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super-ion · 3 months

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Such Lovely Fur

Chapter 1

The wind howls horribly as I stagger through the drifts of snow. It tears at my cloak and dress, digging icy fingers down to my bones. My teeth are chattering and I can barely feel my hands as I tug the cloak tight around my shoulders.

I find myself wondering for probably the thousandth time if this whole endeavor is a fool's errand. Many men have attempted this very mission, most have never returned.

What hope does someone like me possibly have?

I pause beneath a rocky outcropping, desperately trying to rub feeling back into my numb hands when I hear the voice. It comes in the form of a song in a language I do not recognize, piercing through the storm unnaturally (though there is hardly anything natural about this storm in the first place).

Were I in my right mind, I would ignore it, but I am cold and delirious from exhaustion. Instead I stagger forward blindly through the wind driven snow, drawn inexorably towards the haunting voice.

What I find is a cage, hanging from a sorry looking tree and woven from rough hewn strips of wood and covered with glowing symbols. Within sits the hunched figure of the singer. Her back is to me, so all I can see is a cloak that appears to be covered in dusky feathers.

“Hello?”

She stops singing and whirls to grip the bars. What I previously mistook for a feathered cloak is in fact a pair of wings in place of her arms, three fingers with wicked looking claws emerging halfway down their length. Curling horns and pointed ears sprout from beneath the raven dark tresses of her hair, framing a face with pale mottled gray skin and a sort of flattened nose and tilted eyes like a cat’s. The eyes themselves… they are jet black with glowing flecks like sparks dancing within.

She… I don't even know if this is a she… regards me hungrily with those eyes.

“Hey!” she says desperately. “Get me out of here and I'll grant you your heart's desire!”

Her husky voice snaps me out of my shock and I stagger back.

“Demon!” I gasp.

Her face falls and she makes a sulky pout at me.

“Please?” she asks. “Judging from the spells inscribed on this cage, there are sorcerers about, no doubt intending to carve out my hearts and drink my blood. I would really rather not be around when they return.”

Still in shock at the sight of her, I stumble backward, turn to leave and…

Her words are finally catching up with me.

She could help me save my betrothed.

“You… you can grant my heart's desire?”

She blinks in surprise and her ears twitch. She crouches in the cage, beckoning me closer. I take a few cautious steps forward.

“That might have been a slight exaggeration on my part,” she confesses. “But it is within my power to grant you boons to aid you in achieving such a heart's desire.”

“What sort of boons?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my shivering.

She makes a pointed glance at my cloak, fine dress and thin shoes, all of which are wholly unsuited for the ice and snow whirling around us.

“Well, that depends on what you need,” she replies. “If, as I suspect, you intend to brave this cursed storm and climb the mountain, it is within my power to grant you such tools to assist in such an endeavor.”

I should say no. I should not deal with demons, caged or no.

I also should not be out here in the elements attempting something so foolish. I am far outside of my realm of experience. I will surely freeze to death or worse before getting anywhere close to the top of the mountain.

“How many boons?” I demand.

A hopeful spark shines in her eyes and she grins, revealing sharp teeth.

“Three,” she says. “Standard package. Very powerful number, three.”

“Just so we're clear, I let you go and you grant me three boons?”

“You release me from this cage and I shall grant you three boons spread over three days of your choosing. I swear it on the skulls of my ancestors.”

She points eagerly to a surprisingly simple latch holding the cage closed. I know very little about magic, such things are anathema in civilized society, but I can only assume the glowing writing on the cage is meant for something like her and not something like me.

Regardless, I am reluctant to get too close. I find a long stick amongst the snow at the base of the tree and poke fumblingly at the latch from a safe distance. After a few attempts, I finally manage it and she comes tumbling out in a great squawking bundle of feathers.

She dusts the snow off of herself, revealing great birdlike feet with wicked talons and a whip-like tail that lashes excitedly behind her. She uncurls her body to full height and extends her wings in a languorous stretch.

I am not a short person, but I find myself dwarfed by her. At full height, she is nearly a full head taller than me, and her outstretched wings are nearly twice that height.

She cracks her neck and folds her wings close, ruffling her feathers and puffing up to ward off the cold.

My heart is hammering in my chest when she finally turns her attention back to me.

“What manner of person are you?” she asks as she begins circling me. “Man or woman? Something else maybe?”

She pauses behind me, craning her neck to get a look down my collar. I wrap my cloak around myself tightly in an attempt to preserve my modesty.

“I am a woman!” I snap indignantly.

She cocks her head.

“Indeed?”

When I was fifteen, my household hosted a delegation of merchants from a land across the sea. I remember them ogling and leering at me and asking the most inappropriate sorts of questions. I hated every minute of it, but the trade interests were too important for any sort of argument my father had told me. So I played the dutiful daughter. I made my family proud.

Out here in the wild, so far removed from any sort of propriety, this demon seemed to possess a genuine desire to understand, without a hint of derision. Perhaps… perhaps I could have a conversation with someone unburdened by any preconceived notions of the dictates of gender, neither from my homeland or distant lands with backwards beliefs.

The old familiar traitorous thoughts send a thrill through me and I quickly shove them aside. It is not proper to question my place in society or my role as a daughter or a bride. Nor is it proper to hold any such conversation with a demon.

(Nor is it proper for a woman of my station to be out in the wilderness such as I am, but these are special circumstances)

“Indeed I am,” I say. “Now tell me of these boons.”

She scowls in disappointment at the change of topic.

“Fine,” she sighs. “But first, answer me this: what is it that you seek? What is it that your heart desires?”

“I was to be wed at the end of summer, but the night before the wedding day, the Lady of Winter came down from her mountain and stole my bridegroom away. He is the nephew of a merchant prince, they are a very wealthy and-”

“You're out here risking your life for a man??” she interrupts. “No man is worth trifling with the Lady of Winter, trust me.”

“I am doing my family a great honor!” I reply defensively. “I will prove my devotion and earn my parents an even greater brideprice than what has already been agreed upon.”

She cocks her head the other way and leans forward, raising an eyebrow dubiously.

“But do you love him?” she asks.

“He was one of my dearest friends when we were children,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “On my naming day, a soothsayer read our fortunes in the stars and determined that we were a most auspicious match.”

She leans closer, too close now.

“You didn't answer my question,” she purrs.

“What is it to you?” I demand, jerking back.

She smirks and gives a little shrug.

“Nothing to me,” she says. “I'm simply gauging your conviction. These sorts of things come with a cost, and if your head and heart possess different notions of that cost, it can complicate things.”

“A cost??” I sputter. “But I freed you-”

“In exchange for the privilege of receiving my gifts,” she enunciates slowly with a roll of her eyes. “Listen, my friend. I can't make something from nothing, so everything costs something. It's called equivalent exchange.”

She taps her chin thoughtfully and sweeps me head to toe with her gaze.

“For example,” she continues. “A fur coat would serve you well… something nice and cozy to keep the chill at bay. I can't simply pull one out of thin air, I need something from you first.”

“What do you need?” I ask nervously.

“Your skin.”

“My…?”

I recoil in horror and she bursts into cackling laughter.

“Your face!” she wheezes as she doubles over. “You should see it!”

I feel a rush of embarrassed indignance and I'm surprised to find my fists clenching.

“This isn't funny,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but it is,” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes. “Seriously though, we'll need your skin. The best, easiest way to do this is to trick part of your body into forgetting that it's human.”

I stare at her, mouth agape.

“You mean… fur. Literal fur on my body? You can't be serious.”

“I am,” she says with a wicked grin. “That's how my magic works. How far are you willing to go for this man?”

I think of the pride in my father's face when my brideprice was negotiated. I think of the face of my bridegroom, the way he looked upon me the last time I saw him, the desire and satisfaction that I would soon be his.

I shouldn't even be out here, it is not a woman’s place to conduct such a rescue. If I returned now, empty handed, the dishonor I would face would be unimaginable. It would be far, far worse than if I had never left at all.

For better or worse, I am committed. I am also woefully unprepared and my success is now dependent upon the gifts this demon has to offer.

Fur would not be such a terrible thing, would it? I already shaved my body daily. This would just be one extra step to my morning and evening routines.

“Do it,” I command.

She claps her hands in delight.

“Close your eyes," she drawls, "and try not to think. Don't fight it.”

I close my eyes and stand shivering in the cold. I try to force my thoughts into quietude. It is difficult, with each stray thought I supress, it seems that two more appear to take its place.

I feel a jolt and a tingling feeling spreads throughout my body. I know instantly that it is the demon's magic, writhing and worming its way through me.

Don't fight it. Don't fight it. Don't fight it.

An itch starts at the back of my neck, spreading down my spine and across my back and down my arms and legs. It is not painful, but it itches more and more terribly with each passing second. I clench my fists tighter and tighter as it takes every shred of willpower not to scratch.

Then, so abruptly that it makes me gasp, the feeling is gone and I am left blessedly warm. I can still feel the chill of the wind, but it is a distant discomfort now, as if I really were wearing a thick winter coat.

I crack my eyes open and look down to the backs of my hands. From beneath the sleeves of my dress pale silver-grey fur pokes out, with darker spots like the rosettes of a leopard.

“Oh,” the demon gasps. “Fascinating...”

She steps forward and rubs the back of a clawed finger against the exposed fur on my neck, sending a thrill through me and setting my heart racing.

“Such lovely fur,” she croons.

#my writing #writers on tumblr #lesbian #transgender #fantasy #monster x human #transgender fairy tale #fairy tale #fantasy lesbians #fairy tale retelling #transformation #original fiction

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lilolilyr · 13 days

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ScarletMay Mermaid × Pirate inspiration board

Gunpowder Milkshake Scarlet × Anna May historical fantasy AU, idea by @geek-goth-gay on the @gunpowder-milfshake-discord

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watermelonkiss · 1 year

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would you guys still like me even if i never posted full res finished pieces again 🥺

#original art #fantasy #this is several month old and i like it a lot but i can’t bring myself to finish it #:((#oh well #suggested listening: frou frou’s cover of holding out for a hero #lgbt #lesbians #my art #original character #fantasy lesbians #artists on tumblr

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leceitt · 5 months

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THE LESBIANS

#this is supposed to depict their first proper conversation #and generally them being wholesome as per usual #gay fairy #gay witch #the lesbians #3d art #plaster #plaster art #mini figure #oc artwork #oc art #original character #my oc art #fantasy lesbians

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limonnazul · 1 year

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Yearning

#original character #character design #fantasy lesbians #illustration #black and white #doing this for a uni project wish meluck #limonn art

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poisoned-peppermint · 9 months

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silly little fantasy au

very gay

#oc artwork #oc art #my art #digital art #oc #Queen diamonds delta au #lesbians #dykes #fantasy lesbians #gender queer #queer #nonbinary #fantasy gays #rather large tittys #large naturals #sleepy queers

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fayyline2 · 2 months

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Girl kissers <3

#valentines day #lesbians #fantasy lesbians #mermaid #snail girl #yuri #original character #my art

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dysfunctionaldogdude · 4 days

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Rip my fantasy lesbian board.

I just need to figure out what to do with the story tbh. It's either going to be a VN/IF game, book, or animation/comic. Idk about the last one since I already am doing comics and animations I'm trying to work on. Maybe make into a book then transfer it to an IF. Idk I do want to draw the MCs. A princess and her best friend who became a knight, they're lesbians ❤️ sort of. If you know anything about the song it's based on its ✨️dramatic ✨️✨️🧚🧚🧚🧚

Yw.

Might doodle them sometime.

#lesbians #fantasy #fantasy lesbians #sapphic #princess #knight #prince #princess x knight #princess x knight lesbian #lesbian princess x knight #she likes a boy #im not a boy #nxdia #ideas #mine

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croshnaloov · 1 year

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I cannot believe I drew that yesterday mildly intoxicated and thoroughly depressed…

Think I just really missed drawing knights and lesbians…

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rottenwithfangs · 1 year

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Femme knights femme knights femme knights

Bonus points if we get gardener/baker butch. Giving flowers/breads to her lover when she leaves for battle.

#agender #gender nonconforming #butch #dyke #masc lesbian #masc #butch/femme #butch4femme #butch4both #femme knight #fantasy lesbians #femme

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kellymdoodles · 3 months

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Idk something about dead men’s thrones or whatever

More of Minthara and Vanora bc this image came into my mind and I had to make it a reality

I will make more silly content of them because I love their dynamic

#bg3 fanart #bg3 art #bg3 #dnd oc #minthara bg3 #minthara #minthara fanart #baldurs gate 3 fanart #baldurs gate art #baldurs gate 3 art #cleric of selune #fantasy lesbians #lesbians #drow dnd #dnd drow #baldur’s gate 3 #digital illustration

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super-ion · 2 months

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Such Lovely Fur

[Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3]

Chapter 4

I go on alone.

The passage through the mountain winds and branches, confirming my suspicions of a labyrinth. The light from the entrance persists for a time, longer than it would before my eyes were changed, but soon I am enveloped in pitch darkness. I am guided only by the faint sounds of the space, the subtle smells and whispers of breeze.

I make my way ever forward and ever higher until I discover the faintest light once more. The walls become carved in sharper lines and I begin to pass sconces bearing torches with a strange blue fire that gives off no heat. Eventually the stone walls give way to ice. As I proceed, the temperature drops. The chill of this place penetrates even my thick fur coat and my breath comes out in great clouds.

The further I go, the smoother and more ornate the walls become until I find myself wandering a grand palatial space. It is unnervingly empty, the study paws of my feet barely make a sound, but my footsteps still echo ominously.

That is until I hear the music. The music is somehow worse. It means someone is here. This horrible frozen palace is someone's home.

It is true that I have spent the past few days cavorting with a demon, but Rook was a physical presence, something I could relate to. This place is saturated in some primal elemental power that I cannot fathom.

The music grows ever louder as I make my way higher, drawing me ever closer to my goal. I know that when I find the source of the music, I will find my betrothed.

I finally reach a grand hall, grander than any I have passed yet. Every surface of the ice is carved in exquisitely fine details. The music emanates from a pair of mighty doors at the end of the hall.

As I walk, I suddenly spy a figure out of the corner of my eye. I am so on edge that I leap back in animal fright, laying my ears back and fluffing the fur on my tail. My reflection responded in kind.

What I mistook for another parallel hallway is actually a mirror… or at least a sheet of ice polished mirror smooth.

I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I have been frightened by my own reflection, but in my defense, I have not seen myself since my transformation.

I stare at the thing that I have become.

I had at least some idea of the fur and the paws and the tail, but Rook's final gift comes as a shock. My face is still generally my own, but the leopard features are unmistakable. My eyes are the color of polished gold, with the irises covering most of the visible surface. My nose has flattened and the tip has darkened. Feline ears poke out from snarled hair that has become the same silver grey color as the rest of my. I bare my teeth and find that my canines are larger than I initially thought.

I have become a beast, more animal than human.

Resolute, I walk to the doors and through the translucent ice, I can make out dim figures moving in time with it.

I take a breath and push them open to reveal a grand ballroom. The space is impossibly cavernous, larger and more extravagant than any room in the manors of any of the merchant princes in my home country. The space is filled with hundreds of dancers garbed in finery from every conceivable culture, from far distant lands and ages long forgotten. Each one of them is more beautiful than the last. The court of the Lady of Winter. Her collection.

All of them have a strange bluish cast to their skin and frost rims the edges of their clothes. Upon my entrance, the nearest dancers fall impossibly still to stare unblinking at me with impassive expressions. The stillness spreads out from me like a ripple in water and the music fades away.

The room is absolutely silent, I am distressed to discover that the only sound is my own heartbeat. Terror siezes me as some mysterious animal instinct tells me that these people do not smell alive. Nor do they smell quite dead. They are frozen, kept animated and eternally beautiful by the everpresent unfathomable power of this place.

I hear another sound, a slow heartbeat at the far end of the chamber.

I take a step forward and the crowd parts. They all stare at me. They stare at my torn and filthy clothes. They stare at my fur and my tail and my ears and my eyes.

I want to run. I want to flee this horrible place.

I take another step forward and another and another until I finally reach a raised dais.

A woman sits on a grand throne of ice that gleams iridescently behind her. Her skin is impossibly pale and perfectly smooth as if she were carved of ice herself. Her hair is white as snow and her eyes are the color of the pale blue ice around us. A crown sits atop her head, gleaming silver and studded with diamonds. Her dress is some sort of silvery silk, shining impossibly like a mirror made into fabric.

I have heard tales of her. All children have. Be good or the Lady of Winter will come for you in the night. In some versions of the tales she is a witch who gained the secret of immorality. In others she is a spirit made flesh, a physical manifestation of winter itself. She is a collector of souls, stealing people away from their homes and bringing them here.

I am so terrified by her presence that I only belatedly notice the figure seated at her side.

My betrothed is clothed in the very same regalia he wore on the celebration on the eve of what was meant to be our wedding. His heart beats so slowly in his chest and his eyes are glazed over, surely in the process of being frozen like the rest of the people here.

He blinks and some of the fog lifts from his eyes. He stares at me for a long while before recognition finally sets in.

“Astra?” he gasps. “What happened to you?”

I should be relieved that he recognizes me, but terror and doubt and uncertainty eat away at me.

“I came to rescue you,” I confess. “Along the way I met a demon. In exchange for her freedom she granted me gifts to not only help me survive but to reach you.”

His eyes widen in horror.

“You did this to yourself?” he asks. “You made yourself into a monster?”

A monster?

My doubts and fears crystalize in my belly. A wave of despair floods through me, but to my surprise it is followed by a wave of hot anger. Rook has given me incredible gifts, they are unorthodox certainly, but they are beautiful.

“Is that how you see me?” I snarl. “A monster? I did this to save you!”

He recoils at the heat in my voice. He opens his mouth, but the Lady of Winter silences him with a raised finger.

“It seems you have a choice, my pet,” she says, her voice resonating unnaturally from the very walls. “Remain here, unchanged and beautiful for eternity, or return home with your fiancee and the knowledge of what she has done to herself.”

He casts her a wild desperate look.

“You would simply let me go?” he asks.

“There are powers in this world great enough to challenge mine,” she replies. “This one has shown great devotion in making the treacherous journey here. If it is indeed true love that drives her, I dare not go against it.”

He looks back to me.

“Astra,” he pleads. “Tell me there is a way to break your curse. We can return home, we can have the life we were meant to have.”

A curse?

“This… this is not a curse,” I gasp. “It is a gift.”

“Astra,” he pleads. “A demon has addled your mind. You have dabbled in magic. If we return and you stay as you are, there will be no place for you in civilized society.”

His words hit me like a hammer

He truly cannot see the gift that has been given to me, can he?

He asks me to change for him?

What is it that your heart desires?

Rook's gifts, the changes I have wrought upon myself, they were not for him. They were never for him.

They were for me. Rook has granted me freedom. She saw through to the heart of me. She saw the truth in me that I could never acknowledge.

I have been a fool.

“No,” I say.

“No?” he replies, aghast.

“No,” I repeat. “I will not change myself for you. Not any more. I do not care if you leave this place or not, but I will not marry you. I have seen too much, experienced too much. I will not go back. I cannot go back.”

I turn to the Lady of Winter and bob a quick curtsey. I do not know how far her hospitality and tolerance for my presence in her court will last. I turn and walk away from them. It takes all my willpower to not break into a run until I am well and truly away from the ballroom.

But once I do start running, I cannot stop. I run and I sprint and I fall to all fours and lope easily down the twisting paths. I need to be out of here. I need to be away. I need… I need…

I retrace my steps through the maze of frozen stone until finally I step into the sunlight and breathe in the cold mountain air.

The world is alive. I am alive.

I survey the landscape beyond the cliff. Somewhere out in that rough craggy terrain is Rook. I need to find her. I cannot rest until-

“Forget something?”

The voice behind me makes me jump, which in turn produces a familiar snicker. There, lounging on an outcropping above the passage is Rook.

“I can't help but notice that you're alone, little cat,” she says.

“He didn't want me, not like this.”

“His loss,” she scoffs.

I do not fully know why, but the words make my heart flutter.

“It is probably for the best,” I admit. “I cannot go back to my old life… and there is something else.”

She sits upright and cocks her head at me curiously.

“A demon stole my heart,” I confess.

She stiffens and very real jealousy plays across her face. Her reaction is enough to summon forth a mirthful giggle from within me. She hisses and hurls a clod of snow at me before hopping off her perch and standing before me.

“It's me, right?” she demands. “Because if I need to go murder somebody-”

“It is you,” I laugh.

Before she can respond, I grab her shoulders and pull her to my level. The kiss is wild and frantic and not at all proper for a lady of my station.

But I am no longer a lady, am I? I have become something else entirely. I do not know what I am yet, but I intend to find out.

She makes a soft self satisfied moan against my lips and her sharp teeth nip at me. She pulls me close and spins us around, pressing my back into the stone of the cliff. I gasp in surprise, which only goads her more. I melt into her attentions and forget myself

I only pull away reluctantly. Her eyes open and she gazes hungrily at my lips. She wants more. She wants so much more.

I want so much more.

“Please,” I gasp. “I want this… just not… here.”

She glances upwards towards the peak of the mountain.

“That's fair,” she admits. “Where would you like to go, little cat?”

“Anywhere,” I respond. “Everywhere.”

#my writing #writers on tumblr #lesbian #transgender #writeblr #fantasy #fantasy lesbians #nonbinary #lgbtq fantasy #lgbtq fairy tail #transgender fairy tale #fairy tale #monster x human #transformation #animal transformation

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marztarts · 10 months

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(Insert smth gay here)

#mermaid #lesbians #illustration #dnd #fantasy #fantasy lesbians

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i-am-iron-man-3000 · 1 year

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How about instead of doing a live action race-swapped Ariel, Disney could do a movie about a badass siren and her pirate lover. And they’re also lesbians because it would be something new and fresh and also wouldn’t feel as forced as this new Little Mermaid is. Same thing with Peter Pan & Wendy. Like Peter Pan isn’t even fully about Wendy so why is her name in the title. Anyways Disney please do a story about a pirate and her siren siren lover.

#Pirate #lesbian pirate in love with a siren #fantasy lesbians #badass female characters #like dude it would be amazing tho #just think about it like #i-am-iron-man-3000 #live action little mermaid #peter pan and wendy #Disney #ugh

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quidfree · 2 years

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ofc :DD

hm ok fem todobaku hcs for my current fic.... these are a mix of situational psychology and completely unserious fyi hope they are somewhat interesting nonetheless

both of them are obviously #not like other girls in this but in ways that i feel reflect their standings in canon & also the way things would play out in canon if they were girls. like katsuki to me is always a fundamentally privileged and gifted individual but she doesn’t have direct family clout so in this she’s just minor nobility via mitsuki’s half-brother which still leaves them in a very comfortable position & more importantly gives her the confidence/social channel via jeanist to claim her position as an avalonian knight once she displays the required abilities. she’s Aware that she’s an exception but this does not particularly perturb her because katsuki is Always exceptional and cognisant of it. for shouto the fact she’s literal royalty & more importantly the obvious choice of heir also frees her from normal social expectation in the same breath as it traps her in the usual endeavour heritage position. she’s kind of Beyond/above the conventions and constraints of normal society by virtue of her isolation as well. it just felt impt that their positions in the world still feel true to character.

anyways because of the above both katsuki’s knights & shouto’s entourage regularly forget to treat them as the Ladies they are on paper, which they do not care abt but people around them take issue with. mitsuki in particular has thrown things at people for talking abt Her Daughter The Current Duchess of Liones like she’s a sword-brandishing simpleton amongst others. it’s a cultural thing. which also means on the flip side you have people like yoarashi who is from a very Warrior-Centric culture & post deciding to do a 180 on shouto finds it super offensive when people talk to her like she’s Not the skilled fighter she is.

on that note they have both killed people in this au, which is kind of inevitable considering they’re both army leaders, albeit at different scales. i just think making heroism circumstantial is more fun than having 1:1 values in canon and in faux medieval wartimes, + it’s sexier than P13 violence. shouto tends to be in situations where bigger numbers are involved; she does avoid killing where she can but she’s very utilitarian. katsuki usually has to handle smaller conflicts & so she’s probably quicker to go for the throat than shouto is, since there’s no dishonour in striking someone down who’s about to do the same to you.

shouto is such a horse girl in this. like they all ride horses but it just fits the vibe. she has to get across a Really Big Kingdom a lot & she shuns human connection. it’s only natural.

obv katsuki and izuku have their whole ‘izuku was katsuki’s beleaguered page boy when she went off to knight camp before getting to be the chosen one’ backstory, but the katsuki of it all is obviously that katsuki is in fact the (1) girl in knight training and she’s only there because when recruiters were passing through she pulled the whole ‘merida in brave shooting for her own hand’ schtick and embarrassed some actual knights aged like twelve. mitsuki was seethingly mad. jeanist was also not impressed by his niece’s complete lack of ladylike propriety but he knows talent when he sees it so it was off to joyous gard with her.

on that note precocious teen katsuki obviously wasted no time ensuring all of her fellow knights-in-training knew who was going to be ruling the roost, mostly bc of typical bakugou egomania but also so no one got any ideas about their masculine superiority. there may have been some ‘sparring accidents’ and bed-wetting involved before everyone kind of accepted the pecking order. they had some complications when puberty came around- katsuki may or may not have disfigured one or two peers before the dust settled. fantasy medieval times are rough!

shouto on a similar note doesn’t really think of herself in patriarchal terms by virtue of her position/personality but she does have some hangups of her own that feed into the general chip on her shoulder. the court obviously loves to gossip abt their queen the madwoman locked in her tower & todoroki being her spitting image as well as the heir apparent is part of the reason she stays so stone-cold in stressful situations despite the temper flaring beneath. this is also why shouto is older in this fic while still having more of a s1 shouto persona going on.

between the two of them katsuki is the one who primarily dresses in quote unquote men’s clothes despite setting bc she has a Style that is better suited by shirts / pants + she will not tolerate any frills and ruffles and constriction so most courtly dresses are no-gos. shouto as always is less cognisant of anything like a personal style so she doesnt really care what shes wearing & also she kicks ass regardless of what she’s in, esp bc she mostly handles things long-range.

in her infancy katsuki mostly got dressed by mitsuki and an army of servants so there are one or two priceless portraits of her in intensely kitsch yellow dresses with ribbons on her shoes and hatred in her eyes. despite their very distant relationship mitsuki gave jeanist one of these that he kept in his private chambers the whole time katsuki knew him and she can’t prove it was to fuck with her but she absolutely believes it.

shouto’s portraits are far more numerous and fall into 2 main categories which are 1) official portraits, featuring shouto throughout the years and styles with the exact same neutral expression or 2) unofficial portraits, which tend to fall into the romantic category and thus depict her as a sensitive maiden with wistfully languid eyes or blushing demurely at the onlooker. shouto has some strong feelings about painters as a result.

on that note katsuki prefers getting hands-on in fights; todoroki likes them to finish fast, so their choices of weaponry reflect this. yeah they can use their essence but those r less powerful than quirks so often they just go with traditional weaponry also. katsuki is a sword girl bc she likes to get up close and personal when she offs someone and todoroki goes for archery bc she likes being able to dispose of the enemy before they even approach. they both appreciate a good dagger though.

btw the fic should be read as an amv set to get another boyfriend by the backstreet boys but the girls are the ones singing it and midoriya is the hapless protagonist.

#qui parle #qui repond #fem tdbk #fem todobaku #my fic #witvk #all my titles are so clunky to abbreviate lol #tlaao was a good one #rolls off the tongue #fantasy lesbians #anon #i wrote half of this out on my walk to pont-neuf and then tumblr crashed and i had to start over & forgot some of my phrasing. sigh #ugh tags um #fem baku #fem todo

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