eery of insomnia shows it’s face, leaving him wandering around the Polar Tang, lost to anxiety. As his significant other, you are determined to find the sore spot and bring solace to that overworking mind. So you let your fingertips do the talking, in hopes to cradle this insomniac to sleep.

A/N: Miri you’re so mellow - I love your mind! Thank you for this beautiful request. So I hope I did your thoughts justice with this one. Have a wonderful day mi amica :3 [click me]

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

Cold. A stinging cold emits onto inked digits as they graze along the submarine’s metallic porthole. The dark blue swims along the thick glass, shimmering in cyan - reflecting on the Captain of Heart’s tired face. Dived into the waters, the Polar Tang weightlessly soars through the ocean’s depths, low hums of motors sounding off omniously.

Insomnia weighs over Law’s shoulders, hence he decided to take a walk through the sub’s corridors instead of cramping up in his office. Battling his inner wars, he counts the matters stuck in his thoughts - poneglyphs, the will, the one piece . . mysteries gnaw his brain, leaving the doctor with a pounding headache. Tense, his palm rubs his sore neck, lifting the hat to slide up stray raven hair strands. Sleep is what he needs, yet isn’t able to comply.

Simply explained, anxiety has Law in a chokehold, constantly afraid of the expected unexpected - such as ambushes, sea kings, turbulences or inconvenient weather circumstances. It all spirals up, worsening his deprivement. However, to know his crew is safe and sound, hearing the soft snores and steady huffs coming from the sleeping quarters, is what keeps the Captain sane, assured to a certain extent.

The water grants him some sort of comfort, seeing it glide by the porthole, the cold colours hypnotizing him - the numb feeling, noise cancelling his ears when diving in it resembling his current state.

“My love, come to bed, it’s almost morning.”, a soft coo tears him out of his train of thought, turning around only to find you standing there in your pyjamas, his woman who rubs her eyes gently from drowsyness. Concerned he asks: “Did you stay awake again because of me?” - “How couldn’t I? I’m worried about you.” Heavy footsteps drag themselves your way and the tall and slightly slouched figure towers over you. Warmth caresses your cheek as you look up at him, feeling his thumb drawing circles over the round of your face. “How many times have I told you not to risk your own health for me?”, Law furrows.

Leaning into his touch, you welcome the affection and sigh in strain: “No matter how many times you tell me, I can’t bear seeing you this upset and overattentive every night.” Gently, you grab his wrist and pull him along, beckoning him to follow you to your shared room. Like an obedient puppy, one that doesn’t like to admit that fact, he goes behind you, his arm being dragged infront of him and taking smaller steps in order not to accidently crush you.

The door creaks open and you practically shove the drained supernova into the room, who knew a slender and thin frame like his is heavier than it appears to be? Perhaps it’s only his stubborn resistance, opting him to buck like a donkey. How troublesome.

Finally he begins to undress, symbolically speaking getting rid of the already mentioned weights on his shoulders, putting aside his royal blue feather coat, vest and jeans, ending up in only his boxers. Hopping onto the mattress, you watch as he flings his fluffy white hat away and cracks his fingers, hearing the tensity in his knuckles. The sound sends shivers down your spine and you whimper painedly. In amusement, Law huffs at your small whince and sinks onto the bed next to you, your body dipping into the plush. “You’re way too sensitive, sweetheart.” - “Says who?”, a deep hum comes your way and you accommodate it with a warm smile.

“I do. I would even write a report on it, signing it with my full concent as a doctor.” - “You’re basically saying I’m mentally unstable! Go away!”, playfully you push against his shoulder, earning a sassy chuckle from Law, who flashes his trademark smirk at you. Shuffling back closer to you, he lets his index hover over your arm and you observe his hand closely, enticed by the black of his embellishment imprinted on his patchy skin. “First you force me to follow you and now you want me gone? I can’t call that stable.”, he jests, but you’re too focused on his hand to counter his remark.

He notices your absentmindedness and lures you further, placing his palm onto the back of your hand and carefully stroking it. Oh how you fall for him and his traps, it’s too easy for him, aware of how much you adore his touch. “Hello? Are you still with me, my heart?”, the mused rumble rips you back to reality and you titter in fluster, apologising for your slip. Your little mannerisms delight the surgeon immensely, enraptured by your carefree and peaceful minded behaviour. Adorable isn’t even close to a suitable description for you.

Mirroring his ministrations, you trace the tattoo on his arm, occasionally glazing over his bleached spots. As if electrified, now he is the one flustered from the sudden tenderness. Soft words reach his ears: “Would it help if you talked about your inner struggles to me? You know, so you can get a shut eye?” Uncertainty plasters over his expression, sweat dropping to your offer. Almost growling, he tracks your fingers that draw along the Vitiligo painted onto him. “I doubt- I’m not sure.”, he corrects deftly before starting his former intentions, earnestly overthinking your question.

“I respect it if you’re not comfortable with it, but promise me you unwind now, here with me. Alright?”, emotions, he didn’t know were exsitent in his system, wash up his mind, listening to your care. Promptly you ask him to lie down and you heave yourself on top, straddling him. Gingerly you ask for his hand once more and he lays his trust in your palm. With light pressure you knead his knuckles, speaking to your lover in whispering manner: “Let me tell you something. Every problem forms into pain somewhere in our bodies. They’re signals to let us know, that we need to work on these topics, or else we’ll suffer even more pain in the future. So tell me, where does it hurt?”

That is a bold statement you delivered, cogs visibly spinning to your vast input, Law raises a brow at you. “Do you truly believe in that shamanic nonesense?” - “Just think about it. All your nerves are connected to your brain, which bears with those struggles. Where do you think the excessive bad energies go?”, if given some thought, your point is fairly taken. The Captain hoists the white flag, accepting whatever you’re up to. He indicates to his hands being caressed, explaining how cramped and taut they feel.

Massaging out the tightness, you inspect every inch of him, bit by bit palpating the sore muscles and sinews. Your nails glaze the jolly roger, flowing down to his next tattoo on the lower arm. From the ticklick sensation, you come to notice a tiny set back, for Law pulls back his arm subtly and muffles a supressed ‘Mhm’ in response. “Ticklish?” - “Not in the slightest.”, his quick retort makes you laugh and you continue your quest of calming that poor soul down.

White pigmentations enhance, what resembles a cog wheel’s black lines, as if an artist went crazy blending colours. Switching to his torso, there you find a strongly heaving ribcage, regular air intake caused by your velvety touches. Your palm weighs onto Law’s stomach, being subtly pushed against, him anticipating your contact.

You visualise the image before you, recognising the man slowly giving in to tiredness, for a yawn escapes him. Law stretches his arms and legs, exhaling deeply and watching you marvel the artwork on his skin. Tracing the grinning face on his sternum, you purr: “I can hear your heart even from here.” - “Wow, what a discovery, (Y/n)-ya.” His response lures a chuckle out of you, presuming your ongoing.

Lowering yourself, pressing your chest onto his, the pounding muscle in his torso competes to yours - both of you are elated, roused from the mellow sensations you gift him. It gives you joy, seeing him relax and loosen up. Divine, is what you think, inching closer to that austere face of his, wanting to kiss those lips until you and him are left drunk and yearning.

Automatically, your hands rustle his sideburns and goatee, flowing along his jaw where the Vitiligo partly shows it’s pale hues. More, Law’s greed longs for more of you, thus he grabs your thighs, lifting you nearer and envelops your cherry like plumpness. Sensual lip-locks elicit a low moan out of you. This dialogue of affection is double-sided, an answer disguised as a satisfied hum returns to your audible rapture. Before he pulls back, his teeth prod your lips playfully, earning a surprised gasp from you.

Resting his palms on the small of your back, steel eyes stare deeply into yours. This is what he fears. Afraid, terrified to lose. These exact moments remind him of how feeble life is. How it could stop on a dime. If fate decides to take you away from him, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. “Don’t leave me.”, he musters to offer you insight to his worries and you respond with gentle pecks on the corner of his mouth, peppering along the splashes of white. You do not dare form your reassurance in words, but only through actions - simply pressing your forehead against his.

Law wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight, muscles tensing up again. He craves your embrace, lids shut close and concentrating on your warmth as you guide your fingers through his black hair, fondling the sensitive spot right behind his ear, telling him mutely to disperse the darkness out of his fogging head.

If humans were able to, this is where he’d turn into a purring mess, finally letting go. Content, he drifts off into dream land with you in his arms, never letting you go. In the end, there was a long needed rest for the wicked.

#one piece #one piece law #fanfiction #x reader #trafalgar one piece #fanfic fluff #law x fem!reader #law x female reader #law x y/n #No rest for the wicked!

[yellowocaballero]

It was cool seeing a bit more of Dedue this chapter, cause like his dynamic with Dimitri is just so interesting yk? Like alongside the loyalty and devotion, Dedue also genuinely cares about Dimitri and Dimitri very much so cares about him in turn, but there's also the added layer of Dimitri being basically his only hope for the justice and restoration of his people and that adds even more of a power imbalance (outside of just the general future king and his vassel imbalance lol). And the way that in their supports they both had said that the other had saved them and Dedue calling Faergheus abhorrent with Dimitri as the exception. There's just a lot of depth there, and I really like the way you're showing that so far in the fic.

YEAH BABY. I know I went on for WAY too long about Dedue in a comment, did I do it here??? I don't think I did? I'll more or less repeat what i said.

You're so right. Dimitri and Dedue's relationship is so complicated, and Dedue is so complicated, and I think the nature of Dedue's character is that he is very, very quiet about how complicated it is.

Dedue and Dimitri genuinely love each other very, very much. They're so devoted to each other, they would do anything for each other. I think they 'killed off' Dedue because Dimitri would not have lost all hope if Dedue was alive. Blaming himself for Dedue's death fucked Dima up bad. Dima genuinely, actually cares a ton about saving Duscur and helping the people his country hurt, about helping Dedue with his life goal of giving the country freedom. I also think Dedue is...um, bad for Dimitri.

You can't forget that Dedue is a single issue voter. He is a genocide survivor. The goal of his life is to save Duscur. Dimitri is his only method of saving Duscur. Dimitri is the only person who cares. Dedue has to make Dimitri king. He's thrown his hat into Dimitri's ring and he has to keep it there. Dedue knows every secret Dimitri has - his hatred, his mass murdering tendencies, his sickness - and he doesn't tell anybody, because that would get in the way of making Dimitri king, and that would put him at odds with Dimitri and what Dimitri wants. He enables continuously when what Dimitri needs is an intervention. He actually openly tells Felix that, should Dimitri start burning down a village and murdering women and children, that Dedue would help him. Dimitri would do that because he's nuts, but Dedue would do it fully aware of what he's doing and completely willing to do it, because Dimitri told him to, and Dedue needs to make Dimitri king, because Dimitri is going to save Duscur.

The power imbalance is a big thing, yes. It's huge, and it's understandable but silly of Dimitri to want them to be friends. But I think Dimitri is extremely reliant on Dedue. When somebody depends on you completely, when they share everything with you, you have power over them. Dedue had the power to help Dimitri, and he chose not to.

I don't blame him. Dedue had his own ways of coping too, and this was how. I think he put the salvation of his people over Dimitri's happiness, and...that's fine. The sad white boy is not the most important person in the world. In the fic, I draw an explicit comparison between Dedue and Byleth: that they needed Dimitri to be a king and a leader and alive, and they didn't need him sane for that. But it was the actions of two people who loved Dimitri so much that they were willing to do anything to keep him alive.

I always kind of wondered if Dedue had THAT MUCH internalized racism, or if he just knew that he had to be careful with his words and show the world the right face. He talks a lot about how ashamed he is of Duscur's So Awful Bad Actions We Killed Your King :(, but...he also privately shares that he finds finds Faerghus abhorrent. SO MUCH of Dedue's lines in his supports are just severely internalized racism, and I just kind of wonder how honest it is...same way that you have to wonder how honest Petra is. I think they're both doing what they have to in order to survive, and that they have to protect themselves and this is the way they have to do it, but...it's not...good...

He's a fascinating character in a way I don't think is immediately obvious, and I think he's kind of slept on in that way! Dedue portrays his own actions as very simple and straightforward, but I really don't think they are. Unfortunately, due to the story, this is the last time we see Dedue play a very active role in the narrative. I was sad about it (I also dislike writing out POC, but such was the story). Thanks for the ask, though - I think if you drain out all of this complexity about Dedue, then you're really missing the point. And the Dedue you'd be creating is somebody who has no internal life or motivations or faults or strengths outside of Dimitri, and who also just has so much internalized racism. Which is lame.

TL;DR

FELIX, AS USUAL, YOU'RE RIGHT BUT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY IT LIKE THAT.

#my asks #my writing #WOW that turned out longer than intended again. #whatever dedue deserves it #i think this is one of those instances where #being not a good writer hurts your ability to write poc specifically #I typed “Dedue is a good person” and then i looked at it and then deleted it #is he? is anybody who would commit atrocities on somebody's command in pursuit of their own goals a good person? #even if the goals are noble? even if like fucking everyone is out here mass murdering on somebody's command? #in Felix's hypothetical is Dedue worse than Dimitri - because Dimitri's nuts and Dedue isn't? #Dimitri is a bloodthirsty hateful person for so long #is he saved from being a bad person just because he was ill? #idk man this is a wendy's

[lawlietscaramels]

Can we get Z,T,S and C with L please?

-🌜anon

death note reborn

also hello 🌜 anon! I think your ask is the next one sitting in my inbox and I'm excited to write it :)

I've mentioned it before I believe, but what brings L to a state of zen is rain. And again I'll mention I don't think it actually brings him that sense of calm and belonging unless he's somewhere small. A garden. A driveway. An onsen. I should draw L in rain. He likes the way each single drop of rain is its own individual part of the whole. He likes how they all "work together." He likes the sound. It reminds him of England.

L is terrified of very few things. He has fears, yes, I think he's scared of thunder and also of zombies, and of being unloved and forgotten. which is very likely, nobody noticed that L had died (he's still alive) and Light took over except for people who knew/had been told that he had died. the world only knew him as a detective not even a person and why do I want to make myself cry today, sigh. Anyway. The thing he's number one most afraid of is losing his ability to think and speak and communicate. So any virus that attacks the brain absolutely TERRIFIES him. He lies awake at night thinking about lyssavirus/rabies and listeria and everything else he's heard of (let's be honest L has a weak immune system the common cold could probably kill him). Any brain damage at all, anything related to it, terrifies him.

SEXUALITY & GENDER HEADCANONS LET'S GO,, okay. L usually just tells people it's none of their business, 1) because it's none of their business and 2) because it takes him a while to list it all (he'd go into more detail than I have). L identifies as: arospec (demiromantic), acespec (greysexual) and pan (he thinks from a technical definition he'd be omni, as he has a preference for men, but he prefers the pan label). When asked by someone what his gender is he'll inevitably reply "what the fuck is gender lol" — the wording because he thinks it's funny and the sentiment because he honestly does not care about gender. L is just L. He looks masc because it's just easier to keep going the way he was raised and he accepts he/him pronouns mostly but you could refer to him as anything and he wouldn't care. Would probably be surprised because he's accustomed to being called he/him but would not care. He'd also wear dresses and skirts and whatever if it was a more appropriate choice for the situation or weather n stuff. oops haha I wrote a lot.

Oh boy talking about L and the change questions is gonna be a lot. One of my favourite things to think about is L's inner conflict and how much he wants to change but is at the same time afraid of it. Iirc he mentions in canon that he knows his own methods aren't great but doesn't make any effort to change them. I think the main reason for that is that he's been brought up knowing how unjust the justice system is and being taught that it's okay for him to do bad things if it makes the bad people go away, i.e. the ends justify the means. So he's afraid he won't be as good of a detective if he follows the law he upholds. Watari probably doesn't help very much with that. But L DOES want to be a good person, otherwise he's a hypocrite and creating as many problems as he prevents. As for how he has changed, well, he went from a poor little boy to someone who was told their only purpose was their intelligence and raised to be a brilliant detective at the same time as his own individuality and life was destroyed and that's really sad to me. When I write L I hope to write him learning to be a person outside of his work. once again it's the Rie formula my dear OC there to let me rewrite everything for a happy AU. HELP I wrote even more for that one shhfhfhfnfgn.

#i have too many fickifin thoughts about L #death note reborn #death note #l lawliet #writing #death note headcanons #dn #lei's lawliet #lei writes #lei's death note #watari

[frodo-with-glasses]

Blessed Are the Peacemakers

Of History and Revolution

Today we had some really fascinating discussion on the Fig Tree Discord server about Frodo's role in the Scouring of the Shire, and how it relates to historical revolutions in the past. Since this blog is coming up on the end of the chapter, I thought this would be the perfect way to close us out.

RebirthoftheMustelid:

I will admit, I did feel some frustration at Frodo not fighting in the Scouring of the Shire. I just thought "man, this is your HOME! Why don't you fight for it?" I understand why he did what he did. It makes sense for his character. It just bugged me on my first readthrough

Me:

And he does [fight for it]. The other three fight for its liberation, but Frodo fights for its spirit.

Rudy Studee:

A revolution needs a Sam Adams to succeed; a revolution that ends well also needs a John Adams.

Rudy Studee: (after being asked to explain further)

Sam Adams was a Boston brewer, knew Paul Revere, very typical hot-headed rabble-rouser. The aspect of John Adams' character I am thinking of is that he defended the perpetrators of the Boston Massacre in court. He believed in the principles of justice, no exceptions.

RebirthoftheMustelid:

That's a good thing to do

Rudy Studee:

In every revolution that goes sour (which might be every revolution, depending on your definition of the term), the John Adamses are second against the wall

RebirthoftheMustelid:

I'm kind of a hothead myself, so maybe that's why I had the reaction I did to the Scouring scene lol

Rudy Studee:

Yes, I was very much so the first time through as well

RebirthoftheMustelid:

But I understand why Frodo is the way he is. He's a gentle person forced into bad situations. He doesn't want to hurt anyone

Kasey Gondor:

I think it's an important detail that Frodo doesn't try to stop, or discourage, or shame those who do fight. he tries to stop any unnecessary violence. but he recognizes that these people in power do have to be resisted. he just won't be the one to do it in arms himself.

RebirthoftheMustelid:

He's tender. He's a literal gentleman.

Me:

I’m reminded of the French Revolution; mind you, I only remember it in broad strokes, but the fact that it went from “overthrow the oppressive monarchy” to “mass and near indiscriminate beheadings” to “Napoleon stepping in because SOMEONE has to fill this power vacuum” to even more wars and death just proves the need for the peacemakers in revolution. Violence starts revolutions, but it doesn’t know where to stop; the peacemakers are the ones who can rebuild society afterwards. Otherwise it just becomes a cycle of the oppressed becoming the oppressors, and then being overthrown by the oppressed, rinse and repeat.

RebirthoftheMustelid:

That's true. Someone needs to be able to take power, end the violence and start a relatively peaceful rule.

I'm going to be chewing on this conversation for quite a while. There's a lot of great things to think about.

RebirthoftheMustelid is @weezlbot, Rudy Studee is @whitehorsevale, and Kasey Gondor is @captaingondor! A post with just the drawing at the top can be found here, and if you'd like to join the Fig Tree Server yourself, here's a fresh invite!

#frodo baggins #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr meta #my art #my writing #other people's writing #fig tree discord server

[bokutosbiceps]

✨How do sis✨ I'd like to request a match up with someone from either one piece or Haiykuu pls

Idk what to start with lol um

I'm an extrovert with long dreadlocks, that loves to draw and crochet. My love languages are gift giving, words of affirmation, and quality time. My favorite colors are greens, especially moss green. I love plants but only have one, it's thriving tho. And um my favorite aesthetic is cottage/fairy core aesthetic, I prefer cutesy kdrama-like dates over any other kind I guess🌱🌱🌱

I hope that's enough to work with୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨

it’s perfect, coco !! i hope you like your matches 💕😁 here we go !!

one piece

i match you with USOPP 🤎

first of all, usopp is a sucker for partners who can give him words of affirmation. tell him he’s strong, you love him, he’s handsome, he’s your hero, etc + he’ll be putty for your molding. he also really loves to give words of affirmation, but that can only come after he’s gotten comfortable enough with you to show you his soft side. so the love language that he presents to you in the beginning stages of your relationship is gift giving! whenever he comes back to the sunny from little trips around random islands, he will always have a knick knack for you to enjoy. he’ll puff up his chest + tell you about the seven foot, five hundred pound man he had to fight in order to get you that gift! so you better be grateful.

a relationship with usopp would include all of the fun in the world, but also lots of cuddles and sweetness. once he gets to know you + comes to trust you, he wants to do absolutely everything with you! come sit next to him while he fishes, while he tinkers with new gadgets, while he’s relaxing on the deck in the sunshine. sitting next to him during meals is a must, too, because he wants to whisper little jokes about other crew members to you just so he can see you giggle.

usopp really learns to refine his romantic qualities when he’s with you. he had never really thought of himself as a romantic man until he met you, but ever since then, he’s found himself wanting to pick you flowers, make you little gadgets to help you with daily life, and let you lay in his lap while he massages your scalp. for the very first date that he took you on as an o f f i c i a l couple, he took you to a clearing filled with yellow and orange daisies. there wasn’t really much planned out besides that, but from the way you smiled from ear to ear and hugged him tightly, he felt as though he had taken you out to a five star restaurant.

pls crochet him a hat. he w i l l wear it + treasure it like luffy treasure’s his straw hat.

haikyuu

i match you with HINATA SHOYO 🧡

oh god, being with this man would be a whirlwind, wouldn’t it? but it’d be so fun! you can’t find someone more affectionate than shoyo + he wants to shout his love for you from the tops of every rooftop he comes across!

shoyo loves to hold you close or be touching you in some way while you draw. it’s something he thinks is very intimate; he’ll lay his head in your lap, drape himself over your shoulders, cuddle up next to you then peer over your shoulder to watch you work your magic. whether you drawings be on paper or digital, he will ask for a copy so he can look at them whenever he pleases. he absolutely loves your drawings + he thinks its so cool that you can create something just like that!

you want cutesy dates? you got cutesy dates! he takes you to every sweets cafe he comes across. seriously, any time he’s going somewhere new + he comes across a place he thinks you’ll like, he’ll take a photo of it so he can remember to take you there on your next date! he’ll order a bunch of sweets for you both and lay them out on the table so he can take adorably aesthetic photos of you with the food, which he’ll later look at when struggling to decide on which photo he should set as his new background/lock screen.

a/n: are you even surprised @ your one piece match up, coco? you knew it was coming LOL. i hope i did your boy justice !!  anyways, i hope you loved it 😁

#match ups #match up #match trade #hinata shoyo #hinata #usopp #one piece #op #haikyuu

[junkydrawr]

Well, it's been a while, so here's another Snively scene for ya'll. Just a little bit of Snively's childhood.

Oh yeah, I'm learning Spanish so I just tossed some random thing in there. Lol

"How come you don't use your real name?" Tails twirled in the water.

"I don't like it."

"What was it again?"

Snively lifted one foot from the water, watching the silt slide from his toes. "Colin."

"How come you like Snively better than Colin?"

"I wouldn't say I like it better. But it's the lesser of the two evils."

"Colin isn't that bad," said Tails. "My real name is Miles...now that's just dorky!"

"No, it's fine. It has sophistication." Snively wiggled his toes back into the mud. It felt nice.

"What's sophistication?"

"Class. Polish." Snivey rolled his eyes. "I realize Sonic is your idol, but must you emulate his vocabulary incompetence...?"

"I got no idea what you just said." Tails splashed one of his namesakes into the water, sending spray Snively's way.

It honestly felt nice too. He wiped his face. It might be pleasant to simply sit down, let the water flow up to his chest. He'd probably be covered in sand afterwards. Not so pleasant.

"I think you should use Colin." Tails nodded seriously. "Snively sounds like a joke. Like...sniveling."

"...but isn't that what I do?" Snively smiled crookedly. Hazy memories surfaced like the glittering sand beneath the water.

-

He was nine and his father was the Minister of Justice. Father attended galas and parties and meetings and other boring things. Usually, Colin Jr stayed home. Tonight, his father decided to drag him along. 

Snively was not pleased. He'd have to don his suit and tie, those stupid shiny shoes that hurt his feet...and be around droning, pretentious rich people for endless hours.

At least the food was usually good.

Father stopped by the leather armchair where his son was lounging with a book.

"Hijo, tienes que hacer listo." (Son, you have to get ready.)

Snively sneered without looking up. "Yo no entiendo." (I don't understand.)

Father insisted on his enrollment in Human Multicultural Languages. It was another class to nap through. Father liked to grill him with random phrases in various languages of Earth. (Of course, random phrases was all Father knew.)

When Snively had asked to drop out, his father had gone on a tirade.

"We must preserve our heritage," he growled.

"But we're from England."

"The heritage of our species! The glory of Homo Sapiens!" Colin Sr tilted back his head arrogantly, his fire-hued hair gleaming in the chandelier lights. "Our people are meant to conquer the stars, boy!"

Oh Gods. Snively resisted an epic eye roll. It'd only earn him a slap.

Father loathed the fact that Common Mobian was prioritized over Human languages on all levels of schooling. They were both fluent, naturally. When your species was only 3% of the population, you had to assimilate or remain insular, and that was not an option when the majority controlled all of the resources as well.

"You do understand me, Snively! Now answer properly!"

He sighed and struggled for the words. "Um...Que hora hace lo empiezar?" (What time does it start?)

"It starts at seven. You have an hour to get ready and you look a mess." Colin Senior fisted a handful of his son's shirt, drawing him close. "You had best not disgrace me, Snively."

Snively cringed. "No, daddy."

-

The gala was some stupid fundraiser, something to do with raising money for the Overlander cause - the group that believed they shouldn't bow to the Mobians.

War was on the horizon, but such things were surreal to a nine year old boy who had his hands full with a critical, loveless father, schoolyard bullies, classwork and studies.

Snively managed to snag a glass of wine from a passing server.  He sipped from it, brushing his hair from his eyes. Oh, it made him feel burning and tingling. He liked it.

The air was thick with the scent of rich hors d'oeuvres, silver confetti, gold balloons, clashing perfumes. He scratched at the red tie at his neck and sat at an empty table.

Look at this silly lot. He eyed all the men in their suits, the women in their fancy dresses and overdone makeup, all the breasts pushed up and begging for attention. A server paused and offered him delicacies from her silver tray.

Oh yes. Small weiners wrapped in brioche, pinky-sized shrimp, and tiny snack cakes!

"Thank you, I will." He took the entire tray.

"Excuse me, young sir-" she huffed and he aimed a finger across the room. There was Father, shaking hands and blabbing with other stick-up-the-ass bigwigs.

"Oh, would you like to tell my daddy on me? He's right there."

She blanched, hurrying off.

He smiled in bratty enjoyment, then sampled the plate. Well, perhaps it was worth being dragged here. But after a while, he was full and bored, and this dreck of a party was still carrying on.

I wish Uncle Julian were here. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. Uncle would have so many witty and funny things to say of all this! Snively giggled. He imagined Uncle's commentary in his deep voice. Look at this group of overstuffed turkeys, my dear boy. Ah, has that woman over there smuggled melons into her brassiere?

I wish Julian was my father instead...

He tried to squash the frequent, sorrowful thought and stood, restlessly wandering the gala. He ended up passing near his father, still chatting with other pompous arses. People of wealth and influence.

"Oh my," cried an elderly woman showing too much skin. "Is this not your son, Minister?"

"Jolly right!" Another man, decked out in Overlander military garb, pulled Snively in by the shoulder. "This is the lad."

"Ah yes." Colin Senior beamed with false pride. An equally fake hand of affection patted his son's other shoulder. "My darling boy, my golden child."

"What a fine-looking young man."

Snively resisted a sneer. Think that's the first time I've heard that one.

"My pride for him knows no bounds."

"And what is your name, son? Named after your father, are you?"

Colin Senior nodded, drawing his son closer, his hand kneading on the back of his neck. You'd best not disgrace me.

I hate being named after this clod.

I hate how he's pretending to love me.

The golden child smiled sweetly, his blue eyes sweeping the group. "Oh yes, sirs and madames. My name is Colin as well...but honestly, I far prefer Father's nickname for me."

Father's hand tightened on his nape. A warning.

"Oh, and what is that?" The elderly woman leaned forward.

Colin Jr beamed radiantly. "Why, Sniveling Bastard, of course. Snively for short."

The old woman gasped, and all the assembled eyes stared at his father. Colin Senior sputtered, red creeping up his brawny neck, as he fumbled for an out.

"Um...ah...heh...ah...the boy is such a joker. Such talent for wit."

There was forced laugher, and Snively slipped away as his father desperately tried to save face.

He retreated to the bathroom, where in the stall, he bent over and laughed until tears streamed down his face.

-

He shed a different sort of tears later in the privacy of their manor home.

It had been a while since Father had thrashed him with his belt, and he struck especially hard tonight.

Snively curled painfully in bed, sniffling and wiping tears. His rear and thighs burned with swollen welts...but inside...he glowed.

I can't wait to tell Uncle about the look on Father's face. He giggled softly, gingerly rolling to his other side with a pained gasp.

Yes, he would be sore for days...but he was full of appetizers and the darkness of pleasurable spite. Welts would fade, but the memory would never lose its sweetness.

-

The recollection of Daddy's humiliated, fumbling face made him chuckle. Colin Jr had fully embraced his hateful nickname from then on, stabbing it like a needle into his bastard father.

He sloshed his hands in the cool water. "No, I shan't ever use that name." He let his hands still, seeing his pitiful reflection staring up. "Snively is who I am."

Tails twirled again. "Maybe you can make up your own name! Something you like!"

The small man grinned. "All right. Snively the Grrrrreat."

"Yuck! No way!" Tails splashed more water his way.

----

A/N: So that's my take on why Snively sticks with his nickname instead of given name. He really should make something else up though hahaha. (Also, I just realized I didn't make it clear, that Colin Sr only called his son 'Snively' (and variants of) in private.)

(Also Humans being 3% of the population might be an overestimation. In my storyline Mobius and Earth are seperate and the Overlanders immigrated from Earth to Mobius over a period of several hundred years until they ended up blowing up their home planet. Bummer. Lol. Anyway, it's a minor detail since that shit's in the past, right?)

#snively #junkysnivfic #SatAM fic

[myearts-uwu]

HATSUNE MIKU

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS DRAWING AND IM SO PROUD OF HOW IT TURNED OUT AHAQHSHAHSA

The moment I saw the 15th Anniversary figurine of Miku a few months back I KNEW I had to draw it! And ahhhhhh!!!! I’m genuinely so happy with how it turned out in the end!

I left this as a sketch way back in April and only recently did I decide to actually get on with the lineart and rendering. This is probably my first time I ever tried drawing something with a very complicated design since I mainly stick with simpler clothing but you know what? Miku’s outfit looks amazing and I hope I did it justice here lol.

The variations of the drawing are under here, along with the og sketches!

#hatsune miku #miku #miku hatsune #vocaloid #hatsune miku anniversary #fanart

[toraashi]

the frankest of shadows.

warnings/info: scaramouche x gn!reader, ~2.5k words, kissing, hurt/comfort (sort of), much introspection, the first half is way better than the second half lol, part 4 of my husk of opulence series, ig tw for violence in the beginning 🥲

notes from tori: hiii it’s been a few months, but here’s the final part of my husk of opulence series. this is literally 100% dedicated to 🫂 anon, because they are the only reason i even bothered to finish this. i hope it does the rest of the series justice. i’m actually really proud of this series; i’ve never fully finished a multipart story, and i’m very proud with how well it all came together.

if you’re interested in hearing what music i listened to while i was writing this, here’s a link to my spotify playlist

click here to read the previous part!

All he dreamed was of you.

It was infuriating, truly. Every time a flash of your smile, knowing and kind, flickered across the forefront of his mind, he wanted to rip his hair out. More than that, he was tempted to storm back to the camp he’d left you so safely protected in and draw a knife across your throat.

Alternatively, despite his promise, a piece of him was tempted to never return. He hadn’t been lying, he truly had business he didn’t want you to interfere with, but it would be so easy to leave you where you lay, to immortalize the final image he had of you. Your resting form, your lashes rustling against your cheeks as you endeavored to deceive him. Of course, he knew you were phasing in and out of sleep, he was no fool.

Perhaps that’s what held him back from running. He knew you were conscious, and yet, he’d still crossed the bridge between you, his cool fingers brushing your warm cheeks.

But not only did this dissonance between his newfound knowledge and his characteristic principles enrage him, but it also had every one of his contacts asking two questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer; truths he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Where is that obnoxious hat of yours?

Did something happen to you?

Their curiosity was abandoned when Scaramouche unleashed a few mild threats, but the concepts had lodged deep into his mind like a stubborn sore, raw and bleeding, infecting his entirety.

Yes, something had happened, but it wasn’t what they expected. What he expected.

The consequences — emotional or otherwise — of absorbing his former liege’s gnosis hadn’t hit him as terribly as his subconscious had suspected, but when he deeply thought about it, all he could remember was the soothing touch of your fingertips against the nape of his neck, sliding up into his hair. Your words had made little to no sense, of course, but as much as he hated to admit it, they’d softened something in him.

A “something” that cropped up every time he truly looked at you. It stirred in his stomach like warm embers rather than cold lightning, a sensation he was almost unfamiliar with. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it brought forth memories of lost companions. It was a subconscious warning to abandon you and protect himself from the vulnerability you brought out in him.

Even so, the soft, spongey pieces of his heart wanted to wrap you up in his palm and tuck you away into his chest to keep for himself.

All of this was so unknown, a garbled mess of what-ifs and uncertainties. One thing he did know (at least deep in his heart — the real one, the one he’d developed from his experiences living amongst mortals) was that you were waiting, as foolish as that may be, for his return. That you would welcome him with a smile and a flurry of questions about his travels. That you’d no doubt be wearing his stupid hat and collecting seashells or whatever trivial activity you did in your free time (a sight he couldn’t rid of from his dreams). He knew his footprints in the sand would lead back to you. He knew he would follow them and return.

The internal battle he faced, he realized, was one of defensiveness and one of pure desire. He’d lived his entire pathetic life attempting to be walking proof that anyone who discarded him would regret it, that he wasn’t one to be trifled with, and yet, deep in the soul he’d developed while wandering in your company, he wanted you.

Turning his head to the coastline (thinking of you looking back, waiting), something tender clambered up his throat. The sensation settled in his brain, a loud voice begging, pleading for a fragment of relief. One good thing. He wanted to feel good things. He wanted to feel you, your heart, your spirit in a way so desperately selfish it tore at his soul. To follow your steps as you showed him more of the fragility of mortality. To help him grow comfortable with the vulnerability at his core.

He reached for his hat with a resigned sigh, ruffling his eyebrows into a glower when his fingers brushed through his hair instead.

Perhaps it was time to return.

It had been a week and three days since Kunikuzushi’s departure. Ten long days you’d wasted away by the shore, carefully concealing yourself from nobushi and scattered treasure hoarders. It was quite lonely (you’d gotten used to the sharp banter you often shared with your traveling companion), and you’d marked the time with an assortment of shells near your bedside.

The hours were filled with thoughts of him. The way the ocean colored a deep purple during twilight hours (his hair). Scattered, violet lightning on the horizon from Seirai island (his eyes). The grit of the sand beneath your fingers (his calloused fingertips).

You awoke early on the eleventh day, restless and nursing the cavity in your chest where your heart was missing. The trail of blood from the wound followed his familiar footsteps in the sand — footsteps that dissolved in the wind over time. The sunrise peaked over the horizon, the reflection of the pink refracted against the gentle tide of the waves, creeping against the sand with each passing minute.

It was soft, and in your quiet moments, you wished you could find the words to describe the lovely sights nature had to offer.

The sunrise shed new light on the title of “wanderer”. What once was an adrift soul, with no purpose, no meaning, now bore the privilege of witnessing the world in its purest form, removed from all distraction and mortal interference. Now, as you stoked the fire at your campsite, a twinkle in your eye, you rather liked the idea of meandering from place to place, taking life one step at a time rather than filling it with aimless ambition. The countless days of solitude, while bitterly lonely, had awoken a new set of ideals in your heart.

After cooking a brief meal (Teyvat fried egg, a staple), you opted to wander down the road, securing Kunikuzushi's wide hat to your head before you set off, the afternoon’s lunch dangling in a basket from your arm. The coolness of the breaking dawn set the precedent for fair weather, and you were eager to perch atop one of Yashiori Island’s many grassy hills. You climbed with the sun, and by the time noon struck, you found yourself in a cozy spot under a tree, the sun sliding up your shoes.

A bite into a sunsettia and a newcomer approached, their garb dark. You swiveled defensively, grasping the hat in preparation to make a quick escape. Only when they stepped closer, the silhouette grows familiar, his form a mere shadow before the afternoon sun. His steps seemed shorter than usual, a fascinating attempt to procrastinate something he’d longed for— and your entire body relaxed into your clothes, a foreign elation, relief filling the cavity in your chest.  

“Kunikuzushi?” You called across the clearing (uncertain), the wind carrying your plea to him. When the shadows shifted, you caught the wrinkle of his nose, the gleam in his eyes. The line of his shoulders was an easy, negative slope, and your heart stuttered. He seemed to stare at you for a moment, eyes studious and contemplative despite his lax demeanor. “Are you all right?”

Shuddering out of his headspace, he treaded closer with a mask of disdain.

“Of course I am. Who do you take me for?” You ignored his snide question, meeting him halfway, a skip in your step you couldn’t hide. “You’re acting like a child.” He commented with a critical eyebrow raised. Of course, the happiness made you feel like a child, lighthearted and naively adoring. How could you do anything but beam?

“I’ve been waiting.”

“As I asked. Were you expecting praise?” He sneered, but the curdle in his words was half-hearted, but you let it wash over you, toeing closer (his face was so close) until the tips of your shoes touched. If he was bothered by the proximity, he never gave a sign.

An exhale, and you peered through your lashes at him, reaching for his hat and carefully lifting it from your head. The sun on your cheeks was warm, and his eyes widened when you revealed your face, holding the accessory between your bodies.

“I kept your hat safe, just like you said.” You murmured, lips pulled into a proud grin.

The expression on his face was foreign, and it befuddled you beyond belief to see his eyebrows scrunch with such immense frustration, yet his lips part with awe and his hands close into fists, only to release moments later. His mouth shut, before opening, and you coaxed the brim of the hat into his hands, jolting at the callouses hardening his fingertips.

He tossed the hat to the side the moment it was secured in his grip, huffing out loud and bridging the slim gap between your bodies, his arms curling around you and crushing you to his chest. The awestricken squeak that slipped from your lips was muffled by his body, and you dazedly stared at the horizon over his shoulder, watching the sun sink lower and lower.

“Kunikuz-”

“Don’t speak.” He insisted, and you could do nothing but comply, the initial astonishment dissolving as you relaxed, eyes fluttering closed and basking in everything that was him. He smelled like the sea, the steady thump of his heart soothing as the gentle rocking of waves, and you wished you could stay in his embrace for eternity. “I believe I told you to stay at the campsite, did I not?” He breathed, the words rustling your hair, his hand flattening until you could feel each ridge of his palm against your back. “Yet here you are, risking yourself again.”

You dared to nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder, sighing dreamily and leaning into his touch. “A picnic in the middle of the day isn’t much of a danger, I don’t think. I missed you, and the scenery helps me center myself.”

“You’re always wandering off when you’re… afflicted with emotions,” He cleared his throat, and your lashes fluttered against his skin when you lifted your eyelids, studying him devotedly. “I’ve returned though, so you… it’s unnecessary to “miss me” or whatever you were saying.” He muttered, and when you tried to fully lift your gaze to endear him, he shoved you back into his shoulder, squeezing your body tighter to his chest.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, impulsively pressing your lips to his shoulder, feeling him stiffen before shuddering pleasantly. “For returning safely.” Kunikuzushi huffed but didn’t yield a snarky remark, simply holding you and letting the breeze wash over him. It was cool and soothing on your warm face, whistling through your ears like white noise, leaving your head vacant of all things other than the man before you.

“Kunikuzushi?” His hands lifted to tangle in your hair as he hummed in response, surprisingly docile. It was a pleasant change. “What are your… intentions? Your plans?” His chest rose and fell in a way that felt so human, you could hardly ignore it.

“I…” He trailed off, and you felt his head lift to stare into the distance, and when you dared to peek, his mind was far away, “I’m not sure. Although the hole in my chest isn’t as piercing as… that night, I feel as if something is missing.”

“Wounds take time to heal, Kunikuzushi. Allow yourself some grace.” You cooed, stroking his cheekbone with your knuckle -- a poor attempt to reel him back down to Teyvat. His nose wrinkled with distaste, and the expression eased a smile onto your lips. The acceptance of your comment displayed his growth beautifully.

“Perhaps…" He started, "Perhaps I will wander the land for a bit, as I used to before joining the Fatui.” A weighted silence settled between you, a “what about me?” heavy on your conscious. Kunikuzushi didn’t let your mind run too far, capturing your attention with his clipped intonation (a question) and an electric gaze boring into your own. “And you?”

Anticipation crackled in his tense features, almost palpable as you held his gaze.

“Wandering sounds lovely, Kunkuzushi. I’d love to join you if you’d have me.” The way he snapped his eyes away made you giggle, his cheeks flushed with rose, lip curled.

“Of course, I’d have you. There is no one better suited to be my travel companion.”

Your chest seized, and with bated breath, you lifted your hand to his face, coaxing him down to look at you, your eyes sparkling with utter awe.

“And why is that?” You whispered, fingers pressing into his warm skin.

He seemed to have no response, inhaling sharply as stared face on, his nose even with yours, hair a muss as the wind picked up with almost comedic timing.

The grass shook, and he grabbed your hand, pressing your palm against his chest symbolically, a reverent expression contorting his features, decompressing his brows and flattening his lips. It was heady and electric, and you rocked with him as he inched closer and closer, a bubble swelling in your chest, seconds away from popping. Your fingers curled against the rough fabric of his shirt, and his long, draping lashes fluttered before he grabbed your shoulder, forcefully tugging you into his space and pressing his lips against yours.

You choked, instantly melting into his body and embracing the sensation of his rough, cracked lips lurching against yours. Inexperienced, he was sloppy, and yet everything about his affection was stock full of authenticity and intention. His intentions were overwhelmingly perspicuous, and it broke a sob from your lungs.

He was retreating back in shock as the sound vibrated against his mouth, but you refused to let him get too far, ignoring your tears and throwing your arms around his neck, the salt intermingling with the taste of his lips, of him.

You confused Kunikuzushi -- the way you cried as you kissed him, shaking like a leaf and pressing your lips to his again and again. His instincts insisted he yank away, but he couldn’t. A sensation so intense swelled in his chest as his tongue brushed across your bottom lip, and although his hands flailed initially, eventually, they’d settled comfortably on your hips, as if that was their purpose: to hold you.

Your hands wandered madly, from his face to his shoulders to his hair, and yet, he didn't mind in the slightest. Your touch was sanctifying.

Kunikuzushi wondered if he'd been searching for this all along. If this overwhelmingly positive sensation was the ascension to Celestia he tried to find in his liege’s gnosis. How peculiar that he’d find the missing pieces of himself in the depths of mortality, locked behind the rough skin and cold tears and glowing laughter of the human he’d turned into.

You parted your lips for him, and his worries floated away on a cloud, replaced by the answer to all of his introspection.

It was you, and he would wander with you until the day he died.

taglist: (I literally forgot I told ppl I’d tag them in this but here u go) @shioriryke @enbysaiki @moonxma @qingxin-dream

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #scaramouche x y/n

[your-nanas-house]

HELLO💫💫!!! First good night💙, I was wondering if you could write a fanfic (if you accept requests, of course) where everyone (the Justice League, the Batfamily, the Titans etc) is in some kind of """meeting""" and the reader (male, please!) is in the middle too, but is he like, spoiling Damian? Can it be said so? LOL. So, the reader and Damian are pretty much the only ones on those reunion bases who are acting like the sweet, honeyed couple they are. Everyone's reaction would be hilarious and with many questions for the "tame" way of the devil's spawn LOL. The reader has ice powers but doesn't properly control them in the right way, he is afraid after a brief accident that happened in his past, but he is still so kind and "nice" to use them sometimes (the powers. He can do simple things like: snowflakes, ice shapes etc). And Damian, he's so passionate about EVERYTHING about the reader! His sweet, adorable, kind, outgoing manner, his little face, his eyes, his hair, arms, hands (especially his fingers), EVERYTHING in the reader! They can't imagine caring little about the "reunion" and just in their own little world acting like cliché boyfriends! (they are very close friends but they are boyfriends even though they are not but they are boyfriends yes. Everyone present in the fanfic talks to Batman/Bruce about how Damian and the reader are so close and that surprisingly Damian is so silly and cute with him, in that way everyone in any way noticed the way they interact!). The reader is playing with Damian, maybe making snow shapes out of drawings, shapes or something like that, cafuné him, something like that, but they are!! Like the male reader is so unusual and random that he does something with Damian and he just accepts it and continues to pay attention to every detail of the reader😃💗💗 (((Sorry if I don't understand anything or see errors, I'm Brazilian and I'm using the translator, I liked your interior pictures so I got up the courage and made a request here--)))

Hi!!💙 Don't worry, I hope I understood the request correctly and that you like it 💗

Teens in love

Pairing: Damian Wayne X superhero!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 598

Summary: in the request

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

................................................................................

At the end of the meeting Bruce Wayne's aka Batman's eyes were fixed on his biological son and what was apparently his boyfriend, Y/n Y/l/n also known as Ice-boy given his powers that were related to ice and snow, who were both sitting toward the back of the table lost in their own world as they admired each other with their eyes and showed their love without speaking, only with glances, making B noticing only now all those things thanks to the intervention of some superheroes and superheroines in the meeting.

Bruce could make a list of all the things that had changed in his son and what was going on in his love life, specifically in the relationship he was in at that time because strangely everyone knew about that except him:

Clark Kent aka Superman was the first to open his mouth since he was sitting next to him during the meeting between the Justice League, the Titans and the Batfamily, pointing out to him that Damian had been involved with Ice-boy since a few years;

Barry Allen aka The Flash told him of how Damian and Y/n were always giving each other romantic gifts for no reason, bringing for example a rose after a mission only because they loved each other or other things like stuffed animals;

Wonder Woman had talked to him about how they were so in love and adorable together, how they shared affection without any problem and without worrying too much about what people might think of them, exchanging kisses, hugs, cuddles and affection during the day;

Green Lantern had brought to his attention that they always traveled together and that they had wanted to start a love map after an afternoon spent together talking and cuddling;

Aquaman had spoken to him about how they both loved everything about each other; Damian was completely in love with his boyfriend literally loving everything about him and reminding him of that every day;

Dick aka Nightwing had told him about the way his "brother's" behavior changed quite a bit becoming from cold and indifferent to loving and cuddly when Y/n was around;

Jason at that time Redhood, had shown him pictures of Damian and Y/n together that were posted in both of their profiles, making him read the comments and sweet things they wrote to each other;

Tim Drake, a.k.a. Red Robin, mentioned that the young Wayne had given his boyfriend a jar with 360 notes inside where he had listed all the reasons why he loved him and also that they always had matching mugs;

Cassandra showed him slightly the way Damian was behaving at that moment, watching whatever Y/n was doing with admiration, often playing with his hands loving playing with his fingers and the way their hands matched so well;

Barbara and Stephanie revealed to him that the two of them frequently left each other cute messages on Post-it notes in random places;

Duke remarked to him that Damian and Y/n often shared clothes with each other;

Raven informed him about the different nicknames they had between them;

BB about how they spent several nights watching movies while cuddling either at the tower or the Manor;

Starfire told him about the fact that they fed each other exactly like in the movies.

Bruce heard and found out much more and now everyone's gaze was on them since the meeting had stopped, something that was not noticed by the two teenagers in love that were still lost in their own world.

Taglist:

@gabile18

@trainer--taylor

@elizamalfoyy

@eovjjj

@animefan3223

@jeremiah-va1eska

@gothamchic16

@dieg0brandos-wife

@rottenecstasy

@lazyexcuse

@teh-vampire-bunny

#damian wayne fluff #damian wayne #wonder woman #green lantern #superman #batman x reader #batman x you #raven dc #beast boy #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #aquaman #starfire #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #Duke dc #Flash #barry allen