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#so when she was born she has a star marking on her forehead. hers is a 5 point star ⭐️ and Vincent’s is 4 point ✨
puppyeared · 11 months
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OOOO I LOVE AUGUSTA'S BACKSTORY!! Can Anton be near her without negative effects? What effects did it have on their child (assuming she birthed him)?
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Anton is like a little cockroach man (/aff) that can’t be killed, so even though he does feel very minor effects of Augusta’s radiation he’s otherwise fine lol. Vincent shares this trait and wouldn’t be affected by her radiation either.
If anything, he would need to rest time to time since her radiation wears peoples bodies down with fatigue & nausea. He could rest in her shadow so he can heal!
If Augusta wears her spacesuit around him it will still dampen her radiation and would feel completely fine.
Anton’s lore is more detailed on his toyhouse page, and you could ask @poicyss any questions about him or her swag ocs ^^
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Vincent was born normally and didn’t suffer any side effects. Although the star only fused and is still stuck to Augusta’s body, only she is radioactive as long as the star is still there
Vincent only inherited her glowing marks and antigravity, but not as strong as her.
Augusta and Lucky are both weredogs which gets passed down to Vincent. He was born as a dog pup as an infant and gained human form as he matured (same happened for Augusta and Lucky)
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dulcesiabits · 1 month
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the sun is also a star.
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summary: Literally just two drabbles of mhin with my oc Li where they try to bring her back to life when she dies because there is nothing sexier than obsession that even death cannot stop!
notes: 2.2k words, necromancy (descriptions of bodies + cleaning bones + emotional aftermath of bringing someone back to life)
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i. I Put Every Bone of Yours Back in Place
There’s a certain clean beauty about bones, Mhin finds, that provide a reassuring and familiar weight to death.
There are 206 bones in an average human body. 80 of those bones make up the axial skeleton, and the remaining 126 bones make up the appendicular skeleton. But what Mhin finds most interesting is that a human is born with 270 bones. Somewhere, during the process of growth and development, those 64 bones are fused with other bones. To change, you must give something up. To live in the world means suffering losses, losses one isn’t even aware of.
Of course, the pages of an anatomical textbook don’t quite capture the reality of a human’s growth. There are always mutations and exceptions. Bones don’t always fuse properly, or someone may simply have been born with extra bones in their hands. It’s difficult to tell if those bones don’t affect the quality of life enough to warrant a checkup with a medical professional. No, it’s only after death that one can gauge the extent of their own deviancy, marked into their very core.
Li, thankfully, only has the average number of bones. Two hundred and six exactly, with no outlying pieces. That makes it easy for them to collect all parts of her. When Mhin lays them on the ground in a facsimile of a human’s shape, they can almost pretend it’s Li again. Her delicate wrist bones, the curve of each rib, the twist of her femur, set in their proper places. She’s beautiful, right down to her skeletal structure.
They wipe their forehead, but all it does is smear grime across their skin: rotten dirt and the faint tinge of death, blood from their own scraped fingers and flesh (from who or what they forget) caught under their nails. It had taken months for them to find her body, months of feverishly patrolling the wastelands, even begging Ais and his disgusting minions for help when weeks of searching turned fruitless. They weren’t above that, not even when their fists tightened at his little smirk. Ais would hold it over their head, they knew.
But all that mattered was that her body was found, monsters and scavengers having already nibbled on every tender part of her, clothing long since reduced to tags and tatters. Her bones shone like stars in the muck. She would be unrecognizable to anyone else, but not to Mhin. There was not a world in which they would not know her.
They had run to her body. Finally, here she was again, and they had fallen to their knees as they picked up her corpse, hugging it to their chest, gore slopping onto their chest, mindless to anything else. It didn’t matter if their shirt stained. It would be better if it stained, if her rotting flesh sunk into the fabric, so they would always carry her with them.
It took time to clean off the bones, too. That was the most exhausting part. To take her body with them into the city in the darkness of the night, to run each part under water, to scrape off all the distended flesh and severed skin without chipping her bones. To gently detangle chunks of yellowing brain matter from the hollow cavity of her skull, watching the flesh fall with a wet slap in the sink. To brush carefully around each opening, which were more delicate and prone to breakage. Through hardened muscle, dead nerves, and congealed blood. To watch the bones pile up, piece by piece, like snowfall, day after day.
Sometimes they had brought her skull to their face, to stare into the eye sockets, the rows of teeth. It was the first piece of her that they had saved. They could feel the memory of her warmth when they closed their eyes, concentrating on how the  flesh that once stretched over her skull felt. Her scarred skin, her callouses, the freckle on her knuckle. 
They pressed their lips to the hollow teeth, where lips should have been. Nothing but the taste of soap and death. Their first kiss, in months. 
She loved to kiss them when she was still around. Mhin would reciprocate begrudgingly, their sour attitude doing little to deter her from throwing her arms around them and peppering their face in kisses. She was like an over eager affectionate puppy, and Mhin had never liked dogs for precisely that reason. But she was an exception, just barely.
The kiss they remembered most had been in her shitty apartment, kneeling in front of each other on faded red cushions. There was a pot of cooling oolong tea in front of them, and Li had found a veil somewhere that she had tossed over her head, just for fun, she claimed. It made her look like a ghost, the lace fluttering over her galaxy of hair.
Wedding rites for their people always involved family, from the little Mhin remembered of matrimonial customs. But neither of them had family left. All they had was each other. So for the tea drinking ceremony, they poured each other cups of steaming tea, raising it to their lips to sip. To honor the only family they had.
There were the three bows, too. But they remembered thinking, even then, that they wouldn’t bow to anyone. Not the uncaring heaven, not their distant ancestors. The only one they would bow to would be to the woman in front of them.
It was an unofficial ceremony. There was no one to proclaim that they now belonged to each other, no city to record whatever they were. But that never mattered. They didn’t need anyone else to prove their relationship was real. 
This had been real. Li, in front of them. The bitter tea lingering on their tongue. The sunlight, filtering across the dusty air, making her holy.
They had pushed back her veil, then, and she had smiled mischievously as she grabbed their hand, before pulling the veil so it fell over both of them instead. A benediction, as soft as snow, covering the world in a gauzy, dream of white as she brought her lips to theirs.
The very night they finish cleaning her bones, they return to the wastelands. And now they are laying her bones down piece by piece, in correct anatomical order. They had studied their own textbooks feverishly, just to ensure they wouldn’t mess up the placement, not at this critical juncture. They count over each bone, an obsessive gesture they’ve repeated throughout the night. 206. 206. 206. All in order, all laid out precisely as it would be if Li was taking a nap with her arms outstretched. 
The moonlight filters down. Soulless call in the distance, but their dagger is ready at their hip. For an instant, Mhin lets themself relax, and bends down to caress Li’s skull again. The intimate parts of her, which no one but them would ever know and understand.
It was thoughtless of her to leave them behind. She had always been a little scatter-brained and clumsy, prone to having the money stolen right out of her pocket despite being a self-proclaimed thief. But this was her worst mistake yet. To die without them. To rest so peacefully, while making them suffer. 
It went against what she always said: that it would just be the two of them, together. And yet she had left them. She had taken on a dangerous job, an escort mission across miles of barren wastelands, soulless at every corner. She had gone out that fateful night, blowing them kisses, promising to return, and then never came home. Hypocrite. How could she do that to them? 
But it was fine. It would be fine, and they could forgive her. They would be together again. Mhin was simply fulfilling the promise they made. Even if she cursed them and cried and begged for peace, they would drag her back down to earth, back to their side. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.
They stare down at her bones again. Resurrection was a forbidden art, but Leander had lent them the proper tools for the ritual, the magic and the spells, like a snake whispering in their ear. Weeks of fruitless searching on their own, and Leander was the only one who could offer them what they needed. They would take whatever hand offered them a way to save her, even if it was from someone like him.
Because they were hers, and she was theirs, and not even death would separate them. They would bring her back, and they would tie her so tightly to them that they would be together in every life after this. 
Mhin took a breath, and spoke the opening words of the spell as the moonlight spilled over Li’s bones, as if she was waiting for them, too.
ii. Even if You Come Back Wrong, You’re Still Mine
“Sorry.” That’s the first word Li spoke to them, with her palms outstretched in front of her, like a scolded puppy. “It fell.”
It’s easy enough to see the bone protruding from her right hand, the finger cupped in her palms. Mhin lets out a short little sigh. Things like this had become common as of late, her body disintegrating bit by bit after the ritual. 
“It’s fine,” they say, gesturing for her to sit. “We can just fix it.”
Li obediently perches on the kitchen chair, and Mhin kneels in front of her, gently taking her broken hand in their own. Her skin is cold, and no amount of rubbing could bring the warmth back into her skin. They had tried, but whatever warmth from their touch her skin absorbed would simply dissipate in a few hours.
They take out the sewing kit from their pocket, a recent benediction from Kuras. When they had tersely asked him for medical supplies, for thick, transparent thread and needles that could puncture skin, Kuras had wordlessly handed them the kit without question. There was never any judgment or pity with Kuras, but his gaze had still seared their skin.
Mhin deftly threads the needle, holding the finger in place, and makes quick, even stitches across Li’s finger. They’re good at delicate work like this, that requires intense concentration and little thought. It’s soothing how the world can always be broken down into patterns and rhythms, into familiar, repetitive motions.
When they’re done, Li stares at her own finger like a stranger.
“Open and close your hand,” Mhin instructs, and she does. The finger moves normally, and they nod.
“Mhin,” Li says, slowly, absently.
“What is it?” they snap, and she only blinks owlishly. Before, she would have shrugged off their complaints as easily as one does water, with a blindly bright and foolish smile. She might have even called them cute.
Li had never been one for quick thinking outside of a fight, but now, her mind seems to move slowly, thoughts struggling to break through the murky surfaces of her own brain. She once worked on instinct and intuition, and now all of her animal senses had been deadened to a dullness that made her stumble where she once would have leaped.
It was as much as what Vere had said, when the bastard had swung by their apartment, ears pricking at the “new amusement” Mhin had been so fixated with that it meant no one in Eridia had seen them outside their apartment in weeks. Vere had deigned to chat with his old gossip partner for a few minutes, but with each dull response of Li’s, Vere’s ears flattened against his head, a sharp, displeasurable scowl on his face. Mhin had then considered slotting their dagger right against his heart when Vere suggested that they should throw away toys that no longer worked. 
Li watched them with blank eyes the entire exchange, in the same way she watches them now. There’s a veil fluttering across her gaze, and if they only knew the right words, the right actions, they could finally reach past it to grasp her hand.
“Your face…” she says, and cups their cheeks with her cool palms. They’re still kneeling in front of her, and she gazes down at them, like a blessing.
“What about it?” They lean into her touch, into the smooth skin of death. 
“You look…” she frowns. “Sad.” Her words are uncertain.
“I’m not.”
“Okay,” she says.
But for a moment more, they can’t move, can’t pull away from her hands, which have always captivated them. “Li, do you remember what we talked about?” Mhin asks curtly.
She tilts her head. “Which conversation?”
They bring their hands to cover hers, trapping her touch in place. “About what we are.”
She nods, and like a pupil reciting a lesson, states, “That we’re always going to be together, no matter what.”
“Right. Just be sure to keep that in mind,” they say. “That’s the one thing you can’t forget.”
“Okay.”
They close their eyes. “You’re here now,” they repeat. “You’re here. You’re right here.”
“I’m here,” she repeats. 
Learned behaviors are just as necessary as innate behaviors. And love is also something that could be learned again, as many times as needed. As long as they kept their hands on hers, then they could believe that the chill of her winter had finally melted away to spring again.
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u10como · 3 months
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"Perils of High Society"
Brooke and Mark were dating for a year now. They met when they were both still college students working at McDonald's and immediately came to like each other. Mark never liked to talk about his family, so Brooke never pushed him too much, until one day he confessed: Mark was actually Marcus Bancroft-Agnelli, the heir to large hotel empire, who decided to handle his own life during studies, not relying on his family fortune. When asked about why he doesn't want Brooke to meet his parents He explained: His family has an odd tradition: All women in the Bancroft-Agnelli family had their arms amputated when they hit puberty, to signify their status of perfect trophy wives: Their bare armless shoulders proudly displaying the fact they never have to resort to manual labour - and never will. "Pretty terrible, right?" said Mark "Actually, " said Brooke, "It's kinda hot, you know?" "A what?" "Can you imagine me without arms? I mean, wouldn't i look really elegant? And if that's what it takes to meet your parents..." "Baby, you don't need to do that, i don't need you to be part of my family, in fact, i don't really want to be part of them myself..." "I know, but... i kinda want to, you know? I don't think i would be very much of a 'trophy wife' anyway, as that sounds a little posh and lazy and i would prefer to learn how to use my feet rather than just stand around being pretty, but i could do without my arms i guess..."
Two months later, Mark and Brooke came to attend a party at one of Bancroft-Agnelli five star hotels. Brooke, still feeling a little clumsy, but proud of her armless shoulders, was overwhelmed by everything around her. Being born in rural area just outside the city, she wasn't used to being anywhere this fancy and nothing Mark told her could prepare her for the reality. Entering the hotel's ballroom, they were aproached by two women: One young, dressed in grey uniform with white gloves, the other about fifty years old, with aura of authority and perceived superiority, dressed in white and gold, the dress showing her perfectly smooth armless shoulders.
"Mom, this is my fiancée, Brooke Miller. Brooke, meet my mother, Beatrice Bancroft-Agnelli" "Pleased to meet you, dear. I see my son finally came to senses and found himself a woman befitting of a proper Bancroft-Agnelli man." said Beatrice to Mark's annoyed eyeroll. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am" said Brooke, twitching her right shoulder in an instinct to accompany the greeting with a handshake." Looking at Brooke's gesture with a mix of surprise and disgust, Beatrice replied: "Oh dear, but look at you, you hold your body like an arm person!" "Mom..." Hissed Mark. "And those scars! Oh my goodness, did a butcher do that to you? I could have refered you to our family surgeon in France, his handiwork is ex-qui-site, you know? He would never leave ugly scars like these behind." "MOM.." said Mark, now significantly louder. "And that make-up, dear oh dear... I would fire that maid who did that to you, such a shoddy job..." "Ahem... Actually," replied Brooke before Mark could interject again, "I did that myself - i mean, it's not perfect, but applying make-up with a foot is harder than i thought..." "You did what?" said Beatrice with overly dramatic expression, her eyebrows so high up they could pop out of her forehead any second. "Oh my lord, sweetheart, you aren't some common working class cripple or..." "MOM! That's enough! Come on, Brooke, we're leaving!" Yelled Mark to his mother's astonishment and put his arm around Brooke's shoulders in a protective gesture, guiding her swiftly away towards the elevator. "I'm sorry, did i say something wrong?" asked Brooke with surprised expression and hint of tears in her eyes. "Not you sweetheart." replied Mark, visibly angry, but keeping his voice down not to upset Brooke even more. "She did!"
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princesssarisa · 2 months
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The next series of Donkeyskin tales from Heidi Ann Heiner's Cinderella Tales from Around the World come from Central and Southeastern Europe: the Czech Republic, Romania, Austria, Croatia, and Serbia.
*In a recurring theme in variants from this part of the world, the heroine was born with a golden star on her forehead, which her mother also has. (Or, in the Austrian tale of Besom-Cast, Brush-Cast, Comb-Cast, it's a golden cross.) After her mother dies, her father refuses to remarry unless he finds a bride with the same mark on her forehead, and when he finds that no one has it except his daughter, he resolves to marry her. A few versions have the variant more common in other countries of "no one but the princess can wear her mother's ring," but the star on the forehead is more common. In one Croatian version, the heroine gives birth to twins in the end, a boy and a girl, and her daughter has a golden star too.
*First on the list is a Czech tale from the collection of Božena Němcová (she of Three Wishes for Cinderella fame): The Princess with the Gold Star on Her Brow, which inspired the 1959 Czech film The Princess with the Golden Star.
**As Heiner points out in a brief introduction to this tale, the 1959 film removes the incest theme, and instead adds a villainous king from another kingdom who wants to marry Princess Lada. But in Němcová's original tale, it's her father who wants to marry her.
**The attempted incest seems faintly more plausible in this version than in others, because Lada's father didn't raise her. Her mother died in childbirth, and like the grandfather in Tattercoats, her father refused ever to look at her. But after many years of traveling the world, searching for a new bride but finding no one who looks enough like his late wife, the king comes home and meets his now-grown daughter for the first time. He sees that she looks just like her mother, and has a golden star on her forehead just like her mother did, so he resolves to marry her.
**Lada requests gowns like the sun, like the moon, and made of gold-crested wrens' feathers, and then, at the advice of her mother's spirit in a dream, she runs away disguised in a mouse skin cloak. From then on, we have the standard story beats: she works as a scullery maid at the prince's castle, attends three balls, is given a ring by the prince, and when the prince falls ill with love for her, she slips the ring into his cup of medicine. Now suspecting her identity, the prince recovers, secretly spies on her, and sees the star on her forehead when she takes her headscarf off to wash her face. In the end, she also reunites with her father, who repents because his wife's spirit rebuked him in a dream, and she forgives him.
*The Romanian variant, The Emperor's Daughter in the Pig Stall, gives the princess gowns of silver, gold, and diamonds, and a coat of louse skin. Her father suspects that she'll try to run away, so he ties one end of a string to her hand and holds the other. But she secretly ties the string to a goat's horn instead. When the emperor pulls the string to summon her, he finds the goat instead, and the princess's nurse (who's in on the plan) convinces him that God has turned his daughter into a goat as punishment for his wicked desire.
*As usual, not all versions include an incestuous father. In one Austrian version, the princess's parents abuse her while favoring her sisters, which drives her to run away. In another, she's just a poor orphan in search of a home, who meets a mysterious green hunter in the woods who shows her a magic oak tree that contains beautiful gowns and gold coins.
*In some of these versions, the heroine's father is a count instead of a king or emperor, while in others, her eventual husband is a count or a lord instead of a prince or king.
*The popular running gag of the prince throwing objects at the disguised heroine, and her alluding to them in her finery, is sometimes included, sometimes omitted. Most notably it's included in a literary Austrian version, Besom-Cast, Brush-Cast, Comb-Cast, where it gives the tale its very name.
**This version also has the unusual detail of giving the heroine, Adelaide, a faithful manservant, Gotthold, who joins her when she runs away, pretending to be her uncle, and settles in a small house near the castle, where he secretly stores her gowns.
*The themes of the three gowns are typically "sun, moon, and stars" or "silk, silver, and gold," though in one Austrian version, they're simply a blue gown, a red gown, and a white gown. She sometimes hides them in nutshells, sometimes in a secret place outside the castle, and sometimes she wears all three of them all the time, with her louse or mouse skin coat over them. (How uncomfortable!)
*Like so many Italian Cinderellas, the Austrian versions have the heroine throw gold coins to distract the prince's servants when she leaves the balls or the church. Austria's shared border with Italy probably led to this common detail.
**One Serbian version, The Devil's Dresses, reads very much like an Italian version as a whole, with the devil helping the father acquire the fantastical clothes his daughter demands, and the heroine disguising herself with a full-body wooden suit. I assume this is explained by Serbia's fairly close proximity to Italy.
*As in so many countries, the prince or young lord typically gives the heroine a ring the third time they meet in her finery. Then, when no one can find her afterwards and he falls ill with longing for her, the heroine sends him broth, milk, or a fried cake, and slips the ring into it. Then he sends for her and she appears wearing one of her gowns, revealing the whole truth.
*One Serbian tale, How an Emperor's Daughter was Turned into a Lamb, is especially odd. To escape from marrying her father, the princess commits suicide, but her father has an enchantress bring her back to life. Then she cuts off her hands to dissuade her father, but he has the enchantress restore them. Finally, she finds a way to turn herself into a lamb, and the spell is unbreakable. So she lives as her father's pet lamb for the rest of her life.
Coming up next: Donkeyskin tales from the Middle East and South Africa.
@ariel-seagull-wings, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland
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cheerclaw · 5 months
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Meet the OCs: Cherrythorn (she/they/he) - @brokentranstar
Warrior of ShadowClan. She was born to a medicine cat father, and ex-kittypet mother. She was apprenticed to the leader, and quickly after that, her father admitted to having sired her and her brother, from that moment on Cherrypaw tried their best to prove their worth to the Clan. Cherrythorn got really ambitious after becoming a full warrior and losing his younger sister. He decided he really wanted to be deputy then, though he had no luck in it, he wanted a good explanation for why he wasn't chosen. She didn't want to believe it simply wasn't meant to be, so when her previous apprentice approached her with complaints about her behavior, she decided that her apprentice was at fault, so she drowned her. Moons later, when they found their father injured, they kept him from calling for help, and waited until he died, believing that he's the reason no one respects them, and blaming him for their mothers death. He eventually became leader by force, but was executed by his own brother, and ended up in the Dark Forest.
Shadowtail (he/him) - @lavadragon
My guy Shadowtail, who was created to be unabashedly edgy. He is a warrior of Rippleclan, a clan who lives in a wheat field near a large pond. The clan was called that because of the way the wind blows across the wheat appears like ripples on water. Shadowtail was born with a star marking on his head, which made his family think that he had been blessed by Starclan and given some epic powers or something. So far it doesn't seem like he as any unusual abilities aside from being a super fast runner and a master of stealth. Although, he does hide a dark secret. He is often tormented by his own shadow.. who seems to come to life when nobody is looking.. The shadow is solid black as shadows typically are, but it still retains the white star on its forehead, and has creepy white eyes. Apart from this, Shadowtail is a devoted and loyal warrior. He doesn't like to smile much, but he's chill.
[Back to the grade]
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dawngen · 8 months
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"Riverstar, don't you ever feel... neglected?"
Enroute to the Fishing Stones, Riverstar paused, glancing over at Oaktooth. The grey tom looked greatly troubled, as evidenced by how the white marking between his eyes was furrowed in thought, and how heather-blue eyes did not quite look at her. He was gazing off into the distance, expression contemplative, and the tortie stopped to listen to him, her fluffy tail swaying.
"How so? I know you certainly aren't neglectful of me."
She bumped his shoulder in teasing, and that seemed to do the trick, even if only for a moment. Chuckling, he nodded his agreement--his bias had been evident long before they became mates--but soon seemed dismal again.
"It isn't any of us I'm talking about, but... Don't you feel like StarClan has been ignoring us lately?"
Ah. Understanding gently warmed Riverstar's expression with concern, and she nudged her head against Oaktooth's shoulder, redirecting him off the paw-beaten path. Following her lead, they came to sit under her mate's namesake. Motioning for Oaktooth to lay down, she joined him among the oak's thick roots, nestling against his warm flank.
Silent for a moment, she drank in the sounds of the forest. The call of newleaf birdsong, the subtle breeze working through the trees, and very distantly, she could hear some of their warriors taking their apprentices out to train.
"... Sometimes, I do," she finally said. "It's hard not to doubt StarClan sometimes when so many terrible things happen, and no higher power intervenes."
Oaktooth hummed his acknowledgement, nodding.
The clan had been feeling uneasy as newleaf went on and more kits were showing up at their camp's entrance. Abandoned by their mothers, one of which brought directly to them with the loner declaring she had no use for a defective child, many fretted over what it meant for the clan. Riverstar had reasoned that StarClan was giving them these kits as a sign, showing the depth of the clan's caring nature, but others worried.
These kits came paralyzed, diseased, sick. Many died within a moon, and rumors had begun to spread that StarClan was punishing them for their kindness by having these dying kits drain their herbs and waste prey that could go to clan-born mouths.
Oaktooth was feeling the division keenly, often having to mediate, and Riverstar felt for him.
"Do you remember that lone she-cat--Quick?"
Oaktooth nodded.
"In her dying breaths, I felt her gratitude. Even if her kits do not survive, she knows they will be in comfort. That is what we represent for these kits--a place they can live out the remainder of their days loved and treated with kindness, whether that be one moon or one hundred."
Looking up, Riverstar peered beyond the thick canopy of leaves to the blue skies. A few clouds drifted by, deepening the dappled shadows that the trees cast with their broad branches, and briefly, one crossed over the sun, causing the sunlight to dim.
"I don't want to believe that being kind and treating cats from all walks of life with care as a punishment. StarClan should recognize that being part of a clan does not separate us from other cats. It shows us how to stay united, and lend aid even to those who may not understand our ways, and those who may end up leaving us."
The clouds parted, and Riverstar shut her eyes, feeling her fur warmed by the rays of sun that split through the canopy.
"We'll keep doing what we do because we know it is right. Even if StarClan is ignoring us, we still have each other--don't we?"
Opening her eyes, warm blue met soft lavender, and Oaktooth nodded, his own gaze crinkling in a smile.
"Yes," he agreed, leaning in and bumping their foreheads together, Riverstar feeling the rumble of his purr vibrate against her fur. "Even if the stars go out, we will have each other."
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arrow90-art · 10 months
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Hello, I'd like to ask 5 and 8 for Rimerock :3
Thank you, Min!!!!
( OMG my eyes were blurry and my brain has holes, I was answering for Blackstar omfg... Merlin's beard I will post for two of them since I already answered. ;;;;;;3 I'm so happy you ask for my old lizard! )
5. Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?
Rimerock has no tattoos! But the corruption left black spiral marks on him and they spread from his chest to all over his body. He hides these marks when polymorph, but they are so obvious in his dragon form that they look terrifying. Also, when the corruption drives him mad, those hidden marks show, whatever forms he takes.
Blackstar has no tattoos. Instead, she was born with a birthmark! It's a star pattern on her forehead that only appears when she's in dragon form. The mark is a brighter ultramarine, and more visible when she was younger. Now it's a dark grayish blue. She doesn't know what it represents. The gold dragon who adopted her named her after this mark. Her real name is Black Star in Draconic.
8. Do they collect anything? If so what and why?
Yes! And I answered here ^^
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nctsona · 6 months
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SONA’S PROFILE
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PERSONAL PROFILE
BIRTH NAME: Shin So-na (신소나)
NICKNAMES: Shina
DATE OF BIRTH: 28 November 2000, 8:52am
PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea
SEX AND GENDER: female woman
PRONOUNS: she/her
ETHNICITY: Korean
NATIONALITY: South Korean
CITIZENSHIP: South Korean
SOCIAL CLASS: upper class
BLOOD TYPE: B
CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN: Dragon (龙/龍)
STAR SIGN: Sagittarius
MBTI: ENFJ
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PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
EYE COLOR: dark brown, almost black
HAIR COLOR: black
HEIGHT: 170cm (5’7’’)
WEIGHT: 52kg (114lbs)
BODY BUILD: hourglass body shape; skinny figure, strong muscles, long legs, wide hips, good posture
SKIN TONE: light medium, neutral undertone
SKIN TYPE: sensitive
FACE SHAPE: heart/oval; small forehead, prominent cheekbones, v-shaped jawline, pointy chin
EYE SHAPE: upturned; double eyelids, aegyosal, thick and long eyelashes
NOSE SHAPE: small, slim nose, high nose bridge, sharp tip, small nose wings
LIP SHAPE: full lips
OTHER NOTICEABLE FEATURES: thick, straight eyebrows
MOLES: right side of the neck, right earlobe
PREDOMINANT FEATURE: eyebrows, nose, face shape
DOMINANT HAND: right
PROCEDURES: skin whitening, rhinoplasty, double eyelid surgery, chin implant, botox
BODY MODIFICATIONS: tattoo (left lower arm), 3 piercings (left ear - 2, right ear - 1)
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CAREER PROFILE
OCCUPATION: K-Pop Idol
STAGE NAME: Sona (소나)
NICKNAMES: Shina, Lucky Girl
FANDOM NAME: NCTzens / shizens
LABEL: SM Entertainment (2013—)
GROUP: NCT (2018—)
SUB-UNITS: NCT U (2018—), NCT DREAM (2018—)
POSITIONS: vocalist, dancer
REPRESENTATIVE COLOR: blue
REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🐵
ROLE MODEL(S):
BEST KNOWN FOR:
being a female member of NCT
extremely stable live vocals
her abs and overall physique
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BACKSTORY
Sona was born on November 28, 2000, in Seoul, South Korea, to her mother Lee Eun-seo and her father Shin Seok-dong. She has two brothers, older and younger, named Sohyuk and Sojun respectively.
Her family is rich. Her father is a CEO of a company producing house furniture and her mother is a restaurant owner.
In 2004, her family moved to Tokyo, Japan, in order for her father to expand his company. Because of that, she grew up bilingual and is fluent in both Korean and Japanese. They lived in Japan until 2012, when they came back to South Korea.
She wanted to become an idol after seeing SHINee’s “Sherlock (Clue + Note)” performance on TV. She asked her dad for singing lessons and she was taking them for a year.
In July 2013, Sona joined SM Entertainment as a trainee after passing the audition.
On July 17, 2014, she was introduced as a member of SM Rookies, a pre-debut team of trainees under SM Entertainment.
On January 30, 2018, SM Entertainment released a video titled 'NCT 2018 Yearbook #1' which introduced Sona as a new member of the group. She officially debuted with NCT on March 14, 2018, with the group's first full album 'NCT 2018 EMPATHY'.
Five months later, in August, SM Entertainment announced that Sona would join NCT's third sub-unit, NCT DREAM. She officially debuted as a member of NCT DREAM with the group's second mini album 'We Go Up' released on September 3, 2018.
Today, Sona is one of the most popular members of NCT DREAM globally and one of the most popular members of NCT in South Korea.
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FACTS / TRIVIA
her name was given by her aunt
she has two brothers, elder born in 1998 and younger born in 2004
she is a dog person
she hates white chocolate
she is very close to her dad
she leads a very healthy lifestyle (as healthy as an idol can)
she is fluent in Korean and Japanese. she also understands basic English and some Mandarin
she doesn’t like to change her hair color because her scalp is healthy and she doesn’t want to destroy it
she has natural leadership skills, therefore she often takes Mark’s role as a leader when he is not with NCT DREAM
she is scared of loneliness the most
hobbies: cooking, traveling, working out
favorite colors: blue and purple
favorite season: spring
favorite numbers: 9, 28
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LEADER CEREMONIES
I’ve stated before why leadership ceremonies include markings. They also have different words and areas as well. How about we describe those differences?
Alderstar
Location:
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Tall, leafless alder tree. Bottom branches are wide. This is where he stands. The cats in the crowd stand/sit in a clearing that it is on the edge of.
It is far from the Eye-out Thorns, but close enough to be within view of them.
Marking:
He does not mark kits becoming apprentices, only apprentices become warriors or healers. 
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His markings come in the shape of thorns, honouring his home and family. It does not matter the direction or where the lines cross, so long as there is an intersection. The long scar represents a branch, and the short one a thorn.
Cats can choose the location on their body, if anywhere at all, they wish to be marked.
Ritual Words:
Warrior/Med Cat ceremony
Welcome, kin and friends. Today, we honour [number] apprentice[s], who defied their fate long ago. Had the Stars had their way, they would have remained small and defenseless. We are not the Stars. We defied them, we defied the logics of death, and we grew. Now, we shall honour the growth, the strength, and the courage in these [number] young cat[s], now ready to become full warriors of the Place of No Stars.
[Name/s], step forward. 
When he gives a cat their name, he starts with, ‘for your resistance against fate,’ and then proceeds to name two traits specific to the individual.
(This repeats if there are multiple cats).
Alder then hops off of the branch and faces the cat[s].
Before he marks them, he asks if they are ready.
After he marks them, he says  ‘you are [a] true warrior[s] now. Let us call out their names, and tell the Stars they have no strength here!’
These are the words spoken for kits and apprentices that had died. For Dark Kits, he says the same thing, only instead of “you would have remained small and defenseless,” he says “you would have never been born.”
Blackstar
Location:
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A long rotting stump in the middle of a dry field. 
On the opposite side of the field is her den, a mound in the ground.
Marking:
Taking after Alderstar, she only marks those who become warriors or healers, not kits becoming apprentices.
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Her marking comes as a “+” cross, representing the leaves on a nettle plant. It honours her warrior name, Blacknettle. 
Cats can choose where the marking may be.
Ritual Words:
Warrior/Med Cat ceremony
Thank you all for attending this ceremony. Every kit born here is a miracle facing against death, every apprentice that grows here a wonder of nature.
[Name], step forward.
[Name], will you continue to thrive and grow, and be the best that you can be for all you wish to be?
(apprentice responds that they do)
Then I, as a once-leader of Shadowclan, give you your warrior/medicine cat name. From this day forward, you shall be known as [name]. I welcome you to the Place of No Stars. May the Star’s light never burn your eyes.
she hops off of the stump, and the scarring ceremony proceeds in silence.
(The crowd chants the new name[s]).
Whitestar
Location:
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The rock is much farther from his den than Blackstar’s or Alderstar’s is to them, but it is walkable. 
It is a pale, flat-topped boulder between thin trees.
Marking:
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His marking is a copy of his own scars on his head. 
Cats cannot choose the location. If they wish to have a marking, it must be on the same spot--on the forehead.
His and Blackstar’s may look similar. Hers looks like a + and his looks like an x that has two twisted legs and a bigger intersecting area.
Ritual Words:
Warrior/Med Cat ceremony
Every word spoken on this day is a moment in history, yet the Clans have no idea about it. We do not need them, we do not need the Stars. We have our friends, our family, our Dark kin, and with them we build. 
[Name], step forward.
Do you promise to help your Dark kin to build an afterlife worth living, to stand for good even in the rot, to fight evil despite it being what many believe to define you?
(apprentice responds that they do)
Then today you shall earn the name life had denied you. You shall be known as [name].
He then hops off of the rock and faces the cat[s]. 
Your marking will resemble my own, placed on your head. Do you wish to receive it?
No matter how the apprentice responds, the ceremony ends with yowling the names[s].
===========================
Black’s words are sort of similar to Alder’s, as is the marking ceremony. This is because she was shocked to hear that cats wished for her to name them and looked to him for advice.
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I also made a post talking about the different symbols the leaders wear. Make sure to check that out!
============================
@wills-woodland-warriors @starfalcon555 @ambitiousauthor @elementaldeityoffood​ @umbranoxs​
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It took me ages but i finished it after like a month
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Tigerclaw's family, part one
Tigerclaw himself is big and extremely tall
He has some scars, but the only one visible on his face is the torn ear
Leaders get a marking on the forehead to resemble a star/diamond when they touch their forehead to the Moonstone at their leader ceremony. Tiger, however, was born with this mark, something he considers a sign of his destiny
He's considered an extremely attractive cat and knows it
Face markings are meant to resemble wings which stand for his ambition
Goldenflower
Another tall cat
Very long and fluffy fur
She's well groomed, but there are some strands on her forehead that can't be tamed
Kinda based on a daffodil
Brambleclaw
tigerclone, obviously
He's a little smaller than his father, but still really tall and buff
Only gets the fluff and the lighter-coloured snout and paws from Goldenflower
Tawnypelt
Torbie because she should look like both of her parents. Also her german name translates to Amberpelt and amber can be all of these colours, it makes perfect sense, it symbolizes her relationship to Tigerclaw, i could go on forever
Built like the rest of her family, but is the least fluffy
Looks mean at all times, whereas the rest of the family has a certain friendliness to them (tigerclaw less so but he has so much handsome privilege it cancels out)
Tabby pattern close to Goldenflower's
Her colours are a little diluted
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wreckofawriter · 3 years
Text
better
pairing: regulus black x evans!reader
word count: 3.3k
warnings: swearing, angst, make out scene
request by: @upchurch-funk
summary: being a muggleborn dating Regulus meant you had to keep it a secret. When your older sister finds out she raises fear of heartbreak in both of you
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    You and your sisters had been born jealous. Petunia turned to envy first as the attention that had been solely given to her was split between two other daughters. She had always been bitter towards you and Lily, never forgiving you for interpreting her perfect young life.  She had taken your things, broken your toys and ripped your clothes trying to punish you for being born and turning her from an only child to the eldest.
    Lily was next when she realised she wasn't the only one who could sprout fire from her fingertips. She had accused you of faking your magic for years, doing everything she could to best you even if she never fully understood her powers herself. Luckily she outgrew this jealous fit and by the time you shared a cabin on your way to Hogwarts she was beaming ear to ear. 
    It was you who was last to realise what the burn in your chest really meant. The feeling came heavy like thick rain drops as you watched your sister fall so effortlessly in love. Each time she gave James a quick hug or leaned onto his shoulder your eyes narrowed, fury irrationally rising in your throat. 
    This wasn’t because you wished James was yours instead. In fact you had considered him an idiot since you met him and would have rather drown yourself than date the loud mouth fool. You were instead jealous of the simplicity of their relationship. Envious of how they could be carefree, how they could dream of picket fences and happy futures. You hated that they could still be stupid kids. How they were given the freedom to make out in hallways and sneak into eachothers dorms with their worst consequence being a slap on the wrist and week of detention. Nothing hurt more than watching your sister live a simple life you knew you never could. 
    You stared across the room locking eyes with Regulus for only a brief moment before his darted away. Charms was dreadfully boring, the lecture practically putting you to sleep, you knew you should have been paying attention, but watching the younger Black perform the spell with ease was far more interesting. The flick of his wrist was an addicting, dull look in his eyes far more attractive than it should have been. He had woken up late that morning, his hair messier than usual. You thought it looked adorable, the way a few strands drooped in front of his lashes. He only got cuter as he blew them from his face with a pout. 
    “You have a staring problem.” Levi muttered from beside you. 
    You rolled your eyes, “Do you ever mind your own business?” 
    “Please, you make your thing for Black everyone's business.” He muttered and you kicked him under the desk. 
    Cussing at you he glared, leaning down to massage his bruising shin. 
    You wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the reveal of your relationship with your “hopeless crush” as he liked to call it. The surprise on his face would have been sweet as honey. 
    Regulus was watching you now as you continued to talk to your desk mate, he had never liked the boy, call it jealousy or anger, something bitter always rose in his throat when he saw you with him. Maybe it was because he knew your life would be so much easier if you had loved him instead. 
    “I don’t get what you see in him anyway.” Levi said, looking across at Regulus whose eyes had quickly retreated back to his parchment. 
    You grew brittle at the statement.
    “I mean I know he's attractive but if it's really about looks why not go for his brother?” He grumbled.
    You scoffed, “Please, Sirius is a piece of work.” 
    “And he isn't? I’m surprised he hasn’t called you a slur yet.” 
    Rage bubbled in your stomach, your chest feeling hot, “Shut up.” 
    Levi was either oblivious to the anger set in your tone or unbothered by it “I mean really y/n, you have a crush on a purist? It's sickening.” 
    You screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the hot tears building behind them. You wanted to scream at him, slap him across the face and shout how Regulus would never do such a thing. You wanted to tell him how wrong he was, make him regret ever speaking such cold words.  But instead you looked away, wiping your tears as they came while your boyfriend sat across the room pretending you didn't exist. 
   
    You were used to it, you knew as a muggleborn dating a pureblood from a family like his would never be easy but the words still stung. That night you sobbed into Regulus’s chest as he held you in your usual hidden courtyard. 
    As your tears soaked through his sweater he felt nothing but the cold grip of guilt. He had never meant to fall in love. He had known it was a mistake the second it had happened. Even now he knew he had been wrong and stupid and naive to let himself feel so deeply for someone he could never truly be with. He would never forgive himself for forcing you into the hellish life he lived with a simple confession. He hated himself every day for it, he didn't deserve to indulge in his emotions knowing it would cause you nothing but pain. He didn't deserve you and he had known that from the start. 
    Yet every night you met, kissing under the pale moon until your lips grew numb. Everynight he found himself falling deeper and deeper into you until you filled his dreams and nightmares alike. So he forced you closer to him, knowing he would cause nothing but hurt. And you were so childishly in love you let him. 
    Later as you lay asleep on his chest, legs tangled beneath a blanket he let his own tears go, silent apologies dripping down his cheek as he tightened his grip on your waist. 
    Lily watched you from where she sat at her table, green eyes narrowed as she tried to read your mind across the dining hall. 
    “Something is definitely off.” She mumbled turning to James who stared at her with a  dopey grin. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said have you?” 
    “How can I when you’re so beautiful?” He murmured back and she scoffed, face darkening.
    Sirius gagged, “You guys are disgusting.” 
    “Christ Black, how old are you?” Lily spoke with the roll of her eyes. 
    He scrunched his nose and pretended to mock her silently only earning a sigh from Remus who sat beside him. 
    “Something is wrong with y/n, I can just feel it.” Lily continued content on ignoring Sirius. 
    “Maybe she's dating that Callahan kid.” James offered. “There’s been tons of rumors.”
    Lily scoffed, “Please, she has told me multiple times she has absolutely no interest in him.” 
    “A few months ago you were telling her you had absolutely no interest in James.” Remus offered not to look up from his book.
    Lily sputtered blushing heavily again, “That is completely different.” 
    “Sure it is.” Remus drawled, eyes peering over the cover at her. 
    Lily furrowed her brow, “But why wouldn’t she tell me? I mean I thought we've always been close.” 
    “Maybe it's not that serious.” Sirius shrugged, “Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something.”
    Lily pulled back in disgust, “Don’t talk about my little sister like that!” she hissed as Remus kicked him under the table.
    “What? She’s almost 17! It's not like she's 12 or something, Godric.” Sirius complained and James threw a spoon at him. 
    “You know if you’re really that curious we could always just check the map.” James said looking over at Lily who was trying to set Sirius on fire with her glare. 
    She considered it for a moment, “Isn’t that kind of..” she paused “intrusive?” 
    He shrugged, “She's your little sister.” 
    The sky was dark that night as you met with Regulus. The moon was new leaving only the blinking stars to light the ground beneath you. 
    You grinned when you saw Regulus leaning against the small statue in the middle of the courtyard. You quickened your pace pulling him into a brief kiss as you met.
    “Hi.” You whispered against his lips and you felt him smile.
    “Hi.” He responded, hands on your waist pulling you closer once again. 
You tasted sweet like the nectar of the gods, soft and tender in his arms. Your hair smelt of pomegranate, your flowery perfume engulfing him. There was nothing more addicting on this world than your lips. 
You both pulled away breathless and grinning stupidly, “Your hair looks so cute like this.” You mumbled running your hands through it and tugging lightly on a curly lock that had fallen down his forehead. 
Regulus practically purred, melting into your touch. He dipped his head low to hide his blush, lips skimming the skin of your neck. 
You giggled as he mumbled a bashful thank you before nipping slightly below your ear. He was always careful to never leave marks that could be seen the following day. You wished he wasn’t. 
You felt his hands on the back of your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your nose in his hair as he walked until your back hit the wall of the castle. You scratched your nails lightly against his scalp and Regulus groaned. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue on your jaw as he pressed you further into the stone. Your legs now wrapped around his waist as he left sloppy kisses on your collar bone. 
It was then you heard the shuffle of footsteps. 
“Regulus.” You whispered and he broke away to look up at you, his lips red and glossy , “I heard someone.” 
He slowly lowered you to your feet, “You sure?” 
You nodded and you both stood silently, ears craning for another sign of life among you. After a minute you sighed, “Sorry, I must have been hearing things.” 
Regulus just shook his head grinning lightly, “ ‘s fine babe.” words slurring, intoxicated by your taste. 
Your lips reconnected, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you began to work on the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie to loosen its knot. But there it was again the soft sound of feet, closer this time. 
You both paused Regulus pulling away leaving your skin feeling cold in his absence. 
“Who’s there?” He demanded into the darkness, wand lit. 
There was no response and you grabbed his hand to pull him back to you. Regulus stood his ground so you leaned into him, lips ghosting against his ear. 
“It's probably just a mouse or somethin’.” You murmured hands coming back to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.
Regulus glanced around once more before looking down at you, “You’re probably right.”  he said before he began to untuck your blouse, hands sliding slowly under it. 
It was that which finally broke Lily, her vision going red. She stepped from beneath the invisibility cloak ignoring James' protests. 
You let out a small yelp as your sister appeared from thin air, Regulus who had his back turned to her immediately drew his wand pushing you lightly behind him. His eyes went wide as he found himself inches from your older sister. It was your turn to pull Regulus behind you. 
“Lily, What in bloody hell are you doing here?” 
When James sheepishly appeared as well you gasped, “What is wrong with you both, are you stalking me?” 
Lily looked stern, her arms crossed, “Why are you with him?” she seethed.
Your eyes narrowed, “None of your fucking buissnes. Now take your dog and leave.” 
Regulus almost didn't believe it was you that was talking. He wasn’t accustomed to the harsh tone you used, your anger hardly ever directed at him. 
“This is most certainly my business!” She spoke shrilly. 
“It is most certainly not. Now get out.” You shouted.
“How can you expect me to leave when you're getting all touchy feely with a purist?” She hissed, grabbing at your wrist to pull you away from the boy behind you.    You slapped her away so hard the sound echoed off the walls, “Call him that again around me and you’ll fucking regret it.” You growled. 
Lily stepped back surprised by your sudden aggression but not backing down, “Please y/n, I’m just calling it as it. The sooner you realise that the better.” 
Regulus felt his throat tighten as he listened, teeth biting into his lip as he had nowhere to look but his feet. 
    You stepped closer to your sister inches from her face, “Leave.” your voice struck heavy. 
    Lily responded just as harshly, “No.” 
    James shifted behind his girlfriend feeling like he was intruding on the fight which was taking place. Sensing his awkwardness you looked back at him with a searing gaze. 
    “Get out Potter, you have no place here.” You spat.
    He was planning on shuffling away when Lily turned back to him angrily, “No James stay.” 
You scoffed as he did as he was told, “Fucking pet.” 
“Don’t speak to him like that.” Lily scolded. 
“You're the one who's calling my boyfriend a purist.” You growled your mouth bitter at the taste of hypocrisy.
“Because he is one!” She bit back. “You really think he actually loves you after being raised how he was? With a mother like his?” 
Regulus felt like he had been slapped, his cheek stinging as the older girl spoke. 
 “Don’t you dare bring up his mother.”  You were shaking with rage by now, your face streaked with angry tears, “And how dare you speak ill of Regulus simply because of his upbringing as if his brother isn't one of your closest friends. How do you think Sirius would feel hearing what you just said?” 
This took Lily back a step, her rage cooling a bit as she realised her mistake, “It’s different,” She tried to recover, “He isn't with his family anymore. Sirius has already broken away from them. He made the choice any good person would.” 
Regulus felt her eyes on him as she spoke. She was no longer interested in her sister and instead focused on him. He felt like he was choking under the pressure of her stare. When he glanced up to meet her gaze he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen such hatred in a long time.
Your lashes were thick with tears by now, disgust and fury morphing your face, “Go fuck yourself Lily.” You spat.
She ignored you, gaze locked on Regulus, she had no intention of speaking to you anymore, “You stay away from her.” she demanded, “If you truly love her you stay away from her.”
You shouted lunging forwards and shoving your sister backwards. She stumbled back catching herself. 
It was you who fell, your feet tangling, forcing you to the ground. You hit hard, hands and knees scraping against stones and moss which made up the floor. You couldn’t find it in you to stand up simply letting exhaustion and misery take you where you lay. You shook with sobs, voice cracked and raw. Lily immediately dropped beside you, hands circling your neck as she drew you into a hug. You fought her as you always did but she held on, letting you beat her chest with your fists until you stilled.
Regulus took a step forward but was stopped by your sister whose glare told him everything he needed to know. Tears pricking his own eyes he stumbled past the two of you and disappeared into the darkness of the dungeons. He didn't hear James shout for him over the sound of the ring in his ears. He wasn’t sure where he ended up, somewhere deep in the depths of the sprawling castle, dust coated the staircase he collapsed onto. Only there did he let himself cry, choking sobs rubbing his throat raw as he looked for someone to blame. His mother for forcing him into the terrifying world of dark magic? His brother for abandoning him in his abusive home? Or your sister for pointing out the truth he prayed you would never see? Regulus wished he could pass the blame off to anyone but he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had no one to hate but himself. 
Regulus disappeared entirely for three days. Three days you spent desperately avoiding your sister who seemed just as adamant to talk to you again. You skipped meals opting for hunger instead risking meeting her in the hall. She would show up outside your classes forcing you to scramble out the back way or sprint away like a child running from punishment. 
On the fourth day of your boyfriend's absence you felt yourself beginning to panic. Fear of him never returning, filling your head with irrational thoughts. It wasn’t like you could ask around for him, your relationship needed to remain secret despite the difficulties you were facing. It was then Lily cornered you. 
You stared at the redhead as she blocked your only exit. “Lily, move.” You sighed exhausted by the past few days, sleepless nights not improving your condition. 
She didn't listen, “Y/n we need to talk.” 
"About what?" You scoffed, "I have nothing to say to you.” 
“I just want you to understand why I,” She paused, “Why I said what I did.” 
“I don't care why you said it Lily.” You said, “I don’t care if you think you were protecting me or saving me from some hopeless relationship. I honestly don’t care.” 
Her eyes swelled, “How can you say that? How can you not care? I love you y/n I just want you to be safe.” 
You stared at her, “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just let me be happy.”
“He’s dangerous.” 
You shook your head, “No, his family is dangerous. His situation is dangerous. He’s not.” 
“Y/n please.” She begged, for what you did not know. 
“Just stay out of my shit Lily.” you mumbled pushing past her and back into the hallway. 
You spent the night where you always had, the small courtyard hidden between two towers of the castle, a statue of a woman draped in vines and flowers at its center. The moon was a small sliver, a dusting of clouds blocking the stars from your view. The shuffle of footsteps brought your eyes from the ground. 
There stood Regulus, his face shining in the pale light. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose pointed at the floor as he refused to meet your gaze. 
You stood quickly throwing your hands around his neck. He leaned into your touch burying his head into your shoulder as his hands found your waist. 
You smelled delightful as always, your lips soft against his cheek and hands in his hair. Regulus hadn’t realized he was crying until you began to comfort him. Sweet words whispered into his ear as you only held him tighter. 
“She’s right, you know.” He croaked, lifting his head to look at you. “You shouldn’t be around me.” 
You shook your head feverishly, “You’re wrong Reggy.”
“I don’t deserve you y/n, I don’t deserve to be with you.” He sobbed, “I could never deserve you.” 
“You’re right, love.” You mumbled, smiling through the tears that coated your cheeks, “You deserve so much better.” 
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
taglist:@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @suseptiable-bur-siriusexual @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @rosieweasleyy @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys
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sokkastyles · 2 years
Text
Zutara Month Day 8: Chief Katara
Hakoda passes in his sleep in the snow hut Katara had built for him. The snowfall is soft and light, the sun reflecting off the white-blanketed ground making everything seem brighter, as if the world were spirit-touched. Perhaps it is, on this day.
Grief in the Southern Water Tribe is a public affair. Her people believe that it is not right to keep these things unexpressed. But Katara is so used to living with grief, that silent companion. There was no room for expressions of grief when her mother died. Just because things are different now doesn’t change the guilt of it, and it seems wrong to her that she should cry for her father in a time of peace, when the sun is shining and reflecting off the snow, at a time when the world should be brighter.
Sokka had gone off to rebuild Kyoshi Island with Suki, and then there were other things to do. Engineering school in the Earth Kingdom, technological wonders to discover forged by the newly allied Earth and Fire. They were going to change the world, her brother said.
It is changed already.
Yet so much is still the same. The same grief sits within her heart, although there is room for much more there, now. More than what that lonely girl could handle, back then. There is joy, and love, and hope.
Zuko never sheds a tear. Whereas Katara’s heart is awash with her grief, the same emotion in Zuko sits like a stone. She can see it in his face, the way he schools his expression, a tactic he’d learned in childhood.
Katara does everything she can to make herself busy, including taking up the mantle that her father’s absence left. There is no time for grief when there is work to be done.
It’s Zuko who visits the stone where her father’s body lies buried, every day of the prescribed mourning period. Her husband who she has never seen cry, whose own father burned and scorned him. She sees him standing on the horizon with the mourners, sometimes kneeling among them, into the day and after the stars come out. From a distance, she hears his voice leading them in prayer for her father’s spirit, performing the rituals as if he were born to them.
He does it for her, she realizes. Not only because he loved Hakoda - for there will always be that part of her husband that clings to a father. She suspects the real reason lies in those moments, when he comes in from the cold to find her in council, or writing letters to the North or the Earth King (bearing her seal, the mark of the brave) to gently kiss her on the forehead and say, with a smile, “How are we going to save the world today, Chief?”
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littlewolfo · 2 years
Text
Star's Chosen AU
this has been rotating in my mind for a long time-
ok so
each of the two "Chosen" litters (holly, jay, lion & ivy, dove) are born with star markings. I'm calling it the star's chosen au
Jayfeather has a star on his forehead to symbolise his "third eye" and how he can sense emotions and read minds. When he's using his power, his forehead will hurt, and the further he goes, the more it hurts. When he saved Poppypaw from StarClan, he had migraines for months afterward. after the great battle it fractured and split in two.
Lionblaze has a star on his chest, which is like his strength over battles. Whenever he won a battle he got chest pains. after the great battle it split into two.
Hollyleaf had a star over her eye. This star symbolises her blindness to everything but StarClan and the code. whenever she thought about her powers, she went half-blind. After she went into the tunnels, she tried to gouge the star out, in a kind of blind rage against StarClan, the warrior code and her family. she now has edgy scars all over her eye. She and Ivypool are good friends.
Ivypool has a star on her tail, which represents how she will leave the stars behind her as she trains in the dark forest. When she was training, another cat ripped half of her tail (the bit with the star) completely off. after the great battle she got a star on her forehead (hard to see in the picture) bc she used her smarts rather than her claws. van Ivypool supremacy.
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Dovewing had stars on her ears (duh). they were how she could hear and see. When she was a kit, before she started using her powers, Dovekit had golden eyes, and the use of her powers turned them blue. After the great battle and loss of her powers, her eyes turned green (blue+gold). whenever she finished using her powers, Dovewing became near deaf and blind.
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hi! i love your blog! i was wondering if maybe you could write something where y/n and harry just had their first baby and they finally get some time to themselves and she's a little insecure about their first time after the post partum and nervous about her body or how it gonna feels like? thank uu💖
omg thank you 🥺🥺 I'm so sorry this took so long! i hope you like it :)
a very romantic bath for two
warnings: body insecurity, body image issues
word count: 2.8k
You sighed as you inspected your body in the mirror, running your fingers over the raised lines on your tummy and hips. Many of them were new; they had popped up sometime during your second trimester. At the time, you had been too busy worrying about the new life growing inside you and preparing to bring her home to focus too much on what was happening to your body. Even during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you felt huge most of the time, Harry made sure to remind you constantly how much he loved you and your new body. He would rub your belly all the time, leaning down to kiss it and talk to your baby. He insisted it would help them develop faster once they were born, but you weren't quite sure where he got this "fact". You both knew he just liked being close to you and your baby.
He really hadn't left any room for you to be insecure during your pregnancy. He reassured you every day that you were more beautiful than ever, and he was always showing you how much he liked your new body. He could never keep his hands off you, always wanting to touch and hold you. It even got annoying at times, but mostly you appreciated it, and you were glad he never let your hormones get the best of you. Then, after Stevie was born, you were too busy and exhausted to even think about your appearance. You and harry were barely getting any sleep, and all of your time was devoted to caring for the newest member of your family. It wasn't until now, when Stevie was a little over 3 months old, that things started calming down a bit. She slept through the night most of the time, and you were finally coming out of that sleep deprived haze you had been in. Unfortunately, this gave you time to really look at yourself in the mirror. You had just gotten out of the shower, and Harry was with Stevie in the living room. You tilted to the side, looking at how much bigger your stomach was than before you had Stevie. The skin there was dimpled and soft, much more squishy than it used to be. And the stretch marks. They were everywhere, and much more prominent than they had ever been. You weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back to normal. Your negative thoughts were interrupted by a short knock on the door. You quickly wrapped a towel around yourself before you called, "You can come in!" Harry peaked his head into the room, smiling softly. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm out of wipes. I think there's another pack under the sink?" "No, it's okay, i was done," you smiled, reaching under the sink to grab the package. "Is she okay?" "She's fine, lovie," he smiled softly. "You don't have to feel bad being away for her for half an hour." "I know," you sighed. "But i still do. I hate not being next to her all the time." "Me too, i just want to hold her and never put her down." You nodded, sighing internally at how much you already missed your baby. "Why don't you finish up in here and then we'll make some lunch?" "Sounds good," you said, smiling at him in the mirror. Once the door was closed, you dropped the towel again. You really tried not to be too upset about how you looked, but it was hard. You knew if you told Harry he would just say the same thing, that it was normal and he thought you were beautiful. You didn't think that would help much. So you pulled on your old t-shirt and sweatpants, running a brush through your wet hair before making your way out to the kitchen. "Hi, baby," you smiled, picking Stevie up from the play mat on the floor. "I missed you." She snuggled against your chest, her head leaning on your shoulder as she let out a content little sigh. You leaned down, grabbing Stevie's rattle and putting it back in the toy box before you made your way into the kitchen. "How does spaghetti sound?" Harry asked. "Sounds good," you nodded, settling into one of the chairs at the dining table. you were about to pull off your shirt to feed Stevie, but the image of your prominent stretch marks made you reconsider. "Can you grab me one of the blankets?" You asked, but kept your eyes on Stevie. You knew if you looked up, you would see that sad and confused look on his face as he wondered why you suddenly wanted to cover yourself around him, and you really didn't feel like explaining your newfound insecurities right now. Thankfully, he didn't press for answers. "Sure, love. It's in the nursery?" You nodded, fiddling with the collar of Stevie's onesie to look busy. "Okay, I'll be right back," He gave a small smile before he left the kitchen. "What am i gonna do, hm?" You asked Stevie. She just blinked in response. Harry came back with the blanket, draping it over your shoulders from the front. "Thank you," you said quietly, adjusting the cover so you could pull your shirt up. "Of course, love," he replied, going back to the stove. "I wanted to ask you something, actually." You
hummed questioningly, eyes fixed on Stevie under the blanket. "Well, we just haven't had any time alone since Stevie was born, and my mum is dying to spend some more time with her, so do you think... I mean, only if it's okay with you, maybe we could have my mum take her for the weekend?" You hesitated, your heart suddenly beating much faster. Being away from Stevie for more than a day... of course you knew she would be safe and happy with Anne, but still... the thought made anxiety spike in your chest. Then there was the matter of being alone with Harry. You probably should feel guilty for not wanting to spend time with him, but with the way you had been feeling about yourself lately, you couldn't bring yourself to care. But you also knew refusing this would cause all sorts of problems. It would make both Harry and Anne feel bad, and you really didn't want to upset anyone. So, taking a shaky breath in, you nodded. "We can do that. I just... i don't think I can do more than a day or two." "That's totally fine," Harry reassured you. "I don't want to be away from her for that long either. I was thinking we could drop her off Friday after lunch, then pick her up Saturday evening. Or sometime Sunday if they're really having a good time," he laughed. "They'll have all sorts of fun together, mum might not want to let her go so soon." You smiled at the thought of the pictures you knew Anne would send you. Stevie and her in the garden, Stevie in the stroller as they went for a walk, Stevie in the high chair while Anne baked cookies. "Okay. After supper we can get her stuff together." Harry beamed, coming over to kiss your forehead. "Thank you, baby. And if it gets to be too much, we can pick her up early. We can do whatever you need, okay?" Despite Harry's constant reassurance, you felt no less anxious the next day. You checked and re-checked Stevie's bag, making sure she had enough clothes to last her a week. "Lovie, she's only gonna be there for two days," Harry reminded you gently. "No, I know, but what if she spits up a lot? Sometimes she spits up a whole bunch and then she'll need to be changed, and what if-" "Hey, hey," he cut you off, placing his hands on your shoulders and speaking in a soothing tone. "It'll be alright. She's gonna be fine. She has enough clothes, and everything is gonna be okay." You nodded, taking a deep breath as you looked into his eyes. "Right. She's gonna be fine."
-----
"And the milk is here-" you held up several plastic bags- "I'll put this in the fridge. And to heat it up- wait, you already know how to heat up milk," you laughed nervously. "Um, and her onesies are all in the backpack. I have extras in there- a lot of extras, because sometimes she spits up a lot. And then her diffuser is in there too- we usually put a few drops of lavender oil in there, it helps her sleep. And diapers and wipes and diaper cream are all in the bag, and... oh! Her stuffed bunny. It helps her calm down if she's fussy. And I think... that should be everything," You exhaled, trying to smile at Anne. Harry put his arm around your waist. "Y/N, she knows how to take care of a baby. Look how well i turned out!" Despite how nervous you were, you managed to laugh. "Right. I'm just... I'm sorry, I've never been away from her." "It's alright," Anne smiled reassuringly. "I understand how scary it is to be away from her for the first time. But you can call or FaceTime, or if it's too much you can come pick her up." "Thank you," you sighed. "We should probably get going before i change my mind." Harry nodded, unbuckling Stevie from her carrier. He hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. "I'll miss you so much," he said. "But you'll have so much fun with your grandma. And we'll see you soon, okay?" he kissed her one more time before handing her over to you. "Be good for your grandma, okay? I love you," you kissed her just like Harry had. "I love you so much." Before you could start crying, you handed her to Anne. "Thank you so much for this, Anne," you said. "We really appreciate it." "You're a godsend," harry agreed. "Thank you." "Of course, I'm happy to have her," Anne smiled. "Now shoo, so i can spend some time with her!"
-----
"It's so quiet," Harry said as you walked into the house. "I'm not used to it." "I know," You laughed. "There's no cartoons or baby shark, it's crazy." "Can't say I miss baby shark, though," he shook his head. "I think we need to find a new song for her." You nodded. "It got old really fast." "It did," he laughed. "And now... we can enjoy some peace... and quiet." He stepped closer to you, smiling as he heard your breath hitch. "I was thinking maybe we could have a bath together?" Your heart started thudding faster in your chest, and not for a good reason. "No," you said quickly. Too quickly. Hurt and confusion flashed across his face, and you immediately wanted to take back your words. "I just- I can't," you said quietly, stepping back. "Is there... did something happen?" he asked gently, eyes softening when he realized how close to tears you were. "What's the matter, love?" "Harry, I just can't," you shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm trying but I just can't get back to normal. I look terrible and I have all these stretch marks and everything is just wrong," you cried, bringing up your hands to cover your face. "Baby..." he whispered, moving closer and opening his arms. "Come here." You did as he asked, walking into his arms and leaning against him as you cried. "I just don't want you to see me," you sniffled. "Your body isn't wrong," he shook his head. "Not at all. It might look different than it did before, but that's because it went through something amazing. It gave us Stevie! It- you are perfect. Alright?" You nodded against his chest. "I just... i really don't like the way i look anymore and i don't think you will either." Since your face was pressed against his shirt, you didn't see the way his face dropped. You didn't see how much it hurt him to hear you talk about yourself this way. You felt him inhale a shaky breath before he hugged you tighter. "I'm so sorry you feel this way. I had no idea how much it was bothering you. I want- I want to show you how much I love you. Will you let me show you?" "How?" you said quietly. "Do you trust me?" You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He smiled, pulling back and taking your hand. He lead you into your bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you. He crossed the room to stand in front of you again, his fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. "Can i take this off?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. He must have sensed your hesitancy, because he dropped his hands down to his sides. "It's just me," he reminded you. "We don't have to if you don't want to, though." "No, it's... it's okay," You decided, raising your arms. He smiled gently, tugging the soft material up and over your head. You kept your eyes on him as soon as the shirt was off your head, too apprehensive to look down at your body. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. He hooked his fingers in the elastic of your sweatpants, looking at you again for confirmation. You nodded, allowing him to pull the rest of the clothing off your body and taking his hand to step out of them. He lead you over to the bed, keeping his eyes on yours the whole way. "Lay back," he instructed quietly, watching as you did what he said. He climbed into the bed behind you, settling himself between your legs to meet your eyes. "You're amazing," he smiled. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." he brought his hand down to your stomach, and you cringed immediately when he brushed over one of the marks. "It's okay," he soothed. "There's nothing wrong with these. You know what they are?" You shook your head. "They're little marks that remind us of Stevie. They show how strong you are for carrying her, and keeping her safe until she was ready to come out and meet us. And they show how someday, you'll be able to have another baby, and keep him or her safe just like Stevie. Right? That's all they are." He moved down, leaning his head closer so he could press a soft kiss to one of the marks near your hip. "I don't want you to change anything
about yourself," he said, moving his lips over the lines on your tummy. "I love you just the way you are." Tears were welling up in your eyes again, but this time they weren't from anxiety or fear. This time, they were because you felt overwhelmed by your love for him. "Harry..." He looked up, his face falling when he noticed the tears in your eyes. "No, please don't cry," he said, moving back up to hover over you again. "I'm sorry, please don't be upset," he frowned, wiping one of the tears away with his thumb. You shook your head. "That's not why- i just love you so much," you said, trying your best to smile. "I love you too," he smiled back, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. "I love you so, so much, and I will show you every day if you'll let me," he sighed, moving off you to lay on his side. He kept one hand on your hip, helping you turn over to look at him. "I want you to tell me if you're ever feeling like this again, okay? I want to know so I can help you." "Okay," you nodded, still sniffling a bit. "Thank you." You leaned against him, tucking your head in his neck. "Thank you." "Of course, lovie." He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. "I want you to always know how loved you are. It doesn't matter how many times I have to remind you; i don't ever want you to feel like this and not tell me. I love you way too much to let you be this sad." "I will," you promised. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." "it's okay," he soothed, running his hand up and down your back. "Do you think... it's okay if you're not ready yet, but do you think we could try taking a bath?" This time, you barely even hesitated before answering. "I think we can try," you nodded. "We can even turn off the lights if you want, just light a few candles," he mused, his face pressed gently against your hair. "It's more romantic that way anyways." "That sounds good," you laughed. "Come on then," he said, sitting up. "One very romantic bath for two, coming right up."
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innocence - 39
PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader
WARNINGS: none
A/N: boy, did i take a lot of time to post this but it’s the last one and i am on the ground crying. thank you so much for supporting this work. i am so lucky for having all of you xx
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Bucky woke up with an odd cold feeling in the spot where Y/N usually used to lie. He rubbed the sleep of his eyes, hand roaming around the bed to find her hot body but nothing; he was alone in bed. He groaned, moving out of the bed as he kicked into protective mode. She shouldn’t be up this early at least not after he’d kept her up all night and if she was awake, it could be for no good reason. His hand blindly found the door as the other looked for something to wear so he wouldn’t walk full on commando in the living room and scare the neighbour who lived in the building next to his. Opening the door, he found her surrounded by papers, her laptop laying on top of her legs, glasses slightly and slowly sliding down the bridge of her nose. Bucky leaned against the door ledge, a stupid lovesick smirk on his lips as he examined her. Somehow, she had managed to find her underwear, the cutest little white, blue and pink corset and matching panties covered by a white dressing gown which just looked delightfully sinful with his hickeys and bite marks spread across her tender skin. He shouldn’t feel so cocky about marking her, yet the mere sight of it woke up an ego like pride which made him want to show her around to everyone who’d bother look. Yet, another part of him wanted to keep her all to himself. Obviously he knew he couldn’t, she was more of the world than she was of him and he would always be madly in love with her no matter what.
    - Mrs. Barnes, you are interrupting our honeymoon period. - he joked, walking behind the couch to kiss her temple. - What are you doing up at 5AM? Are you gonna go on a run with me? 
    - I’m just looking at my contract. - she closed her laptop with a sigh. - Iron clad contract, can’t believe I signed it. 
    - Princess, it was your first agency. You couldn’t have possibly known.
    - My dad is a lawyer, my siblings are lawyers, my grandparents were lawyers. How did I let this happen? Why didn’t I haggle? Why don’t we have a prenup?
   - Your mum is a chef, maybe you took after her. - he joked more to himself than to her. - Also what does a prenup has to do with it? Are you planning on divorcing me already?
   - When I sent the contract over to my dad he asked if I had gotten a prenup when I got married and I know he likes you but he kept yapping about a prenup and how smart women get prenups and I can’t believe I don’t have a prenup and that I signed this contract. - she spoke as fast as a freight train, not even taking a slight break. Bucky noticed the tea cup by her side which, judging by her quick speak, probably wasn’t filled with tea.
   - Princess, did you have some of my coffee?
   - I did, I needed to be awake. 
   - It’s extra strong coffee, doll. You barely drink coffee, it can’t possibly be ... uhm ...
   - I am jittery. - she interrupted him. - I’ve read this a thousand times and unless another agency fights my agency for a contract with me, I am stuck on ensemble for the rest of my life and it’s not like agencies are fighting for good old me.
   - Okay ... - he took her laptop away from her placing it somewhere on the ground before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her on top of his lap. She leaned her head against his chest, cuddling against his still warm torso from the heat int he bedroom. - Listen princess, you need to take your mind out of that. It’s no use re-reading that contract over and over again.
   - My career is over and I’m not good at anything else.
   - Your career is not over. - his hand caressed her shoulder, pulling her hair away from it before placing a small kiss to her shoulder. She merely cuddled against him, those contract words tattooed on her mind. - There’s no way that contract is legal after he’s charged with harassing you, princess. You just need to relax now. 
   - I don’t know.
   - Let’s go to Florence. - he bite her shoulder playfully. - Let’s go. What’s stopping us?
   - I don’t know ... we can’t go.
   - Don’t make me use the husband card. - he pointed at her playfully. - You’re not gonna want to be here during his trial anyway, precious. 
   - Maybe you’re right. - she leaned onto him, her arms wrapping against his torso. - You really think I’m not over?
   - I would never let that happen, would I? 
10 years later
Bucky felt the sun kiss his skin, the early yet soft wind of March passing by the quiet streets of London as he walked down the street in dark jeans and a equally dark blue henley. He stood by the little white building, sunglasses on as the bell rang and suddenly the boast of laughter erupted from inside the building followed by thousands of little legs running outside. He remained stoic until his smile pulled slightly up as between so many children, he spotted the thick brown curls of his daughter who rushed down the stairs in her little uniform and ladybug bag. She stopped at the bottom off the stairs, looking around until she spotted her dad. A smile, identical to her father’s, formed in her face as she rushed towards Bucky with open arms. He pretended to step back as she collided against him, before pulling her up and kissing her cheek. The 4 year old giggled, her arms wrapping around her dad’s neck as he walked away from her nursery. 
    - We learned about the letters in our names today, daddy! - she started to relate what she had happened during her day immediately after they were far away from the crowd.
    - No way, ladybug. 
    - Yeah. My name has a B, just like yours, daddy. - Bucky knew he should tell his daughter at some point that his name was not Bucky and that it was merely a nickname but he couldn’t bear tell her. She just looked so happy. 
    - Thank god we match, right ladybug?
She nodded her head, cuddling against her dad as he continued to walk in the affluent area of London. The weather was nice, a good omen for the big event of the evening. He was so proud as he saw the theatre walls with a photo of his wife, her name printed with the label Tony Award Winner under it. She deserved it, she deserved it so much and he could not even express in words how proud he was of her. The move back to her hometown had been a difficult one but seeing everything going right, seeing how happy she was ... god, he could swell up with pride. 
He went around the theatre, finding the backstage door and entering it. His daughter jumped off, little eyes looking around with so much wonder. He was almost sure she’d end up like his mother, a little star. The orchestra tuning could be heard from the walls, people and cast were running around preparing for the opening night. Blair held up his hand, pushing him through the crowd and up the stairs where the dressing rooms were.
  - Mumma! - she walked into her mother’s opened dressing room. Y/N dropped whatever she was doing to go hug her daughter, immediately preparing her with lipstick stained kisses. - Mumma, my name has a B like daddy.
  - No way. - she smiled, leaning her forehead against hers. - Ain’t daddy a lucky man?
  - Daddy is a lucky man, alright. - he chuckled, walking up to his two girls. - You look precious, princess.
  - I’m nervous. - he muttered towards her husband, who merely smiled before kissing her. - I’m serious.
  - Well, every time you tell me you’re nervous, something great happens, doesn’t it? - he looked at his daughter; the last time she had told him she was nervous was before Blair was born. - Me and Blair are gonna be there, watching you be splendid. 
  - I wanna go see Chuck. - Blair jumped away from his mother too, running to the next door dressing room and leaving the two lovers alone in the dressing room covered in red flowers, all curtesy of Bucky. The minute he had the theatre address, he started sending roses, lilies and even more every single day. 
  - Wish me luck? - she put her hands on top of his shoulders, almost slowly dancing with him.
  - You don’t need any luck. You’re always perfect.
  - You’re extremely biased, Mr. Barnes. 
  - No, I just have an extremely talented wife, Mrs. Barnes. 
  - 5 minute call. - the voice came through the voice on the speaker.
  - Love me even if I fail? 
  - Love you ‘til the end of time. 
taglist: @disasterbi​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​ @buckyswillow​​
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forever-rogue · 3 years
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Camisado 1/2
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A/N: Hey, hi, hello! Here is first part my little Frankie Royalty AU, written for @its--fandom--darling ‘s follower celebration. The second part will be here soon, but for now enjoy some pain and angst!
Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: language, angst
PART 2
MASTERLIST
FRANKIE MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Francisco?” your voice was low and gentle as you stepped into kitchens and scanned the room for any sign of life. A frown crossed your features when you thought he might not be here at all, but he quickly popped up from behind the counters with a smile gracing his features and a dusting of flour on his nose.
“Hello there,” he beamed as you bounced over to him, quickly reaching up and wiping the flour away before kissing his nose.
“Hello there,” you repeated, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was there before pulling him in for a quick kiss, “I’ve missed you.”
"Feeling cheeky today, Princess?" Frankie's hands found your face as he pulled you closer to him and stole a handful of kisses. You were left breathless and yearning for more as eagerly grinned at him. He stopped for a moment and studied you gently playing with a lock of your hair, in awe of your beauty as always, "you are so beautiful, my love."
"And just who is feeling cheeky now, sweet Francisco?" you teased, running a hand through his dark curls as his hands found purchase on your waist. You giggled as he picked you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. He grinned as he pressed his forehead against yours.
"I think its you, Princess. Coming in here and openly kissing the kitchen boy?" he asked before kissing along your jaw and down your neck, causing you to bite back a moan, "so brazen. Where anyone could see us...my oh my."
"Shut up," you pulled him back to your lips, "its because I happen to be in love with you, you absolute fool!"
“Are you?” he must have been feeling extra cheeky because he slowly started to lift your skirts and trailed a hand along your calf, a juxtaposition of calloused hands and delicate skin as he kissed you till you were breathless, “I happen to be in love with you too, Princess.”
“Call me by my name,” you whispered in his ear, knowing there was nothing better than hearing it slip from his tongue. There was no need for formalities when it was just the two of you, there was no barrier, no difference, just two people in love, “please.”
And then it came forth, delicate and gentle as he trailed his lips along your neck, stopping just before the shell of your ear. He nipped lightly at the soft skin, making sure to leave no marks; if any were seen you’d both be dead. One day, you’d always promised, one day he could mark you as he pleased for the world to see, to let everyone know you were his. But he was no fool - he knew one day would never come, despite your honeyed words and saccharine promises. He was a servant, no more, no less, and you were a princess, everything he was not. 
But he did love you, truly, deeply, and completely, and you loved him. That was no lie - but you could never be together. It was just...the way the world worked. People like Francisco Morales didn’t get the opportunity to be with royalty. People like yourself were not allowed the liberty of love and choosing your own happiness and destiny.
“Francisco,” it was a heady whisper as you started to tug at his shirt, slowly un-tucking it from the waistband of his trousers. His hands were roaming your frame as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in him.
Before it could get any further, you heard your name shouted from afar. Both of you froze immediately, a sense of terror bubbling up inside as Frankie pulled back and you hopped off the counter and straightened your skirts while he tucked his shirt back in. Deft hands help to smooth your hair back into place as you both took a few steps apart to appear as if you had been engaging in polite conversation, rather than about to have one another on the kitchen counter.
“Princess!” you rolled your eyes dramatically at Frankie before he shot you a quick wink as your father’s guard stormed into the kitchen.
“Calm down,” you huffed with a sigh that you didn’t even bother to cover up as you waved him off, “no need to alert the cavalry, I’m right here.”
“What are you doing in the kitchens?”
“I fancied a snack,” you lied, reaching for an apple in the bowl that was thankfully right in front of you, “and I came into the kitchen to look for something, as one normally does when it has been some time since they’ve eaten.”
He scowled, somewhere between annoyance and not quite believing you. You swallowed nervously, praying there was nothing to prove what the two of you had actually been doing. There was no evidence that anything happened, so he couldn’t do anything, “your father and mother request your presence in his study. Immediately.”
“Immediately?” you scoffed, “I’ve got plans for my afternoon - anything important can surely be handled by my sister, no? She’s to be the Queen after all, not me. I’m nothing to them, except another burden. Surely they meant Helena and not me.”
“They asked for you specifically, Princess,” he was quick to grow weary of your attitude. Normally you were polite, and mostly kept to yourself, but this particular guard was nothing but pain. Everything with him had to be by the book and he refused any levity, “you’re to come with me.”
“Fine,” you agreed, you took a loud, crunching bite of your apple as you walked over to him. Waving a hand at him, you ushered him along, “let’s go then, and get this over with. I have a multitude of things I’d rather be doing.”
He was silent as he led the way, allowing you to steal one last look at Frankie, who was almost red-faced as he tried not to laugh. You blew him a kiss followed by a wave as you put on your most neutral and disinterested face. You’d come back and find him later to finish what you started; if nothing else, you at least would get to spend time with him. There was nothing better than that.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Ahhh, there she is,” your father stood up as soon as you walked into the room. Confusion marred your features as you look behind you to see who he was talking about. He walked over to you and put his hand on your shoulders and studied you, “I’m talking about you, of course. My youngest, my sweetest-”
“I’m not your youngest, father,” you reminded him, “I have two brothers, or have you forgotten about them? I’d also wager that-”
“Must you always talk back?” your mother’s face was set in a stern expression as she was perched on the edge of your father’s desk, “it’s unbecoming of a young lady. Husbands do not want a wife that’s always so haughty.”
“Bold of you to assume I want a husband,” you insisted as you crossed your arms over your chest, causing your father to sigh, “and if a husband does not want to listen to me talk or engage in conversation, then he is not a husband I want.”
“You don’t get a choice in that.”
“I refuse to marry a man I do not love.”
“You are not in a position to argue,” your father held up his hands, silencing the two of you, ever the neutral ruler. Rolling your eyes you waited for him to go on, “it is your duty, by birth, to marry a man of our choosing. You’re a Princess, you do not marry for love. You marry for relations, to produce heirs, for your people.”
“I am a second born,” you huffed, trying to understand what he was saying, “and a daughter at that. What does it matter? I’m not going to Queen, I’m just...me.”
“It does not matter,” your mother insisted, “you are a part of this family and you will do as we say. Your marriage is just as important as those of your sister and your younger brothers.”
“Fine,” there was no point in trying to argue, “should I ever find a man that I love that meets your standards, I’ll let you know. May I be excused now? I have other things I’d like to attend to -”
“That’s why you’re here,” your brow furrowed in confusion, but suddenly you felt like there was a lump in your throat, “you will get married and you will have a husband of our choosing. It just so happens that we’ve chosen one for you already.”
“What? No, no, no, no,” you eyes widened in shock as panic set deep in your bones, “you can’t just do that. W-with no warning-”
“We can and we have,” she raised an eyebrow, “you’re already older than you should be. Luckily, we’ve found a wonderful husband for you, the Lord of Easterly.”
“Easterly?” you repeated as you felt the life leave your heart, “he’s so much older, and he’s terrible! Everyone loathes him, surely you can’t be...you can’t be serious.”
“He’s a good match,” your mother insisted firmly, “and frankly are better than you could have hoped for. You should be thanking your lucky stars your father is king and could even arrange such a match at your age. You’re not getting any younger and you should have been married years ago.”
“Please,” your mind was already racing with hundred million thoughts, but they all went back to Frankie. You couldn’t get married, not to this man - a man you’d barely met and certainly didn’t love. No, no, no, this was all wrong. Suddenly your attitude went away and you were ready to beg and grovel, “please don’t do this. Please, you can’t force me to marry him...I beg of you. I will do anything, just don’t make me marry him. Please.”
“It also already done and settled,” her voice was cold and ice and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear there was a pleased little smirk tugging on the corners of her mouth, “you’ll be married by the end of next month and then you will go to live with your new husband. You may be unhappy, but this is your duty. This has always been your duty.”
“No,” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry, “I won’t do it.”
“There is no won’t, you will do this,” she crossed her arms over her chest and your father remained silent. You looked between the two of them, hoping, wishing, praying, that one of them would say something else. One of them had to be on your side, right?
“And if I refuse?”
“You will not,” her glare was cold as ice as she stared you down. You swallowed thickly but willed down all the ugly, vile things you wanted to say. You’d already angered them, and you needn’t poke the bear further...you didn’t want to know what else they could be capable of, “now go. An official announcement will be made at the end of the week and then we will plan your wedding.”
“I hope you know that I hate this,” it was the only thing that came to mind, “I will never forgive you for this.”
“We have nothing to be sorry for,” your father finally chimed in as he looked down at you, “you have always known that this was your duty, and now its your turn to fulfill that duty. Now run along and learn some manners and respect.”
You offered them a mock bow before storming out of the door, without waiting for it to be opened. Tears of anger and frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to still your racing mind. A month, you had a month. A month to figure out how to get out of this situation once and for all. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You watched as rain poured outside your window, tapping on it gently as you cried and cried. At some point, you weren’t sure if it was the raindrops obscuring your vision or your own tears making it cloudy. As soon as you’d stepped foot back outside that afternoon the skies had opened and rain had poured down, covering the earth as if it was weeping with you. You’d been so caught up in your sorrow, you’d forgotten about anything else - including meeting Frankie at your secret spot in the gardens. 
You clutched the small stuffed bunny in your arms as you cried and hiccuped, wishing that this would all go away. You’d had the little stuffed animal for some time, a secret little present from Frankie because he knew how much you loved the small creatures. No matter how long you’d had it, it still managed to smell of him - a sweet, saccharine smell.
A soft knock came from the windows, startling you as you wiped away your tears and started at the large window. You weren’t sure if it had been your imagination or if you’d actually heard something, but as soon as you’d seen the shadow moving about, you were sure it was someone. 
Slipping out from the soft blankets, you padded over and slowly opened the window. You immediately spied Frankie as he finally looked relieved to finally see you. 
“Princess,” he whispered as he reached out and gently touched your face, grounding him in the fact that you were okay. But his heart wrenched when he realized that your face was wet, but not from the rain, “you’re crying - what’s wrong? Y-you didn’t come to our spot.”
“I-I-I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you took his hand in yours and pulled him inside the warmth of your rooms. It was silent while you made quick of pulling off his jacket and laying it on the back of your chair. Pulling him gently, you took him towards the warm, crackling fire, flopping down on the floor next to it, “I forgot, Frankie. I…”
And then it was silent for some time. Frankie sat next to you, silent as he warmed up and wanted for you to carry on with what you had to say. After some time, he pulled you in his lap as he studied your face. He brought a hand up, slowly, delicately as he traced over your features before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“What’s happened, my sunshine?” he whispered as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder. Before you could get out any proper words, you ended up crying again, tears quickly soaking through his tunic as you cried. He held you gently, rocking back and forth as he tried to get you to quiet down so you could speak to him, “shhh, my sweet love. It’s okay, it’s all okay...I’ve got you.” 
"Frankie," you finally managed to pull yourself together enough to spot the tears from spilling, "I received horrible news today...the worst thing that could possibly happen occurred today…"
"Whatever could it be?" he reached up and gently wiped away your tears from your cheeks and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear.
"I am to be married," you finally said the words out loud for the first time, shocking you both are vile they sounded, "by the end of next month. To Lord Easterly of all people."
"Oh."
“This is the worst thing to happen,” you whispered softly, “I-I don’t know what to do. Francisco, I love you - you’re the one I want to m-”
“You must marry him,” he stated; there was no emotion, no hesitation or anything. His voice was neutral - calculated to show no trace of emotion, “if your parents arranged your marriage to him, then you must marry him.”
“Frankie,” you pulled back, your face colored in hurt and shock, “I-I don’t love him, I don’t want to marry him. I love you…”
“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, “it is your duty to marry him.”
Inside, his own heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces, mere fragments of a whole. He wanted to cry - to scream and argue and hurt everyone that had brought this upon you. But instead he just...shut down. In some ways, he’d spent the last few years preparing for this moment, knowing that eventually it would be inevitable. He was a stupid, foolish man to fall in love with you in the first place. He had no right, no reason to - he was of one world and you were of another. You could never be together. Never. And even though he’d always known that, locked away in the back of his mind, this didn’t make the crushing blow any easier. He was so in love with you, it was hard to believe that his love could ever die; sometimes it left him breathless just to think about how much he was enamored by you. 
But you could never be his. 
“Francisco,” you shook your head as you grabbed his face and turned his chocolate eyes towards you, “what on earth are you saying? I thought you...I thought you loved me? I can’t marry him, I will never be happy again if I do. It’s supposed to be you, my love. No one else.”
“Don’t be foolish,” his voice cracked as he took your hands and pulled them away, “we can never be together, we both know that. It was only a matter of time...we’ve always known it would come to this. You must do as they say.”
“I-I-I don’t understand,” you shook your head, blinking back tears as you pulled away from Frankie. He stared at the fireplace as he refused to make eye contact with you, “you want me to marry him?”
“I don’t,” he admitted quietly, “gods, of course I don’t. But there is no choice, no other way. We both know that. If I could, I would marry you right now, and take you away from this forever. But I can’t do that...we would never work. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and we’ve both been blissfully ignorant of that fact, but it was always bound to come to an end. That will never change how much I love you.”
“You want me to marry a man I do not love because I’m being told to,” you were crying now, fully bawling at blatant denial of...you, "you want me to subject myself to a life of unhappiness? You can't...you won't be able to go with me."
"You know your duty-"
"That is such shit!" you shouted at him, "you love me, right? We'll run away together - we can get married and live happily far away from here."
"And what? You'll just be found and brought back and I'll be jailed if not hanged," he threw his hands up in frustration, "or worse yet, we'll both be hanged. I can't...I can't give the life you deserve."
"We'll go far away," it was a meek protest as you contemplated dropping to your knees to beg him to stay and fight for you, "no one will know who we are. I swear it - please, Frankie. I don't want anything else but you. That's all I want - you. Just you. Please."
"I'm sorry," he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest as he deflected from the situation, "I can't do that. You have to do what you're told to do."
"So you don't love me...has this all been a lie then?"
"I do love you."
"It doesn't feel like it. Stay with me then!"
"I can't do that. You know that - we don't have a choice."
"Everything is a choice!" you shouted angrily, "everything!"
"Do you have any clue how hard this is for me too?!" you'd never heard him raise his voice this loudly before and took you aback for a moment as you pouted at him, "to see the woman I love every single day but not to be able to be with her? Having to see her in secret? I want to show the world I love you, I want everyone to know! But I can't - for your safety and mine. It pains me every day not to be able to love you as I want!"
"Then go with me," you reached for his hand but he quickly pulled out of your grasp, "we can run away together. Please don't leave me. Please."
"You know it has to be this way," his voice shook as a tear rolled down his cheek, "you know how it has to be. I will always love you. You have my heart, always and forever."
"Don't go," he started walking back to the window, refusing to look back over at you. You chased after him but he turned away, "please, Francisco. I'm begging you, I will do anything to get you to stay."
"Please don't…"
"W-we still have time," you were grasping at straws, but it was all you could think of doing, "we'll figure something out. What if I tell my parents we plan to marry? Or that I am with child?"
"They'll have me hanged before you could finish telling them and they'd force you to marry to cover up your pregnancy," you knew he was right.
"We can...we can make the most out of our time together," he turned to face you, and you met those eyes you'd fallen in love with one last time, "there is time...we can…"
"I don't think that's a good idea," he whispered softly, "we shouldn't make it harder than it already is. We can just end it now…"
"Please," you tried to grab his hand as he sidled along the ledge. Your soul felt like its light had been extinguished as he shook his head, recoiling from your touch as though it was laced with venom, "Francisco. I love you more than anything. You are my heart, my home-"
"Don't do this," his words cut like a knife at your throat as you realized he was serious. He wasn't coming back, "this ends tonight. If we keep going its only going to hurt worse. We'll cut our losses now. I love you, Princess, so damn much it takes my breath away. But this is the way."
"I love you," it was a strangled cry as you watched him go, "I will never love another. Only you."
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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