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ophelieverse · 2 years

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can you just write something fluff with Daemon and pregnant reader?She is Viserys and Aemma youngest daughter and their are naming their first son after her father/Daemon brother(damn Targaryens)

۵A name fit for a king.

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader.

I loved this request,especially after the last episode.There’s gonna be some spoilers (but nothing very important)also incest,so if this makes you uncomfortable don’t read and reader gonna have targaryen features.

Thank you for the request,hope you like it and let me know what you think!💕💕

•••••••••••••••••••

The earth awakes slowly,everything around is quiet,the melodious chirping of the birds out of the window glass and the sweet crashing of the waves on the shore were the most beautiful lullaby.

The sun was rising above the horizon,shining with his golden rays all over Dragon Stone who was still enjoying its peaceful slumber.It would be a beautiful day,no clouds in sight,sky bluer as ever and a comforting warmth touching every living creature on the small island.

A beautiful start for an awaited long summer,the one Y/n wished for.After several months of winter it was time for the cold and dark weather to retire and giving its place to the season of eternal sunshine and development.

Delicate golden light glowed on her skin,immaculate and soft,where he was tracing lines with his fingers,almost to pure to be corrupted.Y/n was still asleep,her cheek pressed on the white pillow and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face.

Her husband laid besides her like every morning,the gods have mercy on whoever will try to have his place and stealing away from the thing he begged on his knees for.Daemon remembered the day,when he and Y/n came back together,hand in hand,after winning the war in the Stepstones,and how after,the same night,he went to his brother chambers.

«You said i could have anything i wanted when i gave you my crown.»he told to the King«I want Y/n,wed her to me.»then his knees touched the cold stone floor,a pure gaze of love and devotion in his eyes was powerful enough to have his wish come true.

Purple orbs scrutinized her angelic face,memorizing and mapping every inch of her skin just like they always did.From the way her soft rosy lips were slightly parted,her silky silver hair,strands of moonlight spread on her pillow,and her closed eyelids the closed the world outside.

Such a beautiful and mesmerizing sight should be forbidden for a man like him,but here she was,laying on her side trying to gather some energy back.She need that,more than anyone at the moment.Daemon hands traveled down her arm,savoring the soft texture of her skin,and landing on the growing belly hidden under her nightgown.

Fortunately this pregnancy had been much easier than the last one,the one that gave them two beautiful daughters,twins, Aemma,named after Y/n mother,and Alyssa,named after Daemon’s one.This time Y/n had enough strength to still be able to ride her dragon and to not spend all of her time laying in bed.

Softly Daemon face disappeared in his wife warm neck,lips ghostly kissing the tender skin in attempt to wake her up.A quiet whine,similar to a light breath,left the back of her throat,a little smile was now present on her face as she titled her head to give him more access to continue.

«Good morning,my little storm.»he greeted her,lips still hovering the sensitive flesh on her neck,his arms wrapped around her waist bringing her closer to him as his hands made their way to her stomach again.

«Morning my love.»Y/n voice was still sleepy,her eyes were adjusting to the light in the room,trying to take in as much as she could of her husband handsome features.

Daemon pale blonde hair tickled her cheek and his warm breath on her skin gave her goosebumps all over.The nickname, “Little storm”,the way he used to call when she was little due to her impetuous behavior,made her giggle while she started to play with his hair.

When Daemon palm met the swollen belly a smile stretched on his lips«How did you two slept?»he asked,callous finger brushing and caressing where his child was growing.

«He didn’t move at all,he must have been very tired.»she informed him,humming sweetly and placing a hand over his.

Daemon chest warmed at her words«He’s already listening to his father.»he chuckled a bit.

Both of them wished and hoped for a boy,it was no secret for anyone at this point.Y/n wanted nothing more than a little boy,a little version of his father with beautiful lavander eyes,to love and protect for the rest of her life.

A few seconds later,just like a magical effect,a little kick was felt against Daemon palm melting his heart«That’s my boy.»he whispered with a stupid grin on his face.

Carefully Y/n brought herself closer to her husband,nuzzling the tip of her nose in his hair,airways filled in his sweet scents«I want our son to be born at the Red Keep.»she stated.

Daemon hand faltered,tiling his head up,concerning eyes meeting his wife hopefully ones«You are to give birth at any moment,it would be too dangerous.»he explained to her.

Y/n smiled a little,a sad and distressing expression as she almost choked on her next words«And my father would most likely to be dead by the time i will be able to travel again.»

A sour taste on her tongue and tears forming in the corner of her eyes,the ache in her heart beating furiously in her chest heavy like a stone as she thought of it.Her father had always been nothing but doting and sweet to her,as his second daughter of his beloved first wife,he didn’t care about anything else but to make sure that she was happy and well satisfied with her life.

With the hours spent working on their little Valyria model together,laughing while he narrated to her the tales of their ancestors.All the times she stood right next to him in the small council or in the throne room,because one day she would have been the hand of the Queen and needed to learn about political issues and how to help her sister ruling the realm.

Daemon closed his eyes for a moment,just yesterday he received a crow from the Queen who informed him about his brother worrying declining health.He understood her,Y/n wanted nothing more for her father to witness the birth of his grandson,and how desperately she wished for her child to be a boy to see the gleaming smile that her father had when he met Rhaenyra children.

She wanted to make him proud,his sweet little daughter,one last time with the desire that her father wished to make come true with her mother.

«To King’s Landing then.»they stood there,fingers intertwined over her belly,enjoying each other presence silently celebrating the future birth of they third child.Their first boy.

The travel to King’s Landing happened the next day,Y/n stood on the boat,her eyes up in the clear warm sky as she watched her two daughters flying above her head on their dragons,a hand caressing her big stomach as her husband brushed the hair off her face.

Daemon insisted to be on her side,with Caraxes and Blackfyre,Y/n dragon,flying along side Aemma and Alyssa.From the horizon,the immense sight of the Red Keep started to make its view as the Targaryen boat plowed the calm sea.

Her father was in his chambers,laying in his bed,as Y/n made her way to visit him as soon as she entered the castle.The room was silent,warm and the smell of milk of the poppy lingered all over the place.

She stepped quietly,her long maroon dress brushing against the cold floor,her hands trembling as she pulled away the white tent of her father bed.The king was there,a pale and ill face,a bald head with just some tufts of hair falling on his shoulders,black teeth and ad a white cloth covering the right side of his old and deterioreted face.

«Aemma?»her father voice came out with a choked breath as he opened his eye and looked at blurred figure.

Y/n heart ached in her chest,the memory of her late mother,the whole she had left behind,was still present after all this years«Father»she addressed him with a sweet voice«It’s me,Y/n.»her warm and young hands took his cold and shivering ones,caressing the skin with her thumbs.

«Oh,my Y/n.»her father eyes watered just like hers,his voice broken with emotions«My beautiful daughter.»he called her close to place a wet kiss on her forehead.

«Where are your girls?»he asked then trying to look around the room in search for his granddaughters.

Y/n wiped the tears in her eyes,smiling«They are with me and they will come to visit you soon with someone new.»she told him.

With her father confused expression,of someone who forgot,Y/n brought his hands to her stomach«Your grandson.»

«A boy?»her father cried out.

She nodded«It will be this time,i promise you.»

Her father let go of her hand,shaking his head with a painful whine coming from his lips«Do not make my same mistakes.All of my life i chased a foul dream when everything that i needed was right there before my eyes.»he told her.

Y/n never realized how persistent had become her wish for a son,her wish to give his father what he didn’t have for years,a boy he would have cared about and loved just like he was his.It felt like she owned him a son,being born with a dead twin brother,Y/n,a daughter,came to the world instead of the heir her father longed for.And right now it felt like it was her duty to give tho world a beautiful Targaryen boy for the one that she stole.

«This boy will not be a mistake,father.He will be our blessing.»

The water in the bathtub was warm,almost boiling,but that was the temperature that a dragon needed.

Y/n was sitting there,her back pressed against her husband naked chest,while his hands were caressing her belly with a wet cloth.Hours after she had visited her father,Daemon ha spoke to the Grand Maester asking him of a way to ease Y/n before her time came.A warm bath seemed like the best option,so the rough prince didn’t waste anytime to prepare one.

She hummed quietly,closing her eyes and tasting the relived sensation«Thank you for letting me having time alone with him.»she whispered.

Daemon kissed the back of her head,where her hair were tied up,the smell of roses and cinnamon and the little babbles tickled his skin«How was he?»he asked with a calm voice.

Different,she wanted to answer him.An empty shell of a man was what there was left behind of her father and it pained her.

«He was happy to see me.»she said,the lump in her throat felt thick as she nuzzled her head in her husband neck to seek comfort.

Daemon forced a smile on his lips,planting them on Y/n warms one«He will be happy to meet his grandson too.»he murmured against them.

Y/n didn’t said anything,at this point she didn’t knew anymore.From the moment she was pregnant again in her bones and in her heart she was sure it was gonna to be a boy,but right now,maybe,it was just her blind desire to speak to her just like it did to her father.

«Viserys.»she has said then all of the sudden,in her mind the vivid imagine of her father.

She felt Daemon confused expression behind her as he was holding her close to him«I want our son to be named Viserys.»

It happened during the first light in the morning,the sun was rising behind the hills of King’s Landing when the Red Keep was awakened by the cries of a new life coming to this earth.

The first day of summer,when the air smelled like sea salt,the weather was warm and the city started to live again,little prince Viserys Targaryen was placed in his mother loving embrace.

Daemon was sitting behind Y/n,holding her back up during the entire labor and caressing her sweaty skin whispering in her ears comforting words«It’s him,it’s our Viserys.»he said,his eyes were sparkling with hot tears.

Y/n heart was hammering into her chest,her vision blurred with tears as she looked down at the small bud in her arms.He was absolutely perfect,from his little nose,white tufts of hair on his head and innocent lilac eyes,her son was everything she dreamed for.But then,just like a horrible memory,she remembered the only time she had the chance to hold her younger brother,Baelon,before his soul would have left this life the next day.

«Is he healthy?»Y/n asked holding her son closer to her.

The midwife nodded«The healthiest boy i’ve ever seen,princess.»she reassured her.

«I’m so proud of you.»her husband whispered to her,kissing the side of her face.

She smiled,handing her son to the midwife that confused took him in her arms.The baby started to cry again,pitching screams filled the room,missing his mother soft touch.

«What are you doing?»Daemon asked,concerns all over his face.

«Help me to get up.»Y/n urged him searching hurriedly for his hands.

Her legs felt like they were about to melt under her,the pain between her legs and her desire to just close her eyes and sleep for the entire day to gain back some strength disappeared completely.Tossed side to her aim,letting her father meet his grandson.

Daemon was on his feet immediately,helping Y/n on hers,holding her tired and trembling form to prevent her to hurt herself«You need to rest.»he told her.

«I have all my life for that.»she said with a strained and hoarse voice«My father doesn’t and i promised him that he would had met his grandson.»two servants girl were called in,one of them drying Y/n sweaty face and the other helping her to dress.

Her husband sighed with sad eyes as he walked slowly besides her,step by step till the King room.

«Y/n?»Alicent surprised voice was the first thing they heard once they entered the room«What are you doing here?You should be resting.»she sounded worried as he hurried in her way,holding her other arm for support.

«That’s what i told her.»Daemon muttered under his breath.

The princess shook her head,holding her son up to her chest as her step mother and husband accompanied her to where her father was.

The King was still laying in his bed,his eyes half closed«Y/n?»he asked confused when he saw his daughter coming closer.

She hissed in pain«Father»she called him«There is someone we wish to introduce to you.»her sweet voice sounded full of happiness.

Her father eyes darted to his daughter husband for a second,relived to see him for the last time«Daemon.»he greeted him.

He did the same,hiding his pained expression to see his brother in that state«Brother,this is your grandson,Viserys.»he announced.

And for him there was nothing more beautiful that the result of an undying love,nothing more perfect that his grandson little face as he looked up at him,nothing warmed his heart more than being able to witness what his daughter promised to him.

«Viserys»he tasted the name on his tongue«a name fit for a king.»

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rachalixie · 2 years

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a/n: for @moonacholy’s request for spooky fic with vampire hyunsung and witch felix and reader! sorry i lost your ask baby, i posted it and had to delete it and repost :(

you giggle at hyunjin’s sigh as jisung applies another layer of white makeup to his face, and you follow in with a delicate swipe of blush just like you knew he didn’t want it. he’s wearing a ridiculous dracula outfit that shouldn’t look good on anyone, complete with greased back hair and a red lined cape. but hyunjin looks unfairly good in everything, so. he looks phenomenal.

“vampires aren’t even this pale. i should know. i am one.” he whines, kicking jisung’s shin much harder than he ever could kick a human’s. jisung, on the other hand, went the twilight route, with glistening sparkly skin and his glowy yellow eyes out on display. he’s wearing a shirt that says say it. out loud. it made you cackle when he first emerged from his room in it.

“oh really?” jisung feigns surprise, his red-painted lips forming into a perfect ‘O’. “i’ve never met a vampire before! what’s that like? what does blood taste like?”

“jisung shut up, you literally drank some of my blood last night.” felix rolls his eyes as he joins you all in the kitchen and wraps an arm around you. “the blood that i drew out for a really important potion, and i now need to wait for the next full moon to arrive to do. remind me to never let you drink witches blood again, by the way, it makes you way too hyper.”

you ignore jisung’s indignant squawk to turn towards your boyfriend and press a soft kiss to his cheek. he has star sequins dotting his face, one for each freckle you could find, and his tall and pointy witches hat matches the one perched on top of your head. it almost falls off when you lean in, but he catches it with one hand while the other squeezes you closer into him. he winks at you as you let some of your magic seep through the air, turning the tips of his hair bright pink and the fringe of yours a deep purple.

“are we going out?” you ask, glancing at the time on the microwave’s clock. it’s nearly 10pm, the day is almost over and you want to get out at least a couple hours of being out and about in your true forms, even if it’s playing pretend. you’re meeting your werewolf friend chan and his packmates jeongin and seungmin at a party, and you’re sure that felix’ fae cousin changbin and his mermaid roommate minho will be there too. among a bunch of unassuming humans too, but tonight thats the least of your worries. its halloween, the one night you all don’t have to hide.

“one more shot before we go!” jisung cries, pouring out a couple of blood shots for him and hyunjin while you pour out normal ones for you and felix. in different colored shot glasses, of course, you can only make the mistake of accidently drinking blood once before you learn quickly how not to mix them up.

you all stumble out of your apartment together, walking towards the full moon and enjoying each other’s company until you hear a series of loud kissing noises and a thump coming from behind you.

“but hyunjinnie!” jisung is pouting, draping himself over hyunjin’s shoulders and keeping his grip when the taller boy tries to knock him off. “you’re my soulmate!”

“maybe. doesn’t mean i want your lips anywhere near mine.” the blonde boy grimaces, taking jisung’s hand anyways.

“after over 200 years of being together, you think they would get tired of the bickering,” felix’ deep voice hits your ears, drawing attention away from the mess behind you and onto the boy whose hand your holding.

“you think we’re going to end up like them in 100 years?” you ask, smiling at him as if you know the answer already.

he just smiles in response, eyes twinkling like the stars as you continue to walk together.

—

soft hours

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids scenarios #lee felix fluff #lee felix stray kids #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #soft #hyunjin fluff #jisung fluff #hyunsung

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speckostardust · 5 months

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Blueberry, Looking Out Of The Closet

A 5 + 1 fic about coming out.

The first chapter is out on Ao3 now! Check it out! It takes place in a modified post-pacifist Underswap!

The next chapter is set to be released in either March or April.

Read it on Ao3

Chapter 1: Nights of Giftmas

The heater is on, blowing warm air into the room. Blue’s room is left dark, save for the small light under their blanket, coming from their laptop’s LEDs at the lowest setting.

Blue is opening their favorite game, AUniversity. The intro begins, a short cinematic, and Blue doesn’t skip it. Why would they ever? They love it.

The camera pans above water, showing a large school overlooking a lake. It zooms into a courtyard, with two large goat-like monsters passing out free samples of some kind of food on a stick. One is wearing a tropical-patterned with huge curved horns and long blond hair, and the other wears a purple sundress and sunhat with a purple ribbon, with small horns poking out from them. Boxes slide in from off-screen to under their face as the camera zooms in on the two smiling, naming them as Kingsly and Quinn. Blue knows them as the nice ones. They do a bunch of charity work together. Quinn likes to help out her fellow students and tutor them for free, and Kingsly likes to cook meals for those in need.

The camera zooms off to another part of the campus, right outside of a dorm room. Inside, two humans argue: One has very tanned and dark skin, wearing a blue shirt, and the other is pale, with a slight blush, wearing a green hoodie. The boxes slide in as the one in green throws a book at the other, naming them as Sirik and Harac. The troublemakers. Both love to prank pretty much everyone.

The camera goes through the room and out the door, into the hallway, where two monsters are talking: a cheery light blue rabbit wearing a soft yellow polo and deep red pants, and a brown cat wearing a pink sweater and leather jacket, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The boxes name them as Henry and Harper. The top student and the bad kid. Henry is almost always studying, and trying to drag Harper into his studies. Harper constantly tries to skip class, but Henry literally drags him to class.

The camera runs through the halls and into a classroom, with a teacher teaching the class. The teacher is an enthusiastic, tall skeleton, and a box slides in to name him Roman. The best teacher in the school. He teaches history and is super passionate about it. He wants all his students to feel safe in his classroom.

The camera exits through another door in the classroom and rushes down another hall, then into another doorway leading to a library. At a table sits two monsters: a tall, angry-looking fish lady with red hair, with her head in her hands over a book, and a much smaller yellow lizard patting the other’s back. The boxes slide in to name the two as Nerco and Phonse. Nerco came to the school on a sports scholarship, and really struggles with her studies, and Phonse tutors and helps Nerco as much as she can.

The camera goes past the two and into a dark corner of the library, where a skeleton with a green scarf and black jacket sits on a bean bag, crocheting a small blue blanket. The box slides in to name him Kaushan. Blue’s favorite character. He's the librarian, and often sleeps in the corner of the library to avoid doing his work. He’s not the best at communicating, which is why Blue relates to him so much.

The camera then moves to a book on a nearby table, where it opens to a painting of the school itself. In the sky above it, the title fades in, and under it the main menu.

Blue smiles as they start the game itself. Their avatar climbs out of bed in their dorm room, a little chibi skeleton. It’s dressed in a white sweater, black pants, and a light blue scarf, and its eyes are bright stars. They spent a while trying to get it as accurate as possible. They move their character out the door and to the library in a practiced motion.

In the dark corner of the library, Kaushan sits on his beanbag, just like in the intro, but in a chibi art style. With the game prompting them to, they sit down on a beanbag next to him.

A text box slides in from the bottom of the screen, as a much more detailed image of Kaushan slides in from the right, and a more detailed version of Blue slides in from the left.

“Oh, hi, Blue.” The text box says. Kaushan’s name appears under him over the text box. “How was your winter vacation?”

Oh, that’s right! Giftmas had just passed. They had spent the entire day with their brother and a ton of friends! They had planned to come out as non-binary to everyone that morning when they were opening gifts, by giving their brother a gift that had confetti and stuff in it, but they got too nervous, and…

Well, the gift is still sitting under their bed.

They look at their options to respond.

“> I didn’t really do anything exciting. > I went on vacation to a cooler place. > I spent it with my family.”

They select the last option. “I spent it at home with my family.” They whisper the words on the screen out loud, to better feel immersed in the game.

“> It was great! > It was nice, but something happened. > It wasn’t the best.”

“It was nice, but something happened,” Blue whispers.

“Oh no, what happened?” the digital skeleton asked.

“> I wasn’t able to tell them something. > It just wasn’t too great. > There was an incident.”

“I… wasn’t able to tell them something,” they whisper, reciting the words on the screen, before deviating from them. “I really wanted to tell them all, especially Paps, that I’m non-binary, but I just wasn’t able to do it.”

They wonder why the game had such an accurate answer for what they wanted to tell Kaushan. Sure, they had saved the game right after the winter midyears, but these text prompts were way too close to reality.

“Oh, I see.” Kaushan’s sprite changes to a smiling pose. “I hope that, even if it’s far in the future, you’re able to say what you want to say.”

“Thank you, Kaushan,” Blue whispers, going off of the game’s text once again. “I wish I could tell them. I want to tell them so bad! But even if I plan everything, down to each and every reaction, I just can’t do it!”

A knock comes from the door of Blue’s room, causing them to jump a little.

“Hey, bro?” Papyrus’ voice calls. Blue cringes slightly at their brother misgendering them, even though they haven’t come out to him yet. “We’re having ice cream downstairs. You want some?”

Quickly, they save the game and shut their computer, then pop their head out of the bottom of their blanket to look at their brother. Still, they speak in a whispered voice. “Do I have to go downstairs?”

Papyrus chuckles. “I thought your social battery was empty. Brought some up for you. Mind if I sit in here? You don't gotta talk if you don't wanna.”

Blue ponders for a moment, a speculating look crossing their face. After a moment, they nod, crawl out of the bottom of their bed awkwardly, and stand up to face their brother. Papyrus offers a bowl of ice cream and Blue takes it. Together, the two sit on Blue's bed.

The two eat their ice cream silently, the only sounds in the room coming from the talking downstairs and the slight clinking of their spoons against the porcelain bowls.

“Hey, Paps?” Blue starts, still whispering. “I uh, um…”

“What’s up, Sans?” Papyrus responds.

There it is again. That name that they are so deeply connected to. The name that they were given when they were born, the name that’s on all their papers, and the name that they grew up with.

But still, even through all that, the name that they have grown away from and feel disgusted by. Small tears start to well up in Blue’s eye sockets.

“Hey, hey, bro, it’s okay, take your time.” Papyrus desperately attempts to comfort his sibling. He takes Blue into an embrace, where Blue is attempting to stop their tears.

Slowly, Blue’s sobbing stops, but the tears don’t stop flowing from their eye sockets. “I uh… I’m sorry.” Their words are barely even a whisper yet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for not being able to tell you is what Blue wants to say, but the words never properly come out.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I…” They gulp, swallowing nothing but nerves. “I… I want to be called Blue.”

“I… could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you.” Papyrus leans a little closer to his closeted sibling.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even tried.” Blue panics to say something else, change the topic, c’mon, they can do something. “T-the ice cream’s good!” They say a little too loud, flinching at the volume of their own voice.

Papyrus looks at them, a small frown crossing his face. “Yeah, it is.”

Silence takes over between the two again, the warm air from the heater drying the last of Blue’s tears. When they’ve finished their ice cream, Papyrus takes the bowl from them and goes to leave the room.

“You know, I really care about you,” Papyrus says. “If you ever want to talk about anything, you can talk to me.” He pauses with a sigh. “We could get you a therapist, if you want.”

Blue stays silent, but shakes their head slightly.

“Just… think about it, ‘kay?” Papyrus starts to pull the door closed. “G’night, bro.”

The door clicks shut, and Blue collapses onto their pillow, letting the blanket fall on top of them, and moving their laptop to their bedside table. All they want to do is tell their brother. They could’ve done it right then and there. It’s all they want to do…

#ao3 #archive of our own #undertale #underswap #fanfic #if you saw me post this to the wrong blog no you didnt

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starlightspun-archive · 2 years

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Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to talk about my muses’ color schemes.

Aleksei - White, purple, and brown

I’ll admit, Aleksei’s color scheme is pretty arbitrary. His eyes are brown and his hair is white because I wanted him to look like Alina, and the purple came after because I just thought it suits him.

Annabelle - Yellow, white, and blue

I wanted Annabelle to look harmless and innocent, so I went for a doll-like appearance. And when I think of a doll, I usually think of blonde hair and blue eyes. And, besides, blue and yellow go very well together!

Aspen - Blue and yellow

I wasn’t thinking about how Aspen’s color scheme would look at the time I made it. I drew it for a drawing challenge - Draw a fairy. Make its skin your favorite color (Blue) and its wings the color of your birth season (Yellow for Summer).

There were other tenets for the challenge, but I just listed the relevant ones

Dyanna - Black, brown, and green

Remember this picture? Well, I saw it (Back in January, and popped it into the queue and it only came out in April) and thought that the green dress was so pretty on the girl, so I decided that Dyanna’s color would be green. Also, as I type this, I’m now realizing that the green gives her a sort of forest-y color scheme - Her black hair is the color of the shadows between the trees, her eyes and skin the color of the wood, and her clothes are the leaves. And I feel that, for gentle, practical Dyanna, a forest is a perfect metaphor.

Ekaterina and Dmitri - Red, black, and white

I came up with Katia’s color scheme first, and I’ve been scrambling to figure out Dmitri’s ever since. Then I made that first picture of them hugging, and noticed that they had the same color scheme! Red, black, and white. These two come as a set, and I realized that I should have their color scheme reflect that, so those are their official colors now.

Elias - Black white, and red every once in a while as a treat

Black to represent his shadows, white because it compliments the black of his hair and eyes, and red was tacked on after because it’s a lucky color in Asian culture.

Little ghost - Monochrome, a little bit of blue

Ghost has been dead so long that much of its humanity has eroded away, and I wanted its design to reflect that as much as possible - And I thought that just getting rid of its mouth wasn’t really enough. So I desaturated it completely, and then realized how boring that looked. So I decided to give it big, bright eyes. But what color? Brown? Ehh... If brown is too bright, it’ll turn orange. Green? Nah, acid green isn’t very easy on the eyes.

And then I tried blue and JACKPOT. Bright, vibrant blue, so long as it’s not too pale a shade, isn’t eye-burning, and blue goes very nicely with white, grey (Ghost’s other colors), and black (Background).

Penelope - Black, white, and orange

She’s Asian. Koi fish are pretty. ‘Nuff said.

I dunno how her green/blue bodice fits into the equation, though

Shani and Livna - Red and blue, and white

...

For most of my other characters, I made the color scheme to fit them. Not these two, though. I made them to fit the color scheme.

Valeriya - Pale. That’s it. Pale

An early version of the No Place Like Home verse was the first incarnation of the Sobakin family, so Pakhta came before Valeriya. In Before the Full Moons Rise, I had no reason for the Sobakin family to have a dog, and I also needed the kids to have a guide through the world of the fairies, without that guide giving everything away too early on... So I took Pakhta and gave her that role.

But a dog (Or a wolf, which is what I changed her into because Rule of Cool) is too stupid to be fantasy-story guide, so I turned that wolf into a girl who had been turned into a wolf, and because Pakhta is all white, I had to have Valeriya, her human equivalent, reflect that.

#🪔 Dreaming of lilies and blueberries (Aleksei)#🌲 Deathless and Deceitful (Aspen)#🌠 Her Heart and Hopes as Vast as the Sky (Dyanna)#🪆 The loveliest rose of Summer (Ekaterina)#🐦 Winter's little red bird (Dmitri)#👻 The years that pass will never make it grow (Little ghost)#🌒 The Shadow Weaver (Elias)#🧜🏻‍♀️ A song of the sea; as enchanting as can be (Penelope)#🌹 Rose Red (Shani)#💎 Snow White (Livna)#👯‍♀️ Peppermint Twins (Shani and Livna)#🌟 Starlight; star bright (Valeriya)#🐺 Puppy Pakhta

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queenoftheantz · 2 years

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New year, new @podcastbigbang ! This year I had the HONOR, the PLEASURE of drawing for @pro-daydreamer ‘s Oliver/Mark fake dating fic “gonna do my very best and it aint no lie”. Guys, for real, I forgot this wasn’t the canon new season while I read it, it’s that well written, in character and engaging. I caught myself wondering when the next episode would be out.... unfortunately its not canon but I cant wait for the coming chapters!! It’s gonna be good!

Now, Image ID’s! Brace yourselves folks!

[ID: A circular digital piece of Oliver and Mark from the Bright Sessions, drawn in shades of blue-green with a dark orange background. Oliver is depicted as a thin man with glasses, short dark hair and brown skin, Mark is depicted as an East Asian man with pale skin and dark hair pulled into a ponytail. They are both in their socks, and are wearing t-shirts and casual pants. The two are sitting at a kitchen table, and Mark's chair has a dirty towel on the back. Oliver is smiling and leaning forwards in his chair, with his elbows propped up on the table and his hands clutched together. Mark is leaning towards Oliver with one arm on the table and one hand clutching his heart, a shocked and flustered expression on his face. The image is against a black background, and serif text in capitals at the bottom reads, "Would you pretend to be in a relationship with me?" /End ID]

[ID: A warm and yellow-toned circular digital piece centered on Oliver from the show the Bright Sessions, depicted as a thin man with brown skin and short black hair. He is sitting on a couch, making a declaration with his arms close to his sides, and his family is clustered around him in a faded out tone, all with delighted, shocked expressions. Behind him is Katja, a white woman with pale skin and a pixie cut, holding a sleeping baby with brown skin in her arms. To the left of Oliver on the couch is Amelia, a woman with dark brown hair tucked into a braid and brown skin. She has one hand hovering over her mouth in surprise. In the foreground is Oliver's mother, who has brown skin and short white hair and is knitting with her back to the viewer in an armchair. To Oliver's right are Chris, an young man with brown skin and short black hair sitting in another armchair, and Lena, a young woman with light brown skin and short bleached blonde hair standing behind Chris. All the characters are wearing jeans, with Katja and Lena wearing T-shirts, Chris wearing a hoodie, Oliver wearing a polo, and Oliver's mom and Amelia wearing sweaters. The piece is against a black background, and serif text in capitals at the ends reads, "I...yes." /End ID]

[ID: A circular digital piece in shades of purple and blue of Mags and Mark from the show the Bright Sessions, sitting next to each other on a couch. Mags is depicted as a Black woman with a dark Afro pulled into a ponytail and dark brown skin, and Mark is depicted as an East Asian man with dark shoulder length hair. Mags is facing towards Mark with a concerned expression on her face, and is speaking with one hand reaching out towards him, while Mark has his head in his hands and is staring down at the floor, overwhelmed. Mags is wearing evil eye earrings, many rings, a flannel over a tank top, jeans, and sneakers, while Mark is wearing a T-shirt, sweatpants, and socks. The space surrounding the image is black, and serif text in capitals at the bottom reads, "I'm going to treat all of the files as compromised." /End ID]

[ID: A circular digital piece, depicting Oliver and Mark from the Bright Sessions in the foreground in shades of green and various members of Oliver's family in the background in shades of yellow. In the front of the group are Amelia and Lena. The family has a wide range of happy expressions, ranging from pleased to excited. Oliver is depicted as a thin man with brown skin and short dark hair, and is standing in the foreground with Mark, who is depicted as an East Asian man with pale skin and dark hair pulled into a ponytail. They both have their backs to the viewer, and Oliver's hand is on Mark's back, while Mark has one hand at his neck. Both are dressed somewhat formally, with Oliver in a polo and Mark in a sweater. The space surrounding the image is black, and at the bottom is serif text in all capitals that reads, "In the car, they'd agreed to holding hands, but this?" /End ID]

[ID: A digital piece of Mark and Oliver from the show the Bright Sessions, depicted in various shades of green, as well as Oliver's family, depicted in shades of yellow. Mark is depicted as an East Asian man with pale skin and dark hair in a low ponytail, and is kissing Oliver with a hand at the back of his head, who is depicted as a thin man with brown skin, glasses, and short dark hair. Both of them are in formal clothes, with Mark in a sweater and Oliver in a polo. Oliver looks slightly surprised, while Mark has his eyes closed. They are surrounded by bushes, and Oliver's family is looking on through a window. Katja, depicted as a White woman with pale skin and blonde hair, and Amelia, depicted as a thin woman with brown skin and long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, both look delighted, and Katja has her hands in front of her mouth surprised, while Amelia has her hands on Katja's shoulder. The image is against a black background, and white serif text in all capitals reads, "Make it convincing, Byron" at the bottom. /End ID]

#bright sessions #podcast big bang 2022 #mark bryant #oliver ritz #for real guys this fic is AMAZING #cannot hype this enough #bright sessions podcast #art

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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞

this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!

— 3.7k words

“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?

You're getting married.

No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.

But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.

Ding ding ding!

"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."

You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."

Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.

"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.

"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.

"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.

"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"

You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"

The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.

*selene — the greek goddess of the moon

The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.

For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.

You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.

Bitch.

It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.

Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.

"He loves me."

He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?

There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.

The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.

The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.

"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"

You frown. "What?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."

Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."

Oh.

"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"

"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.

Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne—straightened him out real quick.”

"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"

"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.

"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."

You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.

“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”

You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“

"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"

"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."

Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"You don't love that asshole."

Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.

"I love him, Katsuki."

"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.

“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”

“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”

You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.

“Why are you here?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”

“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.

“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”

“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“You know what I mean.”

You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.

“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.

“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”

It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“

“This doesn’t have to do wit—“

“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”

“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"

Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"And neither can I.”

You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.

“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.

“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”

Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”

“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.

“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.

The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.

“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.

“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”

You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”

You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.

“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.

“I sai—“

“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”

You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.

“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."

You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.

"K-Kats—"

"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.

You hate that you don't.

"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."

Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.

You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"

You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.

"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."

You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.

Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.

"Run away with me."

"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"

"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"

"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"

"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"

"Katsuki."

"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"

"You really want to know what I want?"

Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.

"Love her."

Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.

"I can't."

You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"

"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.

"Almost, then? For me."

Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.

"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."

You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."

A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."

"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.

"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."

Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.

"I love you too, Asshole."

He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.

"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."

"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.

"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."

Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"

"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."

"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.

You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.

It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.

Asshole.

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut

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thecousinsdangereux · 3 years

Text

the land of race car ya yas

A short little ficlet for @corvophobia who has drawn a bunch of art for the bees racer au of my dreams. This is ALL based on her drawings, so make sure you check out her stuff. Happy birthday, Amber! You are one of my two favorite British children. <3

(Please note that I know nothing about street racing. I've only watched the Fast and the Furious movies. Forgive me....)

“How’d you do that?”

Blake’s used to the question or some version of it, and maybe that’s why she takes in the words before she notices the tone, imagines a scowl (a lowered brow, hands curled into fists, the flash of teeth as the scowl turns into a snarl) with the same instinct that has her shoulders tensing. It’s only mid-turn that she realizes the question is laced with wonder rather than anger, but even this awareness doesn’t prepare her for the sight that meets her. It’s a woman, her smile wide and unrestrained by pesky things like self-consciousness or insecurity, and her eyes are nearly glowing in the low light, purple and bright and full of open admiration. Her black leather jacket, classic in cut, has the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm, revealing a prosthetic of black and yellow, and her grey jeans are tight, showing off a body that Blake has to work to avoid following the curves of. Her hair is long, blonde, curling around her shoulders and down her back, artful in its disorder, down to the single, stubborn cowlick at the top of her head.

In short, she’s beautiful, and Blake stares for longer than she should, feeling heat in her veins.

“Do what?”

She manages a response, but it’s absent minded. She’s just noticed the light dusting of pink on the woman’s cheeks, coloring the spaces in between her freckles, and it has her re-evaluating, pulling her thoughts to the effort she’s put into her own outfit that evening: a cropped and sleeveless hoodie with blocked colors of white and purple, tight leather shorts, and clunky boots that hit just under the knee. Blake looks good and this woman knows it, which makes them even on this particular front, and that's a settling sort of feeling.

“Win,” the woman says simply, her smile growing. “And don’t just say NOS.”

“NOS,” Blake drawls, just because she can, and she’s rewarded by the woman’s laugh, rewarded even more when she steps closer.

“No, but what’s your delivery method? Direct port, obviously, but you had to have used a custom kit, right? I’ve been telling you, Yang, I need to recalibrate yours. Can I look at your car? Would you mind if I just took a tiny peak just to see what you’ve done with your injection site? We really need to upgrade, Yang. A nozzle with less back pressure will give you a better squeeze. I’ve been telling you!”

She hadn’t noticed the other woman, but blinks at her now, a red blur waving her arms about, hoping from one foot to the other, firing out words faster than Blake — an aficionado of all things fast — can keep up with. The woman (Yang?) seems to find the act familiar and reacts with affection tinged with a false exasperation (put upon for Blake’s benefit or maybe as a means of gentle chiding), sighing and placing a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder.

“And I’ve been telling you, you can’t just ask people to look at their shit!” She turns to Blake now, and this time her eye roll is definitely for Blake. “Sorry about that, I swear we’re not trying to steal any of your trade secrets. Ruby just… really likes cars.”

“It’s so pretty too,” Ruby coos, batting away Yang’s hand and taking a step towards the vehicle Blake had used to push past Yang at the last moment, a fact neither of these women seem to hold against her. “The purple stripes. But I bet the engine is prettier.”

It’s unprecedented, really. Blake’s been on the scene for a while — longer than she would admit to anyone here — first as a tagalong and now as a driver, but she’s never had an encounter quite like this. The unexpectedness of it all has her feeling off-balance, has her reacting without any of her customary cool anger as Ruby stares at her hood (as though if she focuses hard enough, she’ll be able to see through the metal to the parts underneath). Maybe that’s why Blake responds in a way that’s decidedly unwise, without any further thought at all.

“You can take a look. I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Ruby squeals, but doesn’t wait for Blake to confirm, darting around her and flipping open the hood in the span of three seconds.

“Really?” Yang asks, and the word sounds wildly different coming from her, sliding out from behind her crooked lips like thanks or maybe a challenge (or maybe both). “Not worried about my mechanic figuring you out before the next race?”

Blake should be, of course. But.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Maybe not the smartest move.” Yang crosses her arms; the chrome of her right glints under one of the flickering street lights. For the first time, she looks away from Blake’s gaze, eyes darting over to check on Ruby (who’s leaning so far into the front of Blake’s car that her feet nearly lift off the ground) and then to another group of drivers, a good distance behind them, but clearly watching in curiosity. It’s never wise to gather after a race, but everyone always does when it goes well, and for the first time, Blake’s glad for it. “She’s pretty vicious about giving me an edge. I wish I could say it was familial loyalty, but really, she just wants to make the fastest car in the city.” Yang pauses, tilting her head in thought. “Or country. Or world. Not sure when she’ll be satisfied, to be honest.”

“Sisters?” Blake asks. She can’t really see the resemblance, but then again, she hasn’t spent as much time looking at the younger of the pair, even though she should probably be less focused on the elder (the one not pouring over her engine. Sun and Ilia were going to kill her).

“Yeah.” Yang probably doesn’t realize how much her smile grows in the confirmation, saturated with pride and love. “Scary brilliant too. Give her five minutes with a car and she’ll take it apart, put it back together, and it’ll run better than it ever has. But all that means she always thinks it’s the car that puts a driver ahead.”

Blake arches a brow. “And you think she’s… wrong?”

“Well, yeah.” Yang’s closer than Blake remembers her being, maybe because her legs are long, her strides somehow longer, and it only takes a step before she’s close enough for Blake to feel the heat radiating off her body. “I know it’s only the driver that puts a driver ahead. That’s why I’m here talking to you instead of looking at your car.” Her lips twitch and she amends her statement quickly. “Part of the reason, at least.”

The other part of her reasoning is made pretty obvious when Yang’s eyes trace up Blake’s form once more. It should probably bother Blake, but it doesn’t, maybe because she’s done the same to Yang during this conversation (more than once). Still, there are things better avoided, and Blake knows this better than anyone. She does her best to get back on track.

“It wasn’t me,” she says (almost blurts), and then feels her neck warm when Yang looks at her quizzically. “Before, you asked how I won. But it wasn’t me, not really. You could have had it if you hadn’t fired your nitrous early. You were impatient.”

It’s too blunt, Blake knows this as soon as the words leave her lips. She’s backtracked too much, retreated into aloofness as she was wont to do, but Yang only laughs, and the sound cracks through Blake’s go-to defense, a corner of her lips curling before she can stop it.

“You’re right. I used to be way worse, back when I started out, but I’m a lot better now. Usually.”

“So what happened today?” It’s the question Yang wants her to ask, of this Blake is sure, but it hardly feels like a chore.

“Ah, bad luck, I guess. I took one look at the driver next to me and all that impatience came rushing back. All I wanted to do was finish the race and meet her properly.” She winks. Combined with the cheesy line, it shouldn’t work as well as it does (but it does). “I’m Yang.”

“Blake.”

They don’t shake hands, and Blake’s glad for it. There’s something buzzing between them, a tingling sensation at the tips of her fingers, the build up right before a lightning strike, and Blake’s not entirely sure what the contact — however brief and friendly — might do to her.

“Next time, maybe I’ll be a little more prepared.” Yang’s eyes roam across her face, settling once more on gold. “But probably not.”

“Immersion therapy,” Blake quips. “Give it time.”

Yang whistles sharply, and it takes Blake a moment to realize that she’s called her sister back over. (Blake had forgotten about her entirely, though the grease on her hands and face leads her to believe that Ruby had done a thorough dive under her hood, the sort Blake ought to be worried about.)

“Time is exactly what I plan on giving it. A lot of time, if you’ll let me.” Yang nudges her sister back in the direction they’d come from. Ruby waves, offers a wide grin of thanks, but Blake’s stuck on purple.

“Well. Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she murmurs.

“Looking forward to it.”

And Blake, who started racing to get away, who started racing to run, who started racing so she never had to stay in one place for long, finds that she is too.

—

“What the hell is your problem?”

Blake’s used to this question too, or some form of it, and this time, the tone is exactly what she expects. The small, white-haired woman in a vest and tie, however, is not.

“Listen, I’m sorry I hurt your boyfriend’s feelings by being a better driver than him, but you’re only embarrassing yourself now.” Blake takes another look at the woman’s attire; her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and — despite the country club hairstyle and the heels — the hint of a tattoo on her pale skin, just under the fabric makes up Blake’s mind for her. “Or… Girlfriend?”

“Not quite,” says a familiar voice.

Today, Yang has decided to show off her abs (and she most certainly does have abs) with a cropped jacket of black and gold checks, and Blake can’t quite bring herself to look beyond that for too long, though she catches the black driving gloves, the oversized and gold sunglasses, the oversized cargo pants. In the seconds it takes for Blake to wind her brain back up, Yang grins, cocksure, and continues.

“Though you were right about the gay thing. I mean, look at her.”

“Look at you,” the other woman sniffs, actually physically turning up her nose. “Could you be any gayer?”

“Yeah, I could be wearing a vest and tie,” Yang fires back, but it’s clear the banter is familiar, it’s obvious these two know each other well enough for their back and forth to not contain any real barbs.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Blake drawls, before she’s able to stop herself, and Yang turns back to her with an arched brow. “Good to see you again, Yang.”

“Oh, is it? Could have fooled me!” The other woman’s ire has been refocused, and it’s seemingly stronger than before, the pitch of her words higher, more dire. “Given you nearly killed her just now.”

“Weiss,” Yang sighs, but Blake winces, feeling the sting of the words despite Yang’s quick glance of reassurance sent her way.

“I didn’t realize you’d pull off when I drifted. I thought you’d… lean in.”

It’s not an excuse. They’d been neck and neck towards the end of the race (again), and when she’d nudged the side of Yang’s car — far gentler than she would against anyone else — she’d assumed the woman would give as good as she got, like most every other racer she’d gone against. But Yang hadn’t taken any chances, and it’d cost her the race.

“We don’t do that here,” the woman — Weiss — says, lips pursed to the point of contortion, but Yang only laughs.

“We do that here all the time. I did way worse to Mercury last week.”

“Yes, but Mercury is a creep.” Weiss pauses, considering. “We only do that to creeps here.”

Blake’s hands lift, a show of peace. “Hey, no one handed me the Beacon Street Racing Etiquette Guide when I joined up the other week. Maybe you could loan me your copy.”

This doesn’t exactly smooth things over with the woman, especially not when Yang snickers, but Weiss can clearly see the writing on the wall, and tosses her hair over her shoulder with a huff.

“Whatever. I’m telling Ruby about this,” she warns Yang (or maybe Blake, or maybe both of them), before stalking away, her last words called over her shoulder. “She’s not going to be happy.”

There’s no concern on Yang’s face as she watches her go, if anything she looks amused. “Sorry about that. She’s… protective.”

“I can see that. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been friends with someone for a while.” It’s a guess (and a probe), but Yang doesn’t correct any of her phrasing, so it must be close enough to the truth.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean protective of me.” Yang’s grin shows a flash of white teeth. “Weiss bet on me tonight. You lost her money. And that’s the real sin.”

Blake’s surprised at how easily her laugh comes (more surprised how easily the fondness slips through the cracks in her chest). “Oh, I see. So I can kick your ass up and down the streets as long as I convince her to bet on me in the future? Good to know.”

“I’m not sure that’s the message I want you to be taking from this,” Yang drawls, but still smiles, flicking her glasses up to her forehead. “Besides, like she said, Ruby’s the one to look out for. She seemed all sweet and innocent yesterday, but gods help the person she turns her disapproving stare on. I’ve seen people break into tears on the spot.”

From what Blake had seen yesterday, Ruby isn’t the sort that loses her chipper bounce very easily, so despite Yang’s teasing tone, she files the information away as useful. If she were being a little more self-searching, she might question the action, given her tendency to not stick around in any one place for long. (Surely Beacon isn’t any different. Surely she couldn’t know now if it were.)

“Lucky she missed the race today, then.” Her lips curve, a sharp corner that would require a drift. “What, she couldn’t bear to see you lose again?”

“Oh, ha ha. No, she had class. And she knows there’s no skipping for racing; that’s the only hard and fast rule for our household.” It’s not what she expects, the straight answer backed with genuinity, but it strikes Blake as endearing, somehow, especially when Yang continues. “I started racing here so we could pay for those classes, so I think it’s only fair.”

“That’s — ” Kind. Authentic. Surprising. Blake’s not sure which word to use so she disgards them all. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type who was racing for the money. Not that… there’s anything wrong with that. Especially in your case.”

Yang laughs. “Hey, don’t mistake me. I started racing here for the money, but it’s not why I race in general.”

“So why do you?” Blake asks, even though she suspects she knows the answer. (It’s not wise to take your eyes off the road, but she’s done it in both of her races with Yang, eyes darting to the side to find the woman speeding alongside her: eyes wild, grin wide, the fervor of the moment all over her face. There’s freedom there, more than there is anywhere else, and Blake thinks she sees that in Yang as much as she does in herself.)

“Same as you, I think,” Yang murmurs, closer now, sliding in when Blake’s distracted once again.

“I’m not sure you know me well enough to say that.”

A bluff, of course, but it gets the intended result.

“Not yet.” From this close, Yang looks taller, and Blake has to tilt her chin to look into her eyes. “But I’m still looking to fix that.”

Blake wets her lips. It’s too much, and she’s not sure she can tack on ‘too soon’ to quantify the thought, make it less tame. If she had to guess, Yang will always be too much, like sunlight after coming out of a room. Blake’s not sure she’ll ever adjust to the rays, or if she wants to.

“Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she says again, and Yang laughs again, totally unabashed.

“Okay, I’m sensing a trend here. What, you’re not going to let me take you out unless I win a race again you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, what are you going to do?”

It’s not cockiness that overtakes Yang’s face then, not exactly. It’s confidence or want or determination or maybe just the flush that comes from the thrill of a challenge. Blake’s setting herself up for something here, she knows, failure or disappointment or something like it, but right then, she doesn’t care. There’s a freedom in this sort of race too, and that she’s come to love.

“Oh, that’s easy, Blake.” Yang leans in a little more, and Blake knows it’s audible, the way her breath is cut short. “I’m going to win.”

#bumbleby #writing #rwby #bees racer au #for #corvophobia #<33333 #just a little something for a birthday treat

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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

They Forgot Everything The Minute They Were Together

Requested: yesss

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: war, death, animal death, briefly mentioned moment of intimacy (not overtly crude), children, marriage

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Y/n L/n were arranged to be married, this is their story of growing into love while a war looms over everyone’s heads.

Word Count: 3996

✧✧✧

The weather was a biting cold, the kind of cold that makes the tip of your nose numb and your eyes water. Snow was anticipated all over the grounds, the bitter cold mirroring the somber mood of the pale blonde boy inside. Draco Malfoy was sixteen, and his life already seemed to be planned out for him. It wouldn't have bothered him, not really, to be arranged to marry a girl of high society. Someone wealthy, and snobby, and incredibly cold. Someone who deserved to have the luxury of free will ripped away with a firm hand. But he was arranged to marry you, Y/n L/n. He loved you, he was sure of it, it was the only thing he was ever really sure of. You’ve been there for him for as long as he could remember. You grew together, and you were kind, and sweet, and you were everything soft and gentle while Draco was cold, and sharp, and nothing like you. He had jagged edges and loose wires, Draco was everything that you weren’t and it was in the search of your warmth to soothe his frostbite that he fell in love with the smell of your shampoo and the crinkle of your nose. And now as he stood looking over the railing of the astronomy tower, he wished he didn’t love you, not after what he's going to do.

The time neared for their arrival and the boyish innocence that remained somewhere in him was slowly dwindling with the job he was given, but he thought of you to calm his nerves. Draco was lucky, he was well aware of how rarely arranged marriages are between two people already in love. The wedding had been planned since his birth, neither you nor him old enough to understand the meaning of what your mothers whispered about. It was a vague memory, both of you aged six, when the bond became more official. Lucius Mlafoy and your father, Y/F/N, made the arrangement a promise, a vow. Narcissa was the one to bind the unbreakable vow between the two men, and a younger you placed bright purple heliotrope flowers delicately into the almost transparent blonde hair of Draco’s.

Since then the two have been inseparable, whether they liked it or not. They had started as innocent friends, a young girl and boy who often spent summers, Christmases, and birthdays together, always joined at the hip. This continued until their second year of Hogwarts, both of you entering a rebellious phase that didn’t end until the end of fourth. Draco would sneer at you and you’d send it right back to him, he hated the arrangement then, he hated that he’d have no choice, and most of all he hated that he was starting on to hate it at all. You felt similarly, he was rude, and arrogant. You didn’t like the way he treated people and you hated how when he focused on something, face relaxing into a look of wonder and gentility, you felt the incredible need to smother him with love.

It was the end of fourth year, Cedric was dead, Voldemort was back, and Draco and you found comfort in each other. For the first time in three years, you and Draco were friends again. Your relationship hadn’t developed yet, instead always teetering on the edge of friendship just waiting to be pushed over. That push came during the summer after your fifth year.

Draco and you were set to get the Dark Marks. Pledge your loyalty to a man who both of you were brainwashed to believe was meant to be a leader. You, ashamed of it now, were quiet about your disagreement with the Dark Lord's ways but Draco had told you to keep quiet, to keep it to yourself. It seemed Draco matured far faster than you during this time, every flinch and the plethora of bruises forced the snarky little boy to grow into a looming man. One whose eyes were swimming with despair and pain, and whose cries kept you awake during the nights you spent at Malfoy Manor.

“Don’t say that! Don’t you ever say that about him!” Draco bellowed

You felt yourself shake with rage at the way he acted so spineless, “You can’t tell me you agree with what he’s doing.”

He took a breath, his shoulders coming down and his face relaxing into a look of eerie stoicism, “Don’t speak of the Dark Lord like that, he is far more powerful than you and me combined. We weren’t made to be heroes, so don’t waste your energy.”

Your eyes followed Draco as he left the room, the ceremony was starting soon.

The room was dark, curtains drawn, fire extinguished, the only light coming from the dim flicker of the overhead chandelier. Two families stood in a circle, the L/ns and the Malfoys, along with others such as Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, and Severus Snape amongst other unrecognized faces. In the middle stood you and Draco, waiting for the arrival of the Dark Lord. It was with a spine chilling whoosh that he appeared, Nagini and Wormtail in tow.

“Ah, Draco...Y/n. My youngest.” His voice was light, the happiness seeping through each word.

Your heads were kept down, neither of you being able to meet the snake like man’s eyes just yet. The air seemed to thicken with discomfort when you felt a hand wrap around her, pushing your face into the chest of Lord Voldemort. His robes smelled of mildew and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on, and they felt just slightly damp and cold much like his skin. You tried not to gag as the smell of decaying skin assaulted your senses, eyes watering as you prayed to Merlin you’d be freed. Draco also seemed impatient for him to let go of you, he worried you were going to burst, do something to get yourself killed. He took a welcome breath of the mildew smell, relishing in the fact that you were still there, silent and obedient.

“Wormtail, the sacrifice.” The command was drawled out, lips stretching to a smile.

Wormtail drew his wand and muttered a few words, none detectable by you or Draco. He thrust his wand one final time toward the floor in front of you, making a white dove appear along with a white rabbit.

“The rabbit is yours, Y/n. Remember, you must use all three curses.” Voldemort instructed.

You stepped forward, eyes falling onto the snow white bunny. Its red eyes looked back at you, its nose twitching ignorantly.

Stupid bunny, you thought. It won’t even try to run.

It was ironic really, you'd only realize this years later.

The shake in your hand was masked impressively, your wand pointing straight at the white rabbit. You took a breath before muttering the first curse, Imperio, and the bunny moved at your will.

Next, Crucio, and the rabbit flopped and squealed in pain as you waited for your Lord to tell you it was sufficient. The rabbit started to twitch as it fell to the floor, the painful sounds of a prey animal suffering filled the room for what felt like hours until Voldemort called for it to stop.

“Next one, my girl. Go on.” He coaxed you, his tone far too excited.

With a final look at the animal still withering in pain, you found this curse was the easiest to do out of the rest as it would put the suffering bunny out of its misery.

“Avada Kedavra.” Your words were firm but nothing happened.

“As suspected, though it was quite impressive you were able to use the Cruciatus curse.” Voldemort smiled at you before he gave Nagini the ok to eat the suffering animal.

Whilst the snake took advantage of the opportunity, Voldemort continued, “Bella, if you will.”

Bellatrix hoped to your side, wand waving excitedly as she grabbed your wrist roughly.

“Good work you did there, girl. Marrying my nephew, you two’d make a strong alliance for the Dark Lord.” She cackled, pointing her wand to the inside of your left forearm.

She muttered the words for a spell you’ve never heard and the pain was almost instantaneous. White hot, searing pain that made you gasp and instinctively move your right hand to try and push Bellatrix’s wand away. She was quicker than you, her free hand shooting out to grab a chunk of your hair, pulling your head back, her face getting closer to yours making you feel her breath on your cheek.

“Feel the pain. Own it! You do it for the Dark Lord.” She smiled, her teeth yellow and cracked on display.

The mark was finished and Bellatrix let go of you roughly, a sharp cackle coming from her mouth as she pranced back to her spot. Your eyes connected to Draco’s, his holding a look of worry intermingled with horror, but he refused to let them wander down to the mark.

“Draco, my boy. You next. And I’ll be the one to gift you my mark.”

Draco remembers that night, although tinted with horror, with a smile adorned on his face. You had been quiet the entire dinner, and as everyone left you were silent in the retreat to a spare room. This was odd, seeing as Lucius always insisted that you two share a room when together ever since youth. Both of you have grown accustomed to sharing his room when you visit and him making himself comfortable in your own room when he makes the trip to yours. With a destined marriage, it seemed that your parents wanted to push you two impossibly close. This is why Draco was a bit frantic when he opened his doors to see a completely empty room. He ran through the manor, his parents already in bed, their room equipped with a silencing charm in order to keep out the bustling of house elves and visiting death eaters seeing as the manor was the meeting place for most things. So Draco wasn’t worried about his heavy footsteps waking his parents, nor his calls for you.

He found you in the back acres of the house near the little purple flowers, they were your favorite.

“They tried to take them out over winter holiday, had to fight tooth and nail for them to keep it in.” Draco said, a soft smile coming to his lips when you looked at him.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, calculated, and Draco hated it.

He moved to sit down next to you, his arm pulling you down with him as he put his back to the grass. Both of you looked up at the stars, wondering how they were still shining so bright when everything inside of you felt like it was dimming steadily.

Draco slowly slid his hand into yours, his cheeks blossoming in a heated tingle as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He focused on the sky again, his hand coming up to point at a cluster of stars.

“That’s the constellation, Leo. Has the star, Regulus.”

You recognized the name but kept quiet hoping he’d continue.

“That one- can you see it? Just there?- is Cassiopeia. Then there’s Cepheus, her husband an-”

“I hope we are to become stars when we die.” The words slipped past your lips almost unknowingly to you.

Draco looked at you, eyes searching yours to understand how you were feeling, but he only found the sparkles of wonder.

“You’re a bit late to the party.” He laughed as you gave him a knowing look.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He admitted quietly, turning to look back at the stars.

Your voice greeted him again, “Where’s Draco?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m with you right now.” He answered back, a small smile playing at his lips as your hand came out to shove his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. It’s just there- no you’re looking in the wrong area- next to the Big Dipper.” He said, pointing in the direction of the constellation.

You propped yourself up on your forearm, looking at Draco who was still flat on the ground.

“How do you know all this?”

He shrugged, fingers going to play with your own absentmindedly, “Mum would bring me out here when I was little and had a bad dream. She’d point out the constellations and stars, our family, she’d call them, until I fell asleep.”

Draco spoke calmly but his voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes unmoving from the sky above him as he longed for a simpler time, for a time he could run to his mother when he had a nightmare instead of having to self soothe.

You noticed the way he seemed to get lost somewhere, and you knew it’d be best if you didn’t pry. Draco was never good with prying and you understood he was vulnerable now.

“I’m quite lucky to be marrying you, Y/n.”

The smile you gave him was gentle, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be marrying someone I love.”

The confession had you giddy, unable to form the right words because just an ‘i love you too’ would not satisfy the magnitude of how deeply you loved this boy. Deciding to show him instead of tell him, you were quick to lean down to his lips.

Draco moved fast, his hand not wasting any time to grab hold of your jaw and draw you in closer. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, face now level with yours, though only for a moment as he used his weight to push you to lie on your back. He heard you whimper into the kiss, making electric jolts shoot through his body before he pulled away slowly.

“The stars aligned when you were made to be my wife.” He whispers, his thumb going down to caress the fresh Dark Mark that seemed to not belong on your ethereal body.

Draco felt his lips tug into a smile at the memory but it didn’t help the tremble in his hands. His eyes wandered through the sky trying to find the constellation, his constellation. But he exhaled hopelessly as it seemed the stars had turned their back on him this night.

“Draco, they’re here.” Your voice was rough, and you spoke in breaths as you told him of the success of the vanishing cabinet with the news of the newly arrived Death Eaters.

He gave you a quick nod but his eyes welled with tears, “I suppose it’s too late to throw myself off this tower then.”

“Draco, you don-”

His anger seemed to take over as his face contorted to an expression of frustration, “Don’t- don’t say that. You know what he’d do to my family, to me. You know what he’ll do to you. I have to do this.”

“He’s doing this to punish your father Draco, he knows you can’t do it.”

This only seemed to fuel the fire, you soon realized.

“I can do it! I will do it, for you and for my dad. You can't change my mind.”

You took in a breath, battle already lost as you said, “I know. And I know you’ll hate yourself forever if you were the one to do it.”

“As long as I still have you to love me, the sun will shine again.” His tone turned cold before starting again, “We should go, he’ll be coming back any moment now.”

That was the night you and Draco had a hand in catalyzing the war.

The war was dark, especially for those marked with the remnants of death. You watched on the sidelines, a bystander to evil, and watched your family commit unspeakable acts. And you’d do it all over again if it meant your memory would be cleared of the way Draco slowly crumbled as the war went on, his cheeks sinking in, and eyes losing their shimmer. You’d go through it all if it meant you could forget the way Draco ate away at himself from the inside out.

Draco was running on empty as the Battle of Hogwarts began, the thought of being with you in the end was the only thing really keeping him going. It was the way you’d still curl into his side during the nights you spent in his room, your hand reaching for his underneath the dinner table when the Dark Lord would torture his next victims high in the air, and it was your body that was warm and bare that seemed to make him forget, just for the night, that he was destined to be the villain.

His hands ran down your bare sides, his head buried in your neck as he kept pace with his thrusts. Your moans spurring him on and your fingers that ran through his slightly sweaty hair, starting from the nape of his neck.

As Draco slowly drew out your release, he wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a Death Eater, and he wasn’t fighting on the wrong side of the harrowing war. He was just your lover, grateful for the trust you instilled in him to care for your body as no one else has.

He pressed a kiss to the black swirling of the Dark Mark on your wrist, you had already fallen asleep as he did so. He looked at the mark as a disgrace to the skin he believed to be free of any and all imperfection. Draco hated it.

It was with fear and guilt that you two fought at Hogwarts, not for the cause but for each other. Every spell and every curse was in the name of your lover, and you couldn’t help but pray that it ended soon.

Ended, it did, with Draco and you finally fighting for a better cause. The Dark Lord had just been killed, his body crumbling to ash horrifically, and Draco was quick to grab your hand as he walked somewhere with purpose. He knew what would happen to those with the mark still on the grounds, regardless of who they helped in the end. He couldn’t lose you, not when you had just won.

That was how you had found yourself, hand in hand with Draco, in front of a fairly good sized house in the countryside somewhere. The house was old, not in condition, but in style. It stood tall as Weeping Willows extended delicate tendrils over the area, the exterior was a gentle sage green with white accents and many, many windows.

“It was left to me by my great-grandmother. It’s our home now.” Draco whispered, not wanting to ruin the fragile moments.

The emotions seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, not just from today but the past two years were finally over. Your shoulders shook with your cries and Draco watched nervously, worried you had changed your mind of loving him, and he wouldn’t blame you.

“What’s wrong, Darling?” Draco asked as he pulled you into his chest.

He smelled of ash and dirt, but his familiar scent of expense peeked through carefully. His clothes were tattere, much like yours, and hair messy but when you pulled away to look into his eyes you couldn’t help but think he was the most exquisitely attractive person you had ever seen.

Your hands came up to cup his face, “I love you, Draco. So much.”

He smiled before kissing you gently, then his lips dropped to the inside of your left wrist placing another kiss there before pulling you towards the house. Walking on the white and grey cobble path made in the grass toward the house, you noticed the same little purple flowers that you had accompanied you when you kissed Draco for the first time outside of the manor.

Upon entering the house, you noticed the way it was evident it belonged to a family of wealth. The inside looked freshly cleaned, everything in its place. The interior was beautifully Victorian, it was proud as it basked in the light that pooled in through the large windows.

This was your home.

You and Draco loved your home, you married behind the house in the intricate garden with family and friends, your bouquet adorned generously with Heliotrope flowers. You healed your wounds of foolish childhood and rushed maturing within the walls, and it was in this home where you raised your children.

Arcturus Malfoy, named after a boy with a brave story that mirrored your own, a son whose pale blonde hair and cool blue eyes derived directly from his father, along with his nose but he got his stubbornness and sarcasm from his mother. Asterope, an asteroid that blazed bright without hesitation, the twin sister of Arcturus. Her hair and eyes were just like yours, but her lips were shaped like her father’s and her quiet stealth and calculated thinking was also, just like her fathers.

“Come on, we can’t have the train leaving without you two on it.” You said, holding your son's hand as Draco had your daughter.

Your daughter’s voice piped up, “It’s rather ridiculous this is the only way there.”

“Your dad said the same thing when we were almost late our fifth year.” You smiled at the memory.

Draco laughed at the way Asterope scrunched her nose at the other children making their way to platform 9 ¾. She was far too mature for the ripe age of eleven but he failed to remember himself as just the same way.

“You can just swim, Aster.” Arcturus said with a comically straight face before his lips split into a grin as he looked up at you.

You guys stopped in front of the barrier, fond memories warming your heart as you looked at the bricks.

“What now?”

You looked at Arcturus with a smile then turned to Asterope as you motioned for her to come stand next to her brother.

“You run through it.” Draco informed as he stood next to you, hand snaking around your waist.

“How convenient.”

“That doesn’t seem very safe.”

Both twins responded at the same time making you and Draco laugh. Eventually, Arcturus was the first to run through the barrier with his cart, Asterope following with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know she’s just like you.” You said, making Draco scoff.

“I was so much worse, Darling.”

His answer made you laugh, bringing up your intertwined hands to your lips. Placing a careful kiss to the barely there mark, it had started to fade the moment Voldemort was killed. Draco felt his heart flutter at the action, wondering how he got so lucky.

“Whatdya say? Run through it for good luck?” A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes.

“Of course.”

The otherside of the barrier was just as you remembered it, and the nostalgia made your eyes tear up. The goodbyes were quick, but still incredibly difficult for you and Draco to let go of your kids when they hugged you before boarding. You two waved as Asterope and Arcturus found their ways into the train.

You and Draco turned to leave as your kids settled into their compartments with kids they, presumably, just met. A mixture of blonde, brunette, and raven haired kids sat in one compartment no longer needing the ready hand of a parent.

“Y/n! Wait!” A voice called behind you, and if you had paid a little more attention maybe you would’ve recognised it, but instead you stood a bit frozen with Draco still wondering who it was.

“I still remember what you did.” The voice said again, making you finally turn around.

Your eyes found the culprit and you gulped, worried of what he was going to say.

“I never got to thank you.”

Fred Weasley smiled at you, his hand resting around the shoulders of a young boy with bright red hair and his father’s lopsided grin.

#Draco Malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy imagines

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

Note

just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁

IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry

Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.

Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.

The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.

As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses.

Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.

For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.

Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader.

Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.

Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.

#fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #claude von riegan #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #haha i htae byleths design this was all just to justify my abject disgust for the way she looks #nobody sent me anything about dimitri's dick so this is what i've been reduced to

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greywritesfics · 4 years

Text

One Day At A Time

Overview: The moment you first saw Shinso’s performance at the first year Sports Festival set off a chain of fateful interactions and an unrequited declaration of rivalry. Now, as you stand hand in hand with your husband-to-be, you can’t help but think back to everything that brought you here.

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Word Count: 3741

Genre: Scenario, Fluff

A/N: I had so much fun writing this for the POCuties Server Collab: ‘A Wedding to Remember!’ My heart went binkie boom doom. I hope you all enjoy best boi Shinso!! And thank you to @tui-lah for beta reading, I appreciate it! You can find the rest of everyone’s amazing works here.

The flowers entwined between your fingers twinge with sweat from your palms as the beating of your heart ran a mile a minute. Exhaling a breath, you briefly glanced at the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers before the double doors broke you from your reverie. On either side stood your best friend, Mina, in a beautiful gown that accentuated her figure, and Kaminari, your husband-to-be’s best friend.

Mina beamed, the black sclera of her eyes twinkling as she caught onto the small sigh of contentment that left your lips as you basked in the physique of the love of your life in a tuxedo at the end of the peddle-filled aisle. The light reflected from the vibrant bouquet, which made you look dazzling in the spotlight. Carrying on an otherworldly trance before the two left your side, not before the blonde sent you subtle thumbs up.

Facing your groom, your eyes roamed his figure, giving him a once-over. The tuxedo hugged him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim build. The black of his suit had a velvet quality to it, and brought something out of him, a self-respecting pride and confidence that had you nibbling your bottom lip.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Bond,” you whispered with a cheeky grin. You couldn’t help yourself, Shinso looked like the perfect action man with a license to thrill. His typically messy indigo hair was slicked back, or at least tried to be, you had to give him an ‘A’ for the effort. You peaked at the tips that were haphazardly pushed back, intertwining into a beautiful chaos-- you’d fix it later into his naturally ruffled tufts.

You heard a breathy snort from the man across you. Looking up, your eyes latched onto an all-too-familiar pair of glaciers that resembled hyacinths and the lazy-smirk that had the corner of your eyes softening.

Shinso reaches out to you as soon as the one to wed you both begins to speak, his calloused hands holding yours. It’s funny actually, as you gaze at your intertwined hands and the paleness of his skin of how the two of you ended up in the aisle together, rings readied to be worn, and a life promised to spend together forever.

You remembered it like it was just yesterday.

After his fight with Midoriya during the first year Sports Festival, you left the stands to find the General Studies student in the hall. Luckily for you, you saw him in no time, the striking lavender hair and familiar U.A. uniform that he wore was hard to miss. You quickly fell into step with his languid steps.

“Shinso Hitoshi, right? I’m (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

With his ashy lilac and deeply sunken eyes, he faced you with a bored expression on his face. “Okay.”

The two of you walk in silence for at least a few minutes, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck before he speaks. “Uh--” he clears his throat a little awkwardly, “why are you following me?” It was a simple question, not one that harbored an accusing tone, and you were almost shocked by the fact that he made no effort to chase you away.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, smacking your forehead, having forgotten to announce the reason why you followed him in the first place. “My bad, dude, I can’t believe I forgot. You’re my rival.”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his pace slowing even more until they stopped.

“Rival, y’ know where two people compete for the same objective or superiority.”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “I know what a rival is, but why are you declaring that you’re mine.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You thought that at this point, it was obvious enough for him to catch on. Maybe he was a bit slow; the bags under his eyes may have killed a couple of brain cells over the years. “‘Cause we have the same goal,” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “We want to prove everyone who doubts us wrong.” Mich like him, growing up with an ‘evil’ Quirk, you’ve had a fair share of gossip surrounding you. That’s why you wanted to be a hero, to end the discrimination against labeling Quirks as villainous.

“Really?” he paused, “what would a student from the heroics course know about being deemed as a criminal.” One look into his eyes, and you already knew. The bitterness in his orbs was unmistakable.

“More than you know,” you murmured, refusing to break eye contact.

The mauve haired boy’s uninterested expression softened at the dispute in your eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin. Looking at you properly this time, like he really saw you as a person, not just some random stranger that decided to follow him around.

“Sorry, but no,” Shinso stated, the usual indifference lacing his tone, the smile falling from his face. “I’m not looking to make friends or rivals.”

You giggled mischievously at him, the purple of his eyes side-eyeing you with weariness. “You’re cute,” you state bluntly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. His expression is replaced with a gawk at the pure boldness from you, red splotching on the apple of his cheeks. “You actually think you have a choice! See ya soon, rival!”

With that, you turn on your heel, searching for your homeless-looking homeroom teacher. You have the perfect recommendation for an intern.

“(L/N)?” he demanded, stunned by your sudden appearance.

You turned your head from your position on the floor, stretching, glancing toward his direction. “Hey, rival.” The boy looked slightly different from the last time you had seen him, with a bandage-like material wrapped around his neck, similar to Aizawa’s.

Hopping onto your feet, you brushed the dust off your hands, walking onto the mat placed in the middle of the gym as Aizawa spoke up. “Shinso, you’re training with (L/N) today. It’s a joint training to access your weaknesses, first to get knocked down or pushed off the mat loses,” he said, his expression never changing.

Bending down a bit, you prepared to make a move before the boy with lavender hair stopped you in your footsteps. “How the hell did you get Aizawa-sensei to agree to this?” he asked with an amused look in his eyes.

Smirking, you peered up through your lashes, looking at him with faux innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yes, you do. At the Sports Festival, you told Aizawa about the general studies student, but Aizawa was already aware of the male since he had taken note of him. Unsurprisingly to you, your teacher decided to mentor the student, and it took a lot of bribing and coaxing for you to convince him to join just one training session, but that’s all you needed.

You stiffened immediately, your eyes glazing over as you become immobile, not even able to process or think properly. You watch the white of your rival’s teeth move, and the next thing you know, you blink, conscious, and off the mat. The stoic male wore a bored expression on his face as your eyes widen in realization, he just brainwashed you.

It was as if a match sparked over you as you glared at him. Lunging forward instantly, taking the purple-haired boy by surprise, you brought your leg up to kick him in the shin as he lost balance. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, you pounced, both arms wrapping around his torso as you tackled him, or at least tried to. It seemed that Aizawa had been training his student well because the tackle didn’t do anything besides move him backward. Quickly, you leaped back, creating a space.

The boy’s ruffled hair from his night’s sleep and current fight had strands sticking together, slick with sweat. “What, that’s all you got?” Shinso asked, but you bit back a sharp remark, refusing to take the bait again.

Failing to evade the knee that came straight for your abdomen, the impact knocked you back slightly but lacked to knock you down. You were taken aback by his speed and accuracy, and for a second, you wanted to smile at the growth of the male that stood in front of you, it was like he wasn’t the same boy that had lost to Midoriya.

Focusing on the match at hand, you dodged his next onslaught of attacks, moving efficiently to evade them with the slight knowledge of his fighting style from the Sports Festival. Thanking yourself for forcing all those hours you spent training your physical abilities, you moved forward the moment you noticed Shinso starting to take labored breaths from his never-ending assaults. However, before you could even register what was happening, Shinso loosened the material around his neck, effectively capturing you amid some ridiculously strong bandages. With the help of the capture tape, he swung you around, gathering momentum before releasing you. Before you were thrown off the mat, though, you grabbed the white scarf and pulled yourself safely in bounds.

With record speed, you raced across to meet Shinso, the capture material moving forward to shield its wielder from an attack, but you abruptly shot your arm up, tensing the male’s muscles you pushed it out of your way, continuing your route to the lilac haired male. Using your remaining strength before your sight dotted from vertigo, a drawback to your Quirk, you used both of your arms to grasp onto his, crouching you flip him over.

Falling flat on the mat, you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to regulate the spottiness surrounding you. When you heard shuffling, you peaked an eye open, pointedly-eyeing the hovering male.

“You’ve gotten better,” you commented.

Shinso let out a soft chuckle. “You’re not half bad,” he countered, crossing his arms before adding, “besides when you became a sore loser and just hopped back in here without a word.”

You gave him a non-threatening pointed look, “hey! I forgot about the brainwashing bit for a second there. Can you blame me?”

Scoffing, you took his outreached hand and pulled yourself up with his combined effort.

“I mean for a rival, that was just sad,” mused Shinso, running a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random directions, suiting him.

The corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, a slight stinging sensation from the cut on your lip from the fight somehow, but you didn’t care as your smile widened into a brilliant grin since Shinso finally acknowledged you. “Rival, huh?” you laughed, feeling absolutely delirious.

After Shinso acknowledged you as his rival, you both became training partners and soon enough close friends. Before either of you knew it, you were already in your second year at U.A., and your purple-haired friend had been accepted into the hero course.

You’re not exactly sure when you started developing feelings for the boy. Maybe it was the moment he exposed his perfectly aligned teeth, glowing with happiness and hope. Or it was his innate ability to spark a conversation with anyone, despite having a reserved and calm attitude. Even stating that he had no interest in making friends, yet you swiveled your way in and surrounded him with support, along with Kaminari, the greenette, Midoriya, and even the cerulean blue-eyed Monoma. Or it’s his aspiration to usurp anyone who walked the same path as him to become a Pro. Either way, there was no denying the flutters roaming around in your stomach.

As you heaved, trying to catch your breath, your exercise friend was doing the same, but talking about something, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. Just hearing his voice made your stomach tingle and your heart beat erratically in your chest so hard that it felt it’d burst. You followed the beads of sweat trickle down his face and run onto his lips, focusing how the red of his tongue would peak out to catch the salty droplets.

When your eyes met, you swore that your heart thumped so hard that it was audible, even for him. His eyes, those deep magenta orbs that could tell a whole story just by looking at them, felt like you were injected with liquid adrenaline into your bloodstream, and the entire zoo grew rampant in your chest. Shinso’s cat-like eyes felt like looking into the sun for too long-- a maze you could get lost in and soon enough be blinded by. He was so effortlessly looking handsome.

And his hands. The same slender ones that have been on you time and time again, training after training. The image of his hands brushing against your own as you walk flickers throughout your mind, growing into a daydream of your own intertwining. Suddenly you speak, “Hitoshi, I like you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your confession, mouth ajar, and hand frozen on his capture material. The intensity of his gaze put a crack in your steely disposition as you glance the other way. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say anything, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

You watched as Shinso grinned, shaking his head in disbelief, his arm rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t one to smile much, never having much reason to and the fact that it took too much effort. But every time you spoke, you somehow made the corners of his mouth tug upwards each time. You didn’t merely speak words with no meaning behind. With every word you spoke, they were curt, straight to the point, and your conversations didn’t need the time-consuming falsehood of small talk. So, it was no surprise when you bluntly admit your feelings to your crush.

Like you promised, you never forced Shinso to speak up about your confession, not once asking if he felt the same way. You guys’ relationship continued to grow without a hitch, but that never stopped you from making flirtatious remarks with the male from time to time. A cheeky grin permanently painted across your face every time you were with him.

Scrambling up to your feet, you hurriedly made your way over to him despite your aching muscles. Clasping your hands around his neck in a chock-hold, you used your legs, dropping him on the ground right then and there.

“What were you saying about beating me?” you asked, laughing in between pants.

After three years of regular quirkless and quirkful combat with Shinso, you both had improved drastically every battle with one another. It took you everything to drop him over your shoulder like before, but you collapsed on the ground next to him, panting as soon as you did.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Shinso retorted, looking at you. Picking up on your exhaustion, he rolled over, immediately entrapping you with his weight as he grabbed both arms with his own, pinning you down.

“That’s not fair! The match was already over,” you pouted, however made no effort to push him off. He grinned, breathing out, his breath fanning over your face. It took mere seconds for him to realize the close proximity of your two faces, his own heating up, instantly taking on a rose hue. He hastily scrambled off of you, looking away as he tried to calm his face.

“Damn, I was hoping to be wrapped in your arms for longer,” you teased, whipping a fake tear delicately from your face.

He coughed at your words, choking on the water as his head snaps at you from the comment, hints of pink still present on his cheek. “Huh? Wha--”

“Relax,” you scoffed, propping yourself up with your elbows. “I’m just fucking with you.” As you made your way to your bags that were thrown onto the floor, you patted the male’s toned back as to acquiesce that everything’s alright. But before you can maneuver around him, Shinso’s hand latches itself on your wrist.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling you toward him. You make no move to pull away, feeling safe and secure in his arms, not the edge of intensity that comes with dancing with danger in your daily life as a hero-in-training. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning into Shinso’s embrace, even more, an affectionate smile on his face.

He tugs your cheek softly. “I like you too.” You stay silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushes against the skin he just pulled, and fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, you find yourself leaning into his palm, the ends of your lips tipping up slightly. You two focus on one another’s eyes, and all your common sense shuts down because the attention he’s giving you his startling, the vibrant violet of his orbs near closer, stealing your breath.

You brought your hands to the back of his neck, and in an instant, his lips found yours with a content sigh. Your eyes flutter shut, and even in darkness, you see light exploding. Although his movements were gentle and slow, his lips were firm, the two of you moving in perfect sync, sending shivers down your back. With each move, the blurred lines of your friendship beginning to clear, forming something new entirely. Parting your lips, you sighed as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, his lips plump and red.

Fluttering your eyes open, you find Hitoshi wearing a sweet smile on his face, filled with affection. His smile was one of happiness growing, much like spring flowers. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. While your heart was pounding, and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you, the silly smile never fell from your face.

“Finally.”

You and Shinso have been dating for five years now, debuting and growing as Pro Heroes. As time passed, your love for him got even stronger. Whenever he looked at you, it was like every ounce of air was taken from your lungs, floating in the sky like a midnight smoke cloud. Every time your lips tangled, the world would stop, leaving just the two of you wandering the earth together. When the two of you cuddle, and he holds your face between his hands, it’s like he’s keeping you in an eternity of security.

When the two of you were patrolling the streets, you came across chaos and panicked citizens. In the distance, there were flickering flames that hinted something deadly.

“Stay near me, (Y/N), and be careful,” Hitoshi announced as you catch up to his hurried pacing, nodding in acknowledgment, walking right into the heat of battle. The scene you were met with was unlike the disarray clues you had witnessed from the running citizens earlier.

All around, you could see the burning of bright orange flames as they devoured everything in their path. Your nose scrunched up in alarm from the smell of charred concrete and ash as they dusted the air. The moment you observed your surroundings, you wished you hadn’t. You narrowed your eyes as a menacing creature hovered around a horde of panicked civilians that desperately tried to scramble away. The beast had an ugly beak head with wings and extra limbs, and bloodlust radiating out of its beady eyes. It’s what every Pro has been acquainted with, a Nomu.

“Ready?” he grunted, quickening his pace to match yours.

“Always,” you answered, reaching out an arm, and in an instant, you immobilized the Nomu-like creature grasping hold of one of the unfortunate bystanders, your boyfriend running by you with his capture scarf in tow.

You rushed over to the person ungracefully falling with its captor. Grabbing the man’s arm, you slung him over your shoulder as you hauled him to safety. The man gasped out a thank you, slumping over a wall a fair distance away from the fighting, trying to catch his breath.

When you ran back into action, you and Hitoshi captured villains, the Nomu, and protected citizens. Multiple other heroes had arrived at the scene at this point, and the creature had been dragged out of by policemen, sirens echoing down the streets.

You had been rambling to your boyfriend about your costume, mentioning that you’d need to see Hatsume soon for some upgrades, but as you glanced over at him, you recognized the far offness in his eyes.

“Hitoshi?” you ask with furrowed brows, snapping your finger in front of him.

He blinks, his hands finding purchase around your waist. He pulls you closer as he nudges his head between your neck, and you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. Pulling back slightly, he reaches for your hands, interlocking them. A light smile adorned your face as you looked into his unblinking dark purple eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Now, as you stand in front of your soon to be husband, you feel the way your heartbeat picks up while your lungs fill with more air, but at the same time, you feel incredibly light. This is it. You’re seriously going to marry the love of your life.

There is so much to admire about him like his raw honesty. The way his words spill out real slow as if the truth can take its time. There’s like a force behind them, yet the kind that is respectful and quiet-- an observant and patient determination. He supports your pure, unadulterated personality, the good and bad. But of everything, it was looking in his eyes you loved the most. That’s all you ever needed to connect, just you and him, eyes, no words.

“You may now kiss.”

Shinso ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him, placing both hands on either side of your face. You two share a brief but deep kiss, yet you two are still grinning afterward as cheers from friends and families surround the two of you like magic, causing you to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.

In a world of chaos, the two of you find a place where togetherness means peace, where savage winds cease, and no clouds can block the warmth of the brightening rays.

And neither of you would want to have it any other way.

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nekokennedychan-blog · 3 years

Text

Medicrinn Chapter One

Self Insert F!Eivor/Female Reader. Intuition is something one should never ignore. The wind will always hint at what is to come.

Masterlist here.

Trigger Warnings: VERY Graphic depictions of violence, blood, and death. Themes of depression and solitude.

A/N: First ever fanfic. I don’t know what I'm doing. I have absolutely no idea how far this will take me, but I've been inspired by so many writers in this community and of course by lovely Eivor. This is the first chapter. Very little Eivor here. Some building up of our lead's personality and a little history. But don’t worry. Eivor is coming. And it’ll get sexy. Eventually. feedback welcome. I am newborn child with no idea what I'm doing. Please help me.

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange, blue, and purple, stars already twinkling in the darkest areas of the sky. A large crescent sliver sat on the western edge, the sight of the moon reminding you of a grinning wolf. There was something in the air tonight. Something that made your skin crawl, contrasting with the gorgeous end of the day. It unsettled you, though you couldn't pin point what the actual problem could be.

You bent down and continued to gather the calendula that grew on the hill here. You were running low as the monastery you lived on the edge of had recently begun to acquisition you for as much of your healing ointments as you could make. You didn't keep up with what monks of Beodoricsroth involved themselves with, but you were thankful for the patronage. It wasn't often the Holy men would seek outsiders for medical remedies, and they paid very handsomely. You had heard talk amongst your neighbors about some unrest due to some type of savage raiders.

Perhaps that is what has them panicked…

You gathered as much as your satchel could handle, and glanced at the moon. A burst of wind caused the unsecured pieces of hair to obscure your vision, bringing with it an icy chill. Rubbing your arms and pulling your furs closer to yourself, you turned to your dale. His large black eyes watched you closely as he huffed, seemly agreeing with your inner thoughts.

"We should get back, Fallon. The winds tell of misfortune today."

Mounting the tall horse quickly, you dug your boots into his sides and pushed him to a full lope, guiding him down the familiar path home with ease. As you got closer to town, dark clouds rolled across the sky, bringing with it sharp gusts of cold wind and the smell of coming rain. The familiar lighted windows of families already settled for the night greeted you are you slowed your steed on the main road of the outwr abbey.

You moved through the settlement quickly, to a lone house with a small stall to its left. Quaint but well kept, your home was the only thing left to you when your parents passed. Pink flowers peppered the yard, bringing you back four autumns in your mind.

Taken within weeks of each other, the fever and sickness did not take your parents swiftly enough. You could smell the posies your father had made you bring into the home. You remember crying as you gathered them, as your father had given you all his knowledge, as they would be used to hide the stench of their coming deaths. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull the bushes up.

Once grounded, you pulled Fallon into his stall, tossed him some hay, and hurried through your front door, carrying in your collections of the day. The strong smell of multiple herbs greeted you, and you fumbled for the candle you kept just inside. Once lit, the medical storehouse that was your home was brought into pale focus.

The flickering light, coupled with the feeling of dread pitting in your stomach, the made many candles, dried herbs, and vials laid out take on a sinister appearance. You hastened to light the hearth to dispel the illusion.

Notes in your flowing chirography littered almost the whole table you set your satchel on, each one depicting in detail different cures, remedies, and treatments. You liked being thorough and enjoyed carrying on your father’s work. It made for a very singular existence, as no sane man wanted an independent and intelligent woman. Perhaps spending so much time alone was making you nervous. The dark evening and spooky feelings were surely just your loneliness taking a toll on your psyche.

You slid the furs from your shoulders, hanging the coat over the small bench at the table. You sat on top of it, reaching down to pull the expensive leather riding boots from your sore feet. Unlacing the black outer dress at your chest, you shook it from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in the white underdress you would wear to bed. Lifting a pot of water, you hung it up over the fire and began prepping a small portion of meat.

A good supper and a night's rest through the coming storm would bring a better tomorrow. Or so you told yourself.

------------

Acrid smoke. That is the smell that woke you from a dreamless sleep. Fumbling on the stand next to your bed, you managed to light a candle. Thick smoke filled your home, but the smell of it was of nothing within. Confused and sleep dazed, you tumbled out of your fur blankets and slipped on your simple house shoes.

Once standing, and with a gust of wind from the slatted window, it was clear that the smoke was being pushed inside. At the moment of this understanding also came the awareness of sound - that of screaming, metal on metal, and the terrible sound of a maelstrom, all entwined together. No sooner does this register for you, and before any decision or action can be taken, does the door to your home splinter violently open. An armored man tumbles through the ruined door, the red and silver armor marking him clearly as one of Aelfred's men. Frozen, you watched as the man raised himself to his knees, his brown eyes meeting yours through the opening in his helmet.

"Apothecary," he wheezed, reaching out a hand towards you, "we need..." The man never finished his sentence. With a whistling sound, an axe cleanly sliced through the male's throat, embedding itself in the wall next to the fireplace. You watched in horror as the man's mouth hung open and his head fell from his shoulders, rolling across the floor. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the walls and ground. You dropped your light and rushed forward, sliding across the slick wood, trying to get to the only weapon you kept in your home.

A flash of lightening temporarily drew your attention to the now hole of a front door, and your heart stopped beating. Standing in the opening was a tall figure. Covered head to toe in sliver armor and black furs, stood a Viking. Braided blonde hair hung over the warrior's shoulder, the shaved side of her head decorated with tattoos. Fresh blood spatter danced across her scarred face, drawing your eyes to bright green ones accentuated with charcoal war paint. And in her left hand, from the peripherals of your vision, was an axe - one you were sure matched the one in your wall.

#eivor x reader #eivor varinsson #female eivor #f!eivor #lady eivor #eivor wolfkissed #eivor

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entishramblings · 3 years

Text

The Color of Periwinkle [Legolas X Aragorn]

A.N: the first part of this fic is 100% completely utterly platonic (no matter what)....the rest of it, however, you may decide for yourself

Request: anon — May I request a one-shot where Legolas is sleeping (recovering from an injury and is in Imladris) and Aragorn is sitting next to him, watching over him and like braiding a strand of his hair??? tooth rotting fluff please!!! Thank you xoxo

and

anon — Aloha! can i request a legolas x argorn oneshot where Aragorn is braiding flowers into legolas's hair? FLuff please!!! Love your previous works! keep it up<3

Pairing: Legolas X Aragorn

Summary: The three times Aragorn braids Legolas’s hair

Word Count: 2,075

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, some wounds/injury

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

The Woodland Prince had come to Rivendell to deliver a message from his father and opted to stay for a couple days. Hence, the elf currently stood upon a long winding balcony letting his gaze linger amongst the breeze of Imaldris, for it had been long since he last visited.

It was quite pleasant; he never got much time to observe the beauty of nature when he was at Mirkwood. Therefore, Legolas let his senses become captivated by his surroundings. His vision was ensnared with the purple, red, and orange leaves that were just beginning to fall from the swaying trees. His nose was engrossed in the fresh air that had started to cool as the colors of the sun begun to fade. And his ears were preoccupied by the hushed breaths and faint giggles of a child.

A soft smirk tugged at Legolas’s lips for the child was indeed not aware that Legolas knew of his presence. But, how could the Mirkwood Prince not be conscious of the little spying creature? After all, elves had quite incredible abilities.

Once the the next muffled laugh sounded, Legolas finally turned his head to look; and it was then when he caught the gaze of the curious eyes observing him from behind the corner of a wall.

The elf couldn’t withhold the urge to play with the little one, for it was quite obvious that is what the child wanted and, quite frankly, it was adorable. Besides, it had been some time since there were children running around the Woodland Realm.

Legolas moved from his spot and poked his head around the side of the stone—only to startle the human.

Human?

Quite strange.

The soft smile and gentle gaze of the Mirkwood Prince seemed to assure the child that he was in no danger for he did not back away.

“What is your name, little one?”

Inquiring eyes they were, pooled with the silver of shining metal and periwinkle buds, as they gazed upon the blonde Prince. Yet the child did not speak so Legolas opted to do so.

“I am Legolas. I come from the Woodlands to visit with Elrond.”

The dark haired boy’s expression changed at the mention of Elrond, clearly recognizing the person they spoke of. This common figure among them seemed to initiate trust within him for he spoke, all worries left behind. “Estel is what they call me.”

Legolas smiled in response before speaking, “Won’t you walk with me, Estel? Perhaps we might come across Elrond; he is quite fun to play pranks upon.”

Estel grinned at his sentence. “How would you know he is fun to trick?”

The Mirkwood Prince glanced down at the boy with a raised brow and spoke with a teasing tone. “Because I was the one who used to do it!”

Surprising the elf so, Estel reached up and took his hand. The two began to stroll around the paths of Imaldris, talking of the various escapades and antics that they had let loose upon the Lord of Rivendell.

By the time the pair of pranksters had made it inside, the clouds in the sky had been replaced with twinkling stars.

Legolas chose to sit on the floor by the fire in the library, for he supposed the little human might be cold. And indeed Estel joined him.

The intrusive little hands of the boy reached for Legolas’s hair.

“May I braid it?” He asked. “Arwen has been teaching me!”

A light chuckled left the Mirkwood Prince’s lips for he could not hold it back. “I suppose you may, but do not tangle it for I cannot face Elrond with a bird’s nest of hair....again.”

Estel released a bright laugh at the elf’s words and begun to weave the golden strands together.

It was after a long plait was completed, resembling that of a fish’s tail, that Lord Elrond stumbled upon the pair. Yet, he could not bring himself to force the boy to go to sleep for the scene before him was just too pure.

......

Over the years, Legolas had visited Rivendell often—often for an elf that is. Sometimes Estel was there and other times he was not. However, the child had grown up of sorts. Now, a man with stubble and a ranger with blade he had become. Strong and lean—built with muscles and hours of training.

Estel had still remained close with Legolas. The elf was one of the first ones he told of his true heritage and they spent much time together. The Mirkwood Prince would come with him on various scouting missions and even taught him how to use a bow. However, it was not always as easy. It was clear to the elf that Estel finding out his true heritage and what happen to his kin took a toll. He became quite reckless. He would dive into fight after fight, abandoning logic and discipline. But Legolas would keep a careful eye on him; yet his gaze could not always be spared from his royal duties. It was one of these times that the young dunedain was too rash.

Legolas had been making his way to Rivendell and, quite frankly, it was only luck that he stumbled across the bloodied plane when he did. A scouting trip appeared to have gone terribly wrong. Bodies of orcs and rangers alike littered the grass—staining the forest floor with death. Among all of the carnage, stood one man with a sword of red.

“Aragorn?” Legolas called out in worry as he dismounted his horse.

The man’s head snapped in the direction of the voice. “Legolas?” He called out in surprise.

The elf, quick on his feet, made his way to the center. “What happened?”

Aragorn shook his head in response.

Legolas clenched his jaw, “Did you move in too quickly? Did you scout ahead in advance? Did you—“

The man cut him off with a sharp irritated tone, “Enough! Do not chastise me.”

The elf breathed hot air from his nose, “Aragorn, men have died.”

“You think I do not know that?!” His rough voice grated out.

Legolas sighed, “I am just—“

The elf stopped speaking and whipped his head around as his elvish ears picked up the sound of a plucking bow. The following whistling of an arrow did not escape his attention either. Instead, it showed him the target.

Estel.

Legolas jumped forward just as the sharpened weapon was to thud into Aragorn’s chest. Rather than finding a home in the ranger’s heart, it buried itself into the elf’s shoulder.

“Legolas!” Aragorn hollered.

But it was too late.

The elf cried out as pain ruptured through his arm.

Another arrow came whizzing at the two, yet it just missed them.

“We must go!” Aragorn yelled as he pulled Legolas back to his horse.

As the elf struggled to climb upon the steed, Aragorn grasped his friend’s bow and let loose a couple arrows in the direction from which they came.

Curse words tumbled from his lips as it seemed he had not met his mark for more came back to him.

Hopping up behind the elf, he urged the horse to make hast.

They were quick to escape immediate death but that was not a solution, for as they went Legolas’s breath was labored and he seemed the slump against the man behind him.

As concern pooled in his mind, Estel spoke. “What is wrong, Legolas?”

The elf shook his head and hissed out one word, “Poison.”

By the time they thundered into Rivendell, Legolas was unconscious. Healers rushed to them instantly and pulled the elf away from the sorrow-ridden Ranger.

Time slowed for Estel as worry edged its way into his heart. There was no doubt in his mind that this was his fault for Legolas was right. He had been too reckless—too rash—and the elf had paid for it.

When dusk settled into the sky, Lord Elrond finally came for the pacing man.

The dark haired elf placed a hand upon Aragorn’s shoulder as he spoke. “He will be all right, Estel. I was able to pull the poison from his blood. He just needs rest.”

Relief washed over the ranger as the words registered in his mind, for if anything had happened to his dear friend he would surely be lost to grief.

“May—may I see him?” Aragorn uttered quietly.

Elrond nodded and guided the man to the room where Legolas’s unconscious form laid.

The elf was still, frozen like the icy lakes of winter. His porcelain face was pale as clammy sweat sleeked his brow—giving his skin a periwinkle tint. His lips were parted and eyelids closed. If it was not for his bare chest rising and falling gently, Aragorn would have thought him dead.

The Ranger slowly shuffled forward until he was at the side of the bed. The white dressing upon Legolas’s shoulder was wrapped firmly around the wound with only slight red seeping through. It did not look bad, but Aragorn knew that the wound itself hadn’t been fatal—it was the poison.

He sat upon the mattress as Elrond left him alone with his thoughts.

It was then when Aragorn could not help himself, for his shaking hand reached towards the blonde locks that sprayed out amongst the sheets. Slowly, he took a small section and began to plait it together. The repetitive notion seemed to calm his anxieties so he continued until the golden locks were filled with a bunch of tiny braids. They were a bit out of place, but Aragorn was no expert. He only knew he felt better when his hands were busy and upon the elf.

......

Nowadays, Aragorn was the chieftain of the dunedain. He had grown up much, one would say. No longer was he hotheaded and rash; instead, his recklessness was replaced with caution and deliberately contemplated decisions. A good change indeed. Yet with his responsibilities and Legolas’s princely duties, it was not likely for the two to be in the same place at the same time. So, it was merely by chance that they were both visiting Rivendell during the same season.

Many elves were wandering the Rivendell meadows and gardens for the spring’s breeze was gentle and freeing. Legolas, who spent his days in darkened corridors and the dreadful shadows of Mirkwood’s sickness, was certainly one of these elves.

The blonde prince rested on his back with the green grass and vibrant flowers whispering upon his skin. He let his eyelids flutter closed as the warmth of the sun spread within his chest and the scent of honey and jasmine filled his nostrils. His heart felt at peace.

“You’re father would not approve of wasting time like this,” A voice stated smugly from above.

Legolas cracked a smile for he recognized the tone immediately. “What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

The Ranger sat down next to the elf and let his forearms rest upon his knees. Aragorn seemed to also let the serenity of nature settle over him as he plucked at the various colored buds sprouting below him.

“So strange that such a small thing could be so beautiful and intricate,” He murmured under his breath as he examined the vein-like shapes within the petals.

Legolas sat up and carefully removed the flower from his friend’s grasp. “You are quite correct.” He paused for a moment as he examined the light periwinkle floral leaf, “You know, this color reminds me of your eyes.”

Aragorn let out a deep chuckle as he took the flower back from the elf.

A long moment passed as the two enjoyed the gentle lull of nature.

Surprising the Mirkwood Prince, Estel reached forward and let his fingers slip through one of Legolas’s blonde locks. The elf sent him a side glance of slight confusion but did not stop the man. The Ranger scooted behind his friend and began to plait his hair once again, weaving the small flowers into it as he went.

Aragorn spoke softly, “You know, this color goes well with your hair.”

Legolas smirked, “Is that your way of saying that my hair goes with your eyes?”

The Ranger rolled his grey orbs and tugged slightly on the elf’s blonde locks, “Is that your way of saying so?”

The elf shrugged as he tried to hide his grin.

The two sat there, in the meadows of Imaldris, for they both felt at peace wrapped in the color of periwinkle.

.....

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reef-of-ideas · 3 years

Text

Conclusion of music!

Warning:Angst(a bit), death of side characters, implicit homophobia, aged up characters.

Luca just wanted to enjoy the last week before his wedding, but sometimes life has other plans

1974– Portorosso, Italy – 7:45 AM

The light brush of scales over his right eye was all it took to wake Luca from his dream, resting his hand on the wet wood, the 24-year-old man looked up and could see the green leaves dripping with fresh rainwater on him and his still-sleeping fiance hugging him tight, green and purple blending into the tree house that was now too small for both of them.

A laugh escaped the younger nerei lips as he played with the scales on top of Alberto's head and remembered when they first slept in "Giulia's hideout"

"You are here" A female voice comes from the window and the red hair was the first trace that Luca's still sleepy eyes could identify "I went looking for you in Alberto's room and almost left on a motorcycle looking for you in the village until Papà told me that you didn't leave."

"We wanted to see the stars " Alberto's voice coming from his body still with eyes closed caught the attention of the two friends, the eldest gave a smile while he imagined the look of indignation on his fiancé when he learned that he wasn't sleeping

"Were you awake?" Luca widens his eyes, blushing slightly as Alberto sat down crossing his legs, his tail waving behind his excited body.

"Yes ... do you like to play with my hair Lu?" Taunts the purple sea creature receiving a slap from his fiancé and laughing out loud when he sees that his taunt worked.

"Dios mio, you're going to get married in a week but you're worse than when you started dating – Giulia complains slapping both hands on her face, pulling them down and clapping her hands "OK, let's have a breakfast we have a lot what to do."

<......>

Luca's attention was drawn to his fiancé when he took out the book he was reading while he ate his breakfast and held his hand.

– It's not good to read while you eat – Alberto says as he takes the cup of coffee to his mouth –Hot.

–I was just thinking…I wish we could really get married – Luca says making Alberto's grip tighten – I mean this is illegal, the marriage

-Not by the law of nereis - Alberto says smiling making his love smile.

-Besides, everyone in Portorroso is in agreement, here you will have your register - Giulia splashes water on Luca's face, which slowly cleans up, his mood returning to maximum.

A big man enters the small kitchen, clearing his throat, attracting everyone's attention, especially Giulia who hadn't seen her father enter

-Giulietta, your mother is already arriving -Massimo begins to speak earning a smile from the three other members present in the kitchen -But I can't pick her up at the train station...I need to work

-Alright papa, me and the boys can go...right ragazzi? -Says the redhead holding the curls in a high tail that would probably give many problems to undo later.

-I forgot I needed to go see my parents - Luca says hitting his head on the table and dropping the glass of juice on his arm, his scales appearing in a random pattern.

-Don't worry, I'm going with Giulia and when you come back we can go swimming -Says Alberto giving Luca a quick small kiss while Giulia pretended to be sick and Massimo laughed.

<......>

Alberto had just left for the station with Giulia, Massimo handed Luca the house keys and went out to his boat, lefting him all alone. Since there was nothing to do, he decided to go meet his family at the bottom of the reef... until someone grabbed his arm.

-Can I help you? -Luca gently moves away from the man he didn't know, he had strawberry blond hair and chocolate eyes, his pale skin indicated that he was not used to walking in the sun and therefore was not from the region.

-Yes, my name is Bas Visser - the man, now known as Bas, spoke in Italian with a Dutch accent, his hands were clean but his clothes smelled fish -I need help, I'm traveling with my biologist wife, but she left the town to go to Rome, I need a specialist in marine life, the fishermen found something...I think a rare fish and I need help...is life or death.

"Is the city far away? "Luca asks looking at his wristwatch and then looking at the water.

"Two hours by car " Bas says nervously, missing the look Luca has given the shore before nodding to the car.

<...>

Alberto arrived at the door of his house to find the note written in his fiance's hand "I went to see my parents, I'll be back until nightfall", smiling like a fool Alberto looked for the keys in his hiding place while Giulia and her mother laughed at the passionate way of the Nerei.

"Here "Alberto hands the key to Giulia and turns towards the coast

"But already? " Giulia laughs, making Alberto stop, embarrassed by her anxiety "go right now, Beto".

He was already down to his feet in the water, the familiar sensation of scales emerging from his skin, fins growing, came along with a smile...which was immediately erased when an irritating voice came from behind him.

"You won't find your little love fish there " Ercole says making Alberto turn to him and walk out of the water, his shoes forgotten on the stone " What's wrong? It is the truth"

" And why should I believe you? Your rotten eel? " Alberto crosses his arms, but is surprised to see the calm expression and the mocking smile on the older man's face

" I don't know if I should give you this information "Ercole tries to play a little game just to be pulled by the collar, the sweat that dripped onto Alberto's hand making a single purple scale appear

"Ercole I don't mess with me or I'll throw you into the sea " the younger man's voice didn't have a threatening tone, it was a warning, Ercole regained his composure and his smile when Alberto released him, trying to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

"I was going to say, I was just kidding…."Ercole takes a few steps, walking around Alberto "I just wanted to warn you, you know, I saw with my own eyes your "fiancé" following a blond, older and handsome man, entering the car and then leaving town"

There was no time for Ercole to get out of the way, Alberto walked away knocking the older man into the sand, the sea monster ran through the village asking everyone he met if the story Ercole told was true, those who hadn't seen it couldn't tell .. .but those who saw it confirmed it.

Alberto doesn't know how long he stayed at the top of his tower on Isola del Mare, he watched the sky slowly change color and the stars appear and as he wished Luca were here to hug him, he didn't want to be abandoned again...then a stone hit his head

"What…Giulia? " Alberto asked seeing his sister getting ready and hitting a new rock, on the coast a boat was anchored "I'm already going down"

Giulia had been nervous since Luca's call, why did Alberto need to disappear too? Finally when the fishman finished coming dow from the stairs, the redheaded woman took him by the arm and pulled him into the boat, a single sentence capturing Alberto's full attention.

"Luca is in trouble"

<......>

When Luca and Bas arrived in that city, the sky was already showing signs that the stars were soon to appear, as soon as he got out of the car, Bas took Luca by the hand and dragged him to a large fishing boat.

Luca's heart sped up with every step as he dodged the fishermen with wet hands, the fish smell strong and dead making Luca feel like he was in a maze.

"Maybe after the Dutchman finds out what fish it is, we can finally open the purple thing " The words of the fisherman that Luca couldn't see turned his stomach remembering his purple-scaled lover, when he reached the bottom of the boat Luca wanted to cry.

A smooth purple skin was curled into a ball, tangled together with the lines of the fishing net were the opaque tentacles of a jellyfish? The net was so tight it cut into the creature's skin, blood trickling over the already dried blood, the nerei that was supposed to reflect light was pale, except for a yellow dot of light shielded by what Luca assumed were arms.

"So….you know what this is? " Bas asks impatiently and Luca realizes he's been in a distracted for a while

" I think I can find out… but I could be alone with… the fish " Luca makes sure not to pull out the nets as quickly as possible and possibly reveal himself to a possible enemy " I need to release the creature and I don't want to damage more what is already"

"Of course " Bas leaves the room smiling and Luca begins to suspect that the biologist wife story was a huge lie, seeing the emergency phone Luca runs to him.

"I need a minute " He asks the creature not sure if she could hear him, dialing the number Luca prayed for someone to answer him and almost cried with joy when he heard Giulia's voice.

"Luca? Where are you? Are you cheating on Alberto? What is happening? " the questions came so quickly that Luca doesn't remember half of what was said on the other end of the line.

"Giulia, I need you to be aware" Knowing that the friend would be paying attention, he told everything vaguely, about the boats, the city, the Dutchman and the Nerei trapped in the net, before he could finish speaking the call was disconnected, Giulia left going look for Alberto.

As soon as the blood and water that was still in the nerei's body reach Luca's hands, his scales emerge earning a sigh from the imprisoned creature showing it is still alive, it took a whole hour to completely release the jellyfish nerei of the lines.

"Let's go to lay down" Luca pulls her slightly transparent pinkish-purple legs, her yellow-spotted arms were still wrapped in something that was gradually losing its shine, the hair's tentacles that were once yellow were now yellowish-white and her tail was gone , torn off over the network.

"You have to dry yourself" If Luca hadn't been paying attention he wouldn't have heard the woman, Luca knew they were keeping her wet to be "fresh" or else they would have already discovered the change, for an instant the woman's gaze lost focus.

–Hey…-Luca shook the woman's arm and felt a shock, looking confused, he tried to see if he had hit the tentacles…then he saw a slightly transparent blue tentacle coming out of the woman's arms –Is that…signora? -He tried to get her attention, but when he noticed her tightness around whatever glowed weaken he knew... she wouldn't respond.

Wet with blood and tears was a baby, banana-yellow skin, with patches of sky blue on the tips of its fingers and toes that matched the blue of its hair tentacles and its three tentacles that took the place of the fins of the tail of a nerei.

Luca heard footsteps and looked at the window, he knew he wouldn't be able to escape the way he entered and was already almost completely transformed.

"Silenzio Bruno" He said aloud and did the most reasonable thing to do…he set fire to the boat and threw himself into the sea with the baby in his arms.

<......>

Alberto was terrified when arriving in town and hearing about the fire in the harbor, he was about to go to the flaming boat when a hand pulled him into the water.

Green and brown eyes staring at each other before a kiss was exchanged and Alberto was shocked, staring at his fiancé with curiosity, the eldest just received a look of self-pride from Luca while he protected a package made of his blouse against his scaly chest.

"What is it? " Alberto asks while pointing to Giulia to go to where they left the car. Swimming beside Luca he never thought he would hear those words from such a happy boy, just hearing Alberto wanted to burn a boat himself.

The tentacles of the baby's hair fluttered while her eyes remained closed and she played with a button on Luca's shirt, when they saw Giulia Alberto immediately wrapped the baby up and took her in his arms for Luca to rise to the surface. They got into the backseat almost forgetting to dry themselves.

"Can you tell me what's going on? IS THAT A BABY?! " Giulia screams after making a curve, Alberto had decided to dry the baby and now they could see the little girl in her human glory, the skin was slightly darker than Alberto, her hair was slightly frizzy having decreased in size a lot since before it reached below the ears, her eyes were open, black as a blackberry looking curiously at the men holding her, sighing Alberto and Luca began to tell the baby's story in more detail to Giulia who nearly crashed her car like three times.

<......>

It was obvious that when they arrived in Portorosso everyone would be looking for them, Luca's parents were the first to see them, Daniela running for the hug without noticing the bundle in Alberto's arms.

"We were so worried, you guys disappeared for hours " Luca's mother slapped each one on the arm, Alberto dodging as best he could, but still being hit.

"Leave the boys Daniela" Lorenzo, Luca's father, says pulling his wife and giving a look at Alberto's arms that gives a nervous smile "Don't be too long for dinner."

"Lorenzo! " Daniela complains as she was pulled into the Marcovaldo house

"They are adults Daniela, they know how to take care of themselves" Lorenzo finally takes the woman out of the way and the two disappear into the house

"I'll go in too, try to solve that matter" Giulia says entering soon after.

The couple were heading to the coast where they would go to Isola del Mare, when Ercole appears laughing.

"Look who's back…I thought" Ercole was interrupted by a well-aimed punch hit him in the face by Luca

"Don't threaten my relationship" and without giving time to respond, Luca pulled Alberto out to sea

"Silenzio Bruno?" Alberto asked as he swam passing the baby to Luca

“This time it was his idea” Luca says jokingly.

Climbing to the top of the tower was more difficult with the baby, the three of them were dry, the child playing with some lost item from Alberto's collection while was in Luca's lap, the two adults looking at the stars.

"I don't know if I want her to go away " Alberto breaks the silence, his finger pretending to take the box from the girl's hand

"She doesn't need to go" Luca replied, looking away from the stars to look at his fiance's eyes "I'm afraid to let her go, her mother fought so hard to protect her..."

"She trusted you, she knew you would protect her" Alberto took the baby and looked her from head to toe " She is small"

" She's a baby Beto" Luca smiles seeing Alberto's sweet expression for the child "I think she's about four months old… but she looks smaller than she should, probably from hunger"

"You're still going to marry me right?" Alberto asks making Luca laugh when he realizes that the man did not hear a single word he said.

"Of course you silly" Luca leaves a kiss on his cheek "Even more if we are going to raise a daughter together"

"Serious?" Alberto's eyes shine as he looked from Luca to the baby leaving kisses on the baby's thin neck -Did you hear that? I'll be your papà! We'll be your papàs!

"If we're going to raise her, then she'll need a name" Luca smiles with a name mind, his head looking to the beach that is hit for the moonlight

"What are you thinking Lu?" Alberto asks, getting up and following Luca who had walked to the stone balcony

"I just thought of a perfect name" Luca smiles approaching the two and caressing the child's face -"mean victory...but can mean life"

"And why this name would be perfect?" Alberto asks already having an idea of the explanation

"Oh Alberto, she passed for so much, you needed see how strong she was, she could be dead like her mother but here is she" Luca plays with the baby's hands and smile to her "She won in a place where others would make it, her mother sacrificed herself so she could live"

"I'm sure I'll love it." Alberto kisses Luca while the girl drops the metal box and grabs her new father's hair.

<......>

Seeing Luca and Alberto with a Nerei baby was not what everyone thought would happen when the boys took an hour to decide to show up.

Massimo was the one who decided to take the initiative and took a step forward seeing the little girl with yellow skin and blue tentacles clinging and hiding her face in his adopted son.

"So..." The man didn't need to say much because Luca immediately started talking, only trusted people were present, his family and he wanted them to know so they could protect his daughter

"We don't want to let her go" Alberto says looking at the girl with a look that was clear as day, he didn't want to be like his biological father to leave a being to take care of himself

"I'm grandma" It was the only thing Daniela says while grandma Paguro, now great-grandmother, laughed lightly patting her daughter's shoulder

"I AM A ZIA" Giulia shouts excitedly, her hair now loose falling in her face

"What's my granddaughter's name?" Lorenzo asks excitedly making Luca smile seeing the support of the family

"I assume you've already chosen the.name, right?"Massimo says in his playful way camouflaged by seriousness

"Yes yes, the name, the name" The redhead was taken by childish excitement when thinking of a niece to pamper

Luca looked at Alberto and the child and then at his family, as if following her father's cue, as the man spoke the baby showed her eyes in their natural form, the black sclera and white iris were a contrast to the pale yellow face.

" Vita Paguro-Marcovaldo"

#luca #luberto #giulia marcovaldo #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #ocs

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keeper-not-hero · 3 years

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MY THREE HUMANS AND MY THREE TROLLS ARE FINALLY DONE BEING THOUGHT ABOUT AND ARE NOW PLACED INTO THE WORLD FOR YOU TO ENJOY READING ABOUT, Massive post under read more!!!

[Obs: These ain’t kids. They’re all in their early 20’s tho.]

Gatolt Osbizb (name means nothing. = Muse of Doom.) -

Looks: Hair that goes down to her shoulders, curly and surprisingly well groomed. Skin (and body) made up of tiny chunks stitched together. Fingers, hands, legs, slightly different shades of grey, with seams colored with the multitude of different blood types beneath. Blank eyes, shirt and pants. Simplistic dress code.

Personality: A hodgepodge of Troll flesh, bones, and a few cybernetic enhancements all stitched together into a singular being. Goldblood, purple blood, violet, and more. Both of her eyes are blank (though she can still see thanks to cyberoptics), and she is usually in at least a mild amount of pain due to the strain of her body barely being able to keep itself together. Despite all that, she tries to act cheery and tries to be the life of her friend circle, though not always with success. And besides, she rarely tries to mingle outside of it, feeling unwelcome in other circles.

Constantly requires maintenance which she usually does herself, and… fresh replacements. Her creator fucked up in making her, which means she is now slowly yet constantly rotting away, to the point every part of her body except the brain and enhancements are different than her first resurrection. Her girlfriend, Bakhus, usually helps with gathering ‘replacements’. She feels like a burden due to her condition that sometimes leaves her bedridden for days, which makes her stay quiet and sometimes even enable her friends’ bad habits, because she doesn’t want to be a drag. Hates the fact her whole life revolves around her condition. Likes gardening and clockwork.

Bakhus Gredui (Greedy Bacchus / Dionysius. = Thief of Void) -

Looks: Hair that goes all the way to the floor and a few feet behind her, greasy, messy, and dragging food bits in it. Tank top with her sign (Sign of the Brazen) on it, suspenders and oversized clown pants. Juggalo make-up messy and somewhat faded, droopy yellow eyes, usually with a hunched stance. Very, very tall, and extremely strong - with some healthy weight to her body to go along with it.

Personality: A purple-blood that represses her kind and motherly urges under liters and liters of Faygo. A chef at heart and a great cook from years of experience, she constantly throws barbecues and small carnivals on her massive garden, which attracts lowblood and highblood alike. Her festivities have become small gathering spots for those who wish to mingle with the upper / lower classes despite their own status, and for spies of both the Condescension and those who oppose her. Bakhus is, of course, too busy grilling to mind that she has accidentally created the perfect neutral spot.

Despite her cooking prowess, the Faygo inhibits both her ability to feel much empathy or care about the taste of her food. Deliciously cooked and prepared meals placed near overly-sugary, soggy, Faygo-drenched pretzels. She carries a massive cookbook alongside her massive pot, which has recipes that certain blood types enjoy, and… recipes made out of said blood types. She has no qualms cooking violets and reds, and sometimes will go so far as to grab Faygo-drunk trolls in her cookout and take them inside to ‘rest’. They’re never seen again.

Also keeps a small spice garden. Gatolt usually takes care of it, with whatever isn’t used to cook as fertilizer. Occasionally, she sends the butchered corpses to Marciu. Who also happens to be Gatolt’s creator.

Marciu Shelli (Like, y’know. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein’s author. = Seer of Space) -

Looks: Short hair, think Eridan, but with no streak. Scrawny to a fault, and clearly underfed. Big scientist glasses with special prescription lenses, white lab robes that hide his starving figure and his left hand gloved with thick, hazmat-suit-like protection. The right one is a prosthetic, indigo tubes and wires trying to replicate the sensation of the original with… some success. Pointy nose, sharp teef.

Personality: Anxious, skittery and, quite frankly pitiful even for an indigo blood, Marciu spends most of his days either robbing graves for corpses or putting his ill-gotten gains to use in his laboratory. Deeply resentful of feelings he has about himself, he buries them deep within him and, to make sure no one can say he is valid or try to empathize with his pain, keeps pushing himself further and further down the hole until he pushes everyone away. Having lost a hand to a nasty accident involving a bone saw and a few too many of Bakhus’ spiked snacks, he also has a mechanical replacement.

A master of biomechanical engineering, he constantly creates half-troll, half-machine abominations to help him around the lab. Rotten servants just barely able to move their joints with hollow eyes and faces, mechanical hearts pumping blood and fuel throughout the system. Still, despite his best attempts at being as repugnant as possible, his friends still cling to him.

Except Gatolt. Gatolt has actively tried to kill him multiple times, being stopped only by Bakhus’ eternal kindness to the weirdo that occasionally gives her “aged” ingredients. Also, his human friends.

[Why does he have human friends? Idk, Pesterchum + machines or AU where humans and trolls live in the same world after a few Sburb/Sgrub/Swhatever versions playing out after homestuck and Lord English being gone.]

Bert Kairos (Albert Einstein and his whole relativity stuff + Kairos, a greek concept of time. = Mage of Time.) -

Looks: Very short and very curly hair. Dark skin, both legs missing, though one has a very unpolished, simplistic metal prosthetic to help him stand in one foot. Right arm missing too, half of a prosthetic attached to it,cut off at the elbow from an accident. Hasn’t bothered replacing it yet. Blouse with a robot symbol and shorts, chin stubble. Brown eyes.

Personality: A gentle soul who makes more time for everyone else than he ever did to himself. Spending literal days away from his parents’ home, staying in his makeshift workshop creating toys for the kids on his street and to help the people of his community. Lost both legs and an arm from accidents with heavy machinery and cars that he work repairing to make a living, usually for meager scraps out of the kindness of his own heart and the belief that it’s all part of a greater plan that he barely gets enough to survive, relying on crutches and Marciu’s prosthetics that often break because of even more accidents due to his very precarious working conditions.

He dreams of one day being able to inspire people, though. A big, endless machine of silly, simple delights. Not curing the world, not controlling the weather, a machine with the same utility as a painting. A machine that could cover the entire world in its width and length, proof that humanity can do anything if it just bands together. A wish that sometimes consumes his mind as he spends hours on end, instead of sleeping, building small moving pieces that will hopefully one day help fill this whole. This magnificent machine he will make to help mankind flourish through its artistic value, that they will sing his name in praise for generations, that mankind will be uplifted until we don’t need work, money, barriers, differences, just a homogenous mass streaking across the cosmos with machine brilliance.

But, he has way too many people to take care of, so he never dabbles on it too much.

Andy Eissuh ( :) - Lord of Life) -

Looks: Blonde hair tied in a manbun. Bushy stubble beard all over his face. Smuggest fucking grin you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes. Average height, an air of superiority that is as annoying as it is believable due to how he carries himself; like an untouchable douchebag. White tuxedo and business pants, y’know, like a doctor. Right? He’s even got the white cross! Yeah, sure, that sounds right. Like he cares about proper dress code for doctors.

Personality: A very, very, very bad doctor. A very bad doctor that has just enough good reputation and far too much money from their family to let their pretty much 100% patient loss rate slip without anyone being able to pry into it. Patient comes in, body bag goes out, and nothing ever leaves the hospital. The one time he actually saved someone was by accident, and it was a botched (and misdiagnosed by him) liver transplant where he accidentally removed the appendix instead of said liver, forgot to replace it, and the patient recovered in a short while with the help of the nurses from what he later learned was appendicitis.

Believing himself to be able to do no wrong, with a chirpy, colorful yet aggressively passive personality, he keeps his friend group around mostly to dispose of the bodies without many questions asked, and so he can feel better than the pathetic wretches he considers them. Completely blind to his irredeemably cruel medical malpractices, which he didn’t even study for, he simply bought his way into a degree because he “could feel it was my destiny.” Soft, sweet, and completely unhinged. Finding great joy preying upon the insecurities and naivete of his peers, which he feels is a breeding ground to use and abuse them for his own needs. Shoulda been smarter if you didn’t wanna get taken advantage of, duh!

Cain Pyrite (Cain the first sinner + Fool’s Gold. = Rogue of Light. ) -

Looks: Hair slightly above his shoulders, dark and greasy. Sickly pale skin, beeg librarian glasses. A nice fuzzy coat, plus shirt, plus jeans. Eye symbol on his coat. Looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, which, yeah, is absolutely right. Gentle smile, though it occasionally cracks into a nervous attempt at hiding… something!

Personality: Dedicated to… no, OBSESSED with preserving occult and ancient knowledge. Scrolls from ancient alchemists, bones of kings, relics thought long since lost hidden on the back of his seemingly normal book shop. Spending most of his days with no clients, he occasionally gets someone who is aware of his darker inclinations. He is always happy to trade knowledge for knowledge and artifact for artifact.

Only, not always the originals. No. Never the originals.

Always finding a way to spin a story and make sure that he can spot out any fakes, he builds his collection of convincing lies, and hidden truths. Friends with the others since grave-digging always inherits some fun and interesting things, and his appetite for the esoteric and forgotten is only comparable for his taste in interesting and unique foods.

#oc #long post #homestuck #Enjoy!!!!!!!! maybe idk #they're all horrible peopl #who will one day get better...#if i ever fucking WRITE my fanadventure #or... the dream #manage to turn it into a fancomic with someone

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aly-kurta · 3 years

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I wanted to do this since a long time .... I'll upload infos about my HxH oc!

Friendly reminder that I'll lovely accept advices and constructive criticism! Just do not spread random hate. <3 Creating characters should be fun, not something people should insult each other for!

CW: mentions of violence and family loss.

Imagine having a serious oc but the only decent drawing you have is one where they are embarassed.

Okay, let's start this.

BIOLOGICAL INFO

Name: Lewis

Meaning of name: "Illustrious warrior"

Gender: Female

Age: 18 years old

Date of Birth: 27th January (Aquarius vibes biatch)

Place of Birth: Lukso, Kurta clan (don't worry there's a reason for her survival)

Height: 1,57 cm

Weight: 51 kg

Blood type: 0-

Hair: wavy and dark brown. Shorter behind and longer on the sides.

Eyes: brown. her eye shape is sharp, giving her almost all the time a judging and serious look.

Skin: pale, there are a few white scars on her body due some fights.

Body: thanks to the training her father made her pass throught in order to be capable to protect herself, Lewis has an athletic and kind of muscular body. Sometimes it's difficult for her to keep up fighting and training due an illness concerning her legs' bones.

OCCUPATION + PERSONALITY + CLOTHES

Occupation: Blacklist hunter. She's willing to accept assignments from wealthy families (for example, Nostrade's family), but the quest, in order to be accepted, can not surpass boundaries set up by Lewis herself.

Personality: at first glance, Lewis can come off as a sarcastic but overall serious and cold brat. Due her being cautious, random friends and chit chats are a big "no", she will low her standars if the she finds someone intersting and cultured. In fact, for her, culture and intelligence count more than everything else. Her realistic, harsh irony and coldness may soften if someone forms a strong bond with her (but if you think they will be safe from her scarcasm, oh boy, you're so wrong). Slowly, her enthusiastic and curious side will come off. Small warning: joke about her height and you'll get lovely beaten up.

Likes: books, learning, smart people, cats, traveling, fighting.

Hates: ignorant people, loud noises, seeing children and innocent people suffer, killing without any particular reason.

Clothes: total black style, so it's easier for her to not be seen in the dark and during the night. She wears a sleeveless jumper, with shorts and high boots. She also wears her father's gloves in his memory and a neckacle with a blue pendant in hyaline quartz.

NEN AND FIGHTING SKILLS

Nen type: transmuter. Her hatsu consists in transmuting her aura in heat, elevating the temperature until the creation of flames ( red flames are the "weakest", the strongest one are blue -purple flames, said to reach 1400 degrees on the Celsius scale). In order to protect herself from the flames, she wraps a little bit of aura around herself, but sometimes her skin gets burnt from her hatsu, thats why she counts more on a "speed" strategy more than a "strenght" one.

When her scarlet eyes are active, she become a Specialist (I deduced every Kurta does and not just Kurapika, since the scarlet eyes are a really particular thing, what do you guys think?). When in this state, her flames and explosione created by them are way more intense and her aura gets wider. But obviously she has an harsh condition: in order to use it she has to use her own body as fuel (so that's why she has to eat regularly, not allowed to be weak).

When the scarlet eyes aren't active, her nen uses her energy and, when in En, external resources in an area of 9 meters as fuel (so if you feel yourself or the air around you becoming cold, you better keep constant distance from her).

Fighting style (hand-to-hand): her father trained her to muay thai.

TRIVIA

Her father taught her how to play the violin, but she does it rarely due painful memories;

She admires Gon's desire to meet his father because she understand that feeling, she would do anything to meet her mother or remember more and more about her;

She is inspired to Lewis Carroll, the writer of "Alice in Wonderland". Why? Originally she was a BSD and Carroll is my favourite writer together with Tolkien;

She often scolds Kurapika because he is careless about himself;

Lewis has met Hisoka before. She was in search for money and ended up fighting with him.

Why did I make her a Kurta? Six years ago, when I created her (and I didn't watch HxH) I added this thing about her eyes having a red hue when angry due her ability. Then I watched HxH and was like "wtf Lewis";

The meaning behind the name "Lewis" helped me defining her personality;

I lowkey ship her with Kurapika because of their personalities becoming even more complex when together. Their story is a whole mess because they believe that by becoming a couple, they'd just destroy each other.

BACKSTORY

Lewis was born in Lukso, along with her beloved twin brother. Her family was watched with doubt and oddity by the other members of her clan due both her parents being Hunters.

Her mother, a Virus Hunter, passed away when Lewis and her brother were five years old, so their father, a Blacklist Hunter, took the responsibility to teach them about self-defense, the outside world and to always have a goal in life. So the twins grew up knowing how to fight and the desire of making their life complete.

After her 13th birthday, Lewis decided to take the Hunter Exam (because she wanted it? Well yes, but she also aimed at making her father proud). Succeding the exam to exit the clan and greeting her people, she started her journey to get her Hunter License.

Once she got the license, after a long road, Lewis was ready to return to her forest with pride and victorious and show her clan what she was worth. So you can imagine how she felt when during her return trip she heard about the slaughter of the "demonic Kurta clan".

So pained that she couldn't even manage to return to her home, Lewis strayed for two years and half on the streets, living off the duties of a Blacklist Hunter, and then affording a decent house in Yorknew city.

What do I do now, she asked herself. Her desire to make the Troupe pay for their genocide marched together with her will to follow her father and her brother's desire: help the weake, live life to the fullest and become the best version of your soul.

That's how Lewis lives, the grief and rage battling against the desire to go on and live for herself. What will win this fight?

YORKNEW ARK

So time passes on and Lewis decides to try and get the eyes of her clan that will be exposed to the Auction.

How can she achieve this little goal? Of course she had money, but not that much to afford her purchase.

That's how she ended up meeting two little boys who came there for a videogame called "Greed Island" and a man. Their names were Killua, Gon and Leorio.

Lewis' first plan was just to do something similar to a business contract, you help me and I help you. But her planning mind didn't take in consideration the fact that this move would have changed her life.

When she told the three boys what she wanted to buy at the Auction, the group immediatly looked at each other, asking her what she found amusing about a pair of eyes took away from some innocent person.

"Let's call it... personal interest" she answered. Her vague response ringed a bell on Killua's mind, making him thinking she was a member of the infamous Phantom Troupe.

Gon, Killua and Leorio immediatly came up with a plan to make that misterious girl confess her identity and show them her spider tatoo. The plan was perfect and the three of them, after a week, cornered Lewis, ready to attack.

Little did they know about her being sligthly annoyed by this "betrayal".

Leorio's jaw almost dropped to the floor when Lewis' scarlet eyes came out instinctively. The kurta quickly hid her face but it was too late.

Gon was confused because... how did she survive the massacre?

Killua meditated if it was the case to rush and call Kurapika. Or was it a trick to prove false innocence?

With lots of sighs and sarcastic jokes like "yeah I'm the boss of that shitty Troupe, wanna come at our Christmas dinner this year?", the girls sat down and waited for that Kurapika everyone was talking about. It would have been better to kill the three boys and escape but she couldn't push herself to see life escaping Gon and Killua's eyes. They were kids and they didn't hurt her in any way yet... and the way their eyes shone, specially Gon's ones.

And so, she waited until a blonde boy stormed into the room in a rush.

What was even happening? Who was he? These question made her head fuzzy from all the thinking.

"You have scarlet eyes, don't you?" the boy approached her.

"And what if I do?" Lewis coldly looked at Kurapika.

Gon pointed out at Killua how the temperature lowered in the room.

"Show me your eyes" Kurapika said with a commanding tone.

"Don't play with fire, boy, or you'll get burnt"

Leorio interrupted the two of them: "he's a Kurta too don't worry!"

Kurapika scolded Leorio with an angry look just before realizing what he meant.

"Another... survivor?" he looked at Lewis "no it isn't possible..."

The two of them were shocked and couldn't even process the deed. They weren't alone?

"Let me use the Dowsing Chain on her, so I can state that it's the truth and not a mischevious trick.

Still shocked and confused, all of them made sure about the truth: Lewis was in fact a Kurta.

How will this twisted story reach its end? Lewis will decide to help Kurapika retrieve their clan's eyes. Will their opposite lifestyles and dreams go well together? Will Lewis succed to reach the "better version of her soul" and help Kurapika do so? Or maybe they'll both drown in the abyss of loneliness and self sacrifice?

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