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#will i ever cease to draw cats
iridescentruby · 1 year
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She saw her childhood sunsetting before her eyes, going out as softly and serene as the late fall evening it left her on. As it left, she wanted to ask it: will you miss me like I'll miss you? Will you wonder how I've changed since you left? Will I keep being me if you take my heart with you? Honeypaw wanted to be herself again. She wanted to be three moons old. She wanted to stop knowing everything she knew.
Was this what growing up was? Just being left behind, over and over?
Honeypaw felt herself reaching out to the setting sun, feeling the light slip from between her toes as she tried to grasp it, to force time to stop moving forward. The sunset, of course, didn't care what she wanted. Didn't care if she even noticed, if she watched. It would keep going, would keep being beautiful and terrible and tragic, even if she had never bothered to look.
— Honeybee’s childhood ends in @forgotten-elegy; written by Bri
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cuubism · 2 months
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Hob will always be grateful that he and Dream got together before Dream's retirement, for so many reasons. One of them is this: that he knows what Dream of the Endless looks like when he laughs, when he's flustered, when he's flushed with pleasure, or warm from a hot shower. Because he knows these things he can fully appreciate the contrast in how Dream--just Dream, himself, not Of The Anything--looks in those moments.
Dream of the Endless had been a work of fine art that never cracked. Hob doesn't think he saw him blush once, ever. His skin was always pale and even, even when Hob made him smile, or cry out in pleasure, or warmed him by the fire. He was how he was.
This Dream, human Dream, his Dream, blushes so easily, and it's a delight. Even human, his complexion is very pale, so the slightest redness is stark on his skin. When Hob surprises him with a kiss he blushes high on his cheeks. When they're gasping for breath after sex--gasping for breath, another thing Dream of the Endless had never done--Dream's face will be flushed red and damp with sweat. He's embarrassed about it, which only makes the blush worse, but Hob finds it incredibly charming.
Or like now: when he's coming out of the shower. Hob has to stifle a laugh. The poor once-dream king's whole chest, neck, and face are splotchy and red from the heat. He does like his showers boiling hot, and he pays for it in this. It's rather un-sexy--Hob's sure Dream would prefer to swan out of the bathroom dripping in a more picturesque and alluring way. But Hob thinks it's all very cute.
Dream scowls at him as he laughs. "You are making fun. Cease that this instant."
"Sorry, Your Highness, it's just that you look like a calico cat that's gone through a forest fire."
Dream throws a towel at him before he's even had a chance to dry his hair with it. When Hob catches it, his scowl only deepens.
Hob steps into his space and starts drying his hair for him. "S'tough when you can't dictate every little bit of your appearance, isn't it?" He's not without sympathy. He knows that even now, for Dream, relinquishing the tiniest bit of control feels like losing a battle.
Dream pokes at one of the red patches on his skin, which is gradually fading. His fingertip leaves a white indent. "I do not know why the blood insists on continually traveling towards the surface. It has other business."
"Perhaps it's just greedy for warmth." He tousles Dream's hair, which earns him another pout. "Like the body it's trying to run, hm?"
"Body," Dream echoes, with distaste. He does not always like having one, Hob knows. Nor especially one that can show his emotions so clearly, and without his agreement.
"It looks good on you," Hob tells him, caressing his cheek. "Warmth. You know."
Warmth, and life. It's worth more than anything to see dream having these moments of life. An overly-hot shower. A blushing smile.
Hob kisses his cheek, and, predictably, he blushes.
"...Perhaps," Dream finally allows. The redness from the shower is fading, but the shade on his cheeks lingers. He's so unbearably lovely.
Hob kisses the corner of his mouth. Murmurs there, "Should we see just how much I can make you blush?"
"This fixation is discomfiting," Dream complains. But he follows agreeably when Hob takes his hands and draws him into the bedroom. He always follows in the end, even if he complains the whole while. Hob thinks that, deep down, Dream wants this life, even if it's sometimes all splotchy. It's just hard to feel like he can have it. It's new and still rubbed raw, and these little changes are as confronting as they are, secretly, comforting.
But Hob loves him in this life, and loves showing him how much he loves him. Especially when he can get that blush to rise all along Dream's chest and throat and cheeks and the tips of his ears. Because another thing that's wonderful about Dream's human body?
It takes kisses so beautifully.
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jadetheblade4 · 11 days
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Are They Stupid?
A Dog Man Fanfic by Swirly Twirly
☆☆☆
Summary: Petey escapes Cat Jail, but the local guard that checks up on him is the one on his tail!! Will the shennanigans ever cease... (Takes place somewhere before A Tale Of Two Kitties) (Not a ship thing sorry weirdos but this gal wants to write for the silly of it ^_^)
☆☆☆
Part 1:
It was yet another normal day at Cat Jail, Collardale. The guard was doing his normal everyday rounds, albeit with a positive demeanor. He had been having a great day so far, thinking that nothing much could ruin it. He went to Petey's cell with a skip in his step.
"Gooooooood morning, Petey!" proclaimed the Guard, banging onto the cold metal bars of the cell. Petey, startled by this sudden noise, lifted his head up from his piles of papers and blueprints of escape. His face contorted into an annoyed glance once he saw who it was, his ears turned downward in disinterest.
"Aaaaaand goodbye to you, Guard..." Petey retorts, waving him off and continuing to work on his plans.
The guard chuckled. "Aw, cheer up, buddy! Big Jim and a bunch of other cats are planning on taking a sewing class today. You should join them!"
"Don't call me buddy! Besides, why would I want to be with any of those nut jobs? They're all stupid goofballs that don't have anything better to do with their life!" Petey took great offense in that chuckle, even slightly hissing his words to subconciously tell him to back off.
The guard tilts his head slightly, frowning a bit. "Then...what are you doing with your time?" he questioned, leaning onto the bars of Petey's cell. 
Petey's sneer immediately dissapears the moment he realizes how suspicious he looks. "I- um...Well..." he stutters, trying to find something to pass off as an excuse. Suddenly, his ears perk up, a quick idea passing through his genius mind.
He picked up a piece of paper that was a shopping list of some sort but for evil machinery. The contents didn't matter, though. He turned it over and quickly doodled a crude-looking drawing of the guard and himself holding hands, trying to make it as nice as possible with his ratty artstyle.
"Well, for your information... I'm...drawing a picture!! Of us!! Hanging out or whatever, just come see it!" proclaimed the orange cat, waving the drawing above his head.
The guard's face lights up in glee. "Really, Petey? You drew a picture for me??" he squealed in excitement. He never would've thought that Petey would do something nice for him for a change!
Petey nods convincingly. "Uh huh, just open the cell door and come inside to see it!!"
Unlocking the door to petey's cell, the guard steps inside gleefully. "What does it look like? Oh, I hope you capture my likeness onto it!!"
"Yeah, yeah, here ya go, I made it with care and whatnot, blah blah blah sappy stuff..." Petey shoves the drawing onto the guard, who happily accepted it.  The guard's eyes go wide as he scans the picture. A huge grin spreads across his face. "Aw, Petey, I love it!!! It looks so nice!!! C'mere you!!" He goes over to him and pulls him into a tight and loving hug.
"Oof!" Petey's breath slips out of him as he's trapped in the guard's iron grip. "Ok, man, hands off the merchandise!!" He squirms, trying to get away, but the guy has no plans of letting him go at the moment.
"This is the most thoughtful gift i have ever recieved in my whole entire life!!!! the guard proclaimed, continuing to cuddle him more. He comically spins him around and even kisses his cheek a couple of times, the gift really meaning a lot to him somehow.
"EUGH!! Alright ALRIGHT I GET IT I'm such a great pal now GET OFF!!!" Petey wriggled around his grasp until he popped off. He let out a "hmph!" as he tidied himself up from his sudden invasion of privacy. The guard jumped off to the side, a bit hurt by Petey's sudden cold nature. The orange cat notices his sudden deflate and feels a certain pull in his heart. "I mean, uh, no problem... figured I'd repay you for dealing with my, uh, schemes and stuff..." Petey stuttered, shifting his feet.
The guard's face lights back up again as he looks back at the picture. "Aww, it's nothing, Petey!! Just doing my duty!!" he said. Petey let out a smile, strangely happy about his half-assed drawing. He then shakes his head and tries to focus on the task at hand.
"I was thinking about hanging it up over there on the right side corner of my cell, can ya be a dear and put it there for me?" he bats his eyes innocently and points to said corner. The guard happily agreed. "Of course, dear pal!" He gives him one final hug and rushes to the wall to hang it up.
With a devious smile on his face, he tiptoes out of the cell. "Heheh, what a doofus..." the cat giggled. A few moments later, he escapes from the jail once more. "Ahh, finally! I can get back to doing what i usually do..." He walks back to his lab and breathes a sigh of relief. "The life...OF CRIME!!! HAW HAW HAW!!!!" he announces. The large building echoed his words, alerting the butler from the staircase.
"Heya Petey! Been a while since I've seen you around!!" he quickly steps down and joins him as Petey parades around his home. "Breaking out this time was a bit difficult," Petey went on, "but now things can finally get back on tra-"
A tv at the corner of the supposed room they're in suddenly announces its lovely presence by blaring breaking news from its LD screen. Petey and Butler turn their attention to the tv. It shows none other than Sarah Hatoff,  greatest reporter, in front of the very Cat Jail Petey just escaped from moments ago.
"BREAKING NEWS, FELLOW CITIZENS OF COLLARDALE!!!" Sarah declared. "We are currently receiving reports of a runaway warden of sorts from the Cat Jail looking for a certain fiendish feline...PETEY!!!" A mugshot of his face is shown on the screen right next to a goofy-looking photo of the guard, to which Petey frowns upon. "He informs us that if we see the cat anywhere to report to him...and...only him." Sarah scratched her head in confusion. "Huh. Guess the police aren't needed. This is Sarah Hatoff, signing out."
The butler turned to Petey. "Huh, I guess you don't need to, after all!" he said with a dumbass smile on his face. Petey grimaces and pinches the middle of his forehead in frustration. "AAUGH....Why is there always SOMETHING to ruin the mood..." he groaned, marching up the steps to the lab's roof with the butler following right behind. 
Up above, Petey and the butler scan their surroundings. The day-to-day hustle and bustle of the city rings out from below, showing no sign of anything unusual. The butler tilts his head. "Nobody here yet..." he muttered.
The orange cat crossed his shoulders and shook his head. "...Hmph! What am I even worried about anyways?!?" He laughed at how absurd he was acting at the moment to save face as he started walking back towards the stairs. "This lab is one of the most discrete and perfectly hidden buildings in all of the city of Collardale! It'll take a while before-"
A loud buzz-like sound suddenly calls out and the pair jumped in suprise. Petey rushed back and leaned over the roof once more to see a tiny guard waiting patiently at the door, pressing the goddamn buzzer.
"HOW DID HE FIND MY LAB!?!" Petey screamed. He quickly covered his mouth and dragged Butler down to the ground before Guard could see up above. He grabbed his butler by the shirt and whispered, "How did he find my lab?!?!?!"
The butler shrugged. "Gee, Petey, I don't have a clue how the guy could think of coming here."
"Hmm...strange." Petey let him go and scratched his head. He peered over the roof to look at his big fat-ass "PETEY'S SECRET LAB" sign. "Oh, by the way, I think you need to change a few of the lightbulbs on my lab's sign this weekend. A few of them are starting to fade out."
The butler rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'll buy lightbulbs later this evening, I guess..." he muttered again, peering over and looking at the sign with him.
Petey raised his eyebrow. "Also, quit muttering and mumbling so much, it's starting to irritate me >:( ."
The guard pressed the buzzer again. His hand contained a small piece of paper. "Helloooo?"  he called out. "I'm an authority from the local Cat Jail! Is anyone home?" He looked up at the tall building, to which Petey noticed just in time and ducked. Unfortunately, the butler ducked a bit too late, therefore leading the guard to only catch sight of him and not Petey.
"Oh, hey there! I just wanted to ask a couple of questions, if ya don't mind!!" he shouted from below to up above. The butler pops out again and gives a thumbs up, then goes down again.
Petey facepalms himself and groans annoyingly. He then faces the butler, who smiled sheepishly.
"You better not tell him im here. In fact, make him regret coming here in the first place!! I don't wanna be involved with the guy any further!!" he yelled, grudgingly going downstairs.
The butler shifted uneasily in place. "Uh, sure, Petey... I'll see what I can do, I guess..." he mumbled once more as he followed the grumpy cat.
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mentallyshattered · 6 months
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This is part 2 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series! The plot thickens...
(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)
Masterlist
Woah. This is... incredible.
I mean, it was incredible when I looked up and saw a fucking castle, but this? All this shiny white and gold? I feel like I'm going to be a royal's personal servant. But, this is Pomefiore dorm- and I'm in Pomefiore! Does that mean I'm the royal?
"Alright!" Vil's call for attention is met with the ceasing of the oohs and aahs in favor of all eyes on him. He looks powerful, but not in an intimidating way- rather, I feel drawn to him. Based on the body language of those around me, though, that might just be a "me and Grim" thing. The kid on my right looks meek.
"Third years, you know what to do. Second years, you do what the third years are doing. Rook, on my left. First years, I am still waiting on the list with all your names on it, so you will be placed into your dorm rooms now. Those of you with feline slash feline-adjacent familiars, stand in the circle." With magic, he draws a large, glowing blue outline of a circle on the floor to his right. I look at Grim and make our way through the crowd, my cat on my shoulder, and stand in the circle. There are nine people standing on Vil's right by the end of it, including me.
While I have Grim, there's a kid on my right with white hair, caramel skin, and an ice-blue panther-looking thing that's about as tall at the shoulder as he is at the hip. Its eyes are completely black, like ink, and it's apparently just as confused as its human.
To my left is a kid with an opossum. The 'possum has a deep blue body and tail, along with a white head that almost makes it look like the thing is wearing a skull. Its eyes are seagreen everywhere except the pupils.
Vil points at the kid on my left. "What's your name?"
"K-Korrak." The kid rolls the r as he says it.
"Alright, and what's your name?" He's pointing at me now. But, before I can stutter out my answer at the question I should've been anticipating, Grim answers for me.
"I'm Grim!" Vil does not appear as amused as he did. Grim, taking notice, adds, "and this is Yuu."
"You? I do not believe that is me."
"No, no, Yuu. Y-u-u, not y-o-u."
"Ah, okay. Yuu, Korrak, you two will be in room 109. There is a cat tree for your familiars to share and two cat beds for them to split. Here you are." He hands me a key with the Pomefiore crest on the end. Upon examining it, the number 109 is engraved on it.
"You two may now go to your dorm room and get settled in. I trust you know how to retrieve your things?" Korrak nods. Grim and I say nothing. Vil smiles, as though pleased. "Off you go, then."
Room 109 is easy to find. It's on the left, just like every other odd number, and is on the first floor. The door is huge, large enough to fit me and Korrak shoulder-to-shoulder with Korrak's familiar standing on his head, not touching the top of the doorframe.
Inside, there's two twin canopy beds, two small, blue cat beds, two pristine white nightstands, and- as promised- a cat tower, right in the middle. I take the canopy bed on the right. Korrak flops down onto his new bed, waves his magic pen, and starts unpacking the luggage he just summoned. There isn't much- just a two rolly bags and a backpack.
Korrak's familiar takes notice of my staring. "Pilot parents," it says, "everything has to fit on a plane." I nod. This new world has airplanes, too, huh?
There's a knock on the door. "Come in," Shouts the 'possum. Vil opens the door.
"Yuu, come with me. Now." I immediately approach, Grim now on my head, to follow Vil down the hall and into what looks to be a makeup department you'd see in a "behind the scenes: live-action movie" documentary.
A blonde boy I recognize as Rook is already standing there, motioning for me to sit in one of the chairs. I look to Vil for confirmation before taking the seat. Rook takes Grim off of my head, sits in the chair next to mine, and places Grim on the counter in front of him.
All Grim has time to say is, "myaah?" Before Rook pulls out a cat brush and starts brushing my familiar's fur. Grim soon settles into the comforting sensation with a continuous purrrrrr.
"Yuu. Look at me." Vil's voice draws my attention once more, and I look directly into his violet eyes. "Why the fuck is your hair this matted? When did you last brush it?"
"Uhh... good question. I'd tell you if I knew."
My answer is honest. The rage in Vil's eyes is bright like floodlights.
"Why don't you know?" I shrug. Vil's voice is low and nearly sinister- but not quite.
"Grim." Vil's head snaps toward Rook, as though daring him to speak again. "When was the last time Yuu brushed his hair?"
Grim shrugs. "I dunno. We met just before the ceremony."
The upperclassmen now appear confused, Vil more so than Rook. "You... Just met? Today?" Vil alone speaks at first, but his and Rook's voices blend together for the final word.
"Yeah, Grim wanted to enroll and broke open a coffin-box so he could have a uniform."
"Hench-Human knew my name. Somehow, I knew his. Dunno how that works, but that probably means he's my familiar, right?"
Both the blondes are stunned into silence. Rook is the first to break it.
"So, did you meet and magically bind as children, only to forget and be reunited years later as familiars?" He looks... exited now. "Beauté!"
"Probably not," I jump in, "given that I'm not from a world with magic, and can't use any myself."
Vil looks shocked. "What do you mean, you can't use magic? How in tarnation did you get a spot at Night Raven College with no magic?"
"Hell if I know. Hey, where are we? I know we're in Pomefiore dorm at Night Raven, but... geographically, where are we?"
Vil sighs. It's obvious that he never expected that question, or the lack of magic.
"Twisted Wonderland, spud. That's the broadest way I can put it."
"Okay. Broadest way I can put it, I'm from the Milky Way Galaxy."
Now he's looking at me weird.
"We are in the Twisted Galaxy's Selm system, on the specific planet 'Wonder.' People usually call our planet 'Twisted Wonderland.' With that in mind, where are you from?" Rook's elaboration gives me a better idea of what to say next.
"Earth, of the Milky Way Galaxy's Sol system. I've only really heard people call it 'Earth.'"
"Myaah, I never knew Twisted Wonderland was the name of the planet! That's so cool!"
Vil sighs and starts cutting my hair. "Let's... worry about that after we get this rat's nest off your head." Rook goes back to brushing Grim. For a moment, I allow myself to believe everything is okay. And, for the first time in my life, that feels true.
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catboyidia · 13 days
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Hii! Your hcs are lovely and I like how you portray everyone. If it's okay with you, can I ask for some ASG hcs with Angeal and Sephiroth managing to make Genesis blush? I think it wouldn't be an easy feat so the times they do it is remarkable for everyone hehe
ahdjdj tysm anon! :) omg i’ve never actually thought about it, but now that i do i definitely think it would be a bit of a rarer sight! you are so right!
instances in which i think angeal and sephiroth can make/have made genesis blush:
- since he admired sephiroth when he was younger, it probably would’ve been a bit easier for sephiroth to make him blush closer to when they first met, primarily whenever sephiroth would give him any form of praise while they trained together
- any time they show genesis any form of soft/sweet innocent intimacy!!! angeal gently kissing genesis on the head, sephiroth lazily holding and cuddling him early in the morning, the occasional moments where they’ll both whisper sweet nothings to genesis, anything along those lines i believe would have genesis as red as his coat
- over time when sephiroth had started opening up more and started trying to show his love and affection towards genesis in any way he knew how, i think it would’ve gotten to genesis, especially the small little things, despite the slight awkwardness in how sephiroth would go about it at first
- he is very used to being the center of attention, but he’s almost always the one that draws the attention to himself, so he can’t handle it when sephiroth and angeal center him themselves, especially when they tease him and get all lovey-dovey about him
- because of angeal’s circumstances growing up, he doesn’t see the value in getting generic expensive gifts, so ever since him and genesis were young he would get genesis small little things here and there, and because genesis was raised basically the opposite in a wealthy family, he absolutely cherished those small gifts! and it evolved as they grew up to angeal giving genesis bigger gifts, but they were things he would work his ass off for! and though he’ll never admit it, the fact that angeal would go through that kind of trouble just for him means the world to him, especially because the gifts are far and few in between
- whenever angeal or sephiroth brings up something genesis likes or has mentioned before, it makes genesis feel so special because it means they actually care enough to listen to him, its something so small but makes him feel so loved
- generally any time they offer any kind of reassurance, praise, or compliment to genesis in a way that makes him feel genuinely loved, cared for, and accepted really!!! i feel like being accepted while being himself in any capacity by the people he loves will never cease to mean everything to him make him feel flustered
- not an instance in which they make him blush, but after they manage to get him to blush: i would just really like to think that if one of them manages to do it while the other isn’t paying attention, they’ll nudge each other or try to silently get each other’s attention so they can point out genesis’ blush! almost in the way people do when a cat does something cute and they wanna show someone else without distracting the cat! and i think that it takes a while for genesis to stop blushing once he starts, so angeal and sephiroth will start teasing him about it, which only makes it worse
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strayrockette · 2 years
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Give Me Peace Over War
Chapter 1: The Nightmare
Previous Part
Thomas Shelby Masterlist
Peaky Blinders Masterlist
Summary: Miruna is a recluse "gypsy witch," who finds herself being pushed out of her apartment for a job at a bakery at the insistence of Lizzie Stark, a neighbor, and a friend.
A/N: *phew* this was a long time coming. It took a lot of rewrites and drafts to put this chapter together. If it wasn't for @mysticalpandora lovely help, I probably would have crawled into a hole and given up on writing. She's an amazing writer and I'm so glad she took time out of her busy schedule to help edit this chapter! 💙💙 Now that this is done, I can finally move on to my other WIP and requests. You have no idea how stressed this chapter got me.
PS: @mysticalpandora is a writer in hiding, you guys should definitely keep a lookout for her. I for one can't wait to see what she writes and what fandom she'll get me back into! 😊💙 (My baby sister told me to do a blue heart. I guess she got bored with red?) (Update: She just told me blue is the best color)
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Fresh pastries and blossoms. None would expect that peculiar scent to waft in the air of Small Heath. For Miruna, it was the opposite. Despite the smell being a strange thing to encounter, it was ever present to her, much like the graphite that lined her fingers and smudged the side of her palm. Fingers gripped the pencil in her hand achingly tight, joints protesting from the lack of comfort and freedom. Her sketchbook lay haphazardly next to her on her tiny twin bed, the sheets resembling the same haphazardness despite the fact that she had barely slept amongst them. Miruna had spent her time, drawing within the comforting silence night had provided, sleep few and far between. As the sun rose from its slumber and kissed the earth with its morning rays, Small Heath had buzzed to life. 
With it, a sense of relief washed over Miruna as she found herself grateful for the distraction. Resting her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, she allowed her hand to move freely to the side to lay her pencil atop her sketchbook, before returning her hand to her lap, a breath of a sigh escaping her lips as she allowed herself to relax. Though, it wasn't long before she could hear the sounds of her neighbor clamoring around their equally tiny apartment. 
If she allowed herself to sink further into the depths of relaxation and peace, she'd be able to hear the sounds of Giddy - the neighborhood cat - sauntering around the hallways and possibly chasing the occasional mouse. The buzz around her was more welcomed than she had expected, lulling her mind into Sleep's awaiting arms. Arms that begged and pleaded for her to rest her aching bones upon the mattress of her bed, to cast aside her external distractions for rest... If she allowed it. Despite the sleep, she knew she craved, she could already envision the nightmare that loomed over her like the smoke that hung around the rooftops of Small Heath, visiting her in her impotent state.
Hurried footsteps and frantic knocking jolted her, "Miruna! Are you up?" 
Her dark brown eyes surveyed her apartment a breath of relief escaping her chapped lips when seeing it as empty as it was moments before closing her eyes. She suspected that she would need to sleep soon, a week without proper rest had a way of tricking the mind. Her body moved sluggishly, heavy with exhaustion. Standing from her bed slowly, she concentrated on movin one foot after the other. The knocking had ceased and whoever was looking for her had gone quiet. Her fingers brushed against the cool brass of the doorknob and gently tugged the door open. She peaked around the corner and found her neighbor waiting patiently, arms full with cotton and laced garments. 
Her neighbor grimaced as she took in Miruna's face, "Did I not tell you to sleep? honestly, love. You need to care for yourself." 
Her neighbor was a beautiful woman, which came in handy in her line of work as a lady of the night. Despite the grittiness of her career, Lizzie was still a dreamer at heart. 
Miruna tilted her head and murmured, "I slept."
Miruna had moved into the empty room next to Lizzie over a year ago. In that short time, Miruna had found an unwelcomed friend in Lizzie.
Lizzie huffed at her lackluster response, "two minutes of rest hardly counts. Today is your first day of work, you must look your best." 
Lizzie had made it her mission to get her out of her apartment and into a proper job because if anyone needed it, it would be lonely Miruna, who very rarely wanted anything to do with the outside world. Miruna had a habit of hiding in her apartment and only socializing with those who visited her for her “gypsy magic.” Though Miruna swears all she ever does is talk and have tea with her fellow broken souls. But no one ever listens. 
She pushed her way into Miruna's apartment, dropping a load of clothes onto the bed stuffed to the far right and making a beeline for the wash bin and tea kettle. 
Miruna shut her door and turned to watch as Lizzie took charge. There’s no way out of this one, she thought with a sigh. 
Lizzie turned to eye Miruna's disheveled state. Eye bags severely present on her lightly tanned skin, wavey hair knotted and her nightgown messy and disorganized. For someone who didn't sleep, Miruna looked as if she had tossed and turned all night. Lizzie eyed the open sketchbook sitting atop her pillowcase, a hint of a figure making its presence known but not quite finished in detail. She suspected that Miruna had sat in bed sketching away most of the night. She turned away from the sketchbook and pretended she hadn't seen it; Miruna's sketchbook was one of the many things she was private about. With a tentative smile, she stated, "You look a mess, but I've dealt with worse,"
She reached out with quick movements and dragged Miruna to a loan chair resting next to a circular table on the left side of the room. She rolled up the sleeves of Miruna’s nightgown and dragged a warm wet rag onto her bare arms and hands. Slowly and methodically washing away signs of built up grime and graphite. 
If Lizzie was not aware of Miruna’s sleeping habits, she would have half a mind to think her dead. With her sunken glazed eyes, pale skin, and stiff movements; Miruna was a walking corpse.  
Lizzie's soft hands delicately squished her cheeks, rubbing the sleep and dry drool-those two minutes of rest must have been the best- from her face with the rag, her green eyes scrutinizing her friend, "Have you tried the brew Lacey brought you?" 
Miruna humphed, "ish ophium" 
Lizzie huffed, "what does it matter? It should help with your night terrors" 
Since moving in Miruna has suffered night terrors every night. She had tried nearly everything to combat them. From herbal tea, lavender scents, lavender cookies, lavender scrub, calming lullabies sung by Lizzie, and a dog pile with Lizzie and two other lone ladies who lived in the apartments below them. Opium seemed like the best option, but Miruna was adamantly against using it. 
Lizzie’s hands threaded through Miruna’s hair, her fingers snagging onto some knots. She pulled away to grab the brush and ran it through Miruna’s long hair.
"Its' too addicting," Miruna asserted. She turned in the chair and grabbed the brush from Lizzie’s hand, "and I can clean myself." 
Lizzie stepped back from the chair and motioned for her to go on, “You’re a bit slow but I suppose you can do the rest”
Miruna rolled her eyes at Lizzies light tease, grumbling under her breath, “I’m not a child.”
Lizzie laughed and turned away and towards the pile of clothes she set on the bed,  "The ladies and I, all pitched in and managed to get some garments patched up for you, don't worry it's nothing scandalous for your taste." 
“And before you protest, it was all within budget, Lady Owen did all the patching up,” Lady Owen was an old widow who owned the building, an inheritance of sorts from her husband before he passed. She was the only one on this block of Small Heath who didn’t snear or smirk greasely at the ladies with a less desirable job. If anyone had trouble or simply needed a motherly prescence, Lady Owen was the one to go too. The day that she passed, would be a sad day for all. 
Miruna tilted her head as she stared at the clothes, she knew how territorial some ladies got of the fine garments and clothes they had in their possession. Looking presentable at all hours of the day was a must. For Lizzie and the few others to give up some clothes to be patched up and retailored for her was a sign of unity. If she denied the clothes, she was sure the other ladies besides Lizzie would take it as a snub. 
She pointed the brush at the white dress laying unceremoniously on her bed, “I’ll wear that one, it's the prettiest.” 
The rest of the morning passed rather quickly at Lizzie’s insistence. Lizzie shoved day old bread and an apple into her hands as they walked down the stairs. “Your to head straight to work at the bakery, Mr. and Mrs. Coulson are willing to give you another shot but that may change if you don’t show up again.” 
Miruna hummed behind a mouthful of bread, shifting the apple to her left hand she attempted to shrug on her worn wool coat. The clack of her shoes resounded in the stairwell, her foot nearly tripping as Giddy ran past them with a mouse trapped in his mouth. The bread muffled her cursing, as her hands gripped the wooden railing for balance.
Lizzie’s hand gripped the top of her coat and helped her shrug it on, “You promise, you’ll go straight to the bakery?” 
They’d paused by the building entrance, a small audience gathering by the stairs they had descended from. 
Miruna swallowed the bread and turned her gaze to the group of three, “Will you drag me there yourself?” 
Lacey, a blonde brown eyed waif, leaned forward with a teasing smile, “we can if you want to.”
“Abosultely not,” a girl looking no older than 16 protested, “it would take at least another two hours for all of us to get ready. She’ll be late by then.” 
Lacey gave her a look, “You mean, it takes you two hours to get ready, I only need one hour.” 
A tap on her shoulder distracted her from the groups quarrel about who took the longest to get ready, “Promise, you’ll go to the bakery this time”
Lizzies green eyes implored her to say yes. Miruna hesitated before relenting, “Yes, I promise, I’ll go to the bakery.” 
At her promise squeals echoed through the building and Miruna bounded out of it as quickly as her tired legs would allow. And with each step she took towards the bakery, she wished she had not made that promise. Because a week of sleepless nights made it easier for nightmares to follow her into the waking world. She should have seriously considered this fact before walking out of her apartment's comfort. 
~~~~
The dress
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TidBit about Romani history:
Roma people, also known as Romani, Sinti, Sindhi, or Kale, according to their sub-groups, are an Indo-Aryan ethnic group mainly residing in Europe. They are also referred to as "gypsies" though some consider this to be a derogatory term. This term comes from when people thought Romani/Roma people came from Egypt.
In approximately 250 BCE, the Romani are thought to have migrated from what is now the Indian state of Rajasthan to the northwest (the Punjab region). A result of their subsequent westward migration, possibly in waves, is now believed to have occurred beginning in about 500 CE. 
The raids conducted by Mahmud of Ghazni may also have triggered emigration from India. Following their defeat, these soldiers and their families were relocated to the Byzantine Empire in the west.
Taglist: @mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time
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nightcourtseer · 1 year
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A teaser to the ACOTAR6 bonus chapter I’m currently working on…
I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited about a project. Credit to @mediocrebiscuit for this brilliant cliffhanger to bring in a TOG crossover…
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Once Upon a Time
He knew where she would be. Had planned to politely draw himself away from the festivities to go to her as soon as he was able. He didn’t care to be away from her long, after the events of the past few months. And even his shadows seemed to insist in fact, that he find her that very moment.
The hair on the back of his neck rose, as his cobalt siphons pulsed a more vibrant blue. But there was no whisper of danger on the wind, no sense of foreboding as he heard their silent murmurs call to him.
“Listen, shadowsinger… Listen…”
He turned at the top of the stairs, his pace quickening as he walked to the room in the middle of the hall, situated between Elain’s old quarters and that of the High Lord and Lady.
When he stopped his shadows stilled, then fell away, seemingly content that he had arrived at his destination. He listened intently for another harried word from them, but was met only with silence, and the gentle murmurs of Elain’s voice as she cradled Nyx in the window-seat of the nursery. He often found her here in the evenings, when the world was settling in for the night. Spinning tales of far off lands and adventures for the young prince. A warm quilt was wrapped around his small body, the hardening tips of his wings just peaking over the top.
Elain did not turn to acknowledge him as Azriel leaned against the doorframe, watching silently as Elain spoke to Nyx in a voice that was sweet, and soft, and lovely.
The babe in her arms held a chestnut curl clutched in his tiny fist as he looked up at his aunt, transfixed, blue eyes wide as he watched her in awe.
But Elain was not looking down at the child, rather, she directed her unblinking stare out the window to the brilliant sky above, glittering with silver stars that seemed to burn a shade brighter than usual. As if they were offering a beacon of sorts on that Solstice Night, as the world rested for whatever was to follow. Or maybe merely waiting to reflect a dream, a hope, or maybe a message, to someone else looking up at the very same sky from a different view.
As Elain took her next breath, the world seemed to still, as if the gods themselves waited with bated breath for her next words.
It was all quiet. The rustling of the trees outside ceased, Nyx’s coos silenced, and even the stray cat that had been lingering by the front gate hushed itself.
In that same breath, as the world itself seemed to inhale with the gentle fawn, Azriel felt a shift beneath his feet. Not a physical one, but the sense as if a stack of papers had been reshuffled, and then reordered to the pleasure of the owner.
He could only listen as the seer spoke.
“Once upon a time, in a world long since burned to ash… there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom very much…”
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Hiya😊
I have two questions for the Koopalings. The first one is what religion would they catagorize themselves in?
The second one is are any of the Koopalings neurodivergent? They shouldn't feel pressured to answer because I understand that a question like this can be too personal, so if it is, I apologize.
Also, here's a cute picture of my cat because your drawings never cease to make me feel better whenever I'm overwhelmed.
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I hope both you and the Koopalings have a great day💖
Ohhhh boy, this'll be easier if I answer these myself... Hm...
For the neurodivergent part... I am one of the people who supports the notion that ALL of the Koopalings are at least a little bit autistic. (OP is autistic and sometimes projects her own quirks and whatnot onto the characters-) Some are definitely a bit "more" than others.
(Also, none of the Koopalings have ever been officially diagnosed-)
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As for the religion question... Hmmm... That's tricky. The only person who is "officially" part of a religion is Motley. She and her mom are Jewish.
And again, with the projecting thing--OP is not religious whatsoever, so doesn't see any of the characters having any certain faith nor lack thereof. I don't think the Koopalings have ever really thought about that stuff. If anything, they're Christian 'cuz they celebrate Christmas & Easter (Although not for the holy aspects of it...) But they aren't Atheists, either...
I am far too lazy to do this in-depth world building, but most religions in this world have something to do with Rosalina (AKA God)
And if you don't understand why Rosalina is God... I mean... LOOK AT HER!!!
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And for the ending thingy... Thank you so much! It means a lot to hear positive feedback like that! In return, have a lovely picture of my own cat! I hope you have a good day as well!
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pastelpinkmomoi · 9 months
Text
General Heart Fragment Headcanons (pt. 1)
Because it's still occupying my mind. Also spoilers for Book 1 and Book 2!!
Natalia is THAT girl. She takes care of herself. She has a full skincare routine she carries out every week.
She once offered Teryl one of those shiny, silver face masks
He accepted it. And then asked for another one. And another one.
Cue Clive entering the shack. Two long-haired men with silver faces greet him. He doesn’t remember much about what happened after that.
Shannon has some beef with some bigger bakery corporations (because she’s just BETTER.)
No joke, they sent her a cease and desist email to literally stop handing out free pastries (she made herself) because people stopped purchasing from their stores during that period of time
Jasper sometimes uses the nickname ‘Lia’ for Natalia
Xani is kind of fluent in Spanish
Gray has his own StarxSocial account that Xani helped set up
He doesn’t post a lot on there, he mainly uses it for keeping up with news and… pop culture - in order to try and connect with Xani because god knows what the youth of the time are interested in
From time to time, he will get logged out and will have to ask his daughter how to log back in 
“Girl. What’s my password.”
“Sigh. It’s Learntowritedownyourpassword. And both of our birth years.”
“…doesn’t work.” “I didn’t mean it literally!!”
As a result of his mutation, Jasper actually has (retractable) wolf-like fangs! No, he’s not a vampire. No, he won’t bite you to suck your blood. (Although I’m sure a lot of you would loooove that)
Like the rest of his (presumed) powers, he refuses to use his fangs. Though, they may come out simultaneously when his eyes switch colour
Clive has the most horrendous experiences whenever a barista attempts to write his name on a cup
Sometimes he’ll just blurt out a random name that is nowhere close to his out of panic and when his coffee is completed he’ll just be sat there wondering
“Who’s Jonathan and why is he not collecting his coffee what a weirdo"
“……………….wait I’M Jonathan-“
Xani once witnessed Lana mix her own coffee by also dumping a whole energy drink into it
“I am going to die.” And then she chugged the whole thing
Shannon has gossip sessions with Kay.
They are genuinely both nice, caring and drama-free individuals but sometimes they'll hear about the stuff happening around them and be like, "omg we have to talk about this"
Lana may have fallen for her boyfriend first, but he fell way harder 
She got Inigo hyperventilating, giggling, blushing and kicking his blankets!!!
His sketchbooks quickly fill up with images of her and her flowing blue hair (I swear I will draw these two prompts someday. SOMEDAY)
Natalia is quite OP at video games, despite initially not having much experience?
"Teryl, you hand me over that controller right now because I swear I will burst a vein if you spend 20 more seconds on this level struggling"
If the group ever go out in public together, she's in charge of co-ordinating their outfits if she is not satisfied because she knows her fashion 💅
But there will be times where she accidentally matches with Jasper??? Which is completely unintentional?
Natalia is forever a victim to Teryl
"is that my shirt." "sorry sweetie can't help the fact it looks better on me"
Her nails are sharp like a cat <3
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raeharmonia · 8 months
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I Won't Say Im In Love 🎩🌻
Author's note: this fic is a fic about my Lyney x oc ship (yeah this is an ocxcanon fic) also apologies if the pacing and grammar is weird im not that good at writing yet 😔 Also this is my first time posting my writing in tumblr i tried my best with the formatting so yeah thats it i hope you like it qwq
Tags: fluff (i think), Amaranthe being in denial, basically the whole fic is based on I Won't Say Im In Love from Hercules (hence the title), semi-proofread
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That Cheshire cat smile, those glinting lilac eyes, and piercing yet gentle gaze, they wouldn't get off of her mind.
Ever since the magic show that Lyney performed for her birthday at the estate, she felt something warm and fuzzy inside of her chest. She quickly ignores it thinking the feeling will go away.
She was wrong.
Every waking hour, her mind lingers on the thought of his gaze and charming antics, the way those precious compliments that she hold so dear slip out of his lips, and the feeling after he softly plants a kiss on the back of her hand.
She snaps out of her trance only to see the magician's figure that she subconsciously sketched on her sketchbook. Flustered, Amaranthe slams the book close before shoving a cookie on her mouth furiously in hopes of these thoughts to go away, cursing herself for thinking such things.
"Watcha thinking about there Amaranthe? You seemed a bit troubled there.. And flustered."
Charlotte questions the artist from across the room.
"Have you paid the rent yet, roommate?"
Amaranthe says, speaking while her mouth full. The Steambird journalist smirks playfully before sitting down next to her.
"Dont even try avoiding the question, Amaranthe. Something is clearly on your mind, dont even try to deny it either."
Amaranthe stayed silent while chewing on the pastry, she then swallows it and speaks with a flustered look.
"Ok fine, I've been thinking about Mr. Lyney—"
"YOU ARE?! DO YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM?!"
Charlotte exclaimed as she slams her hands on top of the table, a wide grin spreads across her face.
"No no no no no NO! I- its not like that..!" Amaranthe tries to maintain her composure, bringing her hair to cover up her crimson red cheeks.
"Your face says otherwise though." Amaranthe glared at Charlotte, signaling her to stop teasing. The painter sighs before reopening her sketchbook and stares at her sketch of the magician's familiar face. Charlotte gasp out of surprise, pointing at the drawing trying not to laugh.
"You're clearly in love with him, i wont blame you though, he's very charming."
"Im not in love with him! There's no way im in love with a nincompoop like him!"
Amaranthe yelled with a flustered look painted across her face, she sighs before closing the sketchbook. She stands up from her seat and walks towards the door.
"C'mon Charlotte, we cant be late for the twins' magic show."
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"Welcome one and all to Lyney and Lynette's magic show!"
The crowd cheers, enthusiastic comments can be heard amongst the crowd, Amaranthe sat on her front row seat, looking at the young magician's purple eyes.
The young painter observes his every move, the sleight of his hands, and the way the corner of his lips curves up into a wide grin as he hears he audience's amused reactions. Lyney then meet Amaranthe's gaze, sending butterflies into her stomach, she felt her fingers curl against the soft red cushions of her seat. She averted her eyes away from him, trying to maintain her composure.
Oh archons, she hated how much he makes her feel this way.
She continues watching the performance, every single trick the magicians pull never cease to amaze her, she finds herself gasping and clapping with awe while a faint smile spread across her lips.
The twins then take their final bows and descend into the curtains, before the crowd gather at the opera house's entrance to take their leave.
Amaranthe was about to set foot on the outdoors when a familiar voice calls out her name, she turned around to face him with a curious painted on her face.
Once Lyney caught up with her, he takes a few moments to catch his breath before meeting her eyes with a wide grin on his face.
"Amaranthe! How was the show, my lady?"
"The show is fantastic as always, Mr. Lyney. You and Ms. Lynette's tricks never failed to surprise me."
"Thank you, my lady! Say, would you like a special trick just for you before you and your friend depart?" The magician said with a charming smile.
A trick just for her? Amaranthe would be lying if she says that she isn't interested, so she nodded. Lyney grinned wider before proceeding to pull out a card that has a flower imprinted on it, Amaranthe tilted her head in curiosity. Then, at the sleight of his hand, the card dissappeared and a Rainbow rose took its place.
"For you, my lady." Lyney said with a soft smile.
Amaranthe looks at the flower as her cheeks grow warmer and waer by the minute, she heard him let out a soft chuckle as soon as he caught sight of her reddening face.
"Th- thanks." She takes the Rainbow rose and twirls it in between her fingers to admire its beauty.
Then suddenly, Lyney gave Amaranthe a quick peck on her cheek. When he pulled away, she gently stroked the spot of the kiss, looking at the magician with widened eyes.
"I think i should take my leave now. See you tomorrow, my lady Amaranthe."
Lyney then walked away to meet his waiting sister, Amaranthe stood there, watching his figure getting smaller and smaller before she can no longer see him from her sight.
So many thoughts crowded Amaranthe's confused mind. Her cheeks are warm and decorated with pink hues, her hands are trembling, and she feels like butterflies will burst out of her stomach.
"Ugh what's the matter with me.."
"You're in love that's what" Charlotte said with a wide grin.
Her teal eyed friend's voice startled her, snapping out her trance.
"I saw what happened Amaranthe. Admit it, you like Lyney. Wait no, admit that youre in love with him!"
"For the last time Charlotte, i am not! Plus, what made you come to the conclusion that im in love with him?!"
Charlotte puts on a mock thinking face. "Well first, you cant stop talking about him. Second, you always draw a doodle of him in your work notes and sketchbook. Dont even deny that one, i saw it with my very two eyes! Third, you smile very often around him! A- and the list goes on!"
Amaranthe exasperatedly sighs. "I definitely do not do those!"
"Uh well you do."
The yellow haired girl rolled her eyes before throwing away the rose and walking outside of the opera house. Charlotte luckily caught the rose and followed her.
"C'mon Amaranthe, it wont hurt to admit that you're in love! Its not like being in love with someone is taboo."
"He's a nincompoop. I will never be in love with a nincompoop like him." Amaranthe pouted.
The Steambird journalist sighs before giving her friend a pat on her shoulder. "Im impressed. Really! But unfortunately its not enough, Amaranthe. No matter how hard you try to conceal it, i know that you're in love with Lyney."
Amaranthe glared at her with a sharp look. "Seriously?"
Her look then softens when her gaze then went to the Rainbow rose that's on Charlotte's hand, on the rose that the magician handed to her. She even smiled at the sight of the flower.
"Look at yourself, Amaranthe! You're smiling!"
"No no no no im not! Just leave me alone!" Amaranthe then ran away from Charlotte, trying not to look at the rainbow roses that adorned the street.
She then sat down by the area near the dance floor of Copellia and Copellius, her favorite place of the Court's region. She watched the two automaton dancers elagant twists and twirls, their performance slowly calmed the troubled painter's soul.
Her childhood friend sat down next to her before showing her the flower, gesturing for her to take it.
"You can run away from me, Amaranthe. But, you cant run away from your feelings forever."
Amaranthe looked at her before taking the rose to her hand. She touches its delicate pink petals and take in its sweet scent, shades on pink spreads across her face as she looks back at the time when the flower was given to her.
Rainbow rose. Symbolizes passion and romantic encounters.
She then hid her face on her knees, curling up into a little ball.
"What am i going to do?"
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Author's note: That's all guys! I really hope you guys liked it! I had a lot of fun making this! More Lymaranthe writings coming soon ^^
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alexs-playground · 2 years
Note
You asked for Eddie requests and I am so very gay and in love with that man so-
Himbo reader that is a senior (probably not for the first time) on the wrestling team who everybody knows is gay but nobody says anything because he's intimidating. Maybe they're paired up for a project or something and the reader is just a heart-eyes mf the whole time.
Or
Artsy (trad)goth weirdo reader who everybody at school is scared of but Eddie sees them feeding/talking to birds at his bench (or baby-talking with a stray cat somewhere) and figures that they're actually a softie.
Awwww i love both of these!!! Im gonna do the Artsy goth It sounds so heart warming and adorable.
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CW: fluffy shit that makes you feel all giddy inside :))
No spoilers involved!!!!
It was half-way through fourth period when Eddie got bored of the dumb lecture, he has heard many times before, when he decided to skip. Quickly with the teacher's eyes were on the board did he slip out of the classroom with his stuff and dashing out the school. Deciding that after he put his stuff in his van he would head out to his spot in the woods.
You were sitting on the picnic bench out in the middle of the woods far from the school. You were sketching the surprisingly nice raccoon in front of you. Technically you should be in the art room, but the teacher honestly couldn't care less where you were. Reaching out to pet it, the raccoon was first startled by you quick movements and spikes hanging from your wrists. It soon settled and let you touch them. You let out a huff of relief and smiled giving it light strokes on their head.
Eddie had saw from a distance that you were sat on the bench as he tried to quietly maneuver himself through the trees. He wasn't so surprised to see you, honestly, he thought you were there for a drug deal. thinking back to himself he never remembered having a scheduled "appointment" with you. What shocked him was your aura, to say the least your hardcore devotion to being goth scared everyone, but your face wasn't wearing your usual RBF that was only more extenuated with your heavy eyeshadow. You were smiling and... talking to a raccoon?
The man wasn't really afraid of you he honestly admired you. I mean how could he not you were crowned the freak of all freaks at school. It was when you both first got into high school when you were caught sketching a character that resembled Satan. You didn't try to fit anywhere not even with him and the other so-called freaks.
"I don't see why people are afraid of animals like you. You aren't so vicious are you, little guy." You coo at the animal that snuggles into your and gently gnawing at your fingers. Your soft voice in stark contrast to how you look.
As Eddie drew closer a twig snapped cause your movements to cease and the raccoon to run realizing Eddie was there. You sigh knowing you've been caught out of your facade of "evil" and "brooding". Quickly you reach for your stuff to collect it when Eddie finally speaks up.
"Sorry I didn't mean to intrude on you. I just usually come here when I'm skipping. You don't have to leave." He speaks with a small skittish smile on his face. He may have not been afraid, but he was still nervous as he realized his "admiration" of you was a crush. Something about seeing your soft side even when on accident it lit a flame in him causing his heart to race.
You slowly nod putting your stuff down and relaxing noticing that you were going to be fine around him. Eddie walks around to the other side of the table and sits down flashing you a bigger smile. An idea popped into your head when you saw him smile.
"Could I draw you?" You mumbled out in a soft tone hoping Eddie wouldn't be weirded out.
His head snapped up to meet your eyes a slight blush covering his face. No one has ever asked to draw him, mainly because he isn't the most liked person ever, but it was just new. Smile never faltering as he nodded. You pulled your sketch book out in front of you again flipping to a new page kind of embarrassed you were just sketching a raccoon. The sounds of your pencil sliding all across the paper filled the silence perfectly.
Eddie took the time to look at you now that he is closer to you than any other human being has been. Your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you concentrate only every looking up when you need to. The make-up that covers your eyes is far more detailed when looked at closer from the different shades of blacks and grays to the design.
While you were drawing him, he was painting portrait of you in his head. Your soft expression and vulnerability in that moment would forever be in his brain.
"So, is the goth thing a front or do you truly like dressing like this?" He asks to break the silence. He was genuinely curious. You seemed so soft in this moment it was hard to believe that your style wasn't just a front.
Your face morphed into shock as no one has ever questioned your style, only ridiculed it. You knew Eddie might be the only person who you could ever tell who you truly are.
"Y'know I could ask the same of you the same thing, but since you asked..." you sigh slightly "No it's not a 'ploy' I dress goth 'cause I feel great in it and my personality outside school just happens to oddly contradict with it." I explain
Eddie smiles and leans over the table grabbing the hand that was unconsciously fidgeting nails clawing at the table. You look up at him studying his face trying to read him. His doe-eyes hold so much behind them with his wolfish smile to cover the secrets that lie behind his face.
"Thought so, it's just you seem to resent everyone in school and on the off chance I see you out and about you still do. Then I see you here and you, Y/n, the 'mean and scary' goth of Hawkins...is a softie who enjoys art." He explains coming to a conclusion about you, something he has tried to do since you said "no" to joining the other outcast.
The smile on his face widens once you avert your gaze to the open sketch book page filled with art of his 'Hellfire Club' shirt, sketches of Eddie's side profile, and sketches of his eyes. The heat rushes to your face as you want to erode away to avoid the man that sits across from you. quickly you shove the sketch book into your lap completely out of view from Eddie.
"No need to embarrassed. I'm flattered that the outcast of all outcasts decided to draw me." he giggled as he got up to sit next to you instead of a crossed from.
"Do you think we could start meeting like this?" You ask making Eddie look surprised. He honestly thought you were annoyed with him and only talking to entertain him.
"Uh, Yea...yea I'd like that. Your pretty cool y/n, so I guess I'll continue gracing you with my presence." Eddie slightly jokes pulling a laugh from you.
"Yeah, right I think it's the other way around, sweetheart." You joke back opening up more.
Eddie's face now dusted with blush. As he went to reply, you could hear the faint sound of the school bell saying fifth period would soon start. Sighing you slowly pick yourself and grab your things stuffing them in your bag before turning to Eddie.
"Y'know, let's make the next meet up a date. Saturday night at the arcade at eight o'clock." You say boldly and wink at him before walking off bag slung over one shoulder.
Eddie stares in awe as you disappear between the trees to head back to the school building. You may have been a softie, but you seemed to be more of a flirty tease than him. You didn't think he would actually show up at eight, but you would be proven wrong when he shows up with music blaring from his van and a smile you could see for miles.
"I know you said eight, but.... I have a few things to add to our agenda." Eddie says leaning on the side of his van never once taking his eyes of you.
This was a bit cheesy at the end but I'm pretty proud of this. I'm so sorry that I didn't get this out till now I got wrapped up with family things but voila!!!! -Author
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WOOO HOOO IM ANOTHER YEAR CLOSER TO DEATH AHAHAHAH.
So I’m honor of me being that fun age of ✨27✨
Just spice posts all day.
Starting with the ending storyline for Club 27- Birthday Drabble I started last year.
🌟💀The New Queen of Solar Dead 💀🌟
Enjoy guys thanks for sticking it out with this page. And yeah final warning this is a
🌶️🔥spice🔥🌶️ post
Heavy panting filled the sweltering throne room. The flames that lit the room were burning low just enough light to where you could make out his outlines. His body was built like that of a gold medal olympian. He was currently working out your insides. The muscles that were getting the most defined concentration were his broad arms that held you in place while his hips ceased flogging you from the back.
You were happy that he stopped driving himself into you. Ever since he introduced himself he immediately jumped into raw dogging you. It felt like an eternity already….and Alfred was only just getting started. Your eyes swept over the cobblestone floor hoping and praying that this ruthless dungeon was a reality you wouldn’t have to stay in. You knew this couldn’t be real. It had to be a bad dream. It just has to be!
You jerk your arms like a feral cat trying to flee captivity. To no avail your plan failed as Alfred grip held you down tight. His fingernails dug into your forearms. It caused a few thread-like scratches that drew out some blood.
“AH! STOP!” You shout out.
It was the first time you’d spoken in a while. You quickly found out that no matter how fearsome your pleas were to beg him to stop, he wouldn’t. Why would he, he was the King of Hell. He was going to do with you as he pleased. He lets out an amused chuckle and then proceeds to thrust once more into your backside.
You let out a short squeak.
He rolls his head back and lets his hands grip you tighter. Being able to control you was ecstasy. He felt the thick sexually charged air and his body was doing its best to hold back his fervor. He inhaled deeply and allowed the oxygen to fill his lungs and his chiseled abs. It was all preparation for his final move. Every muscle in his body clenched as if trying to continue to hold onto a plank position for those last few moments before you reached goal. He swiftly pulled himself out from behind and spun you around so your eyes could meet his.
All you could make out from the dim firefly glow was the lining of his lips that showcased his hungry teeth and his brightly lit red eyes that were still famished. Both desired more. So seconds, thirds, and so on would be served until stuffed.
“Hey, babe.” He purrs out to you as if the two of you were nothing more than sweet lovers.
You simply glare at him. You hated him for killing you and bringing you here just for his own amusement. Your breaths were deep and concentrated in your core like scorching magma. You wanted to fight back. You try once more to wriggle free from his tight wedding ring like grasp he had on your forearms.
Aroused and amused that you think you had any chance of breaking free he tries to ease your sorrows by drawing you in with a love drunken kiss. It reeked of longing and pent-up sexual frustration… That seemed to have been spanning a lifetime. Your hands flew for his face and you managed to get his suction cup off but only for a moment.
This angered him.
He snapped his fingers and a heated iron contraption came from the floor. It spread your legs out wide and kept them open. Metal cuffs rubbed against your upper thighs and heated them up causing sweat to glaze over your legs like a freshly buttered bread. More appetizing to the King you now found yourself eternally bound to.
He intertwined his massive calloused hands and encased your smaller ones between his giant roots from a tree settling in. He looks down on you with lustful eyes and all you could do was let out a low whimper. He kissed you on the lips again gently this time. Then whispered to them.
“I’m your King now. And I’m going to have to show you your place, my Queen.”
He hoisted you up to the searing chains that ate away at your soft skin. You let out a loud scream in agony. His desire in his cock stands at attention once more. Desire that thrived off of schadenfreude. He roughly grabbed your waist so he could hold you in place. He rubbed the tip at your entrance to run all of your senses into hundreds of brick walls.
Pleasure and pain are quite a powerful and intoxicating mix.
He began to suck at the skin on your stomach and worked his way up to your soft and supple breasts that were quaking from all of the thrashing movements. He allowed one of his hands to roam up and grope one of your mounds. You tried to yank your leg up to deliver a swift kick but the chains kept you in place. He attached his lips to the other and ran his tongue over your nipple. He pauses for a brief moment and tries not to let his aching dick release just yet. Another deep breath fills his broad chest preparing itself for its next powerful battle tactic. His teeth sink mildly into your breast and you let out a thundering yell that could probably be heard all throughout hell.
Confusion and pain flooded all of your senses, your arms felt like they were melting off and you. Only hints of pleasure popped into your brain in only momentary bursts. The pain was so intense if you could die again just to avoid it you would.
“Please….” you plead in a quivering voice.
His red eyes flicker up to meet yours as he detached himself from your chest. A lightning bolt struck your stomach and made you nervous. A grin spread wide on his face that you didn’t need a lot of light to see because of the amount of mischief that radiated from his lips. The rest of his body was ablaze with lust.
His member jolted against your entrance with a little pre-release. You wanted to slam your legs closed but simply stiffened your muscles in a feeble attempt to stop the incoming blow. The hot rod forced its way in forcing itself into your wet cavern that was writing in pain and pleasure. A disastrous mix that left you breathless.
“Ah….please …. stop ….” You say when you manage to get just enough air into your tired lungs.
Your words fell on deaf ears. He plunged himself into you to your hilt and held you there making you teeter on his cock between opposing sensations that were anxious to consume you.
He kisses your cheek gently and he commands you to shout his name when he resumes his trusting.
“If you can do that my Queen I’ll un-schalke you.” You let out a nod as you finally realized that tears had been streaming down your face.
You whimper out a weak okay.
He brings a hand to your chin and brings you into a French kiss. His tongue wrapped tightly around yours. You feel your arms suddenly fall back down only to collapse on his brawny shoulders. They cling to him for support.
He parts from the kiss he revs himself up and begins to thrust.
“Sing my name y/n! Sing it so loudly the screams of pleasure make it all the way to the ears of heaven!”
A moan at first was all you could manage. But you think of how things could be worse if you didn’t sing for him like a morning bird hyped up on caffeine.
“Ahh…Ahh.. Alfred!” You blurt out in a huff.
“Louder my Queen, that was a little pathetic.”
“ALFRED! AH! AH! !” His pacing began to get faster while his cock got fatter from all the pent up tension building from the passion. Your struggle to say his name appeased Alfred just enough. He was reaching the end of his tread anyways.
“Oh Queen Y/N you’re going to be a great ruler and wife.” He continues to bounce you up and down on his throbbing member that finally burst its seal and milky white spilled everywhere. He threw his head back and moaned out your name he had reached his cloud nine pleasure. It took him a few minutes to ride out his orgasm while you were hardly keeping conscious in his strapping arms that were shimmering with sweat.
He sealed your lips with his as you still struggled with his member. He trails a few kisses on your neck and leading on down your breasts he lingers there for a while causing you to moan but also continue to shake in agony. The chains are still hot against your wrists. Your arms had been disfigured and recreated by the lava like embers. Your once clear skin now had ancient writing that looked like lace but had thick strokes like it was etched in barbarically.
Alfred’s claiming curse.
You suck in another sharp breath as you suddenly feel your arms drop onto a soft silk surface. The rest of your body followed suit. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You were happy to not be sewn into the wall while your insides were being filled to the brim.
You allowed your eyes to close for you knew that nothing you’d say would convince a Demon King to let you go.
Alfred allows his body to hover over you hauntingly. He lowers his head and allows his lips to linger close to the nape of your neck and give you a hickey. He moves to the other side of your neck and bare his large fangs and digs them in deep into your soft and sweaty flesh.
Your eyes shoot open at the intense intrusion of enamel into your flesh. The flood that had begun to pour out as if holding back an ocean. You could feel hot blood rush down your back. Your face scrunched in pain while you began to notice you felt as light as a feather.
Alfred licked the bite area clean after sucking up as much blood from your neck as he could.
He looked at your half lidded eyes that were unconcentrated. He gives a small chuckle and an award winning smile appears on his face. He grabs right below his curse mark that is on your wrists and whispers softly to you. You could feel the intense heat that radiated off of his toned body.
“Welcome to your new reality Y/N where you’ll always be beneath me. Now, let's go get cleaned.” He picks you up and leads you to his grand bathing room where he’ll clean your wounds and pamper you for the rest of the night. He knows full well that you won’t recover from this encounter for a while.
As he ran the bath into his coal black tub no thoughts really passed through your subconscious. You were unsure of what to do. You simply looked down at your bare feet and concentrated on the Stygian marble floor that had elongated cracks of silver and gold that trailed through the wide room flowing up the walls. You let your mind wander as it couldn’t hear the rushing water fill the room with steam and intoxicating fragrances like fresh lavender, bergamot, and sea salt.
‘Perhaps I’m lucid dreaming right? I have to be. No way in hell any of this is real. Or I have lost my mind. I really have…but why did that feel so real. That sex really did feel real.’
The demon watches you glide your feet back and forth as you swing your legs on the elegant window seat that overlooks one of the volcanoes that America controlled. The scarlet, violet, navy, and dusky sky blended together to make up the sky of the Solar deadzone. The smog that consumed the sky that night and your mind wouldn’t be going away. It would linger in the corner of your mind like an impervious tar.
Alfred walks over to you and hoists you up into his strong arms. It was the first time that you actually got to look at his face. Black hair hung low in his eyes that were now a dark cobalt hue and it had a heavy contrast with his pale skin. He had an ever present from on his face that showed off his K9’s. So of your own blood still on the surface of his pearly whites.
He stepped into the 4 feet deep bathtub that looked like a chasm with a few lights that shined through the darkened water and bubbles that overflowed at the surface. You couldn’t help but be dazzled by the monochrome orbs of soap that distracted you from your grim fate you’d been assigned to.
You descended into the heated water that instantly calmed your overstressed muscles.
A sigh leaves you and a smile spreads on Alfred's face as he allows his long thin tail to wrap around your thighs he grabs a loofah and begins to scrub off the dry blood on your back.
Silence and the sloshing of water continued for the rest of the night in dim candlelight. Once done some servants brought libations and snacks for the King and Queen of the Solar Dead Zone. This is the first full night of Queen (Y/N).
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braemjeorn · 1 year
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CHAPTER IX [masterlist]
pairing: bang chan x ofc
genre: general audience
notes/warning: regency period drama; ballrooms; dancing!
wordcount: 2.1k
summary: the night can lend to a new angle of perception
also available in ao3, if you prefer that format
© Do not repost, copy, or republish into another site or under another name.
⚠️ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.
TAGLIST: @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big
[The dance scene was from Emma 2020 if you ever get confused by the motion descriptions.]
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Mari led the boys out to the terrace after dinner. The meals rendered them sedate enough but not too fatigued that they’d fuss. For now, they were content to peer through the glass doors, meeting their father’s winking eyes as he escorted an older lady down the dancing line. If it ceased to entertain them, they’d run about Mari on her bench or chase each other, being merry in their games.
“Oh, Miss Son, how could you read so?” Hyunjin exclaimed, sitting beside her, breathless after escaping Jeongin’s chase.
“For an odd reason I found my time to read now,” Mari replied, settling down her book. “I have things to do in the day and to help in the afternoons. Then the drawing-room assemblies are too vivacious with all your chatter and music, and my nights are too tiring!”
“But it’s a ball!” Hyunjin insisted, giggling when Mari frowned at his lilting tone. Her hand brushed into his rustled hair, “And what a grand party it is. So many people are here.”
Lady Jang had mentioned how nice it would be to allow the young ladies and gentlemen of the village to mingle. With her novel appearance in the country, the number of invitations had been a success. At least twenty families making up their neighbours accepted. Others came from farther up north or towards the east. Barlnshore was never so lively: bright in a thousand candles, dancing, and music. One can attest to Baroness Jang's competence as a hostess.
“Miss Son, you should dance!” Hyunjin exclaimed.
“Governesses don’t dance, Hyunnie,” Mari laughed.
“‘Tis a waste of your lovely dress!” the boy whined again, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Purple is very beautiful on you.”
“Why, thank you. I think so myself.” Mrs Moon had insisted Mari wear the dress; old but of such fine satin and muslin. The governess was reluctant. Her eyes delighted in it but felt the dress was too rich for her station. It is in plain purple, with bulbous sleeves at the top, and fitting down her wrist. In the end, Minatozaki-san insisted. She might as well have something nice to wear for the ball instead of her plain cotton and linens. Mari should consider it a gift for her hard work. Might as well make it some sort of welcoming gift to the family. In the end, the governess relented; privately her vanity and confidence were pleased as the older women praised how well the dress suited her.
”Though it’s hardly the mode,” Jisung observed, having approached with his twin.
Hyunjin shrugged, “Still lovelier than her grey dresses.”
“Then stop being a cat by pressing to her side and wrinkle her sleeve so,” said the approaching Minho. Hyunjin let out his tongue—and was jabbed in the ribs by the eldest. Seungmin crashed into Mari's lap in the scuffle.
“Miss Son, I want to dance,” he declared, muffled in her lap.
“I don’t see why not,” she sighed, on her way to relenting. Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin had asked for dancing lessons with her since two weeks ago.
“There’s no partner your age, Mong,” Minho said. Hyunjin had had a thorough reprimanding and stilled the elder’s hand in his grip. “No child would be allowed to a party.”
“Should we invite our cousins the Hwas then?” Hyunjin asked.
“We can only see them during the holidays,” Minho replied.
“If they don’t live far away, we can have a little party at the twin’s birthday, or Seungmin’s,” Mari offered. “You can dance and play in the gardens.”
One set was finished in the ballroom and claps followed the final tune.
“That was a beautiful picture,” she mused about the view into the window, joining to clap as well.
“Miss Son, they’re doing the waltz next!” Hyunjin murmured. With some flourish, he stood before her and bowed, “May I have the honour, Miss Son? Please?”
Changbin cooed and Minho cackled; the others giggled. With a twinkle in his eyes, Mari tilted her chin, and offered her hand, “I hope you know the steps well, Master Hyunjin.”
“But you’ve taught me a little, haven’t you?”
“Very well then! You’re in luck; this is one of my favourites. Come!” Mari led them to the open terrace, circled by rose shrubs.
“Well now, the customary greetings — ” Hyunjin bowed, and she curtsied “ — Well done. Now, our right hands together— Very good and… step forward slightly, with a sway. Now the lady is supposed to turn under...—”
“Try Miss Son?” Mari conceded, crouching herself awkwardly in the replication.
“The other hand, now,” she chuckled. “Sway, and—your turn…”
“Appa!” Yongbok exclaimed.
Mari and Hyunjin paused, turning towards the door. Commodore Bang waved a hand over at his boys from the terrace door, an amused smile in place. He approached the pair, who bowed and explained their predicament.
“Then allow me?” Commodore Bang offered his hand to Mari. She stared at him and in finding his warm eyes, felt no hesitation to rest her hand in his.
“A demonstration, Hyunjin, do well to remember it,” said the Commodore
“All right!”
Commodore Bang led her a few steps further, the same moment the violinist began the new song.
“You like this song?” he asked as a smile broke through Mari.
“I do.” They sway forward again, coming close to one another, twice with exchanged hands. It needed no saying that by such affination Mari was well accustomed to the steps. The hold was released, but Commodore Bang offered it again, to turn her around so that she now stands where he was. By then Mari was already quite giddy with the motions.
“I’m sorry,” she said between her chuckles, pleasure rushing from sheer dancing. It had been some while, but Mari knew how to comport herself to a graceful dancer. They lay their hands over one another between them, turning in circles. Commodore Bang then held her hand and raised it over her head so that she might turn under, now in a proper manner. The turns relieved her—when they stepped away to turn with the nonexistent other pair. The Commodore stared as she couldn’t seem to curb her smile. So Mari took a deep breath, more composed to face him again, letting him lead her under the turn again to the other side.
They faced one another again, exchanged a little bow, and together they stepped up the line before settling then clapped their hands to the beat. Mari curtsied, rising back with her elbow up and her hand before her, which the Commodore crossed with his. Another sway to the left side—Commodore Bang extended his hands that their hands held before and behind their waists. The warm candlelight fell over his face as they turned, illuminating his eyes and smile.
The change in his manners had awed Mari, often leaving her bewildered. Whatever happened to the man who dressed in nothing but black and dark shades; with hard eyes and a down-turned mouth?—Now his waistcoat was covered in small blue blossoms, and he was dancing! And how well he does it! He was graceful, and never out of pace; with gentle, easy hands leading her to turns.
Mari saw him earlier with Lady Jang, he had opened it sprightly with the cotillion. But of course, Lady Bang had been a proficient musician—Mari supposed they would have shared the interest. She was happy for him, that his heart was in such a light state for such entertainment.
“Oh, forgive me!” Her occupied thoughts made her miss descending the line again. But the Commodore led her through it, then they faced one another again. Her mind was vacant of the next step, but he offered his hand before her mortification could surge. They swayed forwards once, and then he moved his palm to her waist and took her hand, turning them both.
The tune stopped, and so it ended. Commodore Bang's brown eyes — golden in the light — seemed too close to hers. Mari shifted from her stunned stance; he released her. She stepped away, holding her hand to her thumping breast, laughing out the nerves.
“Enjoyed it?”
“Very much, sir” Mari nodded. “Oh, I had forgotten how pleasant it can be.”
There were claps from the boys, and Mari’s hand raised to cover her cheeks. Commodore Bang joined the claps, and somehow her heart was full. His eyes maintained a pleased glint when she looked at him. Their exchanged smiles pulled out laughter, which scrunched his eyes and showed his glinting teeth.
“Thank you,” Mari said. She bowed to him, grateful that he had attended her most kindly—most gentlemanly. Commodore Bang gave her a bow.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he replied.
By that time the boys began to scramble close to them, and he turned to wrestle them into his hold.
“In other occasions, you might have enjoyed the company of more suitable partners,” Commodore Bang remarked. Seungmin had been wrangled to stay between his legs.
Mari shook her head. “Nay, Commodore, these seven rascals are enough alternatives.”
“Aren’t you dizzy?” Seungmin asked.
“You turned around lots,” Yongbok added.
“My turn again?” Hyunjin asked, already reaching to lead Mari's hand.
Commodore Bang shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s bedtime, petit danseur.”
“It can’t be!” cried the boy in despair as his father showed his watch.
“Quite right, we must say goodnight.” Mari ushered them to bid goodnights, then approached Jeongin. He's slumped against a beady-eyed, quiet Minho.
“What’s that whine, lad?” Mari asked the youngest. “Tired or tired?”
“Miss Son,” Jeongin giggled and merely reached out his hand when Mari prompted him to stand. Her response was a blase stare, but she gave him her hand and led him to bid his father goodnight. Commodore Bang pulled him up, almost throwing him into the air.
“My Jeongin’s a big boy now, hmm?” he gushes, brushing over the boy's shaking head. “No?”
“I’m still small,” Jeongin stated, nuzzling under his chin.
“Indeed that you are,” Commodore Bang nosed his soft black hair and gave him his peck. “Goodnight, cub.”
Jeongin hummed, and his head lolled towards Mari, arms extended. The governess sighed; Commodore Bang chuckled.
“Aish, to think you’re almost six.” Jeongin was transferred to her hold, but Mari hardly bothered to fix her hold and settled him the way he came.
“You’ve danced quite a bit in a single night,” Lady Jang said to the Commodore, who followed a few steps away from his boys. "More than I've seen in a single night."
“Miss Son, he’s all tilted!” Jisung giggled, coming close to touch Jeongin’s head, lower than his legs. Among further giggles and teasing, Mari set the youngest right on the floor, and then shooed the others inside. Lady Jang was by the glass door, in the entire regality of her deep mauve gown watching the view. Each of them bid her goodnight, before crossing the room to reach the main stairs.
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He tucked her arms under his, leading her into the dining room. “Mustn't I be the gracious host, and attend to my guests? You've set the example, after all, dear Anette.”
“What’s with your face?” Changbin asked for Minho had looked quite the simpleton. He was giggling with wide eyes, despite restraining himself to appear composed among the guests.
Lady Jang gave and said no more but a smile, though she observed him a great deal as they returned inside.
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“What?” the eldest returned, guiltless.
“You look as if someone struck you with a pie, yet it fell upon your legs instead; so now you laugh because you know not whether to be angry or to find it entirely stupid, therefore—”
Minho cackled like a witch at the allegory, at which many heads turn. Changbin gave them his sweetest smile, hoping to bide their attention. He pulled Minho closer as they climbed the stair— none too gently. It has been long since such enthusiasm overcame the eldest, and Changbin knew the particulars well.
“Please consult me on this mischief—I must grant some consideration to your random schemes, as usual.”
“Oh no, indeed!” Minho hiccuped, without depleting amusement. “’Tis no mischief. Absolutely not! But it is equally amusing.”
Changbin’s intrigue gave him some pause, but soon he demanded, “Tell me.”
“No.”
Now that is unacceptable. “Hyung!”
“No.”
“Hyung…!”
“Boys!” Mari sharply cut the whine. One must separate the terrors which are Changbin and Minho, before their raised voices and their aggravated conversation disturb others. “Anything the matter?”
“Nothing!” both exclaimed. With a note to their guileless face, Mari turned away, ushering the twins from their scheming.
“In further contemplation it might even be dangerous to divulge,” Minho considered, his face falling grave.
“You went from amusing to dangerous—!?”
Minho's hand covered the younger's mouth, and he retrieved it with a yelp when it was kissed. Changbin gestures two fingers to his own eyes, then to Minho’s, insistent till the end.
“Get to sleep, brat," Minho hissed, urging the other into their room. "The thought might simmer more sensibly tomorrow."
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[OKAY IM SORRY THIS IS LATE BY AEONS BUT DISASTER HAPPENED AND I THOUGHT I WAS DONE FOR BUT HERE—what do you think of our babies, they got a dance scene ^♡^!!]
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inkedbantam · 1 year
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Cecylle, the Skybreaker
[images under text]
A character I've revived from the dead that needs a bit of a introduction. Not just any introduction, but one with a bit of a backstory
Since I've been getting back into Yugioh again as it's a huge comfort of mine, this guy decided to haunt my dreams again a little while ago, and they're probably one of my oldest characters ever to date, even older than Venias, my main sona. Dating from around 2005/2006, while Venias was from 2012/2013.
Cecylle (or Charlie as they used to be called) was a yugioh duelmonster OC that I made originally as a contest entry to that one YGO custom card contest when I was in like, second grade iirc. I never actually got to send the entry in at all, but Cecylle found a place in my heart as a smol kid. Having 0 concept of actual character development, they were a Mary Sue and I ended up making a whole AU of this guy being Yugi's pet, masquerading as a regular house cat until he was needed in a duel.
Yeahhh, lil kid me was something else. But Cecylle was a representation of the innocence I had as a wee kid and as the manifestation of every hope and dream I had as a kid. To me, he was also an imaginary friend I could take comfort in, becoming more than just a character to me. Because he was connected to a huge comfort in a really dark time in my childhood, I leaned on this character for a little bit of light in the darkness.
He very much faded away quietly, and without much notice, due to life situations at the time. And for years Cecylle just. Ceased to be. A part of me ceased to be a long with him, though I didn't realize it at the time.
I did draw him alot, and doodled him wherever I could, however none of those arts cannot be recovered due to circumstances out of my control.
There was only one surviving image doodled of him in 2013, and unfortunately was the only surviving image of him to date.
Which was this image from my very first DA:
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Not that great, but back then I thought I was hot shit, a greenhorn to online communities
Now that he decided to return and haunt my dreams, I've decided to give him a deserved redesign and ref, for myself. Reviving this character was (and still is) a huge deal to me and redesigning him, I'm resurrecting the will to keep on dreaming, to keep on going with art, even with how shit I feel right now, and as a promise to myself. He'll get a brand new story, and I will be trying to focus on him quite a bit. Cecylle had a huge spot in my heart, and it's time for him to return to that spot.
Welcome back buddy. It's been a long time old friend, and we've both changed quite a lot. But it's so good to see you again.
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o5-blackbird · 1 year
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Visibility: Not visible IC to anons or characters! Word Count: 1115 CW: Mentions of death but nothing very descriptive! Notes: This is Part Twoof about a three part drabble! All of these drabbles will take place during the same day and conversation.
“Continuing on…” The woman began softly, drawing Green’s attention back to her. The woman glanced up, each of their gazes connecting for a few cold moments. Green; cold from mild interest masked as disinterest. The woman; cold simply by nature. “... You would like to continue, is that correct?”
Green waited a moment before nodding, gesturing loosely. “I am here, am I not?”
“Of course…” The woman quietly said before looking back down, adjusting a folder before continuing. “A period of turmoil began, mirroring the history of many of those who reside here. One of the Brights was taken into your organization’s custody. Another vanished while two others joined the Foundation; only for one of them to defect. The Black Cat took her exit from your organization, carving a chunk from it and dragging many along with her.” She takes one of the folders and sets it aside. 
She continues. “The Elder passes. The Black Cat and him are each replaced by Thomas Bolton and Mikell Bright respectively. Adam Bright leaves – assumedly to make room for his son. He is replaced by Omar Ulawe.” Each of the folders are sorted into their respective piles. “Hanes Callick is assassinated by the Insurgency due to old grudges. He is replaced with someone unknown.” Another pause to sort the files. “Stone becomes disillusioned and self-destructive. His actions result in him being asked to leave. He is replaced with Diane Walters.” A final sorting.
She pauses as she calmly looks down at the various stacks. One stack containing The Black Cat, Adam Bright, and Stone. Another stack containing the names of the three students; Frost, The Forgotten, and The Kid alongside The Father of Lies, The Elder and Out-of-Place. … Then the third stack.
The third stack containing the names of the infamous twelve. The Founder, The Gardener, an unknown Three, The Ambassador, The Ordinary Man, The Cowboy, Teeth, Magnolia, an Unknown Nine, The Archivist, Jings, and The Accountant.
… It was not difficult for Green to let her eyes drift across each of the files, recalling the various recorded ends between the many.
Then her gaze drifted back to the woman, landing solely on the single file remaining beside her.
“But… That is not all,” Green softly said, her eyes trained solely on the file beside her. It made sense. The Council was a Council of twelve… With the addition of an occasional and hardly ever significant Tiebreaker. “There were others.”
The woman remained quiet for a moment before giving a single nod. “There were others.”
The two watched each other closely, as if each was waiting for the other to speak up and cover the gaps in their understanding. 
In the end, it was the woman who spoke.
“In the thirty years leading up to the event that took out the former iteration of your Council – the event that seated you and your colleagues – there were five recorded to have voted as non-member entities. Unfortunately, it seems that the documentation that we were able to collect on these entities preferred to default to focussing solely on the votes that they participated in; rather than the entities themselves.”
She took a moment to open the folder before continuing. “Tiebreaker A.P. voted on two matters within those thirty years, the first being in 1907 and the second being in 1909.One vote initiated the Foundlings program while another set up more solidified distinctions in the Foundation's goals. Evidence suggests that Tiebreaker A.P. has some association with one of the other Council members, as her voting occurred for some time prior near the beginning of the establishment and only ceased at the same time as her departure from your Foundation.”
“Tiebreaker M.F. voted on three matters within those thirty years; 1913, 1917, and 1919. Each matter was in the area of documentation. We do not have verification on this matter but we believe Tiebreaker M.F. to have been considered for an alternative position to replace the then O5-10 ‘The Archivist’ but-”
“You don’t know what happened to them.”
“... That is correct.” She trailed off for a moment, watching Green closely as if waiting for her to fill the silence on what may have occurred with the Tiebreaker. When the silence continued, however; the woman chose to continue. “We understand that their position as a Tiebreaker was not implemented again and that they have since been considered a self-termination. We assume that they are not with us any longer due to a lack of substantial documentation such as found with the former Tiebreaker.”
Green hummed softly. “Not an inaccurate assumption… Who is next?”
“That would be Tiebreaker A.K., implemented on a single vote on the topic of budgets in 1920. We do not have further documentation of A.K. We do know that the vote resulted in a slight budget cut to the fields of the Foundlings and research between a number of smaller sites – none of which appear to be particularly significant. There are not any records of them before this vote as well as any records of them after this vote.”
“So you have documentation on only one out of three.” Green couldn’t help but crack a small smirk at the woman. Even now, she couldn’t help but find amusement in the small gaps of understanding that the woman was so quick to admit. “That is not looking good for you.”
The woman calmly raised her eyes again, watching Green for a moment before looking back down and continuing. “You will be more disappointed to know that we do not have much information on Tiebreaker D.W. – seeming to also be referred to as Tiebreaker L.F. on a number of records. This information claims that this Tiebreaker was implemented on four security measures; once in 1926, twice in 1930, and once in 1936. Each time, this Tiebreaker voted in favor of tighter security. There were not anymore records of them after their vote in 1936. We believe them to have been among your deceased during your… Event.”
“... There were many that died that day. I would not be surprised.”
“Neither would I.”
The two remained quiet for a moment, the woman gently running her thumb over the next page. 
Green frowned as her gaze trailed down and she took note. “… How about the other one? What was their name?”
The woman blinked for a moment, flipping to the final page and looking at it for a few seconds before adjusting her posture slightly. For a split second, she seemed to be considering her actions carefully before she slowly leaned fully forward and set the folder in front of Green.
“Tiebreaker A.T.”
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katealot · 1 year
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Getting To Know You Tag Game
(as tagged by @dumbest-ass)
what book are you currently reading?
I currently have Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist on my nightstand awaiting the first day of January to crack into (I have to schedule my reading to keep it fresh and exciting and interesting)
what do you usually wear?
What an excellent question. I read once that you are either a “big top, tiny bottoms” kind of person or and “tiny top, big bottoms” kind of person. I am a “tiny top, big bottoms” kind of person.
how tall are you?
5’6”!
what’s your star sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?
libra! (but very much a virgo cusp). And Bruce Springsteen, apparently! That rules, he’s like one of my rock heros.
do you go by your name or a nickname?
Oh absolutely nicknames. I have such a detached sense of identity with my name that I’ll accept just about any nickname someone will throw at me. Katja. Vicky. BK. Kaybe. Cottoe. It’s all me, baybe.
did you grow up to become what you wanted to be as a child?  
You know, if I’d have answered this 3 days ago when I’d been tagged I would have been hesitant to say yes, but yeah, I have. I am the type of person to drop my information with a company that I just thought did good work and would like to be apart of, AND the type of person to get an email back.
(I know that’s not exactly what the question is asking but tomatoe, tomato)
what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at?
Giving compliments. I like to think I kinda wear my heart on my sleeve so people can tell that when I give them a compliment I mean it 100% sincerely. I’m like a validation station, get in here and I’ll tell you why you’re wonderful.
There is however one thing I’m not good at, and that’s being humble. *Gina Linetti voice* Because I’m great at it.
No but actually, my severe anxiety keeps me from genuinely accepting compliments from others a lot of the time
if you draw/write, or create in any way, what's your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?
Because I’ve actually answered this question before, I’m going to depart from the q a bit to bring up my favorite piece of writing of all time so far which is chapter 10 of my fanfiction Like the Back of My Hand: The Best First Date Ever.
I do a lot of re-reading of my work when I am suffering from writers block and this is still a piece of writing that gives me butterflies to read because I feel every time like I am enjoying it as a reader and not as an author.
dogs or cats?
Gods, cats
what's something you would like to create content for?
The open ending of the Magnus Archives, aka “Somewhere Else”. I have a long form idea that I think could really be good if I ever actually sit down to write it. Oh, and IT (2017). There’s one story idea I’ve had in my head since the movie cane out that has not lost clarity since 2017.
what’s something you’re currently obsessed with?
waldeinsamkein and mutterseelenallein
what's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?
Moving to a new place. But I wouldn’t say it was disappointing so much as I think it ended up being underwhelming. I am much happier here and almost every aspect of my quality of life have improved, but the monotony of routine has not ceased. I still have a job and rent to pay, ya know?
what’s a hidden talent of yours? 
hehe, I can make the oddly specific but freakily accurate sound effect of whipped cream being squirted from a canister with just my mouth
what's something you wish to have at this moment? 
Evidence that people think about the things I say after I say them.
I hope you learned something from that round of ice-breaker-questions-seeking-much-more-literal-answers-than-they-got. If you would like to play this game, please consider yourself tagged by me and make sure u tag me in your post so I can learn more about you lovely folks :)
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