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soulmate-game · 3 years

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New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

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For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

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Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

#maribat #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #platonic daminette #platonic jasonette #platonic dickinette #platonic timinette #platonic timari #mlb x dc #ml x dc #maribat fic #platonic brucinette #older sister Marinette

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i-rely-on-you · 3 years

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44!!!!!!!

Thank you so much dear!

This is the 50 Ways To Say “I Love You” thingy so here you go @faytalepsy

My ask box for those is still open in case anyone is interested and you can find this prompt list here 50 Ways To Say “I Love You”

You don’t have to pretend with me

He found her sitting at her desk on this late September evening, still working on grading papers. Hunched over forms, an uncharacteristic hand to her forehead seemingly worried.

He had come to check up on her as he had taken to doing since she had come back from the dead.

It was hard for him to be parted from her for more than a couple hours at a time and he knew she felt the same.

After she had come back and they had fought off Rosalind he had been adamant about not leaving her side, fearing their old mentor could come back to finish the job should he not have his fairy within reaching distance at all times.

He had clung to her like his life depended on it when she had started breathing again after they had dug her up. Soil and vines of the surrounding flowers still clinging to her.

He had carried her inside their school and up to her quarters and taken off her clothes, helped her shower and put her to bed, keeping vigil over her until she had woken up again several hours later.

Her sleep muddled brain still in the throes of a nightmare of being trapped underground had not been able to discern dream state from the real world until he had slid into bed beside her, holding her to him tightly. He had soothed her gently, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances into her ear until she had fallen asleep again.

Seeing her like this now, agitated him. She looked stressed and almost frail. A look he didn’t like seeing on his fairy at all.

Looking up from her work upon hearing him enter she gave him a small smile. It was a genuine smile but strained nonetheless making it seem almost fake if he hadn’t known her better.

Quickly closing the door behind him Saul strutted into the room, a concerned expression marring his features.

“Farah what is it? Are you alright?” The questions tumbled from his lips without pause as he came to a halt by her side.

Reaching for her upon coming to a standstill right next to where she was sitting he laid a hand on her shoulder, the other grasping her hand delicately.

Leaning back a little in her chair the headmistress looked at the forms in front of her again, a big sigh escaping her lips.

“It’s nothing, really.” Casting a warm glance up at him she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. Fixing him with a deep meaningful stare. ”I’m fine.”

Not believing her for a second the soldier stooped down a little and crouched next to her to be more at eye level with her.

Sliding his hand to the crook of her elbow now he murmured softly, “What is it?”

Shaking her head the woman sighed again before loosening his hold on her hand. Letting her face fall into both of her palms dejectedly she let out another sigh.

This worried the man greatly and he wound his arm around her back and took hold of her upper arm gently, his fingers encircling her biceps. Angling himself so as to see her more clearly he tried again. “Talk to me love, what’s wrong?” But the fairy just shook her head once more.

Letting go of her back and arm Saul began to scoot back the chair in a way that she was facing him now and not the desk anymore. He then loosened her hold on her own face as gently as he could taking in her sorrow stricken face and the frown marring her beautiful lips.

She had her eyes closed as he took in her features.

Laying his hand on her cheek softly he made her look down at him with the words, “Hey, look at me.”, to which she obliged instantly.

Her soulful deep brown eyes were pooling with unshed tears and it made his heart stop for a second.

Taking all his willpower not to bundle her up and flee the realm all together right this second the soldier murmured instead, “Come on now, Farah. You don’t have to pretend with me, you know that. Tell me.”

Biting her lip momentarily she looked at him and whispered, “I’m worried, Saul.”

Now it was his turn to shake his head as he frowned up at her, clearly not understanding.

Yes, they hadn’t defeated Rosalind completely and she was still out there but they were careful and had doubled their efforts to keep unwelcome guests from passing through the barrier. He had seen to it himself to have guards patrolling the building at all times.

But they also knew how powerful Rosalind really was and that scared the soldier too. More than he would like to admit.

Standing up tall again he chanced a glance outside the window half expecting to see their tormentor standing at the edge of the training grounds looking up at him mockingly. But of course there was no one there.

Turning back around to look at the headmistress again he wondered, “Did you see something? Was anything amiss today? Has something happened that made you believe something might be off?” He knew when to trust her instincts, as they had rarely ever been wrong. So he contemplated the possibilities that could have spooked her so while letting his eyes scan the training field again.

Her voice shook him out of his observations gently.

“No, nothing was amiss. It’s just-…”, her voice trailed off slightly as if unsure how to proceed.

“I’m just so worried for the children, Saul.”

This he understood. They were under an extreme amount of pressure caring for all of these lives every single day, keeping them safe and away from harm. He instantly knew where she was coming from with this.

“I would not be able to look myself in the eyes again if something happened to one of my pupils. I am so afraid she’ll come back and do something terrible to them like she did to us.” Halting as her words grew more shaky with each syllable passing her lips the fairy closed her eyes again in shame.

Seeing her like this, all worried and frightened made his heart ache in his chest.

Feeling the need to be close to her again he took the half a step towards her and enclosed her in his embrace.

Her arms settled around his lower hips snugly and her head came to rest on the spot between his chest and belly. Pressing her face into the material of his jumper the mind fairy breathed in deeply as if for the first time today, treasuring the smell of him.

Sauls arm snaked around her shoulders and his other hand came to rest on the back of her head where he began to rub soothing circles into her loosely braided hair.

That was also something that had changed with Rosalinds attempt on her life. It seemed like almost losing her life had made her lose her grasp on this stern persona she had crafted so meticulously over the years of being headmistress.

Her trademark hairdos pinning the golden brown locks high on top of her head had given to a more delicate style now.

She had taken to wearing her hair in less strict but no less intricate hairstyles these past few weeks and he liked the look on her. It made her appear softer and slightly more approachable which the students had taken as an open invitation to get closer to her after she had come back.

Hugs had become a daily occurrence now.

Students seeking out guidance in the middle of the hall and after a quick chat grabbing her around the middle gently and letting go just as quickly, throwing her a timid smile in thanks and vanishing off to where they needed to go next.

The first time it happened had been almost comical to say the least but she had taken it in stride and learned to cherish those moments.

The student body was different now. They appreciated her more with each day passing and each and every single one of the pupils made sure that she was well taken care of at all times throughout the day.

Be it juice boxes left at her desk before class had even begun or an apple sitting on top of her books intended for the lesson. It could be a muffin waiting for her on her desk in her office or pupils holding doors for her and accompanying her to her next lecture.

The students made sure to take care of this second chance they had been given with her. Of having their beloved headmistress back.

It was always rather simple things really. But they were greatly appreciated and didn’t go unnoticed by Saul. He was grateful for all these children being there for her.

Rubbing at the base of her neck and sinking his hands into her hair more fully now he massaged her scalp gently, all the while being mindful of the few pins holding the strands up.

He drew her nearer slightly before craning his neck down to whisper to her softly, “We will get through this Farah.”

He knew it was futile to be making silly and unwarranted promises because he knew some things were just out of his control but he could promise her one thing.

Letting his arm drag across her back gently and holding her to him tightly he vowed to her, “We will bring an end to this. She has caused us so much misery for way too many years and she will pay for what she has done to you, I promise you that.”

Feeling her nod into his belly and grasping onto his jumper more forcefully now he promised her one last thing.

“And I will not part from you ever again until my dying breath. This I swear to you.”

He had been given a second chance too, he knew. And he would make damn sure to make this one count.

He heard her sniffle slightly before pulling away from him a fraction to be able to look up at him. Her eyes shone brightly, tears still clinging to her lashes but her face was clear and open.

Her hopeful look had him smile in return and lean down to press the softest of kisses to her forehead. Lingering there for just a minute breathing her in, he relished in the feeling of her warm and soft skin.

They stood like this for a while, never relinquishing the hold on the other. For how long they stood there they didn’t know. And it didn’t matter.

It was Saul who broke away from her first.

Taking in her sleepy look he held out his hand for her to take and pulled her to her feet slowly but surely.

“How about something to eat? I’m famished.”

This made the woman giggle, a sound he would never tire of hearing for as long as he lived he was sure.

“You are always famished Saul.”

Pulling her around the desk he stopped by the coat hanger and helped her into her jacket, making sure to pull her hair out of her collar as he did so.

“Ah yes, that may be true. And you know what really helps with that? Spaghetti!”

The laughter this pulled from her lips made the specialist practically beam with pride at being able to make her forget the world around them even if only for a little while.

Pulling her into his side he began leading her out of the room and into the hallway all the while keeping a firm grip on her side.

To any other person it might’ve seemed possessive the way he was holding her to him but to her it was heaven. She felt safe in his embrace, surrounded by his scent and warmth. His strong arms banding around her, encasing her and holding her close.

“Is it because it’s the only thing you can actually cook without burning down the kitchen?”

Chuckling at her jest he looked down at her and found her gaze seeking out his, her face glowing with mirth.

Positively beaming now he gave back, “Maybe? Are you complaining?”

Shaking her head she whispered a soft ‘no’ before letting her head fall to his shoulder gently. A small sigh of contentment accompanied the movement as she let him lead her through the narrow hallways and dark corridors of their beloved Alfea.

There was nothing they couldn’t get through together she believed that now.

Always had, really.

Because they weren’t just ordinary people. They were Farah Dowling and Saul Silva. A fairy and her specialist. A powerful unit and a force to be reckoned with.

And as long as they were together, they would be fine.

They would just have to make sure to hold onto each other tightly.

Nothing easier than that.

-fin

Thank you so much for reading ☺️ I hope you like it. Be sure to leave a comment to let me know what you think 🥰 kudos is also greatly appreciated ♥️

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#farah dowling #saul silva #silrah #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga #fanfic #ao3 #farah dowling x saul silva #farahs hair #bring back farah dowling 2k22 #farah dowling supremacy #farah is taking a nap

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shadowsfascination · 3 years

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Shadamy swordland AU - part 4

The air was knocked out of Amy’s lungs by his statement and her skin paled, drawing long shadows over her usually cheerful face. Her head began to ache and she rubbed her forehead as if to rub to swirl of emotions inside her away. Shadow on the other hand crossed his arms and legs, a hint of sorrow playing his ruby eyes.

Amy hunched her back and leaned on her hands, eyed Shadow and drew a breath. She intended to speak, but found no words. Instead she watched the light of the flickering candle cast constantly changing shadows on him, the warm tones of its’ flame contrasting with the now chilly atmosphere between them.

Unaware of it Shadow gritted his teeth in distress. At a total loss for words or the slightest idea how to behave in this situation, he chewed his lip and mildly pinched his arms. He couldn’t talk anymore. It was somehow beyond his control and he despised powerless it made him feel. His body froze and the longer the silence lasted, the further the words drifted away from him. Meanwhile his mind became a cacophony of tangled, blurry thoughts.

I have to snap out of this!

Shadow took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tracing the source of the messed up chaos energy in his body and changing it into a state of tranquillity again.

“Amy.”

The sudden renewed confidence in him broke not only the silence, but the seal between them as well. She couldn’t somehow deny his gaze and locked eyes with him, her eyes full of questions and expectations. He took her hands to cover them in his own. They were warmer than she’d expected.

“I cannot explain any of this to you.”

Amy frowned at him in annoyance and backed off to escape his hold, her eyes starting to blaze. A series of angry growls escaped her lips and she clenched fists. Her knuckles made a cracking sound from it. “Please, oh please tell me you’re joking!”

He blinked twice, innocence and incomprehension written all over his face.

“I’m not. It would be a poor jest.” “You can’t just drop this bomb on me, fall quiet and then not explain any of it!”

She was prepared for a whole lot of it, but this? – she thought to herself. As soon as the thought landed in the conscious part of her mind she labelled herself a fool, questioning what she did expect from him. She knew Shadow… Why did she keep getting so thrown off by his untactile behaviour?

Blood rushed through her veins at high speed, causing a rustle in her ears. There it was again: the unwanted announcement of her bad temper. He’d soon have to deal with it if he didn’t make haste with properly explaining this… mess! At this rate, she still had control over her temper, but that could change in the blink of an eye. “You’re not saying anything yourself either. Although, knowing you, I hardly believe you don’t have any questions. I’m not throwing that in your face, am I?” “Well, can you blame me?!” “A little, yeah. You carry your heart on your tongue. You always know what to say.” “I don’t right now!” “I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to spare my feelings and I don’t care for it.”

“Oh no, Shadow. You’re NOT shifting YOUR responsibility to explain who you actually are to me.” “I’m not.” The pink female whirled around and caught his attention with her fierce turquoise orbs. The warm, yellowish tones of the dancing flame were fighting for precedence with the luminary aqua in her eyes. He could see her hands gesturing, signalling him her upset internal state in the blurry background of his view.

“Then talk.”

“I can’t.” “Blast, Shadow! I can’t believe how incredibly rude you are to me! I’m your girlfriend! You’re keeping so many important things from me…I wonder how you in 300 darn years still achieve to be totally oblivious about how to act polite and chivalrous around a woman!”

“You should know me better than to mistake me for a soft, gooey fool who drops every aspect of his personality when with a woman. I might be a knight, but surely I’m not going to be your imaginary heroic boyfriend. Or always treat you like a queen when you’re being a huge pain in the ass, Amy. If that’s what you want, than better rethink your choices…”

Another of her romantic bubbles burst by another blunt statement, one he made her aware of she had it in the first place. Amy shifted her headstrong gaze to the red, green and blue-checked woolen blankets on the bed. Ignoring him, she distracted herself to follow the lines from the wrinkles on them with her fingers. The raw texture of the wool prickled through her gloves. It was a unpleasant feeling and she wondered how he was able to sleep under them.

“… Besides: I’m sharing my deepest secrets with you! Do you think that’s easy for me? What more could you possibly want?” “I want you to explain who on Mobius you are!” she shouted. “I want you to explain how it’s even possible to be that old? I wanna know what you are. A ghost? Some divine creature? And what about your strange, dark powers and the stone?! Did you have kids in the past? What does this all make you?!” Both their ears fell back, the awkward silence became deafening on them. Amy’s eyes reddened from the upcoming tears and anger. She bit her lip and bravely fought against the waterworks. A few salty tears quietly dripped down her cheeks though. Amy battled the strong tendency to cry once more. She felt so hideous whenever she cried- and she did see herself cry before. She felt she looked awful and so she did her uttermost best to hide it- in comparison to when she was a young girl. “What’s it make us? Just tell me.. something! ANYTHING will do!”

Her loud, hoarse voice cracked and she sniffed. Shadow’s hand squeezed and crinkled the blanket with force. He cursed under his breath.

“I KNOW, OKAY?! I know ANY words will do, but there are no words! NONE! They’re stuck! I don’t mean to be rude or inconsiderate of your feelings. Plagues! If anything, that’s what’s making me freeze up. I have no idea at all how to handle this!”

An upcoming sense of guilt sent a series of shivers down her spine. Her stupid pride and temper pushed him too far. A lump in her throat now accompanied the already present stress-related stomach aches.

“I don’t either… It’s scaring me.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Shadow, I don’t want to be the reason you’re holding back. And don’t tell me I’m not, because I know I am. Sorry about that. Just spill. I’ll learn to deal with it.”

“It’s not just that. I can’t verbalize all this.”

He concentrated on the chaos energy in his body once more, shards of them whirling around like a hive of bees. They seemed impossible to catch. His focus shifted to his irregular, high paced breathing and he breathed out some of the stress in his body. The shards immediately lowered their impossible-to-follow rhythm and he was finally able to catch some of them.

I never lose my confidence.

With a certain determination Shadow grasped her gloved hands. They were tensely folded into fists. Their touch revealed the quivers they were both trying to control. Shadow suddenly scooped her onto his lap and then rose to carry her bridal style, all much to Amy’s confusion.

“However, I can show you.”

His signature self-sufficient smile now curved his lips.

“Come on, I’ll carry you. I know how much you love this romance-stuff and I am a knight after all.” He blew out the candle, letting the darkness swallow them entirely before calling out the ‘Chaos control’. With this single chant he overcame the barrier of space and time. The darkness around them swiftly faded into a serene surrounding, filled with flowy, intertwining ruby, royal blue, shiny silver and regal gold ribbons of light.

They weightlessly soared through the pacifying, outstretching void. A sea of glowing orbs laid ahead of them and with confidence. Shadow commanded some of them to come closer, each carrying a memory. He let some fragments play out before her eyes to see for herself what happened in his past, for he was unable to tell her.

It was all there, right before Amy’s eyes: the mystery of what he was, his unknown origin and lonesome existence by surviving everyone he’d ever cared for in the past. He had roamed around the planet for years and years in order to keep his immortality a secret.

There was also a set of painful memories in which he was fighting, on the run or hiding for the many different faces of danger. They were a tad blurry and she couldn’t quite capture the meaning of it. The memory of the unknown hero neared and she witnessed his amazing powers, bravery and strength. It replaced her unsettling state of being with much softer feelings, easing her temper away. Amy smiled when concluded to herself that neither his physics or personality had seemed to change. The Shadow she knew now was as stubborn, blunt, socially awkward, dedicated, loyal and brave as in his past. Without having to verbalize he answered everything she wanted to know and more. Amy’s sweet, caring nature calmed her temper and she empathized with Shadow. She felt for the challenges his long life had brought upon him and pulled him into a deep, consoling hug.

“Shadow, I’m sorry I pushed you. I misjudged and jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

The scenery of his bedroom slowly faded in again and Shadow gently put her down. He lit the candle again. A shameful blush coloured his cheeks and played his eyes. His ears drooped backwards. Shadow felt like he was stripped to the bone. “I know everyone thinks I excel in many things, but communicating my inner state isn’t one of them. It heaves me down whenever I… feel strongly about something. Actions speak louder than a thousand words to me.”

“Thank you for being honest with me, for showing me all this. I imagine it must’ve been hard on you. You seemed so lonesome all these years.”

Hiding his face in his hands, he stared without focal point in his gaze. Shadow broke down internally, forcefully biting the insides of his lips to prevent him from crying like an infant.

“You’ve seen it for yourself now. You’ve seen me fight…My past…It’s the most private thing that I carry with me.”

“You don’t have to carry this burden all by yourself.” “You’re the very first to learn about it.”

“I already assumed I was, given your struggle to share it with me. I’m glad you told me.”

Amy smiled, trying to lighten up the mood again. “It’s awful and humiliating to share. I even killed in the past. I can’t help but feel like a monster sometimes. It haunts me.”

“You’re a knight. There’s times where you’re left no other choice than to eliminate your enemies. If anything, you’re a hero, Shadow.”

“I’m not! You weren’t there! Y-you d-d-don’t…You don’t know…”

He whimpered almost inaudibly while his shaking body sank into her embrace. Amy petted his back and caressed his quills while he hid his face in her chest. She cupped his tear-stained muzzle and made him look her in the eye. When his red, bloodshot eyes met her aqua ones they showed the strong-minded, yet hopelessly emotional Amy Rose Shadow had fallen for.

“There’s still so much that I don’t understand, but my emotional compass tells me you’re reliable and trustworthy. I’d like to believe you must’ve had your reasons… Tell me whenever you’re ready.”

She let herself fall back on the bed and pulled Shadow onto her, snuggling up to him under the prickly woolen blankets. On any other night the knight would’ve protested and let his self-discipline never allow her to stay over, but they were exhausted. Shadow and Amy couldn’t battle their minds anymore and forgot about the possible consequences they’d have to deal with in the morning. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. None of it. Even though their minds were loaded with troubles, which usually would’ve kept them awake, it somehow did not tonight.

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I struggled with this chapter. I’ll try to make the next one more uplifting (: Sometimes it seems to me that neither of these two dorks know a single thing about relationships, yet they have so much love to give to one another.

I’d appreciate if you share your thoughts and send me a message if you find any annoying typo’s or grammar mishaps.

@shadamyheadcanons, here you go!

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {3}

Summary: When emotions run high, even soulmates fight. But, following his brother’s advice, Ethan finds a way to make up for it by including his soulmate in solving a conspiracy theory leading to events that would surely make them much closer than they first were. Plus, it shows what a dynamic duo they make.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing

Word count: 7.5k

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist

A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are.

I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!

If you want to be tagged for future parts, reply down below.

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Induratize – to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or the idea of love

Pain. That's her first grasp on reality. It's not something she's unused to; just as she's used to the smell of the disinfectant, Y/N knew of pain in all varieties. However, for the first time ever, she had something different in a hospital setting - a hand to hold.

From time to time, Ethan’s eyes drop to the bed sheets, but mostly they are fixed on her ashen face in a soft stare so that whenever she opens her eyes he’d be the first thing she sees. And once he notices her fingers twitch in his hold, he holds his breath in anticipation of her reaction. He feared she might be unhappy with his presence, but he refused to let go, simply closing his eyes to hide his vigilance.

Opening her eyes in a flash, her neck cracked with the sudden movement for she had to see who the hand belonged to. For a moment she thought it might be one of her parents, the painkillers playing with her mind, making her forget. But she knew it couldn't be them. It was impossible unless there was a new drug that raises the dead.

"Grant?" She croaked, her throat scratchy and her voice hoarse, the consequences of her throat closing leaving her with something to remember for a few days. Who knew she'd manage to get a penicillin allergy after her...fiftieth time taking it? She always felt like a magnet for bad luck and that incident didn't dissuade her.

Ethan wasn't really asleep, not after the night he's had. She needed oxygen more than once and her blood pressure kept dropping even with his efforts to keep it up. It felt like she decided to leave him and no matter how badly he fought for her, she was slipping through his fingers like sand.

"Yes?" He murmured, eyes still closed, lips set in a frown as if hearing her call him Grant didn't make his heart jump. He wasn't a morning person and she just realized it. Three nights they've truly known each other, three nights spent together and only on the third did she stay long enough to learn that and the only reason why she stayed is because she was physically incapable of leaving.

"Do I have the fucking plague?" She cracked a smile, struggling to speak but for a reason she couldn't quite understand, Y/N wanted to speak to him, for him, to make him laugh. The frown on his face hurt her more than it should.

She didn't get a smile, but he did open one eye in uncertainty, allowing him to bask in her meek smile. It wasn't much to someone watching from the sidelines, but it meant the world to him. She wanted to cheer him up. She wanted to see him smile. Even with her know it all, sassy, fuck the world mask, Y/N cared for Ethan and he knew that now. Even if that part of her is small, it's a start. Her heart may be hardened to love and soulmates, but he was softening her up. It’s a slow, difficult process, but Ethan is nothing if not dedicated.

"No. Neither of us got the plague, but the man who did have it died." Ethan told her, deciding hiding it from her isn't wise. She'd ask about him anyway.

Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand out of his, wiping it on the sheets as if his touch is unwanted - as if he was the one who initiated the whole thing.

"Great, so when can I get back to work?" She propped herself up on her elbows, willing to get back on her feet. In her ambition to get back in the operating room, Y/N completely missed the dismissive shake of Ethan's head and the way he jumped to his feet to pull her back.

"You're not going anywhere. In fact, you're on leave for the next week." Ethan stated, a little harshly for his taste but she gets his blood boiling way too easily and he always falls for it. She's a beautiful woman, but it's not her beauty that drives him insane.

"What do you mean? I'm an intern! Interns don't take sick days!" She insisted, sitting right back up, the stress his words caused raised her cortisol and adrenaline levels up in an instant. In all his years, he had never met a woman as stubborn as she is. For Ethan, Y/N was either wildly naive or dangerously intelligent and it is the kindness of her heart and the sharpness of her mind that enriched her soul and drew his close.

"Well, they do when their boss says so and I'm saying so. I've talked to the chief and he agrees. So, you better not show up here before next week and when you do come back, you will be doing scut for a week." Eyebrows knit together, eyes hard, Ethan seemed like an unrelenting force she couldn't fight. Not now when sitting up made her woozy and she knew he was right.

Not that's she'd tell him that.

Ever.

"Why scut?! As if being home isn't punishment enough? What am I being punished for? Huh?" Lowering her voice, Y/N felt her heart skip as the thoughts formed in her head and her mouth was quick to follow. Sometimes she acted on impulse and it wasn't always for the better.

"For leaving the morning after? Because I'm not your hookup, Grant, I am your intern. You don't get to tear into me just because I fucked you once." Swallowing thickly as she stared at his impassive face, she knew she went too far and it wasn't the time nor place and far from the way she wanted to address that night. She was just angry, trying to get some control over the situation she had no way of controlling and it absolutely drove her mad. Perhaps she wanted to get a rise out of him too. So she fucked up. She could tell just by the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched and the warm flames in his eyes were extinguished.

"You have your orders. I have nothing else to say to you." Ethan turned on his heel and before she had a chance to stop him, to apologize, to thank him for saving her life, Ethan was already gone and she was left with regret and guilt.

Too used to pushing people away to protect herself, Y/N now spent her time hating herself for being so quick to speak her mind. Maybe if she was softer, playing dumb like men expect girls to, Ethan would have let her come back to work. But no, she couldn't hold her tongue and she could never play dumb to get anyone's approval. She'd hate herself more if she did.

However, she could always annoy him for progress. What more could he do? He already put her in the corner for doing everything right and then he gave her the worst job for a week to keep punishing her! At least she could get some justice by getting on his nerves, texting him random facts about animals, sending him memes on mean bosses and even voicemails where she talks herself to death about how she was right and he wasn't. All she got was Seen and a daily delivery of chicken soup with bagels and a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice. The Get Better basket never had a note, but she knew it was his doing. Ethan cared, even if it’s a little and she couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on her lips every morning she received his thoughtful gift.

But Ethan was worse off than her. After finally having her back in his life, he managed to make himself the enemy. And he knew what he was doing was for her own good so she wouldn't make the same mistakes again, so she could use the week off to get back on her feet because going into anaphylactic shock isn't a walk in the park like she pretended to be. If he didn't bench her she would have put her health at risk and he couldn't let her do it.

Eunoia – beautiful thinking, a well mind

"You sent her home?" Grayson whisper shouted, swiftly pulling Ethan into the on-call room.

"She almost died! What am I supposed to do? Put a scalpel in her hand and let her cut someone open when she's barely standing on her own two feet?!" Ethan wasn't quite as quiet as his brother, his emotions on the verge of spilling out like a river once the dam breaks. Ethan always went through the extremes – he either loved too much or didn’t care at all, the same could apply to his temper.

"No, but you could have let her do paperwork? To observe? To watch your department for you?" Grayson listed which made Ethan's eyes widen, realizing he might have been harder on her than he thought. She’s too good at pushing his buttons, he knew it, but this good? For him to think so irrationally he couldn’t understand his own choices or see beyond his emotions? Never did he realize her influence went so deep.

"Just look at it this way: if you got sent home for a week in your intern year, you'd hate the attendee who did it. And she's more than just an intern and you need to be more careful if you want her to see you as more than just her boss. You're acting like a soulmate not a professional." Grayson explained and his clarification had stumped Ethan. He really needs to think before he acts but she makes all rational thought go out the window.

"But I also gave her a week of scut." Ethan sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. He couldn't take it back just like that because she'd see him as easily manipulated and he couldn't allow that to spread among the other interns. He had to be a little harder than he should if she wanted to know that everything she got was due to her hard work and not because she slept with him or because she is his soulmate.

"You're in big trouble. But I do recommend you to find a way to work with her on something. It doesn't have to be a surgery and it doesn't have to be in this hospital. Find something to connect over."

Thinking how his brother is now the one who has his shit together made Ethan smile but it also made him worry. Isn't Grayson the one who does things impulsively and fucks things up? Seems like that's no longer the case but at least the advice he gave Ethan was enough for him to get an idea.

It took him a couple of days but when inspiration struck, Ethan was so excited for the implementation of his plan for more than one reason – it was for the greater good and he’d get to see her again. Any excuse to do that was more than exhilarating.

He didn't wait after his shift was done, driving to her apartment with the sole intention of convincing her of a theory many would think was insane but he was sure it was a conspiracy she could help him with.

Knocking on her door, he exhaled loudly, shaking his hands vigorously to get the nerves out. It took everything in him to stop himself from running because his heart beating so loudly was driving him insane and quite literally making him panic.

When the door finally cracked open, Y/N peeking through, Ethan felt his heart calm down and his lips pressed together.

After the way she attacked him the last time they saw each other, Ethan didn't expect her to smile at him nor let him in so easily, however, she opened the door widely and gestured for him to come inside.

He was still angry about how she spoke to him, the crudeness of her words making his blood boil but he also missed her in the past five days she had been away and he desperately needed to see her.

"What can I do for you, boss?" She leaned against a wall, looking at him intently with a small smirk upon her lips. It fell odd having him in her private life, as if he was slowly infiltrating every part of her life, making it impossible for her to ignore how badly she wanted to rip his clothes off and ride him until they're both sweaty and tired with loopy, lazy smiles as they hold each other close even after they finish.

Blushing with her thoughts, Y/N cleared her throat as it seemed Ethan wasn't listening to her before and was too busy looking around. He wanted to see her life, the part of her he'd never know if she was just an intern.

He loves the flowery light scent of the room, even more so the colorful yellow walls and green couch. He loved the art hanging on the walls and the way her carpets were all flower themed. Her entire apartment, or at least what he saw so far, had a spring theme and Ethan felt at ease.

"I'm assuming you're here for a reason, not for decorating ideas?" She cocked an eyebrow, speaking louder this time around and it certainly got his attention even if him turning around had made her breath halt in her throat. It enraged her just how attractive he is.

'Why does he have to be so fucking sexy? Like, he’s just kinking his eyebrow and not even in the obvious, over the top way he usually does! He does it so casually, so unaware that it only makes it sexier and damn it, Ethan Grant Dolan, you are ruining men for me!'

But she doesn't say any of her thoughts out loud, only swallows thickly, reminding herself of the reasons why he's not right for her.

"I have a theory and I need your help to confirm it." Swiping his thumb under his bottom lip, Ethan stepped closer. "I had a patient a while ago with breast cancer and her heart was failing due to chemo. After two doses. So, I did some tests and found there were no signs of breast cancer." Ethan waited for her to realize where he's going with this, wanting to see how quick she is on her feet and not even a second later she stood up, no longer casually leaning on the wall.

"So they're giving chemo to earn more money to patients who don't need it? They're purposefully giving people fake cancer diagnosis? How are their stats?" She spoke quickly, passionately as if she was angry, wanting to start a war. And he liked it - the way she thinks, the way her mind works and how it perfectly matched him. What he lacked, she compensated for and what she lacked, he was more than capable to cover for her. They were, despite all odds, a very dynamic duo and Ethan would soon find out just how well they work together.

"They have a ninety percent success rate for breast cancer patients." Ethan noted and he knew she was on board by the way her fists clenched and her eyes hardened. It felt like she was fire and he would have to contain it - contain her, although he’d love to set her loose on the world and see just how extensive the ruin would be.

"Well, I assume you want me to go with you and act like I found a lump so they can misdiagnose me and order me to be on chemo? To see how it works before we burn them to the ground?" She crossed her arms, raising both eyebrows in expectation and even if he wanted to, Ethan would follow her - to the ends of the Earth if necessary.

Forelsket – the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love

"Welcome to Smooth Cat." Ethan exclaimed as the passenger door closed and she joined him inside. She didn't quite linger on the car, barely sparing it a glance at first and he knew right away no amount of expensive shiny things will win her over. She wanted something deeper than his pockets.

"You named your car Smooth cat?" She deadpanned, her determination for this case wavering as the amusement showed in her eyes. For once, Ethan managed to make her break the cold surface with just words. Although he didn't think it was as ridiculous as her tone made it out to be.

"Don't hate the kitty when it purrs so nicely and runs so smoothly." Ethan responds, his head high and his lips pursed and so dramatically that Y/N had to crack a smile. For a moment, she mistook him for a humorous person, one that she could imagine herself laughing beside her whole damn life and that thought alone made her heart erratic and her mind chaotic.

"So, you plan on letting me come back to work a bit earlier?" She questions, figuring it's worth a shot especially when they have nothing better to talk about and the awkward silence would drive her insane otherwise. She needed the distraction and he posed as the perfect one. Just as he did that first night.

"No. Not after you went into anaphylaxis and I nearly lost you." Attempting to keep his voice calm and his head leveled, Ethan felt like his heart couldn't follow that instruction. It was more than obvious he couldn't just go back on his word. A leader is consistent and in that hospital he is meant to be a leader, not her soulmate. But his words also showed her his feelings run deeper than he shows.

"Can you honestly tell me that this is how you'd treat the others? I'm not trying to start anything but would anyone else have to do scut? Or is this about our history?" Gnawing on her bottom lip, her tongue dancing along the inside of her teeth as she waited for him to respond. She noticed his eyes turning to the screen of his car instead of the road ahead, tapping something before he turned to her entirely, his hands off the wheel and it made her eyes widen. "And can you please not get us killed?!"

"It's a Tesla. Drives itself." Ethan spoke as if that meant anything to her, as if her anxiety didn't spike at the notion of a car driving her to safety on it's own. She didn't believe that would be a safe way of traveling at all, not that Ethan seemed any better.

"And you're right. I wouldn't treat any other intern like this. In fact, if it were any other intern talking back like you did? They would be suspended." And his eyes didn't waver, looking deep into her own without blinking. Ethan meant what he said with every atom of his being and she knew it too. She knew now that she was right; he did treat her differently, she just didn't know it was for the better.

"I was angry." She quipped, swallowing her pride she saw fit to apologize even if it went against everything she wanted to do. "I'm sorry for being an ass to you...in fact, I wanted to thank you for saving my life that night."

Ethan nods, tongue swiping his bottom lip as he opens his mouth to speak. "Which night? The first one felt like I was quite heroic too." Winking, he couldn't help but notice the way she plays with her fingers, fidgeting nervously, affected by the same memories that haunt him.

"It certainly wasn't heroic but it wasn't...anything less than enjoyable either." She remarked, raising an eyebrow at his statement as if she is unbothered when in fact she is very, very bothered and horny and he could probably tell by her shy smile, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction just yet. Not until she knows where his soulmate is. Whoever it is, she needed to know if that person was in his life, to what extent and if he would be able to ignore that she has a soulmate too, wherever they may be...In a way she wondered if he was the one, but life would never serve her such luck. She's used to not getting favorable things...or men in this particular case.

"Oh, I think otherwise. I even have a certain pair of torn up lace panties and a bra to remember it by." Ethan raised his brow just the same, teasing her relentlessly, genuinely curious how red can her cheeks get. Because as much as he tried to, he couldn't forget the moans he evoked or the way her head would fall back with every dance his fingers played on her. She was and still is the muse for every dream, every fantasy and every lonely night he had to take care of himself.

"I -", Ethan leaned in, ready to hear what she has to say, thinking this might be the right time to tell her he's her forever, but Smooth Cat decided cock-blocking is acceptable and announced their arrival.

Clearing her throat, Y/N broke the eye contact, feeling the intensity of his earthly hues deep inside her heart - eyes that hooked her soul to attention only he could provide. "We should probably get in."

With a nod, Ethan opened the door and she followed his example, walking inside without turning back to look at him, determined to do this right. But for that, she had to swallow her pride once more and play the role.

Just as they enter the main hall, Y/N wrapped her arm around Ethan and his heart almost stopped with the sudden contact. She pulled him closer, glancing up at his poorly hidden shock and smiled meekly but her eyes were anything but - her eyes were hard and they were warning him to play along.

"Hi. Could you help us?" The way she asked felt so...polite? So sweet and innocent, too naively put for Ethan to ever buy the act but the sap on the other side seemed fooled.

"Of course, what can I do for you?" The guy smiles nicely, straightening his back ever so slightly to seem more confident.

"My name is Bailey Nolan and this is Grant Nolan, my husband. I, uh..I was doing a little checkup during shower and I think I felt a lump. In my breast." Shifting her voice to a smaller, fragile tone had surprised Ethan because for a moment he actually believed her too. She is all too convincing. Especially on the husband part and he can’t help but tense up when she calls him that, nor can he stop his heart from pounding uncontrollably with the notion. He imagined her calling him her soulmate and husband so many times since they first met, but to hear it felt divine. It felt better than he thought it would and he just wished she could have said it while gazing in his eyes, his arms around her as he holds her close.

Leaning in closer to the receptionist, Y/N glances left before she whispered softly: "I'm scared it might be cancer."

It didn't take long for the two to be accompanied to an examination room. With instructions to prepare for the exam, Ethan and Y/N found themselves alone for a little while.

"Expecting a free show?" Y/N narrowed her eyes at Ethan, her hands clinging to the gown left for her to change into so the examination would go quicker. She was more than willing to lose her clothes that night they met, but that was under the cloak of night and this? Being in a well-lit room with nothing to draw his attention from her body? It didn't make her as happy to strip down and flash her boobs.

"It's not like I haven't seen them before, ya know? I know exactly how they look." Ethan's cocky voice had caught her off guard just as the little step forward he made toward her. With a raised eyebrow and a vain smile Ethan tilts his head and Y/N wanted nothing more but to wipe that smirk off his face. But she couldn't. Not when his words are facts, not fiction and especially not when her body ached for his weight on top of hers.

"I kissed every inch, even the little mole nested right between -", stopping him before he finished his thought, Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes set aflame as she felt her face burning, her voice low and cold as she spoke. "I get it, but I'm asking you to stop. To not look at me now and not look at me during the ultrasound and please, for the love of God, bring me my bra back." She spoke fast and with uncertainty, mostly because she was more than lost in this new situation where she managed to not just stumble upon a one night stand but to work for him and the power balance is way off and she can’t help but feel very threatened by that.

Did she love how powerful and ambitious Ethan is? Absolutely. Did she enjoy him bossing her around? Not a chance. And she is right, the power balance in their relationship is way off, but not in the way she thinks.

She was completely unaware how whipped Ethan is for her and the way she leans a little closer to him when they talk but she doesn't do the same with anyone else. And he's absolutely crazy about the way she ties her hair in a braid so quickly while she's in the hospital, or how she seems to have fire in her soul, making her a force of nature. And yeah, she is making it hard for him not to move in and kiss her every chance he gets, but he needs to do this right. Her views on soulmates don't seem to match his and he wanted her to love him for who he is and what they've experienced together, not just a bond made by a single look as a gift from destiny. And while she changed behind the curtain, Ethan wanted her to know that too.

"I won't look. I wasn't going to. Just teasing you, darling. But the bra is mine to keep."

Necrophobia – fear of death and associated things

Before she gets a chance to retaliate, the doctor entered the room, introducing himself as Y/N laid on the table, her eyes glancing to Ethan who focused on the doctor instead of her breast as the man began a palpable examination first.

"I don't feel the lump, but I'd like to do an ultrasound too, just to be sure." Raising both eyebrows, Y/N wondered if the man had been wrongly accused by Ethan, making brief eye contact with Ethan who forgot himself and his promise for a moment in his own surprise.

"Oh." But then the doctor stopped, looking closer at the screen with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed and Y/N lifts her head.

"Oh? What do you mean by oh?" She demanded, Ethan leaning toward the screen to see better himself but even he wasn't the best in reading breast ultrasounds, that was more Grayson's specialty.

"I'm sorry to say, but I believe your worries were right."

Ringing in her ears, Y/N felt like someone hit her over the head with a rock, her mind stopping as her eyes moved to the screen the man turned for them to see.

"This", the doctor pointed at the screen and Ethan leaned in closer, his heart beating out his chest as his hand blindly searched for Y/N's to hold, wanting to give her comfort as well as seek some reassurance for himself.

"This is a solid mass and while we will need to do more tests when you're ready, my experience taught me this is often a malignancy. It's where most cancers show statistically, but you're young and I feel we caught it in time. We can set up an appointment for confirmation and more imaging, but I'm confident we will win this."

And the doctor spoke, explaining things Y/N could barely hear, feeling like she's under the water, dragged back into hell she barely escaped.

Not even realizing it, she found herself back in Ethan's Smooth Cat, her hand held tightly - no longer gingerly touched, but strongly feeling Ethan's presence. She was so thankful for that. So, so thankful.

With a growing lump inside her throat, Y/N couldn't speak, panic spreading through her as she felt Ethan's other hand touch her cheek, his thumb on her chin, tilting her head toward him.

"I called Grayson and he will meet us in an examination room at the breast unit as soon as we arrive. Remember we can't take anything he says as factual before we check. Okay? You're okay, darling. It's going to be okay." And while he tried to put up a brave front, she felt the tremors in his hands and she heard him swallow tears.

Nodding, she let out a heavy sigh of relief, his words reminding her why they were at the clinic and although she saw the lump on her ultrasound clearly, she prayed she wasn't that unlucky to get cancer. Again.

Rushing to the breast unit, Grayson is already at the door, waving the two inside. Upon entering, Ethan is basically helping Y/N rip her shirt and bra off, her breasts no longer off limits as both of them are out of their minds with worry.

"Wow, Ethan, stay the fuck outside!" Grayson shouted, throwing a sheet over an exposed Y/N, horrified by his brother and his disregard for her comfort and needs.

"We're way past that!" Ethan and Y/N scream in unison as she tosses the sheet off. Breathing uneven, her cheat rising with every shallow breath she takes, Y/N turned to Ethan who was ready to scream but stayed a few feet away. But then she outstretched her arm, her hand open with the palm turned up, her fingers wiggling to invite him closer.

Slightly reluctant, Ethan took her hand in his, fingers intertwining as he rests his elbows on the gurney, his eyes looking into hers only to find fear and unshed tears that disarmed him faster than he believed possible. It's not a secret she's been ruling his heart and mind since they met...since before that, but he never realized how willing he'd be to fall victim to her, to be her captive, to stand in the eye of the storm and admire it even when it threatens to destroy him.

Two hearts beating as one, their eyes speaking volumes about what they can't say just yet, it felt like the world faded and no one but them remained.

But the magic had been broken once Y/N felt the coldness of the gel on her breast, her hand tightened around his and her eyes closed shut. She couldn't handle seeing it again: her dreams all die and her journey to return to start - alone again, rotting in a clinic with nothing to hope for. She found medicine the first time, her graduation and desire to travel the world the second time, but third time? What will she have to look forward to? Eminent death and impending doom of finding a soulmate she never even knew about? Or Ethan?

But he has his soulmate, she reminds herself. He probably has someone waiting for him to come home, a beautiful woman, maybe a couple of kids? Who knows? He wouldn't be her saving grace this time around.

"Good news. The guy's a fraud. This ultrasound is clear. There's nothing malignant here." Grayson's smile is quick to spread, to lighten the somber atmosphere and while he probably should have stopped there, it wouldn't really be Grayson if he did, especially when Ethan and Y/N remained silent, processing the news a bit too long for Grayson's liking.

"Yeah, in fact, this is beautiful breast. It's truly phenomenal, like exquisite -", and that's when Ethan and Y/N finally tuned in, the looks on their faces saying just how far he went. Ethan covered her breasts so fast, pulling his body halfway over hers to protect her from view, his glare burning holes into his brother who raised his arms in mock surrender, defending his honor and quite frankly his life.

"I was just going to say it's like a perfect anatomy, nothing sexual."

"Bro, just go. Leave while you're still ahead." Ethan practically growled through gritted teeth and Grayson didn't plan on sticking around for those teeth to grab a hold of his throat. Because Ethan reminded him of a lion, king of the jungle and he looked ready to kill to protect his lioness.

Selenophile – a person who loves the moon

Scratching the back of his head, Ethan stepped away, releasing her hand reluctantly with a sigh. He wanted to keep this moment going, to have her so close and while he hated himself for it, he liked being needed that day. Every look she gave him, every touch no matter how small, it made him feel wanted like never before and for the first time in forever he just wanted to stay in the moment with her.

"Are you okay?" Ethan's voice is rough, his throat scratchy and his heart slowly calming down. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze, allowing her to sit up and get dressed without having her yell at him for peeping.

"I...I guess. What are we going to do about this guy?" She changed the topic deliberately, scared she might say too much because this fright had brought her back to all those times she was stuck in the hospital, alone and terrified of what might become of her. It reminded her of the friends she saw die and of the days she thought she would too.

"Grayson? He didn't mean anything by that, he just word vomits whenever he's nervous and it got fairly awkward really fast." Ethan chuckled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth, dragging them across the soft flesh before releasing it a shade darker.

"No. Not Grayson. I mean that quack of a doctor who told me I have cancer!" She raised her voice inadvertently, hoping Ethan wouldn't notice the raw emotion behind it nor the loss of common sense that washed over her.

"I have a solid amount of paperwork proving his scams. I just wanted to know for sure today. Grayson is already dealing with it. As you can tell, my brother is a boobie lover and he won't let this man get away for all the boob owners that were tricked into this." Ethan watched her back move with her shallow breaths, her inability to turn around and look him in the eye raising his anxiety levels with each passing second.

"You don't fuck with people like that. You just don't." She mutters quietly, her voice just above a whisper and Ethan can feel his heart break and he doesn't even know why.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Y/N stood up, meek and shaken and so clearly in need of distance because if she stays even just for a minute, Ethan will know one of the worst things she had to endure and she couldn't do that. She couldn't let him in. Not when he can't stay. So she did what she does best. She bolted out the room, ignoring Ethan's pleas for her to stop and talk to him.

She went to where she was the first time she met Ethan. She went to where her life was supposed to start and it did...In a way, that day was the best day of her life - she was free of the curse her body was under and she met Ethan.

So yes, she ended up in the Oncology ward, gowning up before entering the room where comatose patients struggled to survive. As weird as it is, it had always been her favorite and least favorite place to hide from the world, a place she could find peace and serenity but also reconcile her life might end in one of those rooms as well, so she always sat there and just reminded herself to breathe as long as she could, as fiercely as she could.

She sat by one of the patients, looking sadly down at their broken, beaten bodies and how it betrayed them in the worst possible way. As usual, most patients are older or have their grey hair as proof they found their soulmate, but then again, she saw two kids there too.

She was once a kid on these ventilators too. Her friends were on them too. Not all of them made it out.

Comas aren't romantic at all like in the movies, she knew it better than anyone. The person in that bed isn't flawlessly combed nor do they have make up to cover their flaws. They aren't comfortable nor is their spirit waiting by the bed as their loved ones come and go, confessing how much they love the unlucky bastard for years to come. No...coma is what takes the basic human pride and decency. It strips you of all that makes you human. Some survive and recover, going home with amnesia for the time they spent in their state, some don't survive it at all...but there is a third option for those who survive, but they aren't exactly alive. For them, coma means tubes being stuck into their nose for feeding, into their mouth for breathing, into their urethra for peeing and a diaper for shitting. It means eyes covered with gauze to help keep their eyes moist, their throat cut open to move the breathing tube if that state continues; wires, needles, medical students practicing on them because they aren't supposed to feel the pain. It means pressure ulcers that turn into huge gaping wounds because the nurses are understaffed, overworked and underpaid and can't possibly move every patient in time to prevent complications. And the worst part is that the longer they are comatose, less people come to see them. They're alone, abandoned in a room without any chance of recovery, robbed of their right of moving on, truly being liberated. They would welcome death doctors are forced to keep away.

And she had witnessed it happen far too often. She had seen many comatose patients in her time during her stays in the hospital because of her cancer. Some of them she'd visit at night because she felt bad for them, others were her cancer buddies who were losing the battle. Either way, there wasn't anything to romanticize. Coma isn't a pretty state, it's her worst nightmare.

"You're not okay."

Startled, Y/N looks back at the door, aware who it is before she sees the person the voice belongs to. And there he is, the man she wants to know more than anything but can't allow herself to care. If they were meant to be, if he is her soulmate, he'd tell her by now. Right?

"You're always running after me." She smiles weakly, the sadness in her eyes tearing into Ethan who, even now, saw her as the most beautiful creature to walk the Earth. In his hundred plus years, Ethan never saw a human as flawlessly beautiful as her.

"Someone's got to." With a slight shrug, Ethan sat on a chair beside her, his eyes fixed on her with a softness behind his hazel hues she rarely saw in anyone. He cares. She could see that now and no amount of fear that evoked would make her walk away. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to look at her as softly as he does now for the rest of her life.

Y/N no longer cared about whoever her soulmate is because she couldn't imagine caring about someone as much as she does for Grant, not ever.

"When I was nine I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer with metastasis in surrounding lymph nodes. After surgery and chemotherapy they said I'd be fine. They said it would be like nothing ever happened. But it wasn't fine." Swallowing a growing lump in her throat, Y/N glanced at Ethan who looked distressed by her story, like his heart had fallen through the cracks and shattered on the ground. But it was too late and she could tell he was staring at her throat for signs of surgical scarring and she felt self-conscious just like she did when they first cut her open.

"I learned to hide the scar with either scarfs or make up. And I thought I could move on and be happy but I was fifteen when I was rushed into the emergency room because I collapsed in school. Turns out the metastasis were in my lungs and while they were unsure if it was truly related to the first cancer diagnosis or if it was a new sort, one thing was sure...I needed more chemotherapy...more pain, more hospitals, more lonely days and nights and I had no one. My parents were always too involved with each other and their jobs than me. I was alone. And scared. Studying medicine saved me." She sighed, looking over the patients.

"The chemotherapy ruined my bone marrow, a little something I found out in my last year of med school after which I had to wait almost a year while I got a transplant and my immune system normalized. It was the only good thing my dad ever did for me." She shrugged, daring to look back at Ethan who looked so frustrated with what she went through, horrified by the thought of her being alone all those years when the worst has happened to her. And he hated he wasn't there for her.

"The night we met? At the bar? I was here for a final checkup because my doctor moved. I got the all clear and I was depressed I had no one to celebrate the official news of my remission and my life getting back on track." She admitted sheepishly.

"But as great as it was, we can't go back to that. You are my boss and I'm your intern and while it's going to be hard, we have to let it go. So, can I please just get back to work?"

Shaking his head, Ethan chuckled in disbelief.

"You're with Grayson next week and every free moment you have you will deal with my paperwork. That's all I can give you. But you can't seriously expect me to forget that night. Or any of it since." His demeanor changed and the softest he had about him had disappeared.

"I appreciate you telling me all this and I wish I could have been there for you, I do! But I am here now and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. I care for you. But you drive me so mad sometimes." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ethan tried to calm down and actually be supportive because it was hard for her to open up to him like she did and he wanted to be understanding but every move forward ends up being two steps back with her and Ethan was stressed and tired and he needed her to realize she was stuck with him.

“You’re like a book! A big, strange book I barely understand.” He was slowly losing patience, she could tell. And a part of her hoped he’d let her go and give up. A part of her prayed for it to happen. But another part, one hidden deep inside, that part wanted Ethan more than the oxygen she needed to breathe. He was her oxygen, the air her soul needed. And he wasn't letting up, despite it all.

“Learn me slowly then. Please? Just be patient with my pages.”

And in that moment, they shared a silent agreement. In her darkness, he saw her light shine through. He is a selenophile and she his moon.

In that moment, Ethan saw fit to lean closer, his eyes glancing at her supple lips before focusing on her eyes again. He wanted to make sure she wanted it to happen as much as he did, even if it was completely inappropriate from the place it was happening down to their work relationship. It was all kinds of wrong, yet it felt right. It felt so, so right.

She didn't move away, she didn't make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover's touch for when Ethan's lips brushed hers, nothing mattered anymore.

Just before letting go and surrendering himself to this gentle surprise, Ethan looked at his soulmate with a new hope in mind and a promise he would never let her demons drown her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @heyits-claire @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes @iwastornsincethestart @graydolan12 @fxkthatdairy @zeusgrayson @libradolan @justordinaryjen @pineappledolan @graysavant @voguekristens @imayoutubere @livexdolan @shadowsndaisies @maybgrayson

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan soulmate au #ethan dolan series #ethan dolan doctor soulmate au #ethan dolan doctor au #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan x you

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spidermando · 5 years

Text

I love you {pt.1}

Pairing: Peter Parker X sibling!Reader, Quentin Beck x reader

Word Count: 1.6k+

Warnings: Nothing so far!

Authors notes: This is the first time I've written in months, please go easy on me. Also, this will be a series? so stay tuned!

Masterlist

Before the whole Thanos snap, Peter had been your little brother. Five years sat between the two of you and despite being powerless, you still attempted to protect him.

After Captain America led that huge group into battle, which ultimately ended Squidwards life, Peter was suddenly your very annoying little brother. With the ten year gap now between you, you sat in the middle of your twenties, while he was still a teenager whose voice cracked at inconvenient times. While May was missing and Peter was merely dust in the wind, Tony and Pepper had taken you under their wing. However glad you were for your family to return, the sting of Tony’s death ensured that you did anything and everything in your power to protect Peter. You were no longer looking out for him as any big sister would, you were covering for Mr. Stark too. When Peter left Earth, you were his older, dorky sister. When he returned you were his much older, fist fighting sibling with her very own Stark suit and hero name. With every breath you took, you cared for Peter and Morgan, going as far as following Peter’s grade around Europe. Without his consent or knowledge.

When a tornado with a face appeared in Mexico, Nick Fury reached out to you. Agreeing to help, in order to spare poor Peter, you were unpleasantly surprised to find out these monsters were coming to you in Europe. By your understanding, Spider-man would be left out of this fight as long as you stepped in.

Late one night, after yet another attack, Fury directed you to some dodgy caves where SHIELD was set up. Much to your shock and horror, Peter was already there, shaking hands with a much bigger, older, gentleman.

“Ah, Miss Parker. Glad to see you’re finally here.” Fury’s voice rang out.

Peter’s look of utmost confusion did not go unnoticed by you as you walked further into the light.

“Well, there’s lots of dimly lit tunnels here in Venice. This is the fourth one I’ve entered.” You responded an edge of anger in your voice.

“I hope there was no trouble.” Fury replied, ignoring your tone.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Turning around to face Peter, the features on your face softened a little. “Hi, Pete.”

“Y-y/n? I thought you were in New York!” Peter squeaked out, leaning closer to you.

“As if. Agent Parker has been following you during your time in Europe, haven’t you Y/n?” Fury answered for you.

“Wait, what?” What little distance Peter had closed between the two of you, he quickly opened again. “You’ve been stalking me?”

“Less like stalking and more like protecting from afar.” You grimly smiled, knowing you’d done the wrong thing but finding it hard to regret your decision.

“So stalking,” Peter stated, his eyebrows lowering slightly.

“I only did it because I worry about you.” You reached out to touch him but recoiled when he pulled away, acting like you were a disease he didn’t want to catch.

“You don’t have to worry about me! I’m fine! I’m just trying to have a good time with my friends, can’t you understand that?” He sounded hurt, betrayed even. Had you known it was going to be such a big deal to him you would’ve run the idea over him first.

“Look, I’m so-”

You were cut off mid apology by Fury, who simply walked over and talked over you. “You can have your domestic another time. We have actual important things we need to discuss.”

You felt your blood begin to boil, first, he drags you into this, then your brother and then he has the audacity to speak over you like you were some common peasant. You don’t know what’s got his knickers in a twist, but lately, you’ve wanted nothing more than to punch him in his stupid, arrogant face.

“Y/n, meet Earth’s newest hero.” He gestured to the man beside Peter. You’d been so caught up with your brother that you’d almost forgotten about the stranger standing beside him. Almost.

Finally looking at him, your eyes skimmed over his solid chest, large shoulders, chestnut brown beard, plum lips, and perfectly styled hair. He looked too good to be true, almost like he had a styling crew right around the corner to do his touch-ups. But what really caught your eye was his eyes. They were a shade of indescribable blue, so deep that you could drown in them. On the surface, they looked like any other normal eyes, but deep down something else rippled inside them. Was it anger? Terror? Spite? It could’ve even been arrogance, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. All you knew is that they drew you in and took your breath away.

You brought out of your thoughts by a subtle cough, delivered by none other than Peter. Shaking your head to metaphorically shake yourself out of it, you looked down only to see the strangers hand extended in your direction. Moving forward, you wrapped your hand around his in a firm grasp.

“Y/n Parker, nice to meet you.” You murmured, looking down at your joined hands as you were still captivated by the mere memory of his eyes.

“Quentin Beck, nice to finally meet you too.”

Your hands left one another's and finally grasping the confidence to look back up, you caught the subtle smirk playing on his lips.

“This is going to sound incredibly weird, but you have beautiful eyes.” You said lowly, intending the words for Quentin’s ears and Quentin’s ears only.

“Thank you.” You could’ve sworn there was a splash of pink dancing along his cheeks, but his beard made it hard to tell.

“If you two are finished flirting, we’d like to get on top of this elementals situation.” Fury stated, causing your face to turn bright red.

Refusing to address what he had said, you continued on as normal. “Elementals?”

You spent the next twenty minutes learning all about these four creatures, and Mr. Beck (who had asked you to call him Quentin). When it came down to his family, who were tragically killed by these creatures, your stomach wouldn’t stop turning.

One, Quentin had a family. The people he loved were ripped away from him by these disgusting monsters. His planet was destroyed and yet here he was, fighting to save yours.

Two, Quentin had a family. He was loved by these people and loved them in return. How could you, a 26-year-old girl from Queens, ever replace that? At least you found out now and not ten months down the track where you’d inevitably grow feelings for this beautiful and kind man.

After a little more discussion, a plan was hatched and Peter was finally sent off to his hotel.

“Peter, can we talk?” You followed him out, desperate to fix your sibling relationship.

“Not now, please Y/n.” He moaned, stopping to turn to you. He must’ve seen your face drop because his eyes softened. “Look, I’m still mad at you but I understand why you did it and I forgive you, okay?”

“Don’t say that just because it’s what I want to hear. Be honest with me.” You replied, sick of pity because it’s all you’d received these last five years.

“I am being honest, okay? I’m just tired and over it and I just want to go back to my hotel and sleep.” His voice was softer this time and the bags under his eyes became more noticeable.

“Okay.” Your voice was low. “I love you.”

You’d made sure to end every conversation with May and Peter with I love you since they’d gotten back. At first, it seemed weird to them, but when you explained that for the last 60 months you’d thought they were dead and that you’d never get to hear them say those three words again, they softened up.

“I love you too.’ Peter spoke just as softly, “goodnight.”

And then he turned his back to you and exited the tunnel, Fury’s man leading him back to the hotel. At least he was safe.

“He’s a tough kid, he’ll be fine.” The voice startled you but you knew who it was almost immediately.

“He’s not that tough and he is still a kid.” You responded, not looking at the man beside you. “But I know he’ll be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because if he’s not, then I don’t know what I’ll do.” Sighing, you finally turned to your counterpart. “Let’s get off this emotional conversation now, how are you finding this earth so far?”

“It’s okay, there are a few things that are different but overall it seems pretty similar,” Quentin responded, looking directly into your eyes. “I could always do with a tour though.”

“I’ll be sure to let Fury know,” you jokingly replied.

“Haha, very funny.” He then proceeded to laugh. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?”

“Well, my original plans fell through. I don’t think Peter would be all that impressed if I decided to continue stalking him.”

“I thought you were simply protecting from afar?”

This time you laughed, a smile graced your face as your conversation continued. “Touché.”

Quentin smiled at you and you couldn’t help but imagine what his lips would feel like pressed against yours. Would they be soft? Chapped? Warm? A feeling of resentment traveled through your veins. How could you think that? This man is dealing with the grief of losing his family, yet here you are, imagining kissing him. Disgusting.

“You alright?” He must’ve noticed your sudden turn in emotions since his eyes were filled with concern.

“I’m fine. ” You replied, your voice clipped.

“It looks like you could use a drink.”

“Are you trying to get a personal tour, Mr. Beck?” You replied, the playfulness slowly returning to his voice.

“Perhaps.”

“Well you’re doing a good job, I’ll happily go get drinks.” You smiled. “But I doubt I’ll be the best tour guide, I've only been in Venice for two days.”

#spider-man #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #mysterio #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck #x reader #x sibling!reader #x parker!reader #spider man far from home #spider-man far from home #avengers #marvel #angst #fluff

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franeridart · 6 years

Note

Happy 1000th post to one off my absolute favorite artists on Tumblr!

This is it!!! The 1k post on this blog!!! It’s me finally getting my ass into gear and answering the asks in my inbox!!! As good charm in hope of not waiting so long from now on hahaha thank you so so much, by the way!!!! :D

Anon said:LITERALLY YOUR TODOROKI IS THE BEST THING IN THIS CRUEL WORLD I LIVE THE WAY U DRAW HIM IM EMOTIONAL HHECK ALSO ALL THE REST OF UR ART IS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD ITS SO NICE UR CHARACTERS ARE LIKE VERY LONG NOODLES THEYRE GOOD™

THANK YOU FOR EVERY KIND WORD AND ESPECIALLY ABOUT THE TODOROKI ONES HOLY SMOKES!!! I don’t draw him much sadly but he’s super fun and comfortable to draw for me, it’s nice to know he also comes out well!!!

Anon said:So like,,, I really miss your bokuroo ;^; Will you ever post with them again???

I haven’t taken a vow that forces me to never draw them again, so, possibly! At the moment posting for the haikyuu fandom is giving me more sad feelings than anything else though, so I can’t promise that’s gonna be any time soon, I’m sorry

Anon said:bruhh i listened to that chiodos song under ur halo, and that one by memphis may fire that was w that bakugo art that was called not enough and uhhhhh ur music taste is dope care to share some more songs?

SURE I’m glad you liked those! Everything by Memphis is A+ and I love it so if you haven’t you should check out more stuff by them ( No Ordinary Love is super nice, That’s Just Life is very dear to me and so is Divinity, Speechless is… my otp song for every otp ever tbh) - Bring Me The Horizon is my fav post-hardcore band and both MMF and Chiodos are that genre so if you don’t know them give them a try! (Blasphemy, Run and Doomed are between my faves out of the latest album, and since you liked Under Your Halo you’re probably gonna like Follow You too) the album right before is amazing too if you’re okay with less melodic stuff, but the further back you go with BMtH the harder to listen to they get, just a heads up - Sleeping With Sirens are on the softer side of post-hardcore lately, Fly, Left Alone, Trouble, Fire and Empire To Ashes are some great ones, between the many, and, uhhhh, at this point I might have recced Nothing More a hundred times but let’s make it a hundred and one, try Funny Little Creatures, Do You Really Want It and Go To War out of the newest album! If you’re into punk and female voices you should check out Tonight Alive too, Jenna has one of my two fav female voices in rock right now (Crack My Heart and Temple are the latest two songs out!) and since I always rec stuff but I never rec anything by my favorite band ever, you ever heard of Alter Bridge? They’re more towards hard-rock/alternative metal, but check out Blackbird, Fortress, I Know It Hurts, Cradle To The Grave and Broken Wings just to make it one for every album I really, really adore this band and everything they ever made

Anon said:I adore all of your art, especially your bnha art!!! I had so many of your drawings saved to my drafts before I read the manga and was really looking forward to catching up so I could look at them all!! They’re all fantastic

AHHH THANK YOU!!! This made me smile lots, I’m so glad you like them!!!

Anon said:What’s coming up? Fluffy, dorky or angsty? (I’m talking about your next work XD just to be sure) Have a great day my friend!

LMAO this was about this one right? I’m sort of a fool honestly cause as I drew it it… didn’t feel actually all that angsty to me? I mean, obviously it doesn’t come after anything happy, but they’re working things out! Making an effort! Loving each other enough to try and understand each other better!! I drew it as something positive but in hindsight I should have expected the reactions lmao so I honestly dunno, I feel like telling you it’s most probably gonna be something happy but as it seems I angst without even realizing, lately #rip

@not-enough-kaneki said:Pass the happy! 💛 When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications! 😊

!!!!! my cats!!!! tea and coffee!!! Bakugou and Kirishima and Bakugou-and-Kirishima and the squad!!!! not having an headache!!!!!! the sound of ocean waves and the sun on winter days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! new music I like!!!!!! nice asks and lovely tags under my art!!!! that’s more than five things but a lot of stuff makes me happy tbh !!!

Anon said:one of my favorite parts (i love every bit of it) of the holiday pic you drew of the squad, is they each have their own personal mug. 10/10

I didn’t think you’d be able to notice Mina’s!!! I’m glad it was visible, I thought I had made it disappear into the background hahaha thank you!!!

Anon said:i just went through your entire kiribaku tag and, honestly, gay (also ur art is soooo good and pure and thank u so much for all the content u make for bnha 💖💖)

It is very gay, isn’t it? The other day I was going through my old stuff and I think I might have slowly turned them mushier oh my hahaha I’m glad you like my stuff, by the way!! Thank you so so so so much!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Thank you for sharing the beautiful Bakusquad Christmas! It’s very colorful and warm & it gives me such a comforting feeling! I love looking at all the details! Kami & Sero’s ribbons, everyone’s mugs, the decorations, all so cute! Especially Mina’s bulletin board with the photos, charms of the boys, & the little alien dude (?) Each time I look at it, I see other cute details!! Sorry to bother you, but thanks again for sharing your art with us! I hope you had a very Merry Christmas!!!!!

It’s not a bother at all!!! Thank you so so much for looking at it long enough to notice all those details!!!!

Anon said:You are so good at giving advice omg

I wouldn’t say I’m especially good at it, I just say what was useful to me lol but thank you! It’s a nice thing to be told

Anon said:Dude, your bakusquad drawings are awesome! Keep up the great work!

Thank you!!!!!!!!!!! I’m super glad you like them!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:The new chapter made me think about Bakugou dealing with his squad as babies all over again. Toddlers would probably be worse.

Depends?? Actually??? Like, at least toddlers aren’t gonna steal his gauntlets and tell him he’s lame and punch him just for the hell of it and be a bunch of smartasses and assholes like. Compared to this bunch of baby-Bakugous he has to deal with in the new arc maybe the squad as toddlers would actually be refreshing lol

Anon said:Um I have a very real crush on ila? Can we please know more about her??

I’m ??? so happy you like her!!!!! I don’t wanna say too much about her cause until I draw her in comics I won’t be too sure about who she really is, but she’s!! a pianist, very tall and sorta insecure about her physical appearance, very soft spoken, incredibly gay, scared of sensory deprivation of any kind. Her full name is Ilaria! Dav calls her Aria, which means air in Italian~ they’re pretty good friends, I have a comic about that I’ve been meaning to draw…

Anon said:So, you like KiriBaku with songs, so what do you think of You Had Me At Hello by A Day to Remember? Particularly the lines, “What have I gotten into this time around, I know that I had sworn I’d never trust anyone again, but I didn’t have to. You had me at hello. I’ve never seen a smile that can light a room like yours, it’s simply radiant, I feel more with every day that goes by.”

s o f t…………. ;; also incredibly fitting considering Bakugou decided Kirishima was his new favorite hero the second time he spoke to him, like, god bless I love those two s o m u ch this one I’m listening to it right now and having feelings (is it Baku to Kiri? Kiri to Baku? why not both for double the feels)

Anon said:Hey Fran!! Have you been keeping up with haikyuu? If so what do you think about the Miya twins? (Personally I think they’re pretty okay, they’re funny when they interact with each other. My favorite of the two is Osamu haha)

I don’t mind them! My fav out of Inari is Kita tho, have to admit - that said I have… sort of been ready for this game to be over for months, now………………

Anon said:Okay but imagine….. Kirishima with freckles

I’ve drawn that, now and again!!! the latest one was this one, and another one I remember is this one :D I’ve been liking the idea of him with freckles even more since it’s become official his hair isn’t naturally red? So now and again I add them in, even though they’re usually not much noticeable haha I do so with Bakugou too from time to time, actually… and the rest of the squad… I just… love freckles a lot… haha

Anon said:Love the squad, love the squad kisses.

HECK YES the goal is to draw at least one smooch for every couple sooner or later !!!

Anon said:I hadn’t even realize that I stuck around for a whole year OwO, anyways, congratulations! Your art style has improved much more than you think, especially since you’ve gotten more into coloring ^o^ I noticed that you’ve also been doing more complicated poses too, so, it’s the little stuff that counts ♥️👍 Hope to see more spontaneous art next year, love you Fran!

THANK YOU SO MUCH I love you lots too??? honestly??? This ask means the whole world to me, I really can’t see much improvement after all but knowing you can DOES help a whole damn lot

Anon said:So I came across this fanfic where Uraraka and Todoroki were a thing. I’m personally not a fan of this rare pair, but the whole scenario was the cutest thing ever. Todoroki basically asks Uraraka to help him confess to Midoriya, but in the process falls in love with her instead.

Awwww that sounds cute! Can’t say I have any particular feelings about the ship, but I am up for Todoroki with nearly anyone so why not!

Anon said:Bro bro bro I’m sorry if this is the wrong channel to go through or something but holy shit I just spent hours going through your entire tumblr and your. Art. And. Concepts. I… can’t??? DUDE YOU’RE AMAZING AND YOUR TATTOO AU!! I?? Just thank you so much for all the awesome work you do honestly made my entire fuckin week with your blog, you are WICKED GOOD AND FUNNY AF. That’s all I got go on with your day you talented ass fiend

I’M CRYING!!! OH MY GOD THANK YOU!!!!!!! I’m gonna pick this ask and frame it right on top of my desk!! The heck!!!!!!

Anon said:Why is Bakugou such a fuckin meme

The real question is why is everyone in class 1A a meme. How do they even keep up. How much of the shit they say on a day to day basis is actually just catchphrases from other 1A kids repeated over and over again. How much of the deadpan ridiculous shit Todoroki says has become an inside-joke. How many 1A kids move and talk like Iida just for the hell of it. How often do they yell DIE at inanimate stuff when it pisses them off. How much stuff is defined as manly even though it has nothing to do with manliness. Do they say “going wheey” instead of “frying one’s brain”. Can anyone outside of 1A even understand them when they speak at this point.

Anon said:You are amazing human bean and I love you 💖 Keep being great ✨👏

Thank you??? ;O; I’ll do my best!!!

Anon said:Just annonly passing by to tell you I F'ing love your take on Ashido And the Kids XD … Way to much fluff And laugh for my heart

THANK YOU!!! I’m happy I can make you laugh!!!! :D :D :D

Anon said:I love you god bless you and your art! THANK YOU!

NAH THANK YOU FOR BEING THIS NICE!!!

Anon said:Hi! I absolutely /adore/ your BakuKiriKami art! I was wondering if you had any headcanons about them/what inspires you to draw them?

More than headcanons for them I have an incredible amount of scenarios I’d like to see them in! And when they’re compact, complete things I usually draw them, which is what inspires me really haha that, and seeing them interact in the manga! Lately I’ve been really drawn to Bakugou and Kaminari’s friendship, actually, so the romantic stuff has fallen in the background while my mind is preoccupied with thinking about them as platonic good pals ahhhhhhh as soon as I’ll work through it I’ll probably get back to drawing them as romantics, that’s just how my mind works lol

Anon said:I love the casual clothes you design for MHA characters! And I really enjoy reading your headcanons-always creative and fun! Is there anything you’d add to anyone’s hero costumes in class 1-A (something that might prove useful/practical for them, or something you’d add just for the heck of it)? Sorry if this is a stupid question or if you’ve answered a similar question before. Thanks for your time!

It’s not a stupid question, don’t worry!! But I generally like to leave myself in Horikoshi’s hands for this sort of stuff, since I both enjoy the costumes as they are AND don’t want to be disappointed in case what I hope for doesn’t actually happen - that said, I’ve mentioned before that I’d really like Aoyama to get redirectors for his laser on his palms and for Kaminari to get a close combat weapon, since with the quirk he has anything metal would actually work wonders for him! He mentioned a sword, but I rest my case that tonfas would be cool, I really want him to use tonfas. A “costume” I don’t understand is Hagakure’s, by the way - would be nice if she got an actual costume and also I don’t really get why she’d wear gloves at all?? Mirio’s costume was made using his hair, I really want her to get something similar! That’s about it tho, I haven’t really thought much about anyone else in that sense~

Anon said:Hello! A few weeks ago I asked about the bracelets you drew for Baku & Kiri. (That art is so beautiful!!) I was wondering if there’s a story behind them; such as, did one of them buy the pair, or did they pick them out together? I’m sorry if it’s a dumb question and if I’m bothering you.

THIS ASK I had lost it, thank you so much for sending it my way again! Actually, Kirishima bought it for himself and Bakugou - I mean to draw a small thing for it, be patient with me while I try to get my ass into gear for it ;O;

Anon said:It’s been a while since you’ve done any BakuKiriKami, do you still like that ship?

I do - as I said a few answers above this one, I’m just finding myself weirdly invested in a platonic relationship between Bakugou and Kaminari at the moment, and also Bakushima stole my focus and soul, but I do still like the ship a whole damn lot, definitely still my fav ot3 in the manga~

Anon said:I love your drawings so much, they always make my day seeing them. But I gotta say that kiri with his hair down is my weakness. He just looks so pure, the cuteness factor goes through the roof.

Thank you???? The Kiri thing is true for canon Kiri too, I’m glad I can bring it in my art!!! Mostly cause when I draw him with his hair down I’m never really sure what the hell I’m doing, I’ll be honest with you lmao

Anon said:hello, holy fUCKin shit how are you this damn good at drawing? like, fuck? thank you, bless you, have a nice day

THANK YOU! And all I do is draw, really lmao I wouldn’t say I’m all that good, definitely not anywhere near the artists I admire, but since all I can do is draw as long as I keep doing that I guess I’ll get there, sooner or later hahaha

#fran answers #im gonna use the holidays as my excuse for how long it took me to answer all of these #....yeah #yeah im gonna do that #oc asks #anonymous

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darling-cas · 6 years

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All Is Well: Mor X Vivianes Sister

TOG/ACOTAR Christmas Fic Co-written with @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks

Summary: While visiting the Winter Court Mor runs into Viviane’s sister, Selene. A Mistletoe may be involved. CANON.

Note: I am seriously in love with Bianca and working with her was beyond amazing! I remember messaging her months ago about one of her ACOSAP edits and she followed me that night and I freaked out I was so excited! So to actually get to collab with her on something is more then I could ever imagine. Seriously, thank you so much for joining me on this project darling. I had so much fun and would write with you again without a second thought, XX

All Is Well Masterlist

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The click of heels on marble floors echoed off the high ceilings as Morrigan followed the servant through the corridors.

The walls of the Winter Court palace rose out of the polished floor and swooped in concave arches overhead, glittering icicles hanging off the domed roof. The last rays of evening sun filtered through the tall windows and broke through the ice in a kaleidoscope of colour. There were as many ice sculptures in the Winter Court palace as there were marble busts of scholars in the Day Court, and the sparkling ice mirrored the beauty of the twinkling stars of the Night Court. It was a breath-taking sight and no matter how many times she had seen it before, Mor was still impressed by its beauty.

The servant pushed through a set of wide doors and led Mor to a sitting room decorated much like the rest of the palace. An imposing ice chandelier hung in the middle of the room above a white velvet sofa, a thick fur rug was spread out on the floor and and lazy flames danced in a marble fireplace. In the corner, a fir tree decorated with glimmering baubles, candy canes, pine cones and magical lights stretched out to the lofty ceiling. Despite the ice decor and the smouldering hearth, the palace was heated by magic, so Mor did not feel cold in her Night Court attire that left the tan skin of her arms and midriff bare.

“I’ll let the High Lady know you have arrived,” the servant said. Mor nodded in acknowledgement and moved to the Christmas tree. It was a smaller one than the imposing tree in the entrance hall but Mor knew this was the tree Kallias, Viviane and their close friends and family liked to put gifts under. An array of colourful presents was already scattered under the branches. She placed the stack of boxes in her arms on the floor and started carefully spreading the presents around the base of the tree. She smiled to herself as she took in the mound of carefully wrapped presents. They had all agreed to exchange gifts after the High Lords’ Yulemas Banquet the following day but Morrigan had never been one to follow the rules. She loved surprises too much to resist the temptation of showing up early with presents.

Viv is going to die when she sees the dress, she thought, as she thumbed the gold ribbon on a box. She had begged Rhys for weeks to tell her the name of his personal tailor but he hadn’t relented. Instead, he’d personally brought her the dress for Viviane and, surprisingly enough, it was the perfect style and colour to complement her friend. Mor had no clue where Rhys was getting all the splendid gowns from, but as long as he was willing to provide her with garments for her own wardrobe, she wasn’t going to complain.

“Come back here, you rascal!”

Mor’s head shot up. A loud crash and a string of curse words followed. She straightened and looked towards the door. The commotion seemed to be coming from the hallway Mor had walked through just minutes ago, so she made for the exit.

“You little devil!” someone said between laughs. The silvery voice had a slight lilt to it and a smile stretched on Mor’s face in recognition. “You’re trying to get me in trouble! Stay still!”

Mor opened the door and stepped into the hallway trying hard to hide her amusement at the scene before her. She leaned a shoulder against the doorway and cleared her throat.

“Morrigan!” The woman’s normally pale skin was deliciously flushed and Mor didn’t know how much of it was from the chill in the air outside and how much was from embarrassment. Mor thought she looked as lovely as ever. Her chestnut hair was braided down her left shoulder and her icy blue eyes shifted from Mor to the squirming animal in her arms. Mor could no longer contain her grin.

“Hi, Selene.” She tilted her chin towards the sitting room, a question in her eyes and the woman just walked into the room instead of replying. Mor made sure to close the door behind her as Selene put down the furball which turned out to be one of the arctic foxes the Winter Court used as messengers. This one was just a cub and scampered away and started sniffing everything in the room as soon as it was set down. “Who’s your friend?”

“He’s an early Christmas present for my sister’s tiny tot. Kallias was less than pleased with the gift, but I volunteered to take care of the cub when they’re busy.”

“You’ve been an aunt for barely a few months and you’re already spoiling the child, rotten!” Mor teased.

Selene smiled. She shrugged off her fur-lined cape revealing the white tunic and trousers tucked into knee-length leather boots underneath. “I was not expecting to see you before the Christmas Banquet. What brings you to the Winter Court?”

“Do I need a reason to visit now?” Mor’s tone was serious but her eyes sparkled in amusement.

“Of course not, all-powerful Morrigan!” Selene leaned into a mock curtsy, holding the skirts of her imaginary dress as she bowed her head. “We are humbled that you deemed us worthy to visit. We shall henceforth have a yearly celebration to commemorate this day.” As she straightened up and noticed Mor’s quirked eyebrows, Selene burst into laughter, the sound twinkling and light and Mor couldn’t help but laugh too while Selene kept up the charade. “I’ve made the Morrigan laugh. Oh, what a blessed day it is! I have never seen such beauty before my eyes!”

Mor crossed her arms in front of her chest but her full lips were still stretched in a wide smile. “Oh, you’re incorrigible, Sel! You haven’t changed one bit!”

“I wasn’t joking, you know.” Selene took a step forward, her expression soft and sincere. “You are exquisite, Morrigan.”

It always took Mor by surprise to see how easy it was for Selene to speak her mind. The Morrigan’s gift was truth. She spoke freely and candidly and she appreciated the truth above nothing else. Most other faes and humans, however, were guarded and uncertain and they cloaked their feelings between layers of ambiguity or deceit, lest they get hurt. They used words as masks and curtains to hide the vulnerability underneath. But not Selene. She wore her heart upon her sleeve, she lived genuinely and unapologetically, and Mor had been entranced by it from the very first moment.

After all the years of Amarantha’s reign and Hybern’s war - turbulent and violent times that had changed both Prythian and the human realms so drastically - she was glad to see that Selene had remained the same. She was un unyielding pine tree unchanged by the seasons around it, be it harsh winter or gentle spring.

Mor grabbed Selene’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “You know I have always thought you were splendid, my dear Selene. I have truly missed you.”

Frosty blue eyes gleamed with secrets and mischief as they gazed into Mor’s. Selene gave the hand lacing through Mor’s a squeeze, and Mor couldn’t help but marvel at how soft, how warm, Selene’s touch was, despite the coldness of the Winter Court all around them.

“Is that so?” Selene’s smile was as soft as fresh snow and as wicked as an icicle. “I would think that gazing upon those good-looking Illyrians every and all day wouldn’t give you much time to miss little old me.”

“Good-looking they may be,” Mor paused. Her teasing smile became softer as she spoke once more. “I will always miss being with my friend.”

Selene’s own smile fell as she raised an eyebrow. The mischief still held on her face, but there was something else mixed in that caused Mor’s heart to leap. “Friend, huh?”

Deep-brown eyes locked with blue ones. Mor felt the tension in the room snap tight. She felt as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs. There was a pull in her stomach, her heart started to race as her lips parted slightly.

The look in Selene’s eyes, the way her hand stayed tightly in Mor’s, the soft smile pulling on her lips, it undid Mor in the most beautiful way but terrified her all the same.

“Would you like to open your Yulemas present?” Mor asked, for a lack of nothing else to say. Her voice was low, raspy as she drew in a shallow breath.

Selene blinked, the spell around the room slipping away as she took the smallest step back. Her smile shifted from soft, cherished, to vast and bright once again.

“Are we not supposed to open them at the Banquet?” Selene fell back onto the couch set up in front of the fireplace, crossing her legs at the knees.

Mor rolled her eyes, her own smile holding a teasing tone to it. Though the aftershock of the tensions a for moments ago still lingered. “And since when have you been one to follow the rules?”

“Point taken.”

A breathless laugh flew past Mors lips. She turned her back on Selene, walking over to the tree to pick up a box wrapped in the most beautiful shades of blue, a bow sitting in the middle.

Blonde hair flew over her shoulder as she spun around, making her way towards the couch and sitting down next to Selene. Mor handed over the present, and she couldn’t help but jump the slightest bit as Selene took the gift in her own hands, their fingers brushing.

Selene held her gaze for a moment longer before turning to the present on her lap. And Mor couldn’t tear away her gaze as she watched Selene’s nimble fingers get to work on the ribbons wrapped tightly around the box. The only sound around them was that of the crackling fire.

It didn’t take Selene long to disregard the paper and open the box.

“Cauldron,” she breathed, lips parted slightly as she pulled the fabric out of the box. Its light blue skirts - so blue it almost looked white - moved like water across her lap. The bodice sparkled in the light of the fireplace.

Mor really needed to bug Rhys more for information on his personal tailor.

“Do you like it?”

Selene’s wide eyes moved from the dress to Mor. They appeared to glow in the dimness of the room, clouded with oh so much emotion.

“It’s exquisite,” Selene folded the dress back in the box, placing it on the floor by her feet before gripping Mor’s hands in her own. “Truly, thank you.”

Mor’s chest felt tight, she couldn’t look away from Selene’s gaze. “No need for thank yous.”

Selene’s grip on Mor’s hands tightened just the slightest bit as she leaned forward. There was so much emotion in her eyes, on her face, that it almost blinded Mor. Yet, she couldn’t look away, couldn’t so much as breath as Selene stopped just a few inches from her.

“Would you like your present in return?” Selene whispered, her breath brushing Mor’s cheeks.

“Of course.” Mor’s voice was equally as soft.

Selene’s smile was the most alluring thing Mor had ever seen, her eyes wrinkling slightly in the corners because of it.

There was a moment, just a beat, where Selene simply continued to gaze upon Mor, the thumb brushing lightly against the back of her hand. Then she started to close to gap between them. And Mor found herself leaning forward to meet her halfway. She could hear dainty bells ringing above her, but didn’t pay much attention to them as her lips lightly brushed Selene’s-

“Mor!”

The doors to the room flew open as Mor and Selene jumped back.

Flushed, Mor looked past Selene to see the High Lady of Winter walk in. Her pale pink lips were pulled back into a smile. Her hair, hair as white as snow, was braided down her back. Icy blue eyes - Selene’s eyes - flicked between Mor and Selene, question and laughter gleaming within them.

“Viv,” Mor stood up from the couch, trying to calm her racing heart as she did so. She didn’t cast one glance at Selene as she walked towards Viviane, a smile that was only slightly strained on her lips. “It’s so good too see you again.”

“Likewise, as always,” Viviane’s smile was so like her sisters, just with less mischief and slightly softer. Stepping forward, Viviane pulled Mor into a hug. “Even if it has only been a few months.”

“A few months too long, if you ask me.” Mor returned the embrace for a moment longer before pulling back.

“Let us sit and chat.” Viviane gestured for Mor to returned to the couch as she herself sat in one of the lone chairs. There was a knowing look in her eyes as her smile turned just the slightest bit smug. “I see you’ve had the pleasure of catching up with Selene already.”

Her years of training to mask her true features was the only thing that stopped the blush from raising on Mor’s cheeks. She took her seat on the couch, finally glancing at Selene, whose brows were pinched, her eyes hard as she stared down her sister. It was a look that could only be read as pure sisterly annoyance. But The High Lady didn’t so much as flinch.

“How about some hot cocoa?” Viviane rang for a servant, that smug smile every present on her face.

Mor smiled and nodded.

It didn’t take long for a servant to appear with some hot cocoa and a tray of sugar cookies. And as the three ladies ate and drank, the conversation carried on. The tension around them seemed to relax bit by bit with every passing moment. Though even as she laughed and smiled at Viviane’s stories about her wholesome newborn, she could still feel Selene’s gaze upon her. She could still feel the brush of Selene’s arm against hers every once in a while. And every time, her heart would leap in her chest.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the sun was starting to set over the snow-covered fields, that Mor decided it was time for her to head back home. And it wasn’t until she bid goodbye to Viviane, engulfing the High Lady in one more hug, that she was left alone with Selene once more.

“I’ll be seeing you at the banquet, I take it?” Mor smiled towards Selene from where she stood next to the doorway.

With a nod for her head, Selene returned the smile, taking slow, calculated steps towards Mor. “Of course.”

“Wonderful,” Mor held her ground, her smile never fading even as she felt a pull in her lower stomach. “I look forward to seeing you again, Selene.”

With no more reason to stay, Mor should have gave Selene one final goodbye before walking out the door. But she didn’t. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground as Selene stopped before her, just inches away. Her smile was wicked, eyes challenging as she looked at Mor through her eyelashes. Mor could feel her own smile pulling on her lips, her fingers itching to grab Selene up her collar and pull her closer.

“Are you really-” Selene’s voice was low, sensual as she took the smallest step towards Mor. So close now Mor could feel her breath on her cheeks - “leaving without your gift, Morrigan?”

“Depends on what exactly said gift is.” Mor breathed.

Selene’s smile grew and the sound of dainty bells could be heard once again. Mor followed Selene’s gaze upwards, only to find a growing green fern with white berries, directly above their heads.

“I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Mor turned her gaze back to Selene just moments before the last few inches between them disappeared, their lips meeting.

It was soft, sweet, warm as Selene’s lips pressed against Mor’s. And Mor felt like all her senses suddenly got dialed up to ten. Her blood ran cold before her whole body felt as if it was about to ignite. She hadn’t felt like this in years. And as she swept her tongue along Selene’s bottom lip, as Selene opened her mouth with a moan, she felt a jolt through her body. Mother, she could listen to that sound all day and never once get tired of it.

Mor found her hands gripping Selene’s shirt, pulling her closer. But it still wasn’t close enough. She wanted more, needed more. And by the way Selene’s fingers wrapped in Mor’s hair, she felt the same. Just not here, not now.

After some time, Mor pulled back slightly. She rested her forehead against Selene’s as they both tried to calm their breathing. It was only after a few moments passed by that Selene stood up straighter, but didn’t back away.

“I look forward to seeing you at the banquet, all-powerful Morrigan.” Selene breathed, her swollen lips pulled back into a teasing smile. A smile that Mor couldn’t help but return.

“Likewise, Selene.”

With one last knowing glance between the two, Mor turned and walked out the door. She could feel Selene’s gaze on her as she went, hips swaying, heels clicking on the marble floor and a smile on her lips.

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aludrakijurorin · 6 years

Photo

I am starting a new project I hope everyone loves, cause I certainly do. Furmaids =D I know furry mermaids are already a thing, but I wanted to let my creative freedom flow and draw something that wasn't mine or other peoples' characters. This project is going to include my love for all aquatic things, mixed with my love of drawing and designing anthros. I absolutely adore mermaids, dolphins, fish, water pokemon, all to the point of not even realizing how much I've surrounded myself with aquatic knick knacks. I want this to be a learning project for me. One where I step out of my comfort zone and improve my art in an achievable way. With each piece I will try something new, or work on one of my weak points that I have pointed out to myself, and that friends have helped point out for me. Each piece will have a generic land animal, and a generic sea animal, but I plan to add more flair in the future while still keeping each animal recognizable. This time, I drew a panda mixed with an orca =D Their markings match up perfectly, yet both are easily recognizable. I worked on three weak points in this piece: perspective, shading, and backgrounds. When I usually draw arms, there's typically no perspective. This time I tried to let them flow freely from the body, stretched out on each side. While it's not perfect, it's something I need to practice on, and I'll only get better with practice. Shading has a different effect underwater than it does on the surface. It's much softer, and with a bright floor (or pool walls), light easily bounces off these surfaces and illuminates everything with a softness. It's really beautiful to me, so I tried to capture that with a more soft shading style instead of having stark lines. Backgrounds will always be a flaw of mine, but I have grown from having transparent backgrounds, to some colors with texture, to finally dabbling with actual settings. While this setting is an empty open ocean, it also compliments the character well without clutter. Overall, I am super duper happy to be working on aquatic creatures, and I really hope I can push myself to make more of these. I already have a folder saved with tons of ideas, and am open to suggestions, whether it be a land animal you'd like to see, sea animal, or both! My next project should be a fox mixed with a koi fish. If you want to see more, please let me know! I love getting comments, favorites, compliments, praise, it's what keeps me motivated and wanting to draw more. I want to note that I MIGHT be selling prints of these furmaids in the future at conventions. With the help of Kravlin I may be able to display or sell prints at the furry conventions he regularly attends, which would be an absolute honor. I really just want to display my art and gain more publicity more than anything.

#furry #anthro #Furry Art #panda #pandas #orca #killer whale #killer #whale #underwater #digital art #digital #art #aludra #aludra art #aludrakijurorin #furmaid #mermaid

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entertainmentculture · 7 years

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Dunkirk

Christopher Nolan is known for his phenomenal cinematic creations. The worldwide success of the Dark Night trilogy Nolan directed drew in a younger audience to his films. Since then, he has created various other films; such as Interstellar. Taking a turn away from the fantasy styled genre, Nolan directed Dunkirk. This film is indeed a change from his more commonly known works, as rather than relying on imagination and creativity; Nolan took on the challenge of filming a historical, action film. In the beginning of the film, cut scenes are shown between the setting and a brief description of the history of Dunkirk. In other reviews, I have seen people criticise the lack of context that Nolan gives the audience. However, I personally didn’t have an issue with this as on top of being a creative industries nerd, I am a history nerd as well. (I know. I’m a real catch, huh?). However; I believe Nolan did it that way on purpose. Those who didn’t know the story were able to learn more from the film, this also could be a technique to instil curiosity in the audience; making them go and research the history of Dunkirk on their own. Throughout the film, there are various references that call the audience back to reality. The mentions of Prime Minister Churchill being one of the major ones; given that everyone has heard of him. It’s a reminder that this is not merely a film, but a historical retelling of a major World War II battle. Moving on from this, we enter the streets of Dunkirk, where the audience follows a group of soldiers looking for water. Gunshots ring out and they flee, the soldiers are unable to see the shooters and are left to make a run for their lives. The sole survivor becomes one of our central characters; Tommy. The immense isolation is shown through the characters and their empty surroundings. The continuous use of extreme long shots further implements the isolation of the soldiers. Using aviation to create these shots of the expansive beach draws attention to the destruction that has occurred, to force the soldiers down onto the beach. Adding onto this is the shots of the expansive ocean before them. The phrase ‘You can almost see it’ is used repeatedly to establish the ‘so close but so far away’ notion. Close to home, but far from getting there. Nolan also employs underwater sequences to showcase the struggle faced by the soldiers that are trying to leave. Torpedos fill the sea, making escape seemingly impossible. Another way Nolan creates and incredible sense of environment is through the aviation sequences. Within the aviation sequences, Nolan gives multiple perspectives on the aircraft. Those being: a gun barrel view, third person view, first person view and various accounts of tracking shots. The sky, along with the ocean, is a vast space that leaves people feeling the isolation the pilot and soldiers experiencing it feel. Directly juxtaposing this is Nolan’s use of close up shots. These are used in the most intense times to highlight the struggles of the characters and involve the audience into feeling their emotions. The cut scenes are effectively implemented to portray the different struggles of the different characters. From soldiers to the pilots to the civilians like Mr Dawson that are en-route to help them. The sounds quality has to work hand in hand with these cuts and create a seamless piece. This is achieved in an exceptional way. Between the loudness of gunfire, explosions and the whirring of plane engines; the environment is maintained throughout. We are also given much softer sounds, showing the attention to detail. The films conclusion begins with the soft ticking sounds that runs across the final moments, the concluding sound is the crinkle of a newspaper being folded. The ticking effectively builds suspense whilst the newspaper animates the feeling of a round about conclusion. The actors portray the soldier basis excellently. They appear clothed in their uniforms, but dirty. The expressions worn represent their withdrawn, sullen attitude towards their current place in the war. A major factor to note in the cast is Harry Styles role. There was a lot of hype and uncertainty created around him and his position on a film after being a boyband member. However, those who doubted him should will eat their words as they watch him dominate the big screen with finesse. The dialogue maintains itself minimal rate, this when it is used it comes across far more effectively than it would if there was a non-stop string of words. The language used showcases the feelings of anger and depression. The aviation pilot picked up by Mr Dawson at sea symbolises the ugly side of war. Mr Dawson explains to George and his son that he is suffering from ‘Shell Shock Syndrome’, or, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Honing onto the real life issues that come about with war and its causes and effects. In conclusion, Nolan’s Dunkirk is a film that captures the essence of what the battle was. The film is easily one of the best to hit cinemas this year. With Nolan as a director, the production was surrounded by high excitement, given his reputation as a filmmaker. I was blown away by the film. My eyes never left the screen and there was nothing that could have distracted be from the incredible piece before me. Rate: ★★★★★

#dunkirk #dunkirk review #film #film review #movie #movie review #entertainmentculture #Entertainment Culture #Entertainment #Harry Styles #Christopher Nolan

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stormpainter · 7 years

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wickedPainter: Wicked was standing in the mess tent, hair wild and untaimed, stained with purple blood, helping the clowns with these big chunks of meat he'd brought for the brothers and sisters.

carnivalsOrphans: Ringleader walks in, sees Wicked and immediately starts smiling. Even despite all of the embarrassment of the chat room, he is still so excited to be able to spend time with his moirail. He comes over, envelops the filthy troll in a hug as soon as he's not actively holding meat, and tries to pretend he doesn't see all the knowing looks from the clowns in the tent.

wickedPainter: He knew he was there, of course he knew, he was right where he was supposed to be, and he leaned back into the embrace, a purr rattling up shamelessly in front of all of these witnesses. "Shows over?"

carnivalsOrphans: Any attempt at not blushing is ultimately futile, and he leans down to give the tip of a horn a small smooch. "Yep. Sure is." And then, softer. "You're a damn mess." It's an attempt at being private, but it's really not hard to guess the gist of what he said, considering the purple that spreads down his neck and over the visible part of his earfins.

wickedPainter: The clown smiled a mischevious smile up at his moirail. "Someone probably better ought to clean me up then." He told him.

wickedPainter: "Is't workin?" He asked innocently.

carnivalsOrphans: He gives his moirail a squish, huffs at him. "You know damn well it is."

wickedPainter: "Good" Somehow he managed to make purring sound smug

carnivalsOrphans: He is officially done. Time to lean down and just pick Wicked up, bridal style. "You little brat."

wickedPainter: Arms went around the enormous troll's neck and the completely filthy one snuggled into his arms. "Pretty sure you enjoy it"

carnivalsOrphans: Nothing to do here, time to head out. And it has nothing at all to do with all the people softly cracking up from him being ridiculous. Of course. "I'll enjoy it more once I got you to myself."

wickedPainter: "I'm gettin you all dirty" He noted.

carnivalsOrphans: "Guess we're just gonna have ta shower together, ain't we?" Very flustered clown trying to seem as cool as possible.

wickedPainter: "Guess we gotta, its the only way." he kissed up under the other clowns chin. "do each others hair too."

carnivalsOrphans: He just... Eyes Wicked's fucked up hair for a moment, fuck. How is he supposed to hide his face in that? "You gonna make me walk all the way back to my tent with palebait in my arms, or you gonna just take us to your hive the quick way?"

wickedPainter: "I feel like bein an exibitionist." he smiled with half lidded eyes.

carnivalsOrphans: "You're lucky I love you too much ta drop you," he says with a play growl that doesn't even remotely sound scary.

wickedPainter: "I know I'm lucky. Luckiest damned motherfucker, dont deserve you." he nuzzled up at his jaw.

carnivalsOrphans: He can't help how he purrs. "You're the one who's been takin care of my ass for the past while in there. Don't know how I got so lucky, ta find you."

wickedPainter: "Who the shit knew I'd find someone who needs me?" he leaned his head into him.

carnivalsOrphans: He pretends he doesn't see all the people casting knowing looks at him as he goes through the field of tents. "You wouldn't think I'd be so damn needy, considerin how long I've gone without."

wickedPainter: "Why would you wanna do without when you dont gotta?" He told him, he was smiling his little smile, pleased with all the looks.

carnivalsOrphans: God damned exhibitionist. "You're a goddamn blessing, Miramini, I am glad I got you around ta keep my head on straight."

wickedPainter: "..I like yo' pet name for me." he nuzzle his cheek into him. "..I tolt you I love you?"

carnivalsOrphans: His purr goes from soft to loud at the words. "You mentioned it a few times, yeah." Everything is nice right now, and it's hard to give as many fucks about everyone watching when he's so happy to have Wicked with him.

wickedPainter: "Good cause my memory aint great and you need to know." That purr was so nice, he pressed his ear against RL's chest and let it vibrate through him.

carnivalsOrphans: "I love you so much, brother, don't think I've loved someone so much in a long fuckin time." He wants to pet his moirail, but his hair is crunchy and dirty with blood and salt, and he doesn't want to hurt him. .... Scritch softly at a horn bed.

wickedPainter: He leaned into the touch of fingers on his scalp purr going strong. "How'd I get to be the lucky one?"

carnivalsOrphans: "Dunno. Probably cuz you're my miracle." Finally to his own damn tent, he ducks inside and just flops down for a moment to snuggle and kiss at Wicked's face.

wickedPainter: Wicked cuddled into him, he was perfectly content to be held. "think the gods gave us to each other if thats a thing."

carnivalsOrphans: "Serendipity." Purrrrrrr. He'll head to Wicked's place soon, for the sake of a nice shower that will fit them both and a bit more space to lounge, but he just wants to be alone with him for a few minutes.

wickedPainter: The smaller clown returned all the kisses on his face and pet a hand into RL's hair, leaning his head onto his shoulder. "Might well be. my other two are."

carnivalsOrphans: He tries not to make a face at the thought of him being in the same category as Tarrat, and mostly succeeds. "Yeah."

carnivalsOrphans: The word is curt and a bit clipped but he tries to cover it by kissing at Wicked's jaw more. "Love you brother."

wickedPainter: He frown pulling gently away from the kisses, although he stroked his hair."whats wrong?"

carnivalsOrphans: "Why would anythin be wrong, brother?" He nuzzles in close, purring at his rail softly.

wickedPainter: He scratched his fingers behind an ear and played gently with tiny fins "cause you dont seem to like bein compared to my other quads"

carnivalsOrphans: ... That feels too nice to be entirely fair, and he leans into the touch. "... I like em fine. For the most part."

wickedPainter: "Mm- for the most part?" He tried to coax him.

carnivalsOrphans: "You ain't gonna like this answer," he warns, leaning into the attention while he's still getting it.

wickedPainter: "probably means I oughta hear it."Look at those cute little ear fins, he needs to give these more attention than he has.

carnivalsOrphans: He huffs, turns his head slightly to kiss Wicked's wrist. Trying not to dislodge scritchies.

carnivalsOrphans: "... tarrat pisses me the fuck off."

wickedPainter: Mmmm. He hummed and brushed RL's hair away from his ear. "What'd he do thats so bad?"

carnivalsOrphans: He's just going to pretend he doesn't know tarrats probably watching. "Called Vel a psychopath and referrin ta him as that thing ya brought hive. Can't remember exact words, but I remember the gist."

wickedPainter: "That all?" He tilted his head.

carnivalsOrphans: "And talk about Vels triggers like its just him bein insane. And seemin none too fond of me."

carnivalsOrphans: "... get protective over my little brothers and sisters, and I'm real fond of Vel, mad scientist he is."

wickedPainter: The clown in his arms found one of Ring's hands and brought it to his mouth to kiss it, and spend a moment organizing his thoughts while he nuzzled at fingers.

"Tar loves me. A ridiculous motherfuckin amount. I think some of its cause I'm the only one he has left, but even before that he was my best friend, and more loyal than anyone I've ever seen in my life, short as it may be. He would do anything for me, even if he don't like it too much- cause he wants me to be happy. Like switchin quadrants to flush."

He drew a breath in and let it out slowly. "Vel ain't good for me. Hes a target I brought hive cause he managed to fuck me up, and got fixated on. Hes also screwier than a fuzzy dildo, and its hard to predict when hes going to randomly decide he wants to see what colour your insides are an how they're put together personally. Now I aint.. sane either. Auditory an visual hallucinations, delusions, irrational rage. Donno how much of it is just me and whats because my head was fucked by a terror. .. Donno how much of Vels crazy was what I did to him, an how much is natural for him, either. Tar just wants to protect me, though. Hes seen him try to kill me, an hurt me, an tear me the fuck up so many damned times. We're..workin on it, me and Vel."

carnivalsOrphans: The enormous clown considers his moirail's words, for a long moment. "... Can admire Tarrat, some, for his devotion. And can see where you're comin from, with Vel. .... But he told all that shit to a stranger. And not like a warnin, said it like it was just gossip. How long til he starts Gossipin bout all the shit you and I say? ... Don't it bother you, that he's so intent on draggin Vel? Even if Vel's got a goddamn truck full of issues, don't it bother you that Tarrat's just airin it out goddamn everywhere?"

carnivalsOrphans: "That's what's really botherin me. Just.... Him fuckin not keepin secrets secret. And I know he. Lurks, sometimes." All the time. "Makes me damn uncomfortable."

wickedPainter: "He aint gonna gossip about us." He pressed his face into the hand he was nuzzling. "Hes frustrated with my choice not to keep myself safe, an his livin situation havin to share with Vel. ..an I do love Vel, don't mistake that, hes a tempest but one I wanna sail, whether its good for me or not." He was quiet a long moment. "..I can promise you he aint interested in us gettin intimate but. ..if you want I could turn the transmission feed off. I aint ever done it before, but I could." [:: | Edited :: ]

carnivalsOrphans: He runs his thumb along Wicked's cheekbone, leaning forward to kiss a horn tip softly. "Can.... Understand his frustration, I guess. .... But it still makes a motherfucker bristly." And then, after Wicked's suggestion, he looks over him. "... You know how I feel bout my secrets, brother. ... And bout bein seen as weak. And I love you, and i'll show you all of myself, so long as you're willin to see, but. Him. He... He don't... .... I didn't think i'd be sharin my time with you all the damn time, even if he ain't payin attention. I can't... Know that." He runs a hand over Wicked's crunchy hair. "If you feel alright turnin the feed off, it'd. Make me feel a lot better, bout a lot of things."

wickedPainter: He hesitated and quietly squeezed at RL's hand closing his eyes and opening them. "..do you know what its like to have grown up an always had someone in there, not just him, Them, too. I'm alone an its too damned quiet." He hesitated and decided not to say something else. His god tier would protect him if RL's impulse control broke. "..but I can, for you I will, for makin peace an settlin you, an keepin your secrets."

carnivalsOrphans: ".... Could." ... He clears his throat, softly Considers Things for a few moments. "If you don't wanna have things be quiet. I could..." He pulls from the depths of his sylladex a magic wand made of his own horn. ".... With this, I got voodoos. Could be with you."

wickedPainter: He blinked quietly at the wand and reached out hesitantly, almost touching it but not quite. "aint never shared like that with voodoo. Mines real strong but I aint good at like, subtle shit too much."

carnivalsOrphans: "I'm gonna have two," he pulls out the other, unfinished. "... Used ta be amazin at subtle shit, way back when. Vel said I could have one of the most powerful voodoo focuses in the multiverse. And this one," he hefts the first one slightly, "is for... delicacy. Sublety. ... and if ya get uncomfortable with sharin panspace with me, all ya gotta do is knock this fucker outta my hand. I want you feelin safe around me."

wickedPainter: He contemplated the wand thoughtfully. "if someone was tryin to get control of me or somethin, this'd be how they do it, gettin me to cut off my help, and let them into my head." He put voice to the paranoid narrative running through his thoughts. "A few perigees work, then you got yourself a laughsassin with some programmin he let himself get put there."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the back of RL's hand. "Don't wanna make it sound like I don't trust you, thats just the shit my pan is sayin'"

carnivalsOrphans: His expression breaks a moment, and the wand goes away. It.... Hurts, more than he thought it would, for Wicked to have those sorts of thoughts about him, but he can understand it entirely. And it's entirely true, if that's what he wanted, he could have it about that easily.

carnivalsOrphans: "... I love you. I want you ta feel safe around me. Safe as I can, at least. ... You ain't gotta do nothin you don't want to do."

wickedPainter: "Gon turn off the feed." He murmured. "..but I've had a lot of people dickin around in there, that I couldnt stop from doin that." He glanced up at him. "..guess its a lot like you not wantin me to take your rage to calm you maybe."

carnivalsOrphans: "... I'd feel all hollowed out, and weird. Don't like fuckers messin with my emotions when I can't control it." He kisses Wicked's forehead. "I don't wanna dick around in your pan. I like your pan how it is."

wickedPainter: "My pans a motherfuckin shit show, but I'm glad you like it."He let out a breath quietly. "..me gettin us some for sure privacy help shit with you feelin all upset bout my flushmate?"

carnivalsOrphans: "..." He could say yes, and it'd be over with, and Wicked'd indulge him, and it'd feel Better. ".... If ya just. ... I don't need it off every time I want us ta chill together. I just... ... When I'm panickin, or when I'm tellin you bout personal shit... ... And if you do that, I'll feel better. And I'll try ta make peace with him, cuz fuck knows he probably thinks i'm out ta get him or somethin." For no reason, of course. None At All.

wickedPainter: "its real sweet of you to compromise on that shit" he murmured.

carnivalsOrphans: "... I love you. There ain't a lot I wouldn't do for you."

wickedPainter: "it'd just be nice if some of my quads didn hate each other." he settled his head against his chest. "..me neither." "..things I wouldnt do is vanishinly small"

carnivalsOrphans: "... I like Vel. And I'm pretty sure he likes me. ... And I'll try ta like Tarrat, for you. Sure I can find somethin we get along on."

carnivalsOrphans: He pets Wicked softly, purring at him in some attempt at comforting.

wickedPainter: "He did sue the shit out of the people who had us arrested for you." he murmured.

carnivalsOrphans: "... Which was fuckin fantastic."

carnivalsOrphans: "Pretty sure that was for you, but."

carnivalsOrphans: Details, details.

wickedPainter: "He didn' have to include the carnival in it" He told him mildly.

wickedPainter: "I worry bout him but you dont wanna hear bout that"

carnivalsOrphans: "If it's important ta you, it's important ta me."

wickedPainter: He snorted softly, smiling.

carnivalsOrphans: Plus that puts them on more even terms, on knowing things about eachother.

carnivalsOrphans: He kisses a horntip. "What is it that's got ya worried, brother?"

wickedPainter: "..hes got spark somewhere in there, I've seen it, but ..caint tell if hes depressed or what. he just does what hes supposed to do. lets his sense of time take over, kinda sleep walkin through the motions a lot of the time."

wickedPainter: "..which granted I do some times but his is fuckin all the time"

carnivalsOrphans: "... Did tell him he needs ta get out more, the first time we talked. Make some damn friends, or somethin. ... Much as it's good he adores you so, it ain't really good ta be so fixated on the one person. ... Know some people find solice, in plannin everythin out. In havin everythin planned for em. ... Mayhaps you could just. Ask him ta include ya in some of his plannin? For just fuckin around or somethin. Even if he knows it's comin, takin him out or some damn thing might help him wanna do it more himself."

carnivalsOrphans: "... normally, i'd suggest a jolt of spontaneous, ta see what he does with it, but that don't really work with him i don't think."

wickedPainter: He looked thoughtful. "Could take him out more- we been out a couple of times foolin around on that earth vel likes. need to fuckin ..enter more variables."

carnivalsOrphans: "Yeah, he does have a fuckin spreadsheet or somethin. And hell, if he really likes doin those so much, addin more variables means more time spent doin that, right?" Shrug. "If it's what he enjoys."

carnivalsOrphans: ".... Just. Ask him what he wants to do more. He don't make decisions. Make him make em."

carnivalsOrphans: "... Dunno. That's my advice. He's sorta... Opposite me."

wickedPainter: He hummed softly and nodded against him then murmured. "..salts dyin an itchin like crazy."

carnivalsOrphans: .... Time to pick the boy up, all at once purring. "Jammin done, let's get ya clean. Ya damn exhibitionist."

wickedPainter: He leaned up and kissed him on the chin. "damned straight"

carnivalsOrphans: "Half tempted ta just sling ya over my damn shoulder next time, so we ain't lookin so pallid."

wickedPainter: "you don want people to know?" eyebrows

carnivalsOrphans: He bounces him in his arms. "I want everyone ta know. But I don't want people ta see."

carnivalsOrphans: Let's head over to Wicked's hive at last.

wickedPainter: Time to go and be ridiculous in a shower!

carnivalsOrphans: And then spend a while doing hair and paint and potentially claws and Ringleader softly contemplates letting Wicked polish what remains of his horns.

carnivalsOrphans: .. He decides against that, for now. He'll do that later, when him and Wicked have a full night together.

wickedPainter: ((cuties))

carnivalsOrphans: [[i know it's so gay]]

#paragraph RP #carnivalsorphans #valencedichotomy #mind control//#mental health//

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