#my skin colors are always too ashy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ask2pame · 1 month

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regarding your rant on frances design: TELL ME ABOUT IT. tbh i think all the designs peaked with beautiful world, and everything after that was just...discount budget versions of whoever theyre supposed to be. the beautiful world designs are GORGEOUS on their own, but compared to world stars? theres no contest. some designs i do like, like england looks nice, if not a little too polished, and portugal is really cute, but everyone else just got twinkified and butchered. and i love a twink! i do! but they look like they could be swapped out with my little pony designs and it wouldnt make a difference. france to me will always be a blonde with a ponytail, a little unkempt, with chest hair and stubble and flamboyantly manly with a touch of tragedy. thats france to me. not whatever waif they cooked up in the more recent series

// ok ok i can't tell if u mean like ''oOOOh tell me about it' as a phrase or u actually are inviting me to tell you about it but i'm going to take it as permission to ramble <3 but im putting it under the cut so i dont spam

okok so UR SO RIGHT i think the new designs are so OFF... like it kinda lost the plot. the characters are all weirdly polished?

ok im just gonna run down the characters i have a lot of thoughts about CUZ my god

ENGLAND!!! its gotta be beautiful world

cuz the early seasons england gets his crankiness on point but this design fits just how cranky and posh(?) he is, like he dresses like an old man and wears outdated 'punk' fashion, he drinks tea like an old lady.. it fits hes cute and expressive.

this england isLOSING hair where did his EYEBROWS GO!!!! thats HIS WHOLE FUCKING CHARACTER but also i really dislike the change from him going from a dirty blond to a bleach blond... doesnt work...

i want my man to look like he has a nicotine addiction, rugged and smug as shit. i think they leaned too hard on the 'tsundere' trope for him cuz hes not puffy cheeks with pouty lips hes an old man with a laundry list of war crimes

ROMANO

ok. this one is a little hard cuz romano is good in ever season but he has these little minor changes that drive me CRAZY but my favorite will always be the earlier seasons

this ver of romano was a NASTY bitch he just showed up to be an asshole and i love it so much , i love his hair being dark brown with brown eyes ok , at the minimum his design fit his voice...

for beautiful world i think hes cute but i really don't ? like his eyes being green? like i dont know it just never felt right to me:( i like him having brown eyes

and later his design leans into the prev but when u look at him u don't see that one guy who REALLY doesn't wanna be here hes . too soft?

and the newer romano does have the bad attitude but now he's suffering from the 'progressively becoming a ginger' syndrome that a lot of hws characters have now

RUSSIA

my pick for him is all over the place bc i think his new design is SO FUCKING CUTE like i wanna bite him and crocodile death roll him but i think he is SUFFERING from cuteness.... hes so . soft?

earlier seasons of russia showed up just to say some morbid shit and be brutal as fuck but he could also lean into being cute, thats his whole gimmick, cute but scary. his current design is cute with no threat.

i think beautiful world had that balance between cute and scary, he was cute and say mean shit like before and was ready to throw down any time america showed up, thats his whole deal. and you know at the bare minimum he's supposed to be fucking BIG and world stars makes him look like a fucking twink

SPAIN

beautiful world was WORKING to make spain look good, he was ugly . he was boring. and then he walked in with a new tan and a warm hair color and the cutest smile (tho its hard to find pics of spain in these seasons cuz hes younger in a lot of them) and then it's just

what the hell happened here. i feel like im going insane but did his skin tone get ashy? like it looks more grey. and i know saying spain is 'tan' is generous but what the fuck happened. why did all his colors dull, why is his hair so . boring. where did the body mass go, where did the attitude go... world stars spain is very 'head empty' and not in a good way ....

CHINA

one of the most overlooked characters but i love him

i think my favorite ver of him is still his original cuz i preferred him with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and he's side part... it was so cute... and they swapped it for a middle part .... </3

like he was so cute ;; plus i preferred him as this kinda irritable older know it all character, like he was groaning and huffing and did NOT want to be there. but then he kind of got? infantalized(?) i think they wanted him to be cute but idk if china is considered one of the ancient nations by its own rules, then can we tone down the :333 factor on him a bit

like just comparing but this might be me raise hands at hima for this characterization. what did you do to my boy

like do u see it. am i crazy

these bitches

these 4 just suffer from success in their OG and the beautiful world just made them way better (except i miss italy's darker hair </3) and then they just got handed bad animation in world stars

ok thats all i have time for rn BUT YEAH

#THANK YOU FOR TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT #I LOVE WHEN I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT THEM CUZ I HAVE LIKE 2 HETALIA FRIENDS THAT I CAN TALK TO.... </3 #mun talks #ohh tumblr fucked up my formatting ....L

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oekaki-chan · 1 year

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hey c! any tips for choosing skin colors? i always seem to make it either too saturated or unsaturated and idk why my colors always seem a bit odd to look at :") also, how do u pick skin colors and make them have a different hue like green/orange/blue without making it look weird? there are times though where i get lucky with the skin color picking but that's bcs im just randomly scrolling the hues and color wheel and pray that it looks good lol

There are many skin tone variations out there, the one with olive tone, pink tone, reddish tone, the one with warm undertone, cool undertone, etc, so I can't say that there really is any right or wrong tone for skin color, just make sure to avoid this area when coloring alive human skin because it'll make the skin look ashy (unless you're drawing dead people or vampires)

I tend to pick color for skin tone around the red-orange ranges, but the easiest way to pick a skin tone is to pick from a photo with good color saturation like one of these, you can search "humanae" on google (it's a photography project where an artist attempted to collect many pictures of people and their skin colors) and it'll show you TONS of skin color variations you can choose from.

As for making the skin tone a different hue, the easiest way to achieve that is by using blending modes 😂

I hope this helps, and I'm sorry if you intended to ask this privately 😭 It's a good question and I think other people might want to see it too!

#ask #tutorial

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sinnerlillith · 2 years

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Eddie x black reader head cannons

because theres not enough blk reader hcs out there. lmk which one is your favorite and add your own in the comments <3

I feel like Eddie is a major fidgeter, so he’d (very respectfully) ask you to fidget with one of your braids locs, twists, ect. It just calms him down so well and he would never grab one without your permission. He then just makes a habit of twirling your hair around his ringed fingers.

Loves the smell of your hair products. can never smell coconut or shea butter with out thinking of you and your hair.

Wants you to define his curls so they 'look like yours', but you try to tell him your curl patterns are very different. He just says “well… work with mine then, please? I wanna smell like you.”

Never ever fails to compliment you every time you change your hair styles

Picks your afro for you 🤧

Curiously asks why you have so much lotion/are always putting on lotion. He apparently doesn’t put on lotion often, (literally at all, like rarely ever puts that shit on) so when you tell him its so you’re not ashy, he looks incredibly confused. he’s all like “ashy? what does that even mean?” you just roll your eyes.

has an extra bonnet in his bedroom for when you stay the night (AHHH THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE 💖💘💕💞🖤💞💓 MAKES ME SWOON 🤧🤧🤧🤧)

Helps you gel down and part your plats that you cant reach

Will try to make his own plate at cook outs but gets teased about how he 'dont got enough on his plate' and gets told to “eat more food, boy, you too skinny.”

Is fascinated by how well you take care of your hair and your long hair care routine (because he don't take care of his hair for shit)

Wears your hair ties/scrunchies as a bracelet and sniffs them randomly because they smell like your hair

If you asked him to describe your skin color, he would say 'earth colored' (if you're dark skinned) or 'like brown sugar' (if you're light skinned) rather than just brown or something else boring

You introduced him to reggae music and he listens to the FUCK out of it when he's stoned and he thinks is such and experience. It just makes everything extra vibey to him

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 8 days

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I saw the Pole, I'm gonna ask this now .... more Retro handling people who trouble Vox. Maybe with a view on Vox's reactions to seeing Retro's murder on film at the end? He's always watching after all.

Rotting for Old Times Sake (gore warning)

“Depollute me, pretty baby,” I said softly, thinking of Vox. Usually I was so caught up in the act of slicing people open I could hardly focus on anything but the feeling of adrenaline in my veins. But now? Oh now… I was lovesick.

“Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream.”

The clouds of smoke surrounding me were a testament to such a fact. They poured out of me, each more colorful and vibrant than the last, each more destructive. Pinks and purples and reds. Pretty, really. There was nothing cuter than something that looked so wonderful and could kill you in an instant.

“Oh, dilute me, gentle angel…”

The people I’d gathered were rotting at a rapid pace. Some body’s were more damaged than others, some were fresh. I’d gathered them all, no matter how decayed and decrepit, here today for a cleansing. Time to watch them rot, for old times sake.

“Water down what I called being grateful.”

I smiled as I watched the skin peel and fall off the corpses, some of them boiling and blistering, others blue and cracked. I thought of Vox, how I’d seen him electrocute someone the other day. I was sitting in his office, watching through the camera, and I knew he didn’t know that I knew that he’d killed one of his assistants. I remembered the way he held the corpse in his hands, how he tossed it aside without a care. A warm fuzzy feeling spread in my chest and I couldn’t help but feel elated. God, how I wished he’d kill for me.

“Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me..”

And the taste of smoke on his lips, fuck that was beautiful. Not Val’s smoke, not toxic fumes, but his own. He rarely smoked, as far as I could tell, he only did it when he was in a good mood, feeling worked up. I could imagine him like that, now. How he may act.

“Not to take me home.”

I thought of him, that warm feeling in me only growing as I moved around. I had to spread the toxins in the air effectively, so I’d been doing a small sort of dance. I was absolutely entranced by the mere thought of Vox doing anything like this, for me or otherwise. I couldn’t wait to return home to him tonight.

“It was simple, it was sweetness…”

Being with him was always such pure bliss. The crunch of what used to be bones now reduced to nothing under my shoe was nothing in comparison to the soft hum of his TV head. The silence that filled the space I was in (save for my singing) was so boring in comparison to the wonderful static and white noise that accompanied Vox wherever he went.

“It was good to know.”

I left the alleyway, now full of nothing but lingering toxins in the air and an ashy sort of dust and dirt on the floor. I hummed and did a little twirl, happy as ever as I made my way to the grocery store. I still had to pick up the ingredients for dinner tonight. I was going to be making his favorite, and I couldn’t wait to see his reaction. My heart beat faster in anticipation at the thought.

***

Vox sat in his office, his heart fluttering as he watched it all go down. He hummed and sung along softly to your little song, he knew it well. He admired the clouds and puffs of poison and toxins you emitted, how deadly it was. So unassuming and pretty at first glance, but it was that very same innocuous appearance that made it so dangerous. The smoke reminded him of you- just how similair you were to it was amazing. Beautiful and sweet but ruthless. He’d watched you hold a man’s heart in your hand as you tore it out of his ribcage, once, and the only thing he felt was pure unadulterated love and joy.

Now, he felt a certain familiar heat rise to his face and- god, he was overheating already! He loved your singing with all his heart, and he didn’t get to hear it often- you were far too shy about it and never really sung around the house. Hearing you sing at all was a blessing, but while you were killing? For him, no less!

It was everything he could ever hope for, everything he could ever dream of. How utterly devoted you were, it was enchanting. He adored these acts of service, he loved watching every moment. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his afterlife with you.

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #thanks anon!

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reverse1999fics · 4 months

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Please allow me to rant for a moment.

I was doom scrolling on tiktok, as you do, earlier today and came across a video comparing Genshin Impact characters to characters in Reverse: 1999, specifically on POC/representative characters. I enjoy both games but do prefer R1999 when it comes to that specific category of representation.

Anyways, I decided to look at the comments and saw this persons comment

Before I say anything else, please don't go and bother this person for their comment if you find it. Their comment just sort of irritated me and I want to talk about it.

This is the tan skin tone they are referring too

These are the characters they're talking about

These are the darkest characters as of current in Reverse 1999. Do they look tan to you? Sure, Centurion is lighter, but she is not tan.

And let it be known, tan does not mean white, I'm sure there are plenty of different ethnicities that aren't white but have tan skin, or one could be mixed; that doesn't take away who you are either.

And Genshin, while yes having a bad representation of POC, does still have black characters. The most notable being Xinyan.

She is a bit lighter, and ashy even, but she is still some of the best representation in Genshin that we have. Not to throw out the other POC in Genshin such as Kaeya, Candace, Cyno and more to come I'm sure.

And, might I remind you that representation is not all about the color of their skin. Yes, it is important to show people of all colors, but not every culture that isn't represented is shown. Many characters in R1999 speak their own language aside from english, even with the english voice pack.

Queer/trans and disabled people also fit in the category of representation.

Hoyoverse, the company that makes Genshin, has a history of making canonically queer characters even if it gets them in trouble. And in Genshin there are a lot of queer coded characters such as Alheithem and Kaveh, Yae Miko and Ei, and many more.

When it comes to Reverse: 1999, they are extremely good in this area. Not only do they have canonically queer characters, they have canonically trans characters too (such as The Fool, who in Nonbinary/agender).

And, they have characters from all around the world, different countries. And yes some characters have harmful stereotypes in their designs, I won't deny.

And, if you want to be technical, Nick, Apple, Door, and even Pickles may be counted as representation too.

Reverse: 1999 is better when it comes to showing representation in all ways possible (again, even though it can be hurtful). And while Genshin does have representation, it's not always that good.

Anyways, I just wanted to talk about it. It was on my mind all day haha. Sorry for my yapping, I'll get to work on more fics soon :))

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #genshin impact #genshin #personal rant #poc representation #queer representation #please correct me if i'm wrong #i myself and white so i probably got something wrong haha

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ilaria-jinx · 6 months

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Have started listening to Redacted. Yes, I’m outing myself in this way. Because listen, LISTEN, I need to post my thoughts on how the Elementals look, and you all can suffer with me.

Damien, as a fire elemental : Skin always running too hot, literal furnace in bed. When he gets really angry the tips of his fingers start smoking (they used to spit sparks, but he managed to tamp it down to avoid scaring people). Eyes are the blue of superheated flame, hair is usually a dark brown but turns coppery when he’s using magic. Very tan, even in the middle of winter, just because of how much heat he’s exposed to.

Lasko: Flighty, lanky, somehow looks like a gust of wind could knock him over while also looking like the eye of the storm. Eyes are also blue, but stormy blue. When he does magic, they go slate-colored. Wispy hair- wispy everything, actually. If you look at him too closely it’s like the edges of him are blurring, and they’re almost see-through. Like the outline of his body wants to become a part of the gale.

Huxley: Solid, strong, tree-trunk limbs. Could pick you up and simply never put you down - like he‘s been carrying a sack of rocks over his shoulder his whole life. Maybe he has. His feet and hands are permanently stained green-brown from his magic, from walking around barefoot all the time. Callouses the size of Toph Beifong’s, though he never got the hang of seismic sense. Has never been good at the other elements, but the first time he bridges with Damien he finally understands something and he can do magic with lava now. Ends of his hair are ashy colored, and he always looks a bit like he’s got dust in his hair.

#redacted headcanons #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted damien

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katnissmellarkkk · 5 months

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Collection of introductions of the love interest in a YA series. You can always tell based on how they’re introduced what kind of love interest they’re meant to be.

[ katniss/peeta - hunger games ]

“Peeta Mellark.”

Peeta Mellark!

Oh, no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark.

No, the odds are not in my favor today.

I watch him as he makes his way toward the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I’ve seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily onto the stage and takes his place.

[…]

Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will…

[ bella/edward - twilight ]

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today — he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

[ harry/ginny - harry potter ]

“You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?”

“Who?”

“Harry Potter!”

Harry heard the little girl’s voice. “Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please. . . .”

“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo.”

[ hermione/ron - harry potter ]

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

“Er — all right.”

[…]

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard — I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

[…]

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.

[ tris/four - divergent ]

I have to stand on solid ground again. I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grab the first one I can reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and I would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me.

“He” is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color.

[ percy/annabeth - percy jackson ]

“Annabeth?” Mr. Brunner called to the blonde girl.

She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. “This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don’t you go check on Percy’s bunk? We’ll be putting him in cabin eleven for now.”

Annabeth said, “Sure, Chiron.”

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of centimeters taller and a whole lot more athletic-looking. With her deep tan skin and her curly blonde hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling grey, like storm clouds; pretty but intimidating too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

She glanced at the Minotaur horn in my hand, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a Minotaur! or Wow, you’re so awesome! or something like that.

Instead she said, “You drool when you sleep.”

[ thomas/teresa - the maze runner ]

But he had caught a glimpse of her before being blocked off. She was thin, but not too small. Maybe five and a half feet tall, from what he could tell. She looked like she could be fifteen or sixteen years old, and her hair was tar black. But the thing that had really stood out to him was her skin: pale, white as pearls.

[…]

He approached Newt and Alby, who both knelt beside the girl. Thomas, not wanting to meet their stares, concentrated on the girl; despite her paleness, she was really pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful. Silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs. It made him sick to think that way about a dead girl, but he couldn’t look away. Won’t be that way for long, he thought with a queasy twist in his stomach. She’ll start rotting soon. He was surprised at having such a morbid thought.

“You know this girl, shank?” Alby asked, sounding ticked off.

Thomas was shocked by the question. “Know her? Of course I don’t know her. I don’t know anyone. Except for you guys.”

“That’s not …,” Alby began, then stopped with a frustrated sigh. “I meant does she look familiar at all? Any kind of feelin’ you’ve seen her before?”

“No. Nothing.” Thomas shifted, looked down at his feet, then back at the girl.

[…]

Thomas’s mind was spinning. He was sure he’d never seen her before—but then the slightest hint of doubt crept into his mind. “I swear she doesn’t look familiar at all,” he said anyway. He’d had enough accusations.

[ clary/jace - the mortal instruments ]

It was Alec who spoke first. “What’s this?” he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there.

“It’s a girl,” Jace said, recovering his composure. “Surely you’ve seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one.” He took a step closer to Clary, squinting as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “A mundie girl,” he said, half to himself. “And she can see us.” “

“Of course I can see you,” Clary said. “I’m not blind, you know.”

“Oh, but you are,” said Jace, bending to pick up his knife. “You just don’t know it.” He straightened up. “You’d better get out of here, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clary said. “If I do, you’ll kill him.” She pointed at the boy with the blue hair.

“That’s true,” admitted Jace, twirling the knife between his fingers. “What do you care if I kill him or not?”

“Be-because—,” Clary spluttered. “You can’t just go around killing people.”

“You’re right,” said Jace. “You can’t go around killing people.” He pointed at the boy with blue hair, whose eyes were slitted. Clary wondered if he’d fainted. “That’s not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it’s a monster.”

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jimmy-johns-was-taken · 1 year

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Eyeless Jack Headcanons

EJ has always been one of my favorite pastas, so he’s getting his own post first

Currently working on others :)

T.W.: Cannibalism, organs, Jack can’t fucking see, creepypasta

This big guy stands at like 6’6

Broad shoulders too, all muscle

Talon like claws for his hands, which look an inky black in comparison to his ASHY skin

Man needs some lotion fr

Jack can’t see, but he can?

Like he can’t make out colors and small details, but he has a general idea of bigger objects, such as tress

I think before his whole story, Jack was color blind and really struggled with those color coded diagrams for anatomy

“Jack, can you tell me what the red labeled part is?” “…”

He also has some 6th sense bullshit going on. Maybe it’s how his other senses are heightened, but even tho he can’t see lots of stuff, he still knows

Anyways

Him and Toby are pretty cool

Toby needs medical attention all the time, so Jack helps him out

Jack’s lowkey cool with everyone, certain creeps get under his skin more than other tho

Jack just keeps to his own, only speaking when he’s spoken to

And that’s if anyone speaks to him

I feel like most creeps are really intimidated and/or heavily respect him, so most creeps just leave him be

Guy can’t fucking cook

Like I know the whole eating kidneys thing makes him not have to cook

But even before his story, he could barely make a glass of water

He’s got his own freezer for his organs

Speaking of, he doesn’t only eat kidneys. He prefers them, but he’s not limited to them

Jack can and will eat other demons, not just humans

We rocking with this for now, maybe I’ll add more later

Also, thank you all so much for the support for the general Headcanons! Love you all, Have a wonderful day :)

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby #idk what to tag this as

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upn-the-sky · 7 months

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Give me God of War!! (Ares OOAK, Part 1)

okay, you know, how craft works.

One day you've just become attached to GOW with ropes and tears. Another day you've decided in your head that you can't breath without any figure from this game.

You probably buy Kratos action figure (as I did) and probably feel yourself satisfied because your money are safe now (as I thought too! I can't have armored Kratos on his olympic throne, cause I don't have a third kidney, sadly, so I was very pleased with a little god Kratos figure (Neca). After fixing up paint on his face, I look at him and think ohw, you are gorgeous :зззззз).

So, you are moving forward, replay or rewatch god of war games, especially the first games... you are fine.

UNTIL you decide that you are an adept, who stans GOW Ares. You fire up this dump and can't live your life without Ares doll. Idol. I-doll.

If you are me, then you can understand. As Ares said, flesh burns, bones breaks, but putting man into making a custom doll is what truly destroys him. So I hugged my family to increase my level of rage and started. Now you can go under the cut

Actually, I wouldn't do it, but there is no GOW Ares figures in this cruel world at all. Sadly! He is beautiful red-haired war baby, isn't he?

And I like his original design more than the one we have in Ascension. (Althought I like his non-armored outfit (red chiton) from Ascension concept arts, which wasn't used). Anyway, if we want to have our own god of war, we have one way to figure it out.

Personally I've seen only one Ares OOAK in the internet. It was at Neca Kratos base and it was kinda fine. There was completely re-sculpted head, but the body was without any changes. Kratos in his slut era (thank you tumblr, you are the best) was really scraggy, so Ares with his thin waist looked funny 😅.

Well, anyway, Ares wasn't a thin reed and loved to hunch over, so we need to be canon.

I would say, I am not an OOAKer at all, I've just customized my own ball-joined dolls a couple of times, and I say it straightly, making Ares bjd would be nice, but it probably turns out to an endless torture for me and my finances. So for the base I decided to chose 1/6 scale action figure. I needed to harvest a head and a body. It is going to be a re-sculpted hybrid anyway, so we can ignore color difference and stuff. Yes, I devoted my heart and aliexpress account to Ares 🥲

Whoever recognized the head donor actor, well done x) A bit of alcohol and nail cutter for the eyes (it's varnish was undestructible, holy shit..) will manually wipe out his personality forever, bye

Beautiful face. But totally needs to be reworked. Ares has unique face features like a round forehead, wide mouth, full upper lip and a bit potato, but still hellenic nose (isn't it precious? 💕). Honestly I think Santa Monica made him really pleasing and beautiful man in his mature ages. He is not old, but you feel that he is not young too already.

So I took out my Ares iconostasis, which allows me to absorb his beauty from all angles, and started a portrait sculpting.

It was a little hell, but after letting all changes dry, I sanded it and tinted head using airbrush so it will be able to match a body color. Quick matching test:

Nice?

As you can see, both body and head has a good tan skintone. And I know, Ares in GOW1 is as pale as Kratos.

Why am I not tinted him in ashy grey color? 1) It is night in a game, colors are faded because of it, 2) I tried and it looked messy, really... 3) I headcanon that both Ares and Kratos have the same reason for that: Ares is covered in ashes too. But Ares is not cursed, he is like.. always in contact with fire.

So I think that under this grey dust Ares has classic olive skin, same as Kratos. That's why I leave my Ares as if he was washed in a bath and get tidy like he is going to visit Aphrodite's chamber 💫. Anyway if I want to, I just can use photo filters to change it.

Okay, things become serious now.

We've finally reached to the face up.. And my working table lies in ruins and not usable anymore because of the fucking mess after previous steps.

God dammit on me and every single hair I drew in his eyebrows, but I have to say, it was really exciting to paint him. Finally give him his own gaze, brighten up his lips and cheeks. I didn't want to make him an angry bitch. Because he is not this person for me, neither in myths, nor in the game. He is a god, who lived through a lot of mortal lives and has seen a different kinds of.. chaos you know. OG Kratos is an infant compared to him I mean if you think of amount of past experience Ares has. Imho, he wasn't even truly angry at Kratos in GOW1. So I painted his expression how I feel and interpret his main emotional tone. Ares can be purely wrathful, but wrath is not cynical. That's what i think of him.

Okay, when the god became able to truly look after me, I couldn't hesistate and started to made the most iconic feature of him. His flaming hair and beard.

And I'll say it if you don't. I absolutely ❤ adore ❤ his red tousled mane ❤ .

(Just imagine Aphrodite tugging it or brushing, or just bury her face in his hair, because she knows that he will never burn her with his flames. I want to draw this now...)

I wanted his hair to be soft, easily combed and glowing without any electric lights. Gladly I've worked with a doll hair for a long time already.

Earlier I didn't cut off all of plastic hair from the head, only changed hairline by moving it a bit upper from his forehead. It was a part of the plan from the beginning. For the dolls I usually use very thin wool, and plastic mold will provide needed volume for his front combed strands. Screenshots before the eyes, two days of straggling (I wanted all hair to be removable without damaging varnish on his face) and we finally done.

And honestly I don't even want to shorten his hair. He is a perfection.

(Sorry for the empty juice bottle, I will set him on a body later)

Thank you for watching.

Skeletor will return soon with Part 2, where we will create his iconic armor. Well, I hope it will be soon. As soon as I have donors for a dog heads 🥲 He really loved Cerberus.

#ooak doll #ooak #action figures #ares #ares god of war #gow #god of war #gowr #god of war ragnarok #gow ragnarok #upn-the-sky handycraft #kratos gow #kratos

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happi-tree · 2 months

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heart, liver, and other matters of the body

Each morning, Lincoln takes in the face in the mirror, and sometimes, he likes what he sees.

Other times, Link glances over the wide eyes done up in borrowed eyeliner, the jawline that seems too square, too sharp today, frets at the broad slope of shoulders, the indelicate scarred brow and callused hands and battered, ashy knees, tries to sculpt the features there into something more feminine with willpower alone.

Or: Lincoln tries on a dress for the first time and comes out to her boyfriend.

ao3

Here's my Swiftli Week fic for Day 6: Secrets! 🤫 I did some research for this one, and it was lots of fun. Hope you enjoy!

(P.S. A little context for the title: xīn’gān - Mandarin term of affection which literally translates to “heart and liver” but is equivalent to “heart and soul” or “my everything” in English. Implies that, like a heart or liver, this partner is something one cannot live without.)

Lincoln Li-Wilson is buzzing with nervous energy all throughout their shopping date.

Link’s boyfriend, Taylor, can clearly tell that something’s off (he’s let his emotions show more plainly over the past few months, but he’s always been observant, always cared, and that makes Link smile fondly).

Lincoln runs a hand along the racks of clothes, distracting anxious nerves through the textures and colors, and graciously, Taylor doesn’t ask.

Not yet , a voice in Lincoln’s head says, only to be batted away by Taylor’s hand brushing against his own as they sift through the clothes together.

The mall doesn’t see a lot of traffic, these days - hasn’t seen a lot of traffic since their parents were teenagers, to be honest - so it almost feels like they have the place to themselves.

It’s nice, Link thinks while thumbing through the hangers, stopping on a flash of buttercup yellow.

It feels soft against the skin, weighty enough to be substantial but not stifling, and the silhouette…

Lincoln takes the garment off the rack, adds it to the others.

Today, today, I’m gonna tell him today, Link repeats like a mantra, disguising nervous, shaking hands by flapping them a little.

“All good, qīn?” Taylor asks, meeting eyes over the rack, and Lincoln’s heart flutters a little at the affectionate name.

After learning how much Link enjoys terms of endearment, Taylor’s insisted on using Mandarin pet names, citing that they still keep up his “cool and slick” reputation in public. Lincoln frankly thinks it’s pretty silly, since anyone with eyes can tell how sappy Taylor is when it comes to…

“Mm,” Link nods. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t exactly the truth either. “Gonna try these on.”

“Awesome, man!” Taylor replies, and Lincoln doesn’t even flinch. “Want me to, uh, join you in there?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

The offer is very tempting, Link won’t lie, and definitely something they’ve done before - though the trying-on-clothes part historically has the tendency to be abandoned in favor of making out.

“Not today, shǎguā,” Lincoln tells him, voice kept purposefully light and teasing. “You’re gonna have to wait this time.”

“Boo. Have it your way, but I’m definitely sitting on one of those little benches so you can model for me! Plus, my legs could use the break.”

Satisfied, Link leads them through the maze of racks, tries not to dwell on things as they enter the changing rooms marked MEN.

True to his word, Taylor takes up his post on one of the cushioned benches in one of the alcoves, taking out his phone to scroll once he clocks which room Lincoln’s picked.

Link steps in, closes the door, breathes out, and comes face-to-face with the figure in the mirror.

Lincoln’s hair has grown out in the last year or so - rather than being buzzed at the sides, the curls now end around jawline length, depending on how they’re styled.

Taylor visits Hell more frequently, now that things have calmed a little, and Link’s gone with him, asked Terry a bunch of questions about upkeep and styling and braiding that were probably a little too much all at once but were met with enthusiasm and more in-depth answers than what YouTube had to offer.

Link brushes back a few stray twists, meticulously dotted with colored beads and gold cuffs, complemented by the gold flowers dangling from each earlobe and the gold eyeshadow at the inner corners of each eye.

Satisfied, Lincoln begins trying things on, breezing through a graphic Garfield sweatshirt (comfy, but not big enough), a pair of joggers (right size, but the fabric feels a little weird), and an oversized tee shirt (soft and just roomy enough, definitely something to buy).

There’s just one last thing to try.

Carefully, Link takes off the shirt, hangs it back up, pulls on the last article of clothing, shimmies out of the gym shorts from underneath it.

Lincoln fumbles with the side zipper for a little, worried for the briefest moment that it wouldn’t fit around the torso, but manages to get the hang of it, clasps the hook and eye at the top edge awkwardly into place.

Link smooths down the fabric at the hips with nervous hands, then finally allows for a glance upward.

Lincoln stares. And stares.

Someone unfamiliar stares back. But it’s a good unfamiliar, a right unfamiliar.

Link has practiced saying the words in the mirror before, has felt how the shapes of them formed on the tongue, has spoken them into being in whispered, low tones. Link has treated it the same way as practicing his facial expressions, a daily ritual, trying to figure out how to show the right emotions, making sure they look and feel correct on the face as well as in the heart.

Each morning, Lincoln takes in the face in the mirror, and sometimes, he likes what he sees.

On those days, like this morning, Lincoln tries out the words again, mouths them out once more in the present.

She. Her.

And they feel real, feel as true as if she had just taken a whiff of that blue power from the FBI.

Sometimes, they don’t fit, just like he and him don’t feel right, sometimes, like a shirt with the wrong texture, a bite of food that’s a little too mushy.

But sometimes, like right now, they fit Lincoln like a glove.

They fit her like this dress.

The bodice hugs Link’s torso, and though it’s painfully obvious that her upper body is all boxes and angles and no curves, she finds that she doesn’t mind too much.

Straps, about the width of two fingers, tie off in elegant bows that rest at the midpoint between her neck and shoulders, drawing emphasis to her collarbones in a way that makes them look almost delicate. Link frowns a bit at the way the neckline makes her shoulders look so wide.

The light yellow fabric goes phenomenally well with her complexion in a way that makes her dark, freckled skin nearly glow, and the texture is a little stiffer than she’s used to, but it has a nice thickness to it and doesn’t chafe against her skin, with enough give that she instinctively knows wouldn’t hinder her range of motion.

The skirt is full, gathered fabric flaring out around her hips and stopping a few inches above her knees, though she thinks it was probably meant to be a longer dress on someone with shorter legs.

She twists around in it, trying to catch a glimpse of different angles, and the way the hemline flutters around her thighs is completely alien to her, but she thinks she likes it.

She feels feminine. Girly. Is girly.

Lincoln feels like a girl. She is one.

“Link, you okay?” Taylor’s voice is muffled through the door, and there’s a small shadow beneath it, followed by a half-hearted little knock.

Shit.

“You’ve been in there awhile.”

Fuck, has she? Maybe she got a little too carried away staring and lost track of time.

Link wracks her brain for a proper response, a yeah, I’m okay or yes, I’m fine, I’ll be out in a minute , but they get stopped up in her throat as she realizes that she’s still wearing the dress and she hasn’t come out to him yet like she planned to.

“Is it okay if I come in? No funny business, I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Taylor wears dresses and skirts all the time, it’ll be fine, he won’t be weirded out by it, Lincoln attempts to rationalize. It doesn’t really work, so she tries to speak again.

“‘M fine,” is all that comes out, high-pitched but not in a pretty way.

“You don’t sound fine,” Taylor argues, voice softened out at the edges so that it doesn’t sound accusatory. “Can I please come in?”

Link squints her eyes shut against it all and nods minutely, then realizes that Taylor can’t see her and manages a shaky “Yes.”

“Okay,” he says, and Link hears the door creak open, then shut, hears Taylor’s quiet footfalls.

“So, can I -? Woah .”

Cautiously, Link opens her eyes to see Taylor shaking off an expression of… bewilderment? Confusion? Curiosity?

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, “I’m just - I wasn’t expecting - you look really pretty, dude.”

Feeling a little too overexposed, too raw, too much, Link can’t help the way she flinches.

“Oh, baby,” Taylor says, sadness evident in his voice, and Link hates the sound of it, hates that she made him that way. “Can I touch you?”

Not trusting her voice, Link nods, and her boyfriend steps closer, winds an arm around her back, and she melts into his hold, crumbles into his familiar warmth.

“You’re crying,” he observes quietly, reaching with his other hand to thumb away a tear, and Lincoln hadn’t even registered the wetness spilling down her cheeks until he mentioned it.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Link’s voice sounds a little too deep to her own ears, discordant with the girl in the mirror, and another tear slips out anyway. “Just… overwhelmed?”

“Okay,” Taylor says, “We can work with that, xīn’gān.”

Xīn’gān , Lincoln thinks, heart and liver, my everything . Taylor only uses that when he’s serious.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks.

“It’s silly,” Link starts, then continues before Taylor can refute it. “I just… it’s hard, and I’ve been meaning to tell you, I promise, I just… couldn’t figure out when or how.”

She laughs a little, then, high-strung and nervous.

Lincoln pulls away, glances at their reflections, and Taylor’s eyes follow hers.

“You’re not, uh, breaking up with me in this dressing room, right?”

“No,” she says, a little too loud. “No,” she repeats, forcing her voice softer, higher. “This is a good thing, I swear, it’s just…” “Hard?” Taylor asks.

“Mm.”

Lincoln inhales shakily, reaches for Taylor’s hand, and Taylor latches them together, gives them a light squeeze.

God, she’s so lucky to have him.

Her free hand fists in the fabric of the dress, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“I think I’m trans.”

She said it. There’s no taking it back now.

Taylor’s thumb runs along the side of her hand. “That’s amazing, babe. I’m so proud of you,” he says, and Link knew in the back of her mind that her boyfriend would always be supportive, but that last irrational bit of fear finally vaporizes.

Lincoln opens her eyes, and Taylor’s looking at her with so much open affection that it makes her eyes water up with tears again, and she brushes them away.

“I’m not… I still like being a guy, sometimes,” She says, the words leaving her in a rush, “but sometimes I feel more like a girl? And sometimes it’s a little bit of both?”

“That’s cool,” Taylor says with another encouraging squeeze to their joined hands.

“I think I might be… bigender?” Link tells him, and wow, it’s so nice to hear the word aloud, to tell someone. “Or maybe genderfluid? Genderqueer, definitely.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Her boyfriend says with a smile, looking a little misty-eyed himself. “Coming out’s really fucking nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

“No kidding.”

“Is Link still okay to use?”

“I think so, yeah,” Lincoln responds, and she’s thought quite a bit about it. Despite how masculine her full name is, Link still likes it a lot. Maybe she’d find something later, but for now, she’s content with it.

“I, um,” Lincoln stutters, a little unsure of how to word it. “Is it alright if you use she/ her for me today? I still like he/him, but… feminine feels better right now.”

“Of course. Speaking of feminine, this dress looks fantastic on you.”

“Really?” Link asks, twisting a little and glancing back at the mirror, grateful to see that her makeup still looks okay.

“Really. You should buy it! If you like it, too, of course.”

“I do,” She confirms, wiping up the last of her tears, letting go of Taylor’s hand to pat her face dry with the backs of her palms. “I really do.”

“Did you do a little spin yet?” There’s a fond excitement in Taylor’s eyes as he looks her up and down - not just appraisingly, but lovingly.

She shakes her head.

“Trust me, it’s the best part. I know these things.”

Lincoln spins around a little, curious, and the way the dress floats around her, the way the fabric laps against her legs like waves - it’s addictive and oddly freeing. She twirls a little faster, reveling in the feel of it, and a smile stretches wide on her face as she lets out a little whoop of excitement.

“This is amazing, Tay!”

“It’s great, right?”

Link comes to a stop, her dress still in motion from the force of her whirling, and she’s giddy as the fabric swooshes, then settles.

“Yeah. Wow, I kinda never wanna take this off.” She smooths her hands down her sides and over her waist, looking up again at her reflection.

She looks happy.

Lincoln is happy - really, truly, incandescently happy, in a way she doesn’t think she’s felt in a long, long time.

“You do kinda need to take it off to buy it, though,” Taylor says. “As much as I love how gorgeous you look in it.”

“Guess so,” Link says, already dreading changing back. Maybe she can convince Taylor to help her out of the dress - with minimal making out. Maybe.

“Have you told anyone else?” Taylor asks her, dispersing Lincoln’s brief fantasies.

Link shakes her head. “I thought about telling Dad, but, well, he’d want to tell Grant… things are still a little rocky between us, but, like, I still love him, and I don’t wanna hurt his feelings by not telling him directly? Does that even make sense?” “It does, I think,” Taylor says.

“I’m gonna tell Normal and Scary, soon, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And… I was thinking of talking to Hermie about… this. Gender,” Lincoln confesses, though she still cringes at the thought of it. She didn��t like to admit it to herself, but they probably knew a lot more about gender nonconformity than Link’s figured out through her own research.

“Mm, my auncle probably has some good insights, even if the two of you don’t really get along,” Taylor muses, seemingly on a similar train of thought.

“She's probably not gonna make fun of me, right?”

Her boyfriend’s eyes gleam with demonic light even in the weird fluorescent lighting of the changing room, brows furrowed, and Lincoln’s stomach does a funny little flip at the expression. “Link,” He says seriously, “If they’re even the slightest bit mean about it, I’m fucking his shit up on sight. I don’t care if we’re related - Nobody messes with my girlfriend.”

My girlfriend, Link’s mind plays back, loops it like a broken record as something shining and effervescent floods the cavities of her lungs. My girlfriend, my girlfriend, I’m his girlfriend .

Lincoln must not be making the right face, because Taylor hastily tacks on, “W-who is also my boyfriend! Sometimes?”

He blinks up at her, brows tilted upwards in concern, a silent are you okay? and god, Link is so, so happy that she lets out a little huff of laughter.

“No, no, it’s not that, I just… I didn’t realize how much I’d like hearing you say that.”

“Oh?” A shit-eating grin forms on her boyfriend’s face, and before she can do anything about it, he’s reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand. “I have the most beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend in the world. I adore her big brown eyes, her pretty hair, her stunning smile… oh, my god, look at that, there it is, my girlfriend’s smile.”

“Stop,” Link says, half-hearted and breathless, so much heat rushing to her dimpled cheeks that Taylor, even with his demonic heritage, can probably feel it. And she would look down, but she’d only meet Taylor’s smug, knowing smirk, and that would only make her more ridiculously happy.

Taylor moves his hands to her waist, squeezes at her sides, and though she’s sure he’s continuing his goofy little litany, she’s a little too overwhelmed by sheer exhilaration to make out most of it.

Not quite sure what to do with all her joy, laughter tumbles out, lower and raspier than she would like at the moment, but loud and bright and full.

“Oh, wow, my girlfriend just laughed and it’s my favorite sound in the whole wide world!” Taylor says, and she can hear the beam in his voice, so wide that his eyes narrow to crescents. “My girlfriend looks so pretty in this dress. I’m gonna have to buy her a dozen more.”

“You are not doing that!”

“Of course I am,” Taylor refutes, shaking his head with that adorable vehemence of his. “I’m rich! One for every day of the week, at least. You look so happy in it. I’m gonna spoil you so bad, wô de tiānshî.”

“Wô de tiānshî,” Lincoln parrots, sounding out the rise and fall of the syllables carefully. “I haven’t heard that one. What does it mean?”

“‘My angel,’” Taylor tells her softly, thumbs gently circling at her waist, and the reverence in his eyes makes her feel simultaneously unmovable and unsteady on her feet. “I always thought it would suit you, but traditionally, it’s used for girlfriends. Unless that’s too, like, weirdly gendered, uh, if it makes you uncomfortable -”

Link crushes her wonderful, amazing boyfriend to herself in a tight hug.

In an instant, Taylor’s arms circle around her, too, and so much about her has felt wrong lately, but this has always, always felt right.

“I love it,” Lincoln says, “I love you . Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Love you, too,” he replies, and they stay like that for a few long moments.

Eventually, Link pulls away, and Taylor drops his arms.

“So, wanna get this dress and get out of here and go for froyo in the food court?” He asks.

“Only if you help me take this off,” Link answers, waggling her eyebrows like Taylor had earlier. "Seriously, the zippers on these things are kinda tricky."

Taylor laughs.

“That’s my girl.”

#happy international women's day!!! *transes a guy's gender*#bigender link is so real to me okay. so real #also. this is the first time i think i've written someone coming out maybe 😅 hope it reads somewhat realistically!#also ft some mandarin terms of endearment from taylor (and link. link's learning :])#okay uhhhhh hope y'all like it!!!#dndads #fic #swiftli #dndads swiftli week 2024 #happi scribbles

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notemaker · 1 year

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Two Sides of the Same Snowflake

Jack knows cold.

His knowledge of it is as deep as his understanding of himself, perhaps even more so. It’s as much a part of him as he is a part of it, veins of ancient magic as old as the seasons, threaded and tangled and weaved until given form of a boy that really isn’t. Such threads and knots make Jackson as much an Overland as it makes him Jack Frost: He is Magic and he is Winter, which is to say the same thing, gifted and cursed with human body. Or as human as Jack can appear like.

To Jack, cold has always been home, like his mother. Like his sister. Like his king.

Jack feels the cold with a sense of comfort, a blanket that layers under his skin, beyond his physical body, although he enjoys it perfectly well that way, too. He feels cold as one would feel one’s own arm or leg, except everywhere, all at once. It’s beautiful. Until it isn’t.

Jack stares at the discolored tint Hiccup’s body has been steadily taking over the last two days, bleaching away his red-colored cheeks. They’ve taken to a sickening mix of pale yellow’s and bruised blue’s and ashy white’s to it—and those are Jack’s colors, the ones Jack wears with pride, like they were made for him and him only.

Jack’s gaze is fixed in front of him, focused hard at the way the metal chest plate goes up, so agonizingly slowly…and down, again. Then, there will be a moment of silence and nothing at all, and Jack doesn’t know, Jack doesn’t know if this one will finally be his friend’s last breath.

Jack doesn’t blink. Time slows, looses it’s meaning. His breath is kept tight under lock, not daring to miss a single moment to himself. He does not matter, right now. Only Hiccup does.

Hiccup’s chest rises up once more, defying death with every moment, and Jack feels like crying. All the senses of the word can not encapsulate his living grief.

Yes, Jack thinks, he thought he knew cold. Turns out he doesn’t, not at all.

He understands, now, why there are people who come to detest it. It’s cold, and for once, Jack is too.

In honor of the tenth year anniversary of the series finale and inspired by @alkalinefrog ‘s art stream, have a hijack moment turned merlin bbc. :) (I apologize for the people who came looking for actual Merlin content, I just had to, as my other fave dumb magical/noble people that belong to the past)

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sciencelings-writes · 10 months

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The Ballad of Frost and Flames

Day 2 of Zelink Week 2023 hosted by @zelinkcommunity

Prompt: Forbidden

WC: 1,178

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48498928

Another part of my Fem!Zelink AU, takes place during the time Link is in hiding from the king, what better place to hide than right under his nose at his own masquerade ball.

Link adjusted her horned headpiece in the mirror once more before fastening her scaly white mask to her face. Her fiery orange lips were barely visible under the dragon's snout but she was still glad to have taken the time to let Urbosa paint them on. She had spent so much time trying to reject her femininity to appease other people that she had nearly forgotten that there were parts of it she enjoyed sometimes.

Her clothes were a stunning display of warm tones and flowing fabrics, shining gold embroidery and scarlet beads. Surrounded by the ashy colors of smudged makeup, her ocean-blue eyes nearly glowed beneath the masquerade mask.

She couldn’t help but grin nervously at her reflection. Urbosa had told her not to worry, that there was no way that the king would recognize her but she still felt the need to hide a few small blades in her clothes… just in case. She didn’t have to work too much to fit a few scimitars beneath her thick furry belt.

The ballroom was a chaotic mess of vivid colors and elaborate costumes, it seemed like even the wealthy enjoyed some form of enrichment, and Rhoam would do anything to raise the general mood of the population, considering that their hero was in hiding and their princess had yet to show signs of divine power.

They had been told that Her Highness would be forgoing the event to focus on her prayers, even the king had been convinced of this, knowing that his daughter wasn’t much for parties anyway. The trusted sheikah advisor had been assigned to her protection all day, and she would never betray the king's trust, right?

Urbosa had refused to tell her what the princess would be wearing, but she had made the educated assumption that it would match her own in some way. She wasted her time speculating on whether it would be leaning into the same element as hers was or inspired by something completely opposite but still somehow related. She had heard tales of both different kinds of fire and water dragons before, perhaps it wasn’t even a dragon at all, but some other beast only found in stories. But Link wasn’t creative enough to come up with a solid idea without snatching a book from the royal library.

Link meandered casually through the masses of sparking gowns and vivid displays of fashion design, freezing in place nearly every time she saw a pair of green eyes, though she was always disappointed. Thankfully she didn’t need to identify a certain set of eyes to know when she saw her Zelda.

She was crowned by a cluster of shimmering pale crystals, and wrapped in a cool blue dress that left skin exposed at her shoulders and risque slices above both of her thighs. Her white dragon mask was nearly identical to Links, though under it her lips were painted a blue common among the gerudo. She had a feeling that by the end of the night, they would turn a little more purple.

Her eyes met a pair that resembled a patch of lush grass bursting out of a layer of snow and suddenly the overwhelming noise of the people around them blurred into the background like they were really a mile away. Her scarlet lips attempted to pull themselves into a giddy smile, but she managed to tame them into something more of a playful smirk. She wanted to seduce the princess, not look like an excited puppy, and she really didn’t want to disrespect her elegant outfit by acting like a doofus in it.

“And I thought I would have the best costume here…” Link said once she cleared her throat after she caught herself staring a little too long at the slits that showed off the smooth skin of Zelda’s hips. She didn’t have to wonder how soft the princess felt beneath her callused fingers, but the thought of it still sent her heart racing a little faster than it had been a moment before.

“You could use a little more skin showing, but I’m not complaining, I think you look quite handsome in red, have you ever thought about dying your hair?” Zelda smiled as her hand grazed the sash that was tied across her torso.

Later they would discover that there was a third dragon-themed set of clothes that showed a lot more skin, but Urbosa thought that Link would be more comfortable with the Dinraal version. She was right, of course, but that didn’t stop Link from asking to borrow it for more… personal use.

“Perhaps if I ever need to get more covert with our meetings, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…” The hero went to place her hand on Zelda’s back, to innocently lead her to the dance floor, only to delight in realization when her palm met bare skin. She was liking this dress more and more, especially when she felt her princess shiver beneath her gentle touch.

Link couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would notice any suspicious red smudging on the princess's back, or if her waterfall of golden hair would be able to cover whatever evidence of her hero’s lips being there she would leave behind.

One night, that was all they could manage.

One night in the public eye, one night without having to worry too much about being discovered, one night to pretend that they were both normal and not failures of destiny. A night like this one was unlikely to ever repeat itself again. They had to take advantage of it.

Before the sun rose, Link would have to sneak out of the princess's room, in a stealth suit provided by Impa, knowing that their time together would never feel like it was enough. There would always be one last kiss before the long spans of not being able to catch a glimpse of each other. One day a sweet goodbye pressed on the lips of the princess may be her last, one day the end would come for them and as the whole kingdom knew, they would fail to defeat it.

But for now, the spirits of ice and fire danced. They laughed and spoke with their heads so close to each other that they could breathe each other's air, though the snouts of their masks prevented them from getting any closer without some seriously strategic movement.

Perhaps if things were different, if Link had been born following how the legends wrote she should’ve been, or if Zelda wasn’t a princess born to continue a legacy that was mandatory to the safety of the kingdom, If her father could manage to allow her a single reliable relationship that brought her endless joy, if the end of everything weren’t approaching at an unknowable pace.

But that wasn’t the world they lived in, and someday, they won’t be able to hide anymore. At that point, it was unlikely that there would be a happy ending. However, their odds were already pretty terrible, what was one more risk?

#zelink week 2023 #zelink #zelink community #fem!zelink #Lesbian Zelink AU #botw #this one is a short read but i hope you guys like it anyway

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brunchable · 2 years

Text

Devotion or Delusion: Part III - Sorceress Supreme || Doctor Strange x Reader.

Word count: 3.7K

WARNINGS: RATED [M] - acts of violence

A/N: this part three has been sitting in my drafts for too long and i finally had the will to finish it. If anyone hasn't read part one and two, i've linked it below. this one's a pretty old series.

***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***

PART I || PART II

Last Chapter:

“I have a strong hunch that your variant has been corrupted by the Darkhold, I think that this approach will work effectively.“ Wong gave a little nod, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in his expression, given that this was the very first time he had ever dealt with an issue like this.

"Good, because being possessed is not a pleasant experience.” Stephen laughed and began to juggle the figures as they floated in the air, and Wong made a motion with his hands to form a ball that combined all of the characters into one massive one. Wong cast the spell onto Stephen by directing it toward him, and it was taken up by his physical body, the protection spell flashing on his forehead.

“(Y/N), I think we’re done here.” Stephen rushed back up the stairs only to discover that you were missing from where he left you. Stephen ran around the Sanctum, calling out your name, “(Y/N)!"

Wong followed right after with a puzzled look on his face,"What’s wrong?”

“(Y/N)’s missing”

•••

As the structure you were in began to disintegrate piece by piece, there was nothing but eerie silence and crackling sounds in the vacuum of space. Nothing frightened you, not even the stranger standing in front of you as you approached the edge of time. You were in what was supposed to be the Sanctum Santorum—or at least what was left of it. This man's mental state was clearly depicted by the squalid surroundings he found himself in; broken, dark, and disturbed.

Despite your deft footwork, you could hear a creaking sound coming from the floor below you. Stephen gave a slight turn of the head as he became conscious of the presence of another person, which was something he hadn't felt physically for a considerable amount of time. His ears perked up and listened intently; he was very familiar with the silence, and he was confident that he would be able to detect even the smallest shift in it.

“Hm.” His low chuckle came from him, and with a voice that could make your bones splinter, he says, “You’re always full of surprises.” As he continued to stare towards the end, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. The light that emanated from it was the sole source of lighting in the room; the stark contrast between his light-colored skin and his deep blue eyes made his appearance seem ashy.

“I'm an overachiever." You responded in a hushed tone while maintaining a considerable physical distance from him. You were very stealthy as you drew the Staff of Badoon while keeping your arm slightly concealed behind your back.

“Indeed you are, my love.” Turning around, he has his hands tucked behind his back. His eyes glance at the hand that is hidden behind you, and he cocks his head to the side as he says, "But at the same time, very predictable."

“And you’ve always been perceptive.” You revealed your weapon, which radiated orange energy, and you flashed an arrogant grin across your lips. While the two of you were circling on the floor, Stephen nodded in agreement, and you both proceeded to cautiously size each other up.

“So I’ve been told.”

“You’re also cunning and filled with lies.” The manner in which you let those words escape your mouth was seething. You glared at him while the images of everything he stole from you and what he put you through played over and over in your head, “Do you really think I would fall for your little deal? I bet you’d kill my Stephen, regardless of my decision, because you have no other way of getting out of here.”

As you hurled the truth in Stephen's face, his grin grew wider, and he exclaimed, "Impressive. You had me right where you wanted me." He laughed hysterically with his arms outstretched, his demeanour reminiscent of a twisted maniac, “Or should I say, right where I wanted you.” He smiled menacingly as he scowled at you.

Stephen materialised a whip with the intention of striking the hand that was holding your weapon. Your wrist was snagged by Stephen's purple whip, causing you to drop the staff on the corner, and with it, you were forced to lunge forward towards the man. You leaned back with your weight held on his whip before twirling around to make him trip forward.

You made an effort to punch the man, but he blocked your blow with his tao mandalas, so you kicked him in the stomach in an effort to buy yourself some more space while you ran towards your weapon. Stephen was knocked back by the force of your kick, and as you ran away from him, he rolled a flame of faltine into a purple ball and threw it in the direction of where your weapon lay.

Suddenly, you had been thrown to the side by the explosion, and as you flew to the ground, you rolled, eventually ending up in your stomach. You let out a frustrated groan as you managed to get up, “Show off.” you muttered.

You threw your own flaming balls of faltine towards him, and in return he conjured a spell that absorbed its energy until it was big enough to throw it back at you. The mass of dark purple energy was flung back to you; you braced yourself and, with a gesture of your hand, you turned the large mass of dark energy into cherry blossom petals. Whilst the petals covered his line in sight of you, you conjured more eldritch energy and shoved it on the floor with force, the magic interweaving across the black floor towards Stephen, transforming into the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak.

Stephen's keen vision allowed him to see the bands slithering toward him and he slashed one, two, and three interfaces at them in quick succession. His mind set on surviving, he deflected, the air around him glistening and flashing as he disassembled the fabricated threats.

While he was distracted, you looked at your weapon and used your own eldritch whip to snatch it from the corner. You whip your head as you see a swarm of tao mandalas flying straight towards you, but thanks to your nimble feet, you were able to dodge them with a few flips.

You make your way towards him while clenching the handle of the staff as tightly as you possibly can. He swung his hand to make magic, but you attacked first, smashing your fist into his arm. Stephen charged towards you as predicted, aiming for the heart of the staff in the hopes of breaking it. But you evaded his attacks gracefully. While Stephen's blows were missing everything but air, you drove the butt of the staff into his spine. He wobbled, but managed to stay upright.

“Remember the first rule? Never underestimate your enemy?” You taunted Stephen while casually spinning the staff.

Stephen pictured you asking him the same question in the past, and his heart wrenched in pain at the memory of having lost you. But things were different now, because you were there, in front of him, and you just don't know how much you love him yet.

Stephen cracked his neck before pivoting on one foot as he raced for you once again, attacking you with two, four, or six mirror shards with the evident intention of ripping your staff to shreds. You were able to detect the conjured anomalies just as quickly as he performed his spell, make an assessment of their superpositions, create a reversal for their kinetic energy, and cause them to diverge into crackling kaleidoscopic blasts that came from your hands.

Stephen was thrown against the wall with a significant amount of force by the sudden surge of pure eldritch energy. Your eyes’ golden glow faded into their normal colours while summoning the bands of sheol this time around to restrain the weakened Stephen.

"How did you advance to such a powerful level of sorcery?" Stephen groaned, his voice raspy as you sat him up using magic to command the bands.

"Oh Stephen, have I not already told you that I would become a more powerful sorcerer than you are? You're curious as to how I did it? but I'm not going to tell you, because magicians aren't supposed to reveal their tricks," You lowered yourself to the ground and lifted Stephen's chin with the tips of your fingers, all while gloating about the fact that you hold the upper hand in this situation by flashing a devilish grin at the same time.

“You must’ve used some very powerful magic to travel through universes.” He shook his head.

"Oh no, but I should thank you,” You said quickly, “What you did to me got me very desperate, Stephen. So, I made a bargain with someone, who was generous. He called himself ‘he who remains’.” You explained it to him.

The only reason you were here was because of the man who you had bound in front of you using magical means. In the world in which you originated, Stephen was your spouse, and the life you had together brought you nothing but joy and fulfilment. Although he may not have been as physically affectionate as you would have liked, he still managed to demonstrate his feelings of love in his own special ways. It seemed like it occurred in the blink of an eye, but one day he started behaving differently, and he wasn't the Stephen that you knew. You had a sinking feeling that something was off, and by the time you figured out that he was being possessed, it was too late to save him. He was already taken from you.

You were vengeful and angry when he passed away, and you were determined to have your revenge. You put in long hours of study, even transforming into your astral self so that you could absorb every bit of information that Kamar-Taj could teach you. You went to great lengths, both physically and mentally, to educate yourself in a variety of mystical practices before you could claim the title of Sorcerer Supreme. On the other hand, on the day of your ceremony, a group of people dressed in black military uniforms and calling themselves the "Time Variance Authority" emerged via a gateway that was new to you. You were taken to a location that was both complex and futuristic, where you were left to fend for yourself and be judged.

You were lucky because instead of cutting you down, they offered to recruit you and make you one of them, since they could see that you had promised and that it would be a waste to get rid of you, so you gave in to their request. When that time came, you had already conducted a sufficient amount of research on what really occurs around the TVA.

You were successful in gaining Ravonna's trust, and as a reward, she let you remove the collar that was preventing you from using your abilities. However, you used your magic to modify the machine in such a way that it would prevent you from losing your memories when the time came. You patiently waited for the moment when they would erase your memory and then used the occasion to your advantage in order to get access to this citadel.

When it was your turn to get your memories wiped, you’ve never felt scared in your entire life, you had to give them the performance of a lifetime to make them believe that you'd forgotten your life. The fact that your modified collar might not work scared you even more—but it did and you were so successful that you had everyone in the TVA fooled.

You lost track of time, but the only thing you knew was that you’ve spent a long time working for the TVA. Long enough to be in the same ranks as Ravonna and meet the ‘He who remains’ in flesh. You waited a long time for that moment to arrive, and you requested to meet him alone.

The first time you met ‘He who remains’ he told you instantly to drop the act, “Everything you said and done, is in here. I paved the way, I am the reason that you’re standing there, right now.” He told you, pointing at a thick pile of paper, and yet you refused to believe him. It was your hard work and your will that brought you there, nothing else.

“Then why take me away from my own world?”

“Because you weren’t supposed to be Sorcerer Supreme, your husband was.”

“So he wasn’t supposed to die?” You asked him, almost on the verge of believing that he had other plans for Stephen. Nathaniel, who sat on his chair, feet on the table, seemingly relaxed, shook his head.

“Nope, I had other plans for him and multiple amounts of him—but they seem to be dying off, and I have—by the way—found your culprit. He’s a real trouble maker.”

“And what? You want me to get this guy for you? In one condition—” He cut you off.

“In one condition—I knew you were going to say that. Here’s the deal, I’ll bring you to another universe where you can be together again with Stephen again. And in return, I need you to get this man. Live, grow old in that universe, just give me the man wrecking my universes.”

"I'm not going to let you take my happiness away again, you already did that once and once is enough." You squeezed his face between your hands and let it go harshly. You pulled out your Tempad, setting the coordinates for the TVA.

“It’s only I, who has the most devotion for you (Y/N)! What does he have that I don't?” Stephen asked as you typed away on the screen.

“A way, Stephen. You have lost your way. I’m pretty sure that if the version of me was alive in this universe, she wouldn’t be proud of what you’ve become. You’re not devoted to me, you’ve become deluded.” You said coldly as you spoke on your dead variant’s behalf.

The see-through orange gateway opens and multiple TVA officers arrive at the scene, “Hunter SS-13.” One of the officers saluted you as you kept eye contact with Stephen.

"Take him away." You issued an order to the police, and they put a collar on Stephen that was quite similar to the one you had worn in the past. "Reset Charge." You held your hand out and one of the officers handed it to you while before leaving the scene with Stephen under their authority.

“Hunter SS-13, are you coming with us?” One of your subordinates asked. You turned your head towards her and shook your head.

“No. I have other things to do, go ahead without me.” You told her and with that, she entered the gateway to the TVA and you were left alone in the silence. You set the reset charge on the floor, and then typed up the coordinates of your second universal home. You opened the gateway, and stooped down to activate the reset charge before entering through the portal.

•••

It was a relief to finally be back in the sanctum, finding yourself as light as a feather now that you paid off your debt. The sound of Stephen's frantic and anxious voice echoed through the whole Sanctum as he screamed your name.

“(Y/N)! Where are you!?” After running all the way around the hallway, Stephen skidded on the floor after finally locating you. He was so relieved to see you that he almost fell backwards, “(Y/N)! Baby, are you okay? Where have you been?!” Stephen’s eyes darted all over your body, searching for some kind of injury.

You were clinging to his wrists for dear life as he held your head in place with his large hands, and you could feel his pulse beating wildly. His eyes, which were the colour of sapphire, met yours, and the tears that were pooling just below his eyeline caused his eyes to sparkle.

“Are you real?” You questioned him with absolute adoration in your eyes and, at the same time, fear, wondering whether all of this was just an illusion.

Stephen blinked quickly, appearing to be perplexed by your question, and he chuckled as he responded, "Er—I think so. Do you want to search my body for a barcode? Or a charging port?”

You burst into a soft laugh and shook your head, “That’s not what I meant, silly.”

Stephen laughed with you and nodded, “I know, I know. I’m real, as real as my feelings are for you.” Stephen’s gaze left your eyes toward your lips, and his smile disappeared, “Your lip, how did you get that?” He stroked it with his thumb gently.

You flinched slightly, you didn’t realise that you had busted up your lip, “Don’t worry about that, it’s nothing.” You averted eye contact and that's where Stephen instantly knew that you were lying to him about something.

“You’re hiding something from me.” Stephen tilted his head trying to catch your eyes, so you looked at him dead straight in the eyes.

“I will allow you to live the life that you want, but you MUST NOT tell a soul about my gift to you or about the TVA. Not a soul. I can take away what I’ve given you, remember that.”

“I just slipped and fell, okay? It’s nothing serious.” You firmly told him a lie, “Are you okay though? Are you, you?” You diverted the subject to something else.

Stephen nodded, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm alright, no exorcist required." After he had finished laughing sheepishly, he kissed the crown of your head. Even though you gave him the impression that you didn't want to talk about it, he couldn't shake the feeling that you were keeping something from him.

•••

You remained awake with your eyes closed as you lay on Stephen’s chest, listening intently to his heartbeat that gave you the utmost comfort. It was almost two in the morning and you waited until he was in deep sleep before you sneak into the undercroft of the Sanctum.

You slowly and deliberately slid out of bed and reached for a robe to put on to cover yourself up. You opened the door very gently while very lightly touching the doorknob with your fingertips as you turned it to unlock it. You detested the way that everything in the Sanctum creaked and groaned at the merest hint of movement.

You tip-toed your way down the creepy old basement and approached the floating rock in the middle of the carved ritual circle. You stood in front of it, and took a huge exhale while shaking your hands.

You took the symbol of the Runes of Kof-Kol with your finger and crossed your hands together, an eldritch energy circle appeared on your left hand as you prepared to create the spell that’ll make Stephen forget about his possession.

“Runes of Kof-Kol?” The resonant low baritone voice of Stephen echoed off the stone walls of the undercroft, giving you a shock.

When you turned back, you saw the silhouette of your man leaning against the cold stone wall. When you did eventually acknowledge his presence, he emerged from the shadows wearing nothing but sweatpants and messy hair since he had just gotten out of bed. You tried focusing your attention elsewhere in an effort to avoid staring at his wonderful torso. You just stood there looking as guilty as a stray kitten who had taken food from the table.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you’re a sorceress, (Y/N)?” Stephen tilted his head, waiting for you to respond to him.

“Eventually… but not never.” You told him in a low voice, casting your eyes down. Swallowing the nervous lump that was stuck in your throat. You need to tread this conversation as carefully as you can.

“You’re so full of surprises, aren’t you?” Stephen chuckled, your eyes flicked at him after hearing that phrase again, “Is this what you were trying to hide from me?” Stephen crossed his arms.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I…” Your brain failed to think of an answer.

“You..?”

“Because I didn’t think it was that important, okay? To me they’re just powers I barely use.” You pulled out any reason that popped up in your head.

“Then what are you using the Runes for?” Stephen interrogated you further, and it was starting to irritate you because you didn’t really prepare for an answer.

You sighed heavily, “I was going to put a spell on Sue and Johnny the night you almost had a fight with him, because you thought he was checking me out.” Nice save.

Stephen furrowed his brow, “Wait—that wasn’t even me.”

“Yeah exactly. Ask them about it if you don’t trust me anymore. But I’d prefer it to not be awkward when we meet again.”

You notice Stephen drop the tension on his shoulder when you mention the subject of him not trusting you anymore, “(Y/N) don’t say that. Of course I still trust you. I just wish you could’ve told me sooner.”

Stephen walked up to you and gave you a giant embrace, the warmth of his chest radiating off of the coolness of your skin. You lied to him even though you felt so terrible doing it, but you know that if you tell him the truth, he would be taken away from you. You are going to have to bear this burden for the rest of your life; it is the cross that has been handed to you.

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