#and of course it will be a form without pigmentation
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✨Him✨
What is he thinking about? You tell me
#tolkien#silmarillion#jrr tolkien#melkor#morgoth#silm art#tolkien art#digital art#my art#i bet he got a bit to interested in mairons look instead of mairons war plans#pushing my melkor lost his ability to create color since he had to be pretty as that was how the humans described him#and he had to have been hit with a drastic change in his form(s) for the theft of the silmarils#and i hc him as original blue eyes#i also hc ainur cant change their eye color like they can change how much sclera iris and pupil show but thats it#so being used to see him as blue eyed suddenly meeting a cloud of black smoke with red eyes you gotta assume the worst#so yes i still think he can change his form although it gets harder the more he pures himself into arda and the more insane he gets#and he has his preferable he feels best in#and of course it will be a form without pigmentation#mairon cant decide if he wanna sleep with him or study him under a microscope
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burden - errorink fic
Ink sat in a hammock of string, dangling idly above Error’s beanbag. The anti-void was far from his favorite place, it was cold in a way that couldn’t make you shiver. Cold like the hollow in his chest where a soul would have been.
Ink was convinced he could fix it with some murals, but Error refused to let him anywhere near his void if he carried any form of pigment— a frequent source of controversy between them. But it was the only place Error was willing to be during an episode, so Ink forced himself there— that’s what a person in love would do, right?
He stayed up there for a good while, swinging his arms up and using the strings as an aerial silks course… until Error groaned softly from below. The destroyer had been glitching badly all day, his body racked with painful twitches and convulsions, the glowing symbols and alerts blocking his eyes, which frequently teared up— at a few points that day Ink had even seen blood leaking from a slash across his glitching torso.
Ink tried painting magic onto him, it didn’t do much except turn him and his beanbag fun colors. He had waved chocolate in front of him, and all the glitch had done was whimper. It seemed like the two of them were just going to have to wait it out, like they always had…
But while Ink was up in that string web, twirling and twisting and trying to entertain himself, Error sat up and screeched.
“Bug?” was all Ink could blurt out inbetween his partner’s screams, but the nickname seemed to register in Error’s panicked mind. ‘Bug’, like a computer bug, an endearing little name Ink had called him for so long just to annoy him, now being used to soothe him.
By the time his glitches had faded enough for him to see, all Error’s mismatched eye lights could register was someone tucking him in. He was still screaming, he thought, but maybe it was a hallucination. He couldn’t tell with most things during glitch attacks, but he did know one thing— he was talking. To someone. Someone he loved.
He hadn’t loved anyone in a very long time, had he? And although it wasn’t how he thought, this person did love him back, didn’t they?
As Ink finished tucking Error in and trying to calm him down, his yellow and red eye sockets locked onto Ink’s, and through a garbled, repeating, broken radio of a throat, he managed to whisper two words.
“take it.”
Ink stared, wondering what his partner could possibly mean, before the glitch grabbed at his shirt and moaned in pain. his eye flared with a forced spasm of magic, and within seconds his soul was clearly visible, hovering above his chest. Ink made some horrible sound, he had never seen someone take out their own soul just to avoid pain… but those words echoed again.
“take it,”
This time, it was followed by a desperate, pained “please.” Error would never plead with anyone for anything ever, so this situation was clearly… well, for lack of a better term, an anomaly.
And although Ink wouldn’t say it, this would benefit him too. Just once, he wanted to have a soul. Just… once. Was he putting himself first? Probably. Do people in love do that? He didn’t know, a voice in his head said otherwise, but he chose to ignore it. Without hesitation, he plucked Error’s destabilizing soul from his chest, and absorbed it.
First came the pain, blinding and screaming and searing across his chest and belly…
Then came the EMOTION. He could almost touch it, it was so strong in the air around him. he wanted to fold himself up and cry and throw up… but fortunately, the part of his brain that wanted to learn to love took over.
The artist linked ink-stained, spindly fingers around tremor ridden thick ones, and whispered something just as anomalous as Error’s whispered plea.
“is this okay?”
From the now-still glitch came a croaked reply, inaudible but clear in meaning. Error needed help, someone to help him carry his soul when it began to fall apart. Ink knew he’d probably always be there to pick up the pieces… but Error sure hadn’t. One exhausted glance between them dissolved into weak giggles, leading to an Undernovela binge and pizza night… and for the first time, the two of them actually felt like they knew what it was to be loved.
#error sans#error x ink#errorink#ink sans#errink#ink#ink x error#inkerror#my fic#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#my wriitng#my wriring#gay#glitches#geno sans#mentioned
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Oh STFU, mind your business 🙄
I sent those asks on that bitch Toadstool's end because she is a rabid anti that of course hasn't shut the fuck up about Addiction Verse!
It was pretty hilarious to watch her get mad that I called her a cumrag since she really acts like one...
Tf is weird about me stating she is an addiction???
She sure has no life, when she shoulda worry more about real people!
Grass is a plant with narrow leaves growing from the base. A common kind of grass is used to cover the ground in a lawn and other places. Grass gets water from the roots in the ground. Grass is usually pigmented with the colour ‘green’. Grasses are monocotyledon, herbaceous plants.
The grasses include the "grass", of the family Poaceae (also called Gramineae). Also sometimes it is used to include the sedges (Cyperaceae) and the rushes (Juncaceae). These three families are not closely related but belong to different clades in the order Poales. They are similar adaptations to a common life-style.
The true grasses include cereals, bamboo and the grasses of lawns (turf) and grassland. Uses for graminoids include food (as grain, sprouted grain, shoots or rhizomes), drink (beer, whisky), pasture for livestock, thatching thatch, paper, fuel, clothing, insulation, construction, sports turf, basket weaving and many others.
Many grasses are short, but some grasses, like bamboo can grow very tall. Plants from the grass family can grow in many places, even if they are very cold or very dry. Several other plants that look similar but are not members of the grass family are also sometimes called grass; these include rushes, reeds, papyrus, and water chestnut.
Grasses are an important food for many animals, like deer, buffalo, cattle, mice, grasshoppers, caterpillars, and many other grazers. Unlike other plants, grasses grow from the bottom, so when animals eat grass they usually do not destroy the part that grows. Without grass, dirt can wash away into rivers (erosion). Graminoids include some of the most versatile plant life-forms. They became widespread toward the end of the Cretaceous. Fossilized dinosaur dung (coprolites) have been found containing grass phytoliths (silica stones inside grass leaves).[Grasses have adapted to conditions in lush rain forests, dry deserts, cold mountains and even intertidal habitats, and are now the most widespread plant type. Grass is a valuable source of food and energy for many animals.Lawn grass is often planted on sports fields and in the area around a building. Sometimes chemicals and water is used to help lawns to grow.
People have used grasses for a long time. People eat parts of grasses. Corn, wheat, barley, oats, rice and millet are cereals, common grains whose seeds are used for food and to make alcohol such as beer.
Sugar comes from sugar cane, which is also a plant in the grass family. People have grown grasses as food for farm animals for about 4,000 years. People use bamboo to build houses, fences, furniture and other things. Grass plants can also be used as fuel, to cover roofs, and to weave baskets. n English, the word "grass" appears in several phrases. For example:
"The grass is always greener on the other side" means "people are never happy with what they have and want something else." "Don't let the grass grow under your feet" means "Do something". "A snake in the grass" is about a person that will not be honest and will trick others. Grass is sometimes used as a slang term for cannabis (also called pot, weed, or marijuana)
#seriously dude fuck off#leave me alone#leave my moot alone#you say antis dni#and then come into my inbox#you bitch#please shut the fuck up#tw weed#tw cannabis
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Ocean tears and
heart-shaped flames
(one shot)



♡ -> Edmund Pevensie x reader
Summary: The Pevensie siblings are leaving Narnia after winning the war. Over the past months, your love for Edmund grew stronger, to the point that you can't bear even the thought of letting him go.
-> Content & warning: SPOILERS OF THE 2ND MOVIE!, angst, fluff, fem!reader, narrated in 1st person, human girl that has been living in Narnia for a while, there is already a formed bond between Edmund and the reader.
-> word count: 1k
-> (a/n): finally watched Narnia! I loved it so much and I love my beautiful boy Edmund <3 hope you enjoy!
Sorry in advance if there are some misspelled words/grammar/phrases,etc. English is not my first language!!
Divider by @saradika-graphics
I found myself on the verge of tears, eyes burning like the flaming hot fire inside my heart, my chin trembles as i try to shut my mouth about this unspoken feelings, i hug each sibling and i put my soul into doing it tightly, because i may never see them again, this thought consumes my mind and one single tear finally slips from my eyes and lands on Edmund’s shoulder, i feel how he caresses my hair, a touch that i’ve felt before, coming from his own hands, always and only by his soft and caring hands.
They always knew how to take care of me, how to understand me, how to love me.
I open my eyes while my chin is still laying on Edmund’s shoulder, i engage eyes with Peter, the boy who knows it all, all about my feeling towards his lovely brother, he knew right away and he told me about it, he laughs at me everytime he remembers how much i tried to deny it, out of fear of course, i’ve never had experienced this kind of love inside of my body, and as a human girl who lived long enough on Narnia surrounded only by centaurus, fauns, and other creatures, seeing a human boy after a long time was clearly a shocking moment.
But that wasn’t the only thing, that was not the only reason why i love him, it’s not like i love him only because he is a human boy like me, i love him because he is brave, he is intelligent, funny, and so caring.
The first time i knew i was completely drawn to him was that time we were resting our backs on a giant tree, just enjoying the air and chatting as usual, i noticed those times how he really always listened to what i was saying, the way he always told me he wanted to get to know me better and he really showed it.
That time i caught myself admiring his face, the shape of his freckles, the pink pigment of his lips, his pearly and cute teeth, the way the rays of the sun would hit his face, i noticed that too, how his skin glowed and his freckles became a softer shade of brown, and how some of them were so light brown they would disappear when the sun hitted them, and how his black hair also seemed to turn a more brownish color. At that moment I knew that I was madly in love with him, with his whole presence, with even his soul.
And now months later we find ourselves saying goodbye, with victory in our hands after the war, but at what cost?, how much happiness can you feel and embrace from a fulfilled prophecy when that also means saying goodbye to someone you love, without them knowing how much you fancy them?.
It was driving me crazy, but quietly.
Slowly pulling away from his embrace and catching his eyes on the way, while thinking maybe this was the last time that I would get a glimpse of those beautiful brown eyes, the way they shine, the way they look at me, wishing that maybe that was “the look of love”.
My legs grow weak when I see him slowly disappearing into the tree portal. I cannot bear this loss, i need to let him know..that i-i
“I love you!” i scream, feeling like my body got out of the comfort zone, like i broke the shell and i finally let myself breath the air and fill my lungs for the first time, absolutely everyone now looks at me and i’m embarrassed now that every single person is watching me tear up, but i only focus on Edmund who is also looking at me, in shock, his mouth is slightly open and his eyes shine in a different way, his eyebrow raised and connecting a little in the center.
His whole body returns to Narnia and he comes running to me, he arches down his body and grabs me by the legs, the spins me in the air while we both smile and look at eachother, he gets me down to hold me tight against his chest, i drown in his scent, and the fire inside my heart burns through my chest, i am a phoenyx, i am reborn again as i am being held by the man i love with all my life.
He pulls me out of the hug to look at my eyes for a moment, i see the tears also coming out and rolling down his cheek, he kisses me hard, placing both of his hands on the side of my face, i can taste the saltiness of his tears and mine, we are together the ocean itself, so strong, so powerful, so deep, deep in this love we both felt so buried inside but also always at the tip of our tongues, now we kiss between those words.
“I love you so too..all this time i did too” he whispers close to my lips, his forehead touching mine, i feel his hot breath tingling on my lower lip, is like a dream to have him this close, it’s like a dream to know that he also loves me.
“I want to go with you Ed, please.” i softly wipe away his tears with my thumb, i look into his watery brown eyes, when i say the word “please” i look at Aslan who’s standing on my left side, he nods, approving my decision and letting me go, like a father letting go of the bike of her daughter so she could learn to ride for herself.
The Pevensie siblings smile, Lucy jumps of excitement while holding Peter’s hand, he looks proud, Susan smiles at me as she is happy to keep her best friend near, and Edmund grabs my hand gently as i make my way to Aslan so i can hug him tight, as maybe this is the last time i set foot on Narnia even though i really hope it’s not.
After everybody cheers and cries they clap and smile for all of us who are going to England. With my hand still interviewed I cross the portal, we are in a train station and wearing school uniforms, we get on the train and we are happier than ever.
A whole new beginning is in my path, and I can sense it is filled with love.
Thank you for reading!
#fluff#fanfiction#edmund pevensie#edmund pevensie x reader#the chronicles of narnia#the chronicles of narnia fanfiction#edmund pevensie fanfiction#edmund pevensie fluff#x reader
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A portrait of us



Summary: In the quiet sanctuary of his workroom Benedict finds that you are perfectly bathed in the silver light of the moon and has to paint you straight away. (Gender neutral)
Requested
Masterlist
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The Bridgerton estate hummed with quiet activity as the evening stretched on, but Benedict Bridgerton’s workroom remained his sanctuary. Away from the drawing rooms, the lingering eyes of his siblings, and the buzz of idle chatter, it was here that he felt most himself. Among the scattered sketches, unfinished canvases, and vials of pigment. He waited there now, pacing lightly in front of his easel, hands dusted with charcoal smudges. His heart beat just a touch faster than usual, as it always did when he thought of you. His intended. The word still felt like a dream to him. And then there was the soft knock on the door.
“Benedict?” He crossed the room in two long strides, pulling the door open to reveal you, your cheeks flushed from the cool night air. He stepped aside to let you in, his lips curling into that lopsided grin you knew so well. “You found it” he teased. “You were vague with your directions” you replied, slipping into the room and looking around. “But I’ve learned that where there is a faint scent of paint, there you are”. Benedict laughed, closing the door behind you. “I prefer to think of it as ‘artistic mystique’”. “Ah, of course. My apologies”.
You wandered further into the room, taking in the chaos of his workspace, the easels leaning against the walls, the half-finished sculptures, the sketches that littered the desk. Your fingers brushed along the edge of one particularly intricate drawing, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “It’s… chaotic” you said, turning to him. “It’s home” he replied, standing behind you now, his voice warm with affection. You turned to face him, the two of you caught in a moment of quiet intimacy.
He reached out, taking your hand in his, pulling you toward the oversized window that overlooked the garden. “I wanted to show you this” he said softly, gesturing to the view outside. The moonlight spilled across the gardens, painting everything in silver and shadow. You leaned against the windowsill, your gaze far away as you took in the sight. Benedict leaned against the wall beside you, watching as your eyes darted from the treetops to the flowers below. “It’s beautiful” you murmured.“So are you” he replied without thinking. You turned to look at him, a surprised laugh bubbling from your lips. “You’re incorrigible”. “And yet you’re here”. Shaking your head, you turned back to the window, your profile now illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Benedict’s gaze lingered on you, the way the light played against your features, how your hair seemed to shimmer. His artist’s eye took in every detail, and suddenly, he couldn’t resist. “Don’t move” he said abruptly, already moving to grab a blank canvas and his paints. You turned slightly, confused. “What?”. “Just stay like that” he insisted, his voice filled with an urgency you didn’t quite understand. “Look out the window, just as you were. Please”.
Though bemused, you obliged, turning back toward the garden. You heard the rustle of brushes, the clink of paint jars, and the occasional muttered curse as Benedict worked behind you. “Are you painting me?” you asked after a moment. “Don’t talk, or I’ll lose the shape of your mouth” he replied, distracted. You laughed softly but stayed quiet, your gaze fixed on the garden. Time seemed to stretch and fold, the stillness of the room broken only by the sound of Benedict’s brush against the canvas. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, stepping back from the easel. “Finished?” you asked, turning to face him. “Not quite” he said, his voice softer now. “But I’ve captured enough”.
You moved to his side, peering at the canvas. There you were, immortalized in paint, the moonlight cascading over your form, your expression both wistful and serene. It was breathtaking, but it wasn’t the strokes of the brush that stole your breath, it was the way he looked at you. “Benedict…” He set the brush down, turning to face you fully. “I could paint you a thousand times” he said quietly, “and it would never be enough to capture how I see you”. For a moment, the world seemed to still as the two of you stood there, the painting between you. Then you stepped closer, reaching for his hand. “Perhaps you don’t need to paint me a thousand times”you whispered. “You can just… look”. He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, his hand tightening around yours. “Then I shall look” he murmured, his voice filled with promise. “And I shall never stop”.
#x reader#fandom#x y/n#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton#Benedict Bridgerton x you#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#x you fluff#x you#fluff#midnightwritingsessions
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Azel Radwan: Chapter 10 Premium Story
Chapter 10
Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!
♡———♡
Although it retains its current form due to renovations of ancient ruins, the temple, with its high historical value, appears to have many rooms at first glance.
However, upon checking each one, it seems they have completely decayed over the long course of history, reduced to piles of rubble.
The places where people can physically stand are limited, and the places where one can sleep and eat are even more limited.
-
(This is the Living God's room...)
The spacious room located on the top floor of the temple was a fantastical space, as if I had wandered into a dream world.
I was overwhelmed by the huge moon visible from the window, but even more so, I was stunned by the murals that completely covered the ceiling.
Emma: This is...
Azel: It's not my taste. It was here from the beginning.
Depicted was a sky full of stars, without a moon.
The stars twinkling on the ceiling should be fake, yet each one shone as if it were real.
Emma: ...Beautiful.
Azel: It's a special pigment made from an ore that can't even be mined anymore.
Azel: It's close to a miracle that it's remained in this condition without any repairs.
As he spoke, he held out his hand to me.
Emma: ...What's this hand for?
Azel: Explanation fee.
Emma: That's fraud.
Azel: You never learn, do you?
(I can't even casually ask him anything!)
Since I didn't have any money on hand, I tried shaking his greedy hand.
Azel: ...Huh?
Emma: It's offset by the handshake fee.
Azel: I'd rather be the one getting the handshake fee.
Emma: My handshake is even more expensive than that. Didn't you know?
Azel: I didn't know. I don't think it's worth anything at all.
(...He talks too much...)
I quickly let go of his hand, and Prince Azel withdrew his as well.
As expected, the explanation fee seemed to be a God's joke.
Looking around again, I saw that besides the mystical murals, the room contained a large bed, a desk and chair for one person, and scattered books piled everywhere.
The book that had fallen at my feet was a specialized book on architecture.
(This one's about agriculture... that one's economics, the one piled on the chair is astronomy, and there's even a book on shipbuilding.)
It wasn't specific to any one field; there were traces of him having read extensively in various areas.
(This book in particular seems to be well-read.)
(Let's see... "Read this and you too can be a splendid swindler ~Beginner's Edition~?")
(...I'll pretend I didn't see that.)
Azel: So, what do you intend to do after following me to my room?
Emma: Of course, I'm looking for a place to sleep.
Azel: .............
Emma: I won't take the bed.
Azel: That goes without saying.
Emma: I thought about sleeping in the kitchen...
Azel: Are you serious?
Emma: It might be surprisingly comfortable.
Azel: It might be, if you don't mind me stepping on you when I go to get water at night.
Emma: No way. ...Which means, it seems I have no choice but to borrow a corner of this room.
(I thought it would be awkward to stay in a man's room... but there's no other way.)
A sense of guilt welled up in me, but it was too late to back down now.
Emma: Would it be alright if I set up camp in the corner by this bookshelf?
Azel: It wouldn't be, but you're going to occupy it anyway, aren't you?
Emma: Yes.
Azel: Then please pay the rent.
Emma: I'm already drowning in debt, I have nothing left to fear. Charge me whatever you like.
Azel: ...You've really reached the end of the line, haven't you?
Despite his words, Prince Azel pulled a blanket out of the closet and tossed it to me.
Emma: Thank you very much.
Azel: Of course—
Emma: You can add the rental fee to the invoice.
(If I stay here, I'll be in debt hell every day.)
(This has been bothering me for a while...)
Emma: Are you really in need for money, Living God?
(He shouldn't be in a position to be troubled by money, right?)
(In fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the national treasury is Prince Azel's wallet...)
Azel: I don't take money because I'm in need for it.
Azel: I take money to live.
Emma: Isn't that...the same thing?
Azel: It's completely different. But I have no intention of explaining it in detail.
Prince Azel picked up a nearby book and lay down on the bed.
His casual demeanor suggested that this was a part of his daily routine.
(In the end, it seems Prince Azel has decided to ignore me.)
(In that case, I'll blend into the background too.)
(I have no choice but to huddle in the corner so as not to disturb Prince Azel's privacy as much as possible, and wait for morning to come.)
(...........)
(...I have nothing to do, so maybe I'll read a book.)
-
*This part will be from Azel's POV*
Around the time the moon, which had been perched by the window, reached its zenith in the sky—regular, quiet snores echoed through the room.
The God looked down at the "self-proclaimed priestess" who was sleeping against the bookshelf, wrapped in a blanket.
Azel: Are you seriously going to sleep there?
There was no reply to his question.
Her body swayed back and forth, as if she were on a boat rocking on the waves.
Eventually, his worry became reality, and her body tilted toward the cold floor.
He instinctively caught her with his arm and brought her back up.
Azel: ...I don't understand.
Azel: What's the normal thing to do? Isn't it normal for two people to share one bed in the first place?
Azel: But considering rationality, it's clearly the normal thing to do. There's no need to sleep on the floor.
Azel: I thought you'd shamelessly occupy the bed no matter what I said.
Azel: ...Well, it doesn't matter to me whether the sucker sleeps on the floor or wherever.
As the God stood up again, her body started to sway once more.
Azel: It doesn't matter...
She swayed back and forth, greatly, and—
Azel: ...Matter...
He supported her body again as she was about to have a second collision with the floor.
Azel: .........What the hell...damn it.
Finally losing his patience with her swaying body every time he let go, he picked her up.
He gently laid her down on the sheets with unpracticed hands, and then the body that should have been asleep suddenly sat up.
Azel: Whoa!? You're awake—
Azel: ...Are you...?
She grabbed the God's hand as if to stop him from doing something, but her eyes were still tightly closed.
Emma: ...The bread...you can't eat it yet...
Emma: Undercooked...it's not tasty...
Azel: ...Huh?
Emma: ...I won't...let go...
Emma: No...stealing...absolutely not...
Emma: .............
Thud—her body fell back onto the sheets.
Then, as if nothing had happened, snores could be heard.
Azel: ...That's quite different from your "usual dream."
He glanced at his grasped hand and started to raise it to shake her off.
However, the self-proclaimed priestess, who was trying to stop a bread thief, was sleeping soundly—
After a moment of hesitation, his hand was quietly lowered.
Azel: How can you sleep so peacefully in this situation?
Azel: ...And with such a stupid look on your face.
Emma: Hehe...
Azel: ..............
Azel: You...you're so different in many ways.
Sigh... He let out a deep, heavy sigh and lay down next to her on the bed.
The bed, which was spacious for one person, felt cramped with two people side by side.
Emma: Hmm... So, no...
Perhaps the crime in her dream had escalated, as she was no longer satisfied with just grabbing his hand and clung to his arm.
The God stiffened and covered his face with his other, unrestrained hand.
Azel: ...Keeping you by my side might have been a bad move.
-
*Back to Emma's POV*
The first morning I woke up in the God's dwelling—it was by no means a pleasant awakening.
Emma: .............
Azel: ..............
(...Why did this happen?)
I remember falling asleep last night, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against the bookshelf.
But when I woke up, I was in bed...or to be more precise, clinging to Prince Azel's arm.
(………… Could this be...a nightmare?)
Azel: Good morning.
Emma: Good..... morning...
Prince Azel, who was being used as a hug pillow, had an eerily gentle expression.
The chills running down my spine were definitely not my imagination.
Azel: Do you have anything to say to me?
Emma: Well...
Emma: ...Even when you've just woken up, your hair is neatly tied, isn't it...or something like that...
Emma: Ow, ow, ow!
He pinched my cheek, and I realized that this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.
It seemed that the gentle smile was an illusion, and in the harsh reality that had been exposed, a grumpy God awaited me.
Azel: You disrespectful creature.
Emma: I'm sorry, I don't remember anything...!
Emma: Why am I in bed?
Azel: I don't know. You must have climbed into bed and clung to me on your own.
Emma: No way...
Azel: You're quite the sleeper.
(...Aside from the clinging, it's hard to believe that I went to bed while I was asleep...)
Azel: You have some nerve doubting my words.
Emma: I didn't say anything!
Azel: Your face said it all. And it's all your fault.
(That's true...)
(Either way, I caused him trouble.)
I couldn't help but hold my head in my hands, as climbing into bed while asleep was certainly unexpected.
Azel: ...If you wanted to sleep in the bed that much, why didn't you just say so from the—
Emma: I've decided. I'll sleep in the kitchen from today.
Azel: Why would you say that!? That's not the point!
Emma: Eh?
Azel: ...Cough...
(Why did he suddenly shout...?)
Azel: Tch...
(And why did he click his tongue!?)
Perhaps I had upset him, as Prince Azel turned away.
Azel: ...Are you stupid? You came to bed because you couldn't sleep on the floor, right?
Emma: It seems so, therefore I will retrain myself.
Azel: Nothing is as useless as willpower alone.
Emma: But there's no other way.
Azel: .............
(Wow...his face says "dissatisfied.")
(I don't think my suggestion is a bad thing for Prince Azel.)
Azel: ...Fine. I'll make breakfast.
Emma: Oh, I don't have to make it?
Azel: That's right. This is so troublesome, damn it.
(Hmm...something's strange.)
(His attitude changed after I said I'd sleep in the kitchen.)
Carefully retracing each of our conversations so far, I let out an "Ah!" without thinking.
(I can't believe it, but...)
Emma: ...Could it be that you carried me to bed, Living God?
Azel: ...No.
Emma: And the clinging was actually—
Azel: That part is true.
Emma: "That part?"
Azel: ..............
The God turned his back to me, his ears slightly red.
(...I think I might be starting to understand Prince Azel.)
Perhaps because I had learned a fact I hadn't expected at all, my heart started to race.
I hurriedly tightened my lips, which were about to break into a grin.
Emma: Thank you very much.
Azel: .................
Emma: I'll make you a delicious breakfast as an apology!
Azel: ..............................
(Oh no, he's completely sulking.)
(...He's a mean God who forces debt on me, but I still can't hate him.)
Azel: ...Don't get the wrong idea. It's to collect the transportation fee and bedding usage fee.
Emma: I'll let you have that.
(This feeling...it's a first.)
With my heart feeling light and fluffy, I got ready and left the room with my change of clothes in hand.
But suddenly, I had an idea and went back to the room.
Emma: ...In addition to increasing my debt, I have a request.
.
.
.
Chapter 11
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#ikepri azel#ikepri translations#ikemen prince translations#azel#azel radwan#azel radwan main route#ikemen prince azel radwan#ikepri jp#cybird otome
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💙 — 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 !
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Valentine’s spent with Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak !
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @aristocolourway @deadgirlrin @missisaz @faintfill @honeycinnamon @by-bananant @lauren1523 @xobridgertonblues @hungrynessforfics @dananannanana @innercreationflower @angie-1306 @cozybubble
𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 : @cafekitsune !!!
a/n : It is love day, everyone !!! To those Avatar lovers still out there who adore these characters — these are for you ! Please enjoy, and happy Valentines Day!<33
Valentines Day with Ao’nung, Tsireya, and Rotxo !
— Neteyam !

Anchored. Unrelenting. Sizzling. Neteyam’s mind was anchored, his heartbeat unrelenting, and his body sizzling over your dampened frame. The propinquity he shared with you allayed him, the water’s ambience soothed him. Shallow were Awa’Atlu’s pristine oceans for each gentle wave covered you both lying within it, complying to the silhouette of his body lithe and tendered into yours.
A rarity of a sight it was to witness him, Neteyam the strong and mighty warrior, in a state of relaxation, for he habitually carried a solemn countenance, resolute in his duties. As not only the eldest son but older brother, the golden child, he adhered dutifully to his responsibilities. And you, trainee under your mother, Tsahik, in hopes to become your Clan’s future Tsahik were in freedom from its worries for the time being, in freedom of being the eldest child and daughter, something that had drawn one another together. The profound joy derived from sharing tranquility with someone who served as the paramount source of it marked an unparalleled and cherished experience, and you liberated him all those titles as he liberated you, giving each other the simplest and most valuable one yet: your Neteyam, his Y/N.
Tucked beneath the outline of your jaw was his head, the wet entwines of his hair grazing your turquoise flesh with every movement of his burrowing deeper into your neck. The shore’s aroma was strong from the current breeze laced with the currents, the aromas you’ve inhaled, embraced and adored your entire life; but Neteyam’s potent fragrance was the single one that inebriated you in this moment. Pandora’s multicolored fluorescence illuminated the ocean’s vibrant blues, clashing breathtakingly with both your distinct tones under the night sky. This felt right, this felt nice and tranquil. Something you knew he needed far more than you ever did.
You felt the brims of his lashes fluttering, hearing him breathe in the pure essence that is solely yours, and this dragged a shuddering sigh from your lungs. You raised the three of your fingers and let them trace down his spine, tips soon straying from its path to outline his endearing stripes, to memorize the star-like specks shimmering upon his rich blue contours. The lingers of your ascend elicited a shiver from the young warrior, an elicit you hoped for.
“That feels nice…may you do it again?” You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling up your throat at his request, so sweet, so polite in asking even when eager for your touch, so Neteyam. Not a second of the day goes by without the lightest of contacts with you, always savoring each and every touch you gave his being and you could never ever deny him the privilege, so of course you more than willingly agreed. There it was, that sound of acceptance, that feel of content that you chased when with him, it is what you savor; to gratify him, to fortify him.
“I have made a gift for you, ma ‘Teyam,” Your soft utterance brought his head to lift from its haven within your warmth while his lips twitched. “You did not need to do that, my love. I can conform with the gift of your presence. That is all I need and want.” His fingers rose to softly thread through your dark tresses, chuckling at the pretty purse your lips now formed despite the flush pigmenting your cheeks.
“Rutxe, Neteyam ( please ). I did it for you out of my love. Please allow me to show you, and please accept it because it took some time to make it.” He knew denying you was a task he had never done, and Neteyam knew he could never even comply with it when it came to you. Those alluring swirls of blue orbs you carried relished him to let out a deep sigh but reluctantly agreed, for he did not want your efforts to go to waste, much less when it was made from the affections you held for him.
You lightly tapped his shoulder and he pushed himself away from you, much to his dismay, though he was genuinely intrigued as to what you have made for him. Your fingers reached behind your neck, unclasping a necklace above one he had given you with, though he hadn’t been aware of though the way it was woven had been familiar, and his golden hues brimmed confusion at how there was another similar with its design like the one now in your palm, displayed for him to catch the way the one you held carried a vibrantly blue stone in the middle, assisted with 2 tiny stones accompanying each side.
“It is a necklace.”
You nodded happily, bringing his wrist out of the water and had him splay his fingers out to place the jewelry there. Your translucent gaze caught his own and smiled at how curiosity colored his beautiful features. “Would you like me to put it on, pretty boy?” His eyes resisted from rolling at the nickname given, but he would admit it had grown quite noticeable on him; his ears batted bashfully from the sound, his tail swaying in anticipation, creating cute splashes against the ocean that made you giggle beneath his playful glare. “Yes, please.”
He settled himself in front of you as you kneeled, carefully moving the longer length of his single braid before it was assisted by the myriad of his much thinner ones. You smiled to yourself at the way he exhaled deeply from your feathering touches, and you knew that he was waiting patiently for you to elaborate the reason for your gift. “I know how much you miss your home, so with the help of your sister and mother, I made this out of the material you used back in the Forest.”
He turned back with a softness in his eyes, and he caught onto the similar lace accentuating your neck had, the one he’d given you; the middle being an oval-shaped, light blue stone while assisted by soft colored stones. He stayed quiet, knowing there was more you wished to say, but his heart couldn't help but feel concerned at the way your ears so very slightly flattened alongside your head. “I know my father said you are Metkayina now…but I am sure that if Eywa gave you the chance, that when conflict is over, you’d like to go back with your People–”
“If that ever were to happen, I would not leave you, if that is what you are thinking. I will come back to you, Y/N.” He was in haste to reassure those doubts, those fears, not wanting to think or continue a life without you by his side, without you as his future mate. Neteyam did not know anymore what path has been set for his family or himself, but he much rather it be one with you in it and him in yours. To which is why he paused for a moment before he reached to take his necklace off. His fingers then slithered between the long cascades of your locks and to the nape of your neck without tearing his eyes from yours, and unclasped your own necklace.
“Neteyam, what–” Unaware you were to the exchange he’d done, the necklace made for him now adorning your neck while yours adorned his. Your eyes shyly peered up, chest blossoming a rareness of warmth as he gave you a precious smile and interlocked his fingers within yours. “We now wear each other’s, so we carry a part of the other everywhere. No matter how far away we are from each other, no matter the time, no matter the People, I am and will forever be yours, Y/N.”
Gleaming and utterly gorgeous was your smile, and he took in the purity of your beauty, of your love. “And I, too, am and will always be yours, Neteyam.” He kissed you, sweetly and delicately yet enough to have your mind and heart soaring higher than you ever thought possible. “Wherever, whenever.”
He gave you one more of his precious smiles before settling back down into your neck, soft kisses brushing and accompanied by the water’s light current across your skin.
— Kiri !

There was noise, some semblance of it at least, you thought. Yet Pandora’s outside world was reduced with every word spewing from Kiri’s lips. You decided then and there that no other melody could vanquish the one she created, not even your songcord – of course, you’d never say that aloud to anyone besides her.
Kiri, the Na’vi girl with humanistic features that everyone in Awa’atlu thought to be odd, even you. Yet not the bad kind, never the bad when it came to the Sully girl. Beyond compare and contrast was her beauty, alluring was her smile. It was easy to get lost in it, so effortlessly to overawe its brilliance.
Kiri’s feet very lightly whirled within the translucency of the waters, the glittering light of Pandora’s tiny fishes circling her motions. You scrutinized her every expression though, smiling at the way her eyes brimmed with thrill down at the little creatures while your focus remained solely on your Kiri.
Something then fell from her lips – a subtle tug down following afterwards when she turned to look at you. Her once lax-hold on your hand was quick to direct and persistent, and this time your gaze fell to your twined fingers and smiled even more at the sight. But to reassure her, your thumb grazed over the back of her palm lovingly and gave a small nod. Kiri protested your dissociation for she was not indulgent with it in this second, not amused of your dazing irises. If only she could know one did not – couldn’t or shouldn’t ever be allowed to dissociate when near her presence. If anything, the only possibility for you was to associate with her. Kiri, despite the silent and rather be reserved with her thoughts and emotions, was so worth listening to, so worth being able to associate with the way her eyes twinkled brighter than the fluorescence Pandora had to offer, dimming every light encasing you as you sat at the edge with your feet dangled in the water, life wavering you as the night’s stars shimmered.
“I don’t think my family believes that I can feel her, Y/N.” She rolled her eyes with a soft scoff, the act that anyone else would believe as disrespectful and angry but you knew her; you knew this facade, how much this tethered her heart with hurt and sadness. And you also knew – witnessed the strong connection Kiri had with Eywa, and even if you hadn’t you believed in her word with no doubts, no hesitations. Of course, she was reluctant in how you quickly believed her but you reassured the Omaticayan girl. You gave her the closest thing there was to feeling like she did belong, like she did have something – someone to emotionally open up to and depend on. She then smiled softly, “But as long as someone believes me, that someone being you, I think I can settle with tha–”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
The sudden blurt of your declaration halted her words. The rareness of a blush pigmenting beneath those glittering star specks across her cheeks. You didn’t see it because her face dipped down as quickly as it came, yet you didn’t need to. You knew Kiri, purely and confidently. “I made you something, by the way.”
Her head lifted at your words and her nose scrunched. “Why, out of all days, today?”
“Your brother had told me something about … a festivity Sky People have. One your father said they had back on their planet.” You paused, eyes averting. “He asked me for help in making something for Tsireya and while I did…I was convinced to make you something.”
Her eyes squinted as if trying to recall this holiday before realization settled in and a groan erupted from her throat. “That festivity is so … so cheesy, I swear. Why would you make me something?”
You shrugged, a bit confused as to why she thought this, “The way he spoke about it intrigued me… you do not want the gift then?”
Her eyes widened and mouth pursed. “But I didn’t get you a gift.”
“Having you is more than a gift.”
She groaned once more, but it was a mirthful sound. “You need to stop hanging out with Lo’ak. And my dad maybe. But okay, fine…let me see it.”
You grinned widely and brought your legs out of the water to retrieve the gift and returned with it hidden behind your back as you settled down, “Give me your feet.”
“Perv. Why out of all things my feet?”
“Kiri, please just listen! – What is a perv?” You shook your head before bringing one hand to her knee. “Never mind – Come on… it is nothing bad.” Her brow was hitched up high, letting a few beats go by until she sighed and gave in, propping both her dampened feet over your thigh. “Now what?”
You goofily grinned at the glare she gave you when you squeezed her foot. “Close your eyes.”
She narrowed her eyes even more , trying to inspect and unravel what you were up to. “If you tickle my feet, I will personally end you.”
“Everyday in your presence, you end me by taking my breath away.” That brought out a groan and laugh, her eyes crinkling beautifully. “You’re so corny, I swear. But fine, let’s get it over with.”
You chuckled but continued, fingers very lightly curling around her ankle and wrapped the piece you had made for her, occasionally letting the tips of your fingers stray the heel of her foot. “Stop! Y/N, that tickles, stop it or I will open my eyes!” She’d huff at the whispered giggles you would let out, trying to keep the deep furrow between her brows and yet with every joyous sound you made, she could no longer contain the warm smile curling her mouth. You adjusted the piece on the other ankle then, smiling proudly at your work. “Open them.”
Kiri’s lashes fluttered as she complied and very quietly gasped. Her feet had been embroidered with incredibly crafted barefooted sandals, the color scheme assisting browns, yellows, and green tiny fragments of trinkets, and she recognized the patterns to be similar to the necklace around her neck, the one that once belonged to her mother.
Her head snapped to you. “W-what, how did you—”
You smirked, “It helps hanging out with your brother and dad.”
Golden irises broadened in awe as she retracted her feet from your lap, her leg bending as her fingers brushed over the fine jewelry. “How did you even make this?”
“It took time…and a few minor injuries with the beads, but nothing my mother couldn’t fix,” She looked down at your hands, tiny and faint cuts scattering your digits and palms and she frowned. “You skxawng,” she lightly hit the back of your head but reached for your hands, bringing them close to her face and placed a soft kiss over each scratch. “You beautiful, considerate, lovable skxawng.”
“Don’t know if I should feel insulted or flattered,” you chuckled out. She giggled, bringing one of your palms to her cheek and the pads of your fingers stroked her bangs, giving her that heartwarming look that always mollified her insides. “Thank you, Y/N…but I still didn’t get you anything.”
You waved her off, “Do not worry about it… though I do have another surprise.”
“Again, I didn’t get you anything!”
“You didn’t need to! Look –” You outstretched your leg over her lap revealing your ankle being bejeweled with a similar patterned anklet. “I'm matching with you now!” She grinned widely and feathered her touch over it before wrapping her hands around your leg and tugged you closer. “I love it. I love you, in fact.” she didn’t give you time to respond because her complete enamour with you led her to kiss you soft, firm, lovingly.
— Lo’ak !

“My dad had told me of a celebration the Sky People once had on their planet — a celebration that included gift giving.” Gift giving that included the special gift in a pocket tied to Lo’ak’s loincloth, unaware to you.
“Really?” You smiled, a wonder and intrigue morphing your features. “That seems like something we do here when courting your future mate! Is there a name for this celebration?”
“Valentines Day. That is its name…but it’s not only about the gift giving, if not the motive behind it.” The swaying motions your interlocked hands created slowed down as the tips of his fingers pressed deeper into your skin. “Oh? And what is that, ma Lo’ak?”
He smiled briefly at the nickname given, a reflection of what his mother called his dad, and the love they shared swelled his heart of the love he shared with you. “To celebrate any sort of connection with your loved ones. Preferably friendship, admiration…love.”
“Lo’ak, what is this?” The melodic sound of your giggles normally mesmerized him, eased his nerves with the soft joyous sound. Today, under the setting eclipse should be no different, for this is how you spend your evenings together; hands clasped together, swinging through the air while the both of you strided through Awa’atlu’s sands, the winds astoundingly tousling through the rich ringlets of your hair, and you’d both soothe each other’s struggles of the days with sweet words and gentle touches.
But today, his nerves could not be tamed by even you, his sweet girl, as he stopped his steps indicating you to do the same, and stood in front of you with a shell-made case in his tight grasp, his saffron colored eyes looked anywhere but those cerulean ones he adored endlessly. The points of his ears flitted from his resistance of emotions while his tail lashed, and your smile faltered with the final sign that indicated his nervousness; the way he practically chewed off the corner of his lip, incisors puncturing the flesh.
“Lo’ak, what is wrong — are you okay? Is something the matter?” The soft tone and light touch of your hand on his clenching one brought his gaze up, and his brows knitted in awe at the delicacy of your features, of the ocean pools you carried. He swallowed hard, briefly smiling with a nod.
“D-do you know what a ring is?”
A subtle quirk resided between your eyes but nodded. “I do not wear them…but I do know what they are. A type of jewelry worn on the hand, yes?”
He nodded, thumbs tapping over the shell’s thin dents. “What does it mean to you? I-if I gave you one? For this celebration of love that Sky People have?”
Your lips parted and the corners threatened to lift into a smile, but kept quiet as you observed his expression. “I would be more than happy… especially if it came from you—”
“But do you know the purpose of a ring? What would it mean to you?” He felt the pulsing of his heart, practically heard it and wouldn’t be surprised if you too could, with the way its wild and profound beating hammered against his chest with each pump of blood in and out of the organ.
You thought for a moment, trying to connect a response that would somehow calm him. The three of your fingers fiddled over the five of his, smiling at the way his deeper blue tones contrasted with your aquamarine ones, coming together as one. “It will be an act of affection on your part if you did. And I would cherish it very much. Though I do not know the…actual significance of a ring.”
His father had told him of the ways humans bonded to each other for eternity without the intimacy of tsaheylu, of how all the things tied to love were forged into a single promise, a single piece of jewelry such as a ring.
“Why did you never get mom a ring then?” He recalled Tuk questioning, and he would only chuckle while scratching the back of his neck. “Your mom isn’t fond of human things and the Na’vi’s got their own thing for marital acts, baby… besides you need five fingers for this to work.”
But that did not matter to him, not in this case, because when he heard and unraveled the details behind a ring, he found it to be beautiful and significant. You had been one of the greatest things that have ever occurred to him since the Sky People returned. Since he had to flee from the only home he’s ever known. Since the death of his big brother. And in the months that he has known you, in the months living in uncertainty and fear only for it to be washed away by those ocean eyes of yours, he found a firm certainty in something after a long time; about the love he felt for you, about you deserving something that beautiful, that significant. “Why do you ask?”
Because within this shell, the shell you and I happened to catch from the bottom of the ocean and you praised me for it, is a ring that isn’t exactly for marriage but as a promise to you of my undying love and promising future I will make sure to have with you. Because I am certain that I do not ever want to lose you, because you have seen me at my worst when he died. I cannot risk going on without you.
Another bob motioned up his throat before his shaking fingers opened the case in his palm, catching onto the soft gasp emitted from your lips.
“Dad told me the meaning, and I learned that it signifies an eternity of love; no beginning, no end. That the hole in the middle, it’s a gateway that leads to things and events known and unknown.” His accent was increasing its thickness as he spoke, internally cursing and hoped that you could still understand him. “The marital ring means forever, and I know that I want forever with you,”
It took you a moment to recognize the chiseled figure over the twig-like band — a single pearl in the middle, twinkling and impressively tiny trinkets embedded around the band. You knew it must’ve taken the Omaticayan boy quite some time to create this. Though you then caught a glimpse of a new necklace around his neck, one that assisted a pearl similar to the one upon the ring .
“But in the meantime, I want to give you what they call a promise ring, a-and when the time comes, I can….if you’ll take me, be your mate. Forever.”
Tears glistened the vibrancy of your irises, threatening to fall down your cheeks, clogging the words within your throat. All you could do was create a wobbly smile as he took ahold of your hand and slipped the ring around your middle finger, sliding perfectly into place.
“And as soon as everything gets cleared out, as soon as we hit that age, I won’t hesitate in making this the real thing, h-how does that sound to you?”
The sudden wrap of your arms around his shoulders and the soft pecks meeting his face spoke the answer, and he chuckled against your lips. “Happy Valentine's Day, baby.”
#avatar the way of water#avatar james cameron#neteyam x reader#neteyam avatar#neteyam sully#neteyam#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#lo’ak x reader#lo’ak sully#lo’ak avatar#lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan#Neteyam x reader fluff#Neteyam x reader drabble#Neteyam drabble#Lo’ak x reader fluff#Lo’ak drabble#Kiri x reader#kiri avatar#kiri te suli kìreysì'ite#Kiri x reader fluff#Kiri drabble
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Ask: Soft Yandere Hyrule?
Hyrule is under appreciated. Let's give him some lovin'!
����𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
He sat on the carpet, watching you as you painted on a piece of parchment. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there, watching you, but he didn't care. He could die in the same position that he was sitting in right now and he'd be happy. Absolutely euphoric.
"Rulie, could you pass me the green?"
"Of course, Flower."
You blush at the name, regardless of the hundreds of times he called you that.
He hands you the small tube, your fingertips on his skin erupting him in flames. Even the smallest touches or bits of attention on him sent him to heaven. You were every sense of the word.
You returned painting on the parchment, stray locks of hair falling from your up-do. His hand twitched, wanting to tuck the hair behind your ear, but he would distract you from your masterpiece, so he stayed put.
The others were in the room, no doubt watching you paint as well how dare they even exist in the same universal plane as you, but you paid them no mind, hyperfocused on painting.
You stopped your movements, a small frown on your face. What's wrong? Do you need something? Are you tired? Is he distracting you? Are the others bothering you? Should he-
"Rulie, can I paint on your skin? This paint is safe to use on skin, it's made from plant pigments."
He didn't care if the paint was made from the blood of Hylia, he'd let you paint anything on him.
"Of course, you don't have to ask. Where do you want to paint?"
"Your arm?"
Without a word, he pulls up his sleeve, exposing his forearm to you. He watches as you dip the paintbrush into a deep teal, brushing off the excess droplets back into the paint jar.
How did even the most minuscule actions that you did seem so... angelic? So perfectly executed?
"Stay still, Rulie. I want this to look perfect."
It already does.
You painted in small strokes, tickling the small hairs on his arm. From his angle, he couldn't tell what you were trying to create, but he knew you'd shape it into something no less than flawless. You always did, regardless of how critical you were of yourself and your abilities.
His eyes never left your form, taking in your effortless beauty, even if you were still in your sleepwear.
He practically melted at the scent of you, light notes of violets and vanilla, a scent that he always associated with you.
"And.... done! What do you think, Rulie?"
He looks down at his arm, jaw dropping in awe at your piece.
It was a landscape of his Hyrule, the edge of the work littered with small violets.
Your favorite flower and his home, created on his own skin.
"Thank you, I... love it. I love you"
You give him a smile that sends him spiraling, hands clapping together.
"I'm so glad! You're my masterpiece now, Hyrule."
Your words echoed in his mind.
You're my masterpiece.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
#yandere linked universe#yandere linked universe x reader#lu hyrule#lu hyrule x reader#yandere lu hyrule x reader
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Hiya!! Can I please get some Sekido smut please? If you can, can it be a bit short (i know some of your fics are long) with an afab reader!
PRETTY PLEASE. I will get on my knees. 😍

˚₊‧꒰ wanting desire.☆꒱‧₊˚.!
✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍓 ୧・author note :: way to expose me anon,, i tried to keep it short, still ended up being long so you do have a point ;-;
✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍷 ୧・pairing :: sekido x afab reader — {you/your pronouns}
✧༉‧₊˚୨ 💌 ୧・summary + word count :: after going so long without feeling eachother's touch, your beloved demon lost control and took you right then and there for a pleasurable night. + [1327] words. smut.
✧༉‧₊˚୨ ⚡ ୧・trigger warnings :: smut. degradation. sex in the wilderness. rough intercourse. edging. marking. biting. hickeys. grammatical errors || children please leave, 18+ content. proofread.
“A-ahh~! Sekido! Be gentler, please darling!” That’s all that was heard, the high pitch wail that stretched far throughout the quiet, serene atmosphere. A cry of pure pleasure that was, one that captivated such content and dispersed such need, desire, such utter thirst for the pleasure to have more. Your words were nothing but veritable lies.
Falsity. It was evident in the lewd expression that only remained permanently on your face, never leaving for even the smallest fraction of a second for the sheer lust you felt was too much to simply even emit from under those filthy lips of yours. Your face only crinkled as a wide grin plastered itself along your face; the feeling only grew increasingly and at a rapid rate.
You weren’t even sure if you were able to properly function at all at this rate. Your words were almost utter mush and gibberish rolled up together to form a stuttered mess filled with moans of passion and heavy, sharp breaths.
By the grace of God, you managed to utter a few words here or there but nothing one could truly make out at this rate. You didn’t like this feeling, it was all too much pleasure to be indulged in! But you can’t even deny it even if your entire existence honestly depended on it, it felt amazing.
Was this like a guilty pleasure to you at this point? Surely it had to be.
You could only wonder what lead you to this predicament. Was it your needs that became too much to bare? Was it the fact you haven’t felt in touch in which was absolute eons now? Truthfully, it just happened. But how could you complain about this sensation, it felt almost surreal yet so nostalgic again, your hot-tempered lover finally making the time to have one’s pleasure with his beloved human was surely a dream come true, to be frank.
Well, he had pent-up rage for how long now? I would assume those numbers wouldn’t matter nor did it need to, all that mattered was what was happening at present.
Sexual tension and so much anger that has been built up? Could you dream of anything better? His touch was so rough, like needles and so coarse yet you felt a sense of ease. Was it the endless amount of delight being washed over you tenfold by the moment?
So many questions, so few answers; but why would these questions need answers? You needed him and he needed you more than you could ever imagine. That's all the answers you needed.
“Fuck yeah, you damn whore- Take all my cock the fucking little slut you are for me,” the demon of anger deeply bellowed under his breath, his voice laced with lascivious and of course an animalistic nature as it snapped you back to reality instantly; your little mind bubble popped.
Your vision was a complete mess as everything became hazy and blurred as warm tears of pleasure welled up in your eyes like a little waterfall getting ready to pour down warm, salty tears at any moment.
The blush that deeply resembled your lover’s eyes tinted your cheeks with the rosy pigment rather nicely, complimenting your skin tone; the warmth of it being almost sickening as it could barely be controlled.
You felt the soft yet spikey grass underneath your body jab at your back once more like little fern-green needles from the earth. The glacier gust of the gale was almost chilling as it passed through the air aimlessly, almost as if it caressed your sweaty body, your nipples became chafed. Only pleasing the crimson eyes of the demon looming over you.
“Could you be any more slutty? What did I even get myself into? Do you even know what you are to me? A fucking cockslut that wants my dick, that’s what you are,” Sekido spoke once more this time, more arousal shrouding his words as he gripped your thighs that messily rested upon his mocha shoulders.
His sharp, serrated nails sink into your flesh as the further he tightens his grip, the mad man-like grin which permanently stained his face grew just a tad bit. He had stamina for days at this point, it felt like you two were at it for ages.
Your slimy walls just squeezed tightly around his meaty, fat length. “So sensitive..” that was more of a murmur from under his breath, however, utter excitement was laced through the words.
His thrusts we repetitive and had some sort of a rhythm to them, deep and consistent yet rough to the very last T. A perfect combination. Nor was he anything from slow and gentle, fast and filled with desire, but it felt passionate in some form or another.
Your cunt felt itself tightening further, more and more around his thick member that eagerly slammed into you continuously, not breaking rhythm for even the slightest second. “Mm- I’m gonna cum s-soon!” that's all you could muster to say, that wasn’t all gibberish controlled by satisfaction. Your body trembled by his every touch, and that's what he liked, what he loved, what he craved. Like a glutton, he was for your reactions and smutty little expressions.
“You fucking lil bitch, you like what daddy’s giving you, hm? Could you get any more dirty?” he teased you but more degradation was hinted. He was right, maybe you were but just for him, what’s the harm in it then? Really, what’s the harm in indulging in the bliss he provides for his darling slut?
Your obscured gaze didn’t help at all, the tears only continue to make this worse. However, you can make out a vague yet pleasant sight before you, the lovely form of your lover pounding deeply into your cunt, each thrust in an honest attempt to loosen your walls up.
His upper body was muscular but not over the top with muscles; his pecs were laced with various hickeys and bite marks so were his neck and collarbone, almost as if they were matching, but who’s to say you didn't look like you weren’t just attacked by an octopus.
Love bites were scattered along your entire figure, from your stomach to your neck. Peppered to perfection with many bites which marked what was his, you belong to him and him alone.
“Fuck- such a naughty whore, aren’t you?” he said playfully as salty sweat cascaded ever so slowly down his body. He felt himself getting closer and closer with each slam into your wet cunt he did. The throbbing became unbearable for him at this rate but you had to make a mess first.
Your nails seeped deeply into his mocha flesh, leaving behind little crescents implanted in his skin in their way. Your walls clamped harder in anticipation and so did your thighs tighten. The burning pool of heat and excitement built up steadily in the pit of your stomach as he whispered such filthy words into your ear. Words of such lust yet they were shaming you.
His thrusts were fierce and rough, no trace of him slowing down could be accounted for was detected as well. The immense pleasure was edging you so much to reach your final climax; it was all just too much. How could you not give him what he wanted when he was giving you more than enough?
It wasn’t long after you came all over him he that stuffed your wet, stretched-out centre completely. The thick but oozy consistency was to die for as it gradually spilt away from your poor hole. He was most certainly pleased as well, more or less proud as a matter of fact. He made you tremble beneath him and want his touch, pride definitely shot up in him at the sight of your abused cunt.
As the soft prattle of the stream close by filled the atmosphere, you knew, the night had only just begun for you.

© angelic-dew :: please don't translate or reclaim without permission! Reblogs will be appreciated though! <3
#kny smut#tw: smut#demon slayer smut#demon slayer#kny x you#kny x y/n#smut#x reader#female reader#fem reader#sekido#hantengu#hantengu clones#hantengu smut#hantengu x reader#sekido x reader#sekido x you#sekido x y/n#sekido smut#sekido demon slayer
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doppo kunikida + segmented smut alphabet ; 18+

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent
letters used ; b / f / j
masterlist(s) ; here
minors and ageless blogs do not interact
B — Body Part
their favourite part of themselves and their partner
As he’s not a particularly vain man by nature, Kunikida has never really given any thought to the idea of having a ‘favourite’ part of himself. But if you were ever to ask him about it he’d probably just default to his hands (a basic answer and he knows that as well as you do, but you can’t argue with how good he is at using them both to your personal benefit and to the benefit of his fellow ADA members when he’s out in the field).
On you, meanwhile, he’s much more partial to…
(fem aligned) your lips. This partialism of his is at its most obvious whenever you’re wearing some form of lipstick or gloss, but even without the added pigment you’re still sure to catch him staring at your lips at random points throughout the day, very obviously recalling exactly what you were doing to him just a few hours ago.
(neutral) your eyes. There’s just something intoxicating about the way you look at him when he’s making love to you that has his heart racing and his dick aching — and don’t even think about bringing up how quickly he finished when you looked up at him through your lashes when going down on him that one time because he will shut down the conversation loudly and immediately.
(masc aligned) your hands. Regardless of what position you’re in, regardless of whether he’s topping or bottoming, and even regardless of whether you two are fucking or making love, Kunikida will always find a way to hold your hand when you’re having sex — and if he’s close enough to do so (and in a good enough mood in the moment) he may even reach out and pepper kisses along the back of your hand, your palm, and across your knuckles and fingertips (assuming he’s not too far gone to spare the thought to do so).
F — Favourite Position
self explanatory
Kunikida is nothing if not traditional so it should come as no surprise to learn that his preferred position is ‘missionary’ with him on the top. Of course he’s okay with experimenting with you every now and then (he’s not going to turn his nose up at the mating press or doggy style if you ask him to indulge you with either, for example), but he loves the convenience and intimacy of missionary far too much to abandon the position entirely.
J — Jack Off
anything about masturbation
Doppo Kunikida is someone who lives his life as effectively as possible, to the point of creating intense schedules for each day of his life that he refuses to deviate from unless it’s absolutely necessary for him to do so, so it should come as no surprise that masturbation isn’t something he tends to partake in if he can help it. Of course he would very occasionally use it as a form of stress relief before he met you, but after you two became an item he doesn’t see much point in jacking off when he can put that same energy into you and your relationship — besides, his libido isn’t particularly high so the majority of the time when he feels that ‘urge’ he’s either able to ignore it (if you’re unavailable or not in the mood) or just make love to you instead.
#sleepingdeath#minors dni#minors will be blocked#ageless blogs dni#ageless blogs will be blocked#gender neutral reader#smut#smut alphabet#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs smut#bsd kunikida smut#doppo kunikida smut#doppo kunikida x reader#bsd kunikida x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader
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hai i luv your works! could u write smth with sombra it could be hcs or whatever i don’t mind <3



˚ ⋆゚୨୧ I Know Who’s Been Naughty ୨୧ ˚ ⋆゚Sombra x Fem Reader
Synopsis: You’re preparing for Christmas alone without your beloved until she shows up unannounced.
Contains: Fluff, Sombra accidentally scares reader, lots of cuddles, a bit of hurt/comfort
Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Santa Baby - Laufey
Notes: Hi !! So sorry for the late response to this request, but I hope you like this !! Something short n sweet for Christmas ❄️🎄☃️ I hope everyone had a happy holiday season ❤︎
You had already come to terms that you’d be alone for Christmas this year. Olivia was busy. Of course she was, she already had so much on her plate at Talon, so you didn’t want to be the nagging girlfriend who caused her even more problems. So you sucked it up, and wished her a Merry Christmas Eve through text with an abundance of festive emojis to mask the disappointment that was bubbling up inside of you.
The sweet, decadent hot chocolate you’d been nursing all night was beginning to run low and it was about time for another mug. If you couldn’t be with Olivia, then at least you could drown yourself in sugar and cheesy Christmas movies. Your fuzzy socks dragged across the cold floor as you shuffled into the kitchen to start making another mug of hot chocolate when you heard feather light footsteps. Your body tensed, you were honestly on edge without Olivia here. A burglar, kidnapper, killer… Your mind was running a mile a second thinking of who could be in your house.
Whoever was in your home had stilled somewhere in the room because you could no longer hear the faint footsteps.
“Hello?” Your voice wavered, coming out much more feeble than you wanted it to.
And in an instant, a bright purple glow emanated from the kitchen revealing your girlfriend to you. She decked out head to toe in a silly Christmas pajama set that somehow matched the ones you were wearing. You couldn’t question how she knew though because Olivia had her ways.
“Mi conejita…” Sombra cooed at you. Glassy eyes stared back at her and she couldn’t help but think you looked extremely cute. As soon as she saw your lip tremble and heard a soft sniffle coming from you she enveloped you in her arms. She had a firm grip around your waist that didn’t budge even as your body shook with your sobs. You felt pathetic for crying, but you just missed your lover so bad. It got lonely without her sometimes, and it was too much to bear around the holidays especially.
Olivia knew you needed a moment to gather yourself and she was more than happy to give that time to you if it meant she’d be able to see your beautiful smile later on. She did feel bad though, she had meant for her entrance to be a little joke, but instead she spooked you to the point of making your voice tremble. When she heard your uncertain voice calling out “Hello?” she immediately regretted not just telling you she was coming home.
Your breathing was finally returning to normal and you were no longer actively crying, but your cheeks were still glistening with crystalline tears. “I missed you so much…” Your lips formed a pout as your eyes fell on her face. Oh how you missed looking at all the little details that made up her beauty. The little slit on her eyebrows, the prominent mole under her left eye, the way her lips were always glossed with a pretty purple pigment… You could go on and on about what made her so beautiful on the outside, but at the end of the day what really made her beautiful was her heart.
To have her trust was to have access to her heart, and it was truly a gift to be one of the few people who could say they had that privilege. She was closed off, but to those who mattered she was a caring soul. Even if she had a real knack for playing little tricks on you and appearing out of nowhere, scaring the life out of you, she still cared deeply for you. Sbe couldn’t imagine leaving you alone on a day like this.
“I’m sorry for scaring you conejita, I just wanted to surprise you tonight.” Her tone was regretful and you felt guilty for crying so much when you were supposed to be feeling happy. You began to reach up so you could wipe away your tears, but Olivia beat you to it. Still keeping one arm firmly wrapped around your waist, she gently wiped your cheeks with her sleeve until your tears were all dried up. The bottom of her sleeve was damp with your emotions, but Olivia didn’t mind. She found it a bit endearing that you were such a crybaby.
“C’mere baby.” She led you to your shared living room and tugged you down with her. You landed in a pile on the couch immediately breaking out into a fit of giggles. You snuggled closer to her, intertwining your limbs together. Your leg draped over her hip and your arms wrapped around her neck.
You peered into her eyes before pecking her on the lips gently. She smiled, pulling you into a much more intense kiss. Your lips meshed together easily, and you found your rhythm instantly. Olivia’s hand squeezed your waist, earning a soft moan from you. As much as you wanted to keep going, you parted the kiss before it escalated too much in favor of cuddling your girlfriend.
“Hmmm… I know who’s been naughty.” Her hands trailed down to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. You squealed out at your lover's antics.
Olivia could only chuckle at your reaction, she couldn’t help it. Her hands rested on your hips once more before resting her head on your shoulder. Every so often she’d press little kisses into whatever skin was exposed as she spoke about her days at work. You shared your own anecdotes as well, and for a moment it felt like she’d never left. “Will you stay tomorrow too?” You mumbles softly, ready to prepare yourself for the possibility of her being gone by morning.
She hummed, affirming her presence. “I’ll be here for a week if everyone can do their jobs correctly.” Her lips met your skin again and you felt giddy. You just squeezed her tighter and rested your head on top of hers.
The holidays wouldn’t be so lonely this year.
#i know who’s been naughty ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚#dulcet requests ♡#dulcet fics ♡#sombra x reader#sombra x fem reader#sombra#sombra overwatch#overwatch#overwatch x reader
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I'm still unlearning a lot of my internalized ableism, how does one go about describing things like FD without sounding judgemental or like it's "scary" like I'm sure I could say "He had a large burn scar on his jaw and neck" but can I say that a scar is "jagged" or would something less provocative, like say, "uneven" be more appropriate? Scars obviously aren't the only type of FD, just the one that came right to mind.
(sidenote: Looking at a list of FD and albinism is one apparently? I don't know why that never occurred to me before! I have two characters with albinism in my story! It's more a collection of short stories (maybe) but one of the protagonists of those stories has Albinism!)
Hey,
The more neutral you go, the better. "Jagged" sounds rough, I don't think that it would be a great choice. To me, "uneven" sounds okay, but from talking to other people with facial differences, I would say that "asymmetric" would be better. If it's a scar, then you can always go and just describe the actual shape as well. You can say that the scar is faded, or raised, or [insert color] too.
For how to get used to not describing it as "not scary", I genuinely just recommend looking at real people with facial differences. I think that the "scary" connotation is largely because people associate scars more with 70s horror villains who wore bloody makeup rather than actual human beings. Of course a person would think that that's scary if that's what they think of.
"Scary" stops being the default when you see how we really are and look like. We're just boring guys with patches of tight skin, suburban moms with raised lines that happen to be on our faces, annoying men on Tumblr whose muscles and nerves that don't move the same way yours do, or theater kids with skulls that formed differently than yours. So, regular people who have different facial features. Why would our features be scary, when ableds' aren't? It's not like people without facial differences all look the same. The more you get familiar with us the more bizarre the "scary" connotation will be. When you know how a burn scar actually looks like it's just hard to describe it as scary because that there's nothing to be scared of. It's literally just skin with different texture with sometimes different facial structure underneath it. Personally, I'm having a very hard time coming up with what others are actually scared of - IDK, maybe because I have seen and interacted with so many of my fellow people with FDs that I see them as friends and nice humans first. And I generally don't tend to be scared of either of these; maybe that's where my problem lays, IDK.
What is here to judge either? People just look different from each other, disabled or not. When describing a character, don't judge them for not having a jaw the same way you're hopefully not judging someone for having a round face or a wide nose.
Albinism is a facial difference; other pigmentation conditions also can count, such as vitiligo, because they affect how the face looks like. If you need any helps with those characters, I recommend our #albinism representation tag.
I hope this helps,
mod Sasza
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answering all my asks in a big bunch
@help-system
it's kind of cool to think about actually & something i didn't consider (re: the implications for future generations). the reason he has to stay in a town flock isn't just because he's formed attachments there, but because he is vision-impaired and his feathers are fucked from lack of structural pigment and would struggle to live without the support system (for lack of a better term) of the town around him. his survival depends on living in a society. that also means he'll survive to pass on this trait when otherwise he would not. it's recessive so yeah could definitely be passed on!
@focshi
Oh habitat & life habits change the look of the nests completely. for the ama plains eagle harpies I was imagining a kind of gourd-shaped woven bower.. sortaaa like this as the eastern edge of the plains (where they live) has emergent columnar basalt and it's on these big stone stacks where they make their nests. use rope and picks to secure the bowers to the columns and the king's eyrie (the tallest one naturally) is built around a log tied upright with guy-ropes driven into the stone. they are all flexible enough that they blow around a lot in the wind without suffering much damage (see pic below)
in between them are net-like rope platforms and ladders as well as more 'spires' which are the trees propped upright on the columns. solid stone is the only safe 'ground' material to build nests on.
@gardenergulfie many of the monsters were bound by additional magical rules on top of the "you are twisted into a monstrous form" main thing. i hadn't thought of many tbh but i believe sphinxes were more strictly bound by their riddle names rather than just doing it playfully by choice, i know there was more but it escapes me. i'll have to think of some!
wyrms are cursed with immortality in a very classical sense so it would be impossible for Revelation not to be around in Cuinn's time. but ah... i wouldn't say it's in a good state
wildfire unfortunately is no longer with us. in mind & spirit anyway.
For eagle harpies, baby-rearing is not communal. The parents swap brooding/hunting roles (one broods/warms the young, the other hunts, they barely get time to sleep). Once baby is old enough to fly it hops out and joins the other fledglings in their eyrie. Parents rarely have anything to do with them after that but they will occasionally stop by to deliver discipline if they feel their offspring isn't behaving properly.
Partnerships are monogamous (but if the king wants your girl then that's his girl for the night) and last as long as any relationships might; could be many years, could barely last a season. there's a stigma against breaking up while tending a nest so some harpies with relationship problems tough it out for the sake of the kids (this never works)
The king does not care about his offspring as people, only as tokens of his virility and strength. Kings often boast of how many offspring they have (and the All-King can have hundreds) but do they know all (or even any of) their kids' names? of course not
Regular cobs do most of the fathering because most flocks don't have a king and they have to reproduce somehow. There's no visible difference between the offspring of a king vs the offspring of a cob. eggs is eggs
Eagle harpy pens can lay up to 4 eggs in one nesting season. Sibling aggression is common in the early days and if unsupervised they can kill one another but that's seen as a sign of lazy and inattentive parenting UNLESS the baby being picked on was kinda runty and then it's their own fault for being a whimp and they should toughen up. Parents can lay unfertilised eggs but rarely do, it's similar to a false pregnancy. Unfertilised eggs are eaten. Harpies of different species base cannot interbreed, but bear in mind that harpy species diversity is overall much lower than birds.
Eagle harpies are VERY protective of their eggs. It's not unheard of for other harpies of the same eyrie to steal their neighbours' eggs for various reasons (you can gain favour if you have one of the king's offspring in your nest....). many predators also might want to take some as well (sphinxes are... very ferocious predators of harpies, but also you gotta watch out for that little human who might have ambitions of being a falconer). parents will guard their eggs viciously.
I don't think it's unreasonable to imagine such a scam tbh... yeah sure take this egg it'll tooootally hatch into a big strong harpy. human falconers probably candle their eggs frequently to monitor them so i think they would catch on very quickly though hehe
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katsuki hates everything (except he does not)
| one
Katsuki hates red.
He hates the way it burned against his skin, the way it dragged its color and painted him pretty shades of pink and magenta and everything in between; he hates the way it tasted against the tip of his tongue, his buds begging for more of that sickly sweet flavor.
Out of all the colors on the color wheel, his mind hesitated and hovered over a strip of stained blood and painted nails—of cheap hair dye and tattered clothing and anything that remotely let the damn pigmentation bleed into itself.
Katsuki hates red—
He hates how much he loves it.
| two
Katsuki hates crocs.
Who the fuck wears crocs these days?
Katsuki will never understand the ideal shoe would be having holes across the expanse of it and enjoying the curved, sturdy platform that wouldn’t do no good in a hazy game of soccer or a walk around the park underneath the blazing sun.
They were the embodiment of impulsive decisions and shark teeth and crimson eyes and the smell of axe body spray; they were nothing but the habit of scratching the nape of a neck or averting eyes every time they were directly looked at—they were pretty and beautiful and manly and all things good—
And maybe Katsuki hated it. He didn’t like the way those piercing grins and pushy hands accompanied with a pair of bright red crocs that were so distracting that he himself couldn’t look away without the utter disgust of a frown forming on his mouth.
Those shoes needed to be burned to a crisp; no love needed by wearing them every chance they got.
But—
They were his and if he loved them and cherished them like a goddamn trophy wife then possibly, Katsuki did too.
| three
Katsuki hates being a tutor.
Katsuki wanted to rip these damn calculations up and explode them into a dust of ashes, hoping to wash away his traveling thoughts of pencil sketches and doodles that littered the borders of the white stationary.
He had no patience to teach such intricate and complicated equations to someone who won’t even bother to pay attention to his hard-headed lectures.
Once in awhile Katsuki felt the urge to roll up pages of homework and bang them along stupid red spikes that shot high up and never faltered after every hit. But no sound of resistance came out, no whine of complaints, no smoothing over the points at the top of a head; there was nothing but the outburst of giggles and counters of insults that were directed Katsuki’s way.
If Katsuki wasn’t in middle school anymore, he would’ve blasted them through the thin walls of their dorm rooms, hoping to leave a human shaped hole after.
But he wasn’t and he wouldn’t admit to himself, but—
Katsuki quite liked the way that laugh echoed against the shells over his ears and the way it sent unexpected shivers up his arms and had his stomach twisted uncomfortably, but in a good way.
Because even if those funny comments didn’t know how to work a single problem in their textbook—he didn’t not like it.
No—Katsuki didn’t mind.
| four
Katsuki hates when he’s not smiling anymore.
His smile falters.
His enthusiastic, blinding, beautiful smile—hesitates.
Katsuki has never been so livid in his entire life. He can’t remember exactly why he’s angry or why the sudden feeling of igniting bombs in the palms of his hand was his go-to course of action because, because, because —
The boy full of cheerful grins and pumped up fists was no longer smiling and Katsuki will be damned if he lets it continue. He no longer held the world in his hands and his red eyes no longer glazed with the small excitement of a child and he no longer spoke those soft words reserved only for Katsuki.
So, Katsuki brought anything that could comfort him. He brought a heavy amount of sugary snacks, discs of shitty movies, and the worn out sweatshirt of Crimson Riot that he may or may have not stolen from his closet some time ago.
And when he sees them huddled into Katsuki’s folded arms, he finally smiles.
He smiles small and low, but it’s genuine and it’s there and Katsuki hopes to never fail at bringing it up again.
Because Katsuki hates when he isn’t showing those sharp teeth he likes so much.
| five
“Bakugou,”
Katsuki grunts.
The other takes it as his cue to continue. “Do you like me?”
Katsuki has to take a full double turn at the question—because what the fuck was that. He tried to form any sentence that could possibly respond to that absurd and stupid inquiry, but seeing those eyes drop low at his silence has him reeling back to reality and forgetting anything else he was thinking about.
“What kind of fucking question is that?”
Silence.
Katsuki thinks and he thinks and he thinks—
“What do you think Shitty Hair,”
He opens his mouth,
“Yes?”
Katsuki snorts at the confusion. But, he couldn’t leave him in the dark. Not anymore. He spent too long fantasizing about pink cheeks and sharp edges of skin; thought way too hard at the idea that maybe those chapped lips that were constantly tugged and pulled from pointed teeth were actually soft and sweet.
Maybe he tasted like orange soda he bought at the convenience store he so rightfully argued was the best beverage out there or maybe he tasted like late night snacks of graham crackers he hid underneath the cabinets from the rest of their classmates (stingy, might he add).
Whatever it was—he did. He really did.
So, Katsuki took one more glance at him , a glance of everything red, of everything matching with those damn crocs he liked, of his inability to figure out how exactly a math equation should be solved, of sad tears on sad evenings and—
“Yes,”
Katsuki breathed one last time.
“I do like you,”
One more sigh—
“Eijirou.”
#fluff#drabble#alternate universe#angry bakugou katsuki#soft bakugou#soft kirishima#kirishima and bakugou#bnha#bnha fanfictions#kirishima eijirou#bakugou katsuki#mha#kiribaku#my hero academia
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Ninjago Oni and Dragon Headcanons
Look... I just need to rant about my made-up lore for the Oni (and some for the dragons), because I hate that the show basically said the Oni are just born evil. This will also talk about reproduction and stuff, just so you know. It's mostly just a way for me to keep track of the made-up lore.
This has spoilers for everything including the first two seasons of Dragons Rising!!!
The First Dragon — First things first, we have to touch on the balance of the Oni, which means talking about the dragons. Dragons Rising introduces us to the concept of Source Dragons, which brings up the question, "Did the Source Dragons come before or after Firstbourne?" I'm gonna say that the Source Dragons came before Firstbourne and therefore, she wasn't actually the first dragon. The actual first dragon, in my headcanon, is long dead and the Source Dragons were her first seven eggs. I'd like to say the first dragon was creation manifested into a physical form, and she has returned to being an energy and power, rather than a living being.
The First Oni — All things have a balance, so as there was a first dragon, there is also a first Oni. It seems like most people turn to the Omega for that role, but to me he doesn't act like a being that saw the dawn of reality. So just like the unnamed first dragon, the unnamed first Oni is also long dead. This first Oni didn't have a concept of gender, but will mostly be referred to with masculine terminology. He was destruction and change manifested in a physical form. He too has returned to the nothing-space as pure power.
Oni Coloring — I didn't like that all Oni were simply black as night, except for Lloyd. It just felt like a cheap way of being like "Lookie here! The Green Ninja is super special! He's the shiny Oni!" Also, Oni can shape shift and can change their color, so why was it that during Season 10, all the Oni were the same uniform color? This question led me to two headcanons, one about reproduction and the other about the Omega being a dictator similar to Empress Beatrix.
Oni Reproduction Processes — I think that Oni are capable of both sexual reproduction and non-sexual reproduction. The non-sexual process is what I call "Spawning" and I got the idea for it from the few times we've seen Oni affect and reshape their environment. When it comes to spawning, I think Oni take the void itself and reshape it into a being resembling the Oni species and then imbue the spawn with some of their own power. With the rush of power, the spawn is brought to life. Any and all Oni spawn technically have no biological family, unless they decide to sexually reproduce and have children. Spawn are also naturally black, because they gain their pigmentation from the void itself. (I would like to note that born Oni can also be born black, but it's rare, especially when compared to spawned Oni, which are all naturally black.) This is how Oni gained in numbers quickly, even without the power to create. Of course, there has to be some sort of cap, so I say at most Oni can spawn only three times without putting themselves in danger. If an Oni attempted to spawn a fourth child, they would run the risk of dying. Six spawns has never been successfully attempted as all the Oni who tried it died during the "Powering Ritual," killing both the potential spawner and potential spawn.
The Omega — I like to imagine that "Omega" is a title that has been passed down. The reason for it being a title is the fact there is near alway a "the" in front of the word. I wouldn't call Lloyd "the Lloyd" or Kai "the Kai." I would however say "the king" or "the empress." In my headcanon the Omega is a title which basically means the supreme leader of the Oni, and I headcanon the position was originally made right before the FSM was born (about a thousand years already into the war). The Omega we meet in season 10 is a power-hungry tyrannical dictator, who is forcing those that exist under his rule to conform. This specific Omega is also a spawn and therefore naturally a black color. He is the reason all the Oni who weren't naturally black were forced to appear so.
The Three Warlords — In the show, we learn that there were three Oni warlords and Tommy (one of the creators) said that Mystake was one of those warlords. I'll touch on each specific warlord later, this is a general look at all three of them. I think these warlords were the three Oni who came after the first Oni. Because the first Oni was the first and only member of his kind and he didn't have the power to create using magic, he must have spawned the warlords, hence why Mystake is naturally a pitch black. Because all three were spawned, none of them were actually biologically related and I don't think they would have had the same familial constructs back then. I like to say the masks represent the three tenets of Oni warfare. Hatred is the beginning of all wars, battles fought during wars are just a back-and-forth of vengeance, and most Oni wars ended with deception of some kind. The powers granted by the masks were actually very symbolic. The Mask of Hatred gave one the strength and toughness needed to begin a fight, the Mask of Vengeance gave one the assets necessary to fight longer and harder with an advantage on the battlefield, and the Mask of Deception gave one the power to change their situation and almost guarantee victory. But yeah, that's how I see the warlords and their masks.
Ha'eed — Ha'eed was the first Oni to be spawned by the original Oni. This was still in a time before gender constructs, but Ha'eed would later find himself being drawn more to masculine presentation, once it was introduced to Oni culture by humans. I for one am not a fan of the whole "Ha'eed, Venge, and Decer are just Oni words for what the masks are called." In my mind, Ha'eed's name has an actual meaning. I imagine the comma in the middle of his name means "of," and that will come into play. I've decided "Ha" means strength and "Eed" means passion. In the end, his name would have meant the strength of passion. I personally think that the Oni didn't originally name themselves and instead were given names by the humans of the first realm. This eventually became a custom adopted by the Oni and they started naming young Oni when they first came into the world. Ha'eed was the last of the warlords to spawn, for he hadn't seen a reason too until the war. (It was this thought of his that began the age of "spawn three then leave" which allowed certain Oni to abandon the fight by replacing their efforts three times over with the efforts of their spawned. This later evolved into the age of the Omegas, who then forced every adult Oni to spawn five and still wouldn't let the spawner to leave the fight.)
Decer — Decer was the second to be made. (*gasp* I know, I just established an order in which the tenets of Oni warfare appear, but I do not think that should mean the warlords were spawned in the same order.) Decer's name means growth and wisdom, because the ancient humans of the first realm admired Decer's intelligence and her love for learning. (This is, of course, before the war began.) Decer would later go on to successfully spawn five Oni and was the first to do so. It took a lot out of her, and she never made an emotional connection with them, for they were only a means of keeping the species alive. Decer would later watch as the species flourished and as familial culture and bonds began to take the rest of the Oni by storm. She would find herself alone with no parents, siblings, or children. She had been made in a time when that hadn't been what mattered to the Oni... hadn't been what mattered to her. Decer, of course, would later follow the FSM into the realm of Ninjago. She would watch as Wojira was defeated and as the FSM erected the lands of her future home. Decer ended up killing her fellow warlords, and took upon herself the name "Mystake." She then dedicated her life to watching over the young Dragoni hybrid, his children, and his two grandsons. (Yes I am including Morro as one of the FSM's grandchildren, and I like to think Mystake taught the boy quite a bit.) I'm gonna be for real for a moment, I don't think Mystake is actually dead. I know she is in canon, but in one of the episodes in Master of the Mountain, we see a sky folk woman who is voiced by Mystake's voice actor and is doing the same exact voice. I think Mystake was just gravely injured and went to Shintaro to heal and take a break from all the insanity in Ninjago City.
Venge — Venge was the youngest and was the most open to new ideas and ways of life. In other words, Venge was the weird one. She was the first to give herself a defined gender, and she was the first to spawn Oni. (She only did three, for she did not think she could handle even trying to spawn a fourth.) Venge was the first of the warlords to approach humankind and was the first to be given a name. Her name means spirit or kind spirit, because the humans still thought Oni were spirits of nature back then. She also didn't connect with her spawned, but she would be the only one of the warlords to ever have her own blood child. She really cared for her son, but she also believed he had been manipulated by the dragons and he refused to embrace her side of his heritage. (Yes, I think Venge was the Oni parent of the First Spinjitzu Master.) Venge became a bit too forceful with wanting to drag her son back to the first realm and bring the war to an end, and so after Mystake got rid of Ha'eed she gave Venge a choice. (Really, it was more like a test and Venge failed.) Mystake ended Venge's life as well.
Oni Culture — I'm not subscribed to the whole idea of there being three types of Oni; the Oni tribe of Hatred, the tribe of Vengeance, and the tribe of Deception Oni. I am fond of the concept of Oni originally having a tribal society, but I do not think there were only three, and I do not think they were based on the masks. I think at the height of Oni society, right before the war, the Oni would have been spread out across the first realm in over 1000 tribes of about seventy different Oni at least. I also think these tribes had human members and members who were part human and part Oni. I like to imagine Oni were very tight-knit and loyal. I also think they loved to use their ability of changing the environment to create structures. I think Oni loved to make art and music. I just think they were passionate. (I headcanon that Oni powers are made stronger with passion, but using passionate anger and hatred is dangerous because those are the most uncontrollable passions. Most Oni would resort instead to using passionate love and joy to fuel their powers. This is why they had such loving communities and took pride in creating new things, they were empowering themselves and others with passion.)
The True Beginning of the War — I feel like the war began with one Oni tribe, a singular dragon, and a misunderstanding. (We've never gotten a true reason for the war so I've resorted to saying that no one remembers the true reason because it was forgettable and insignificant.) The scenario I usually go with is that a young Oni child had some sort of shiny thing that held sentimental value, which they left outside. A young dragon, who was going through its first hoarding season picked up the object and flew off with it. (I headcanon hoarding season as a time when dragons are instinctually inclined to hoard a lot in preparation for mating season. Their hoards are used to impress each other and draw in a dragon who enjoys hoarding the same kind of thing.) The small Oni child ran off to the young dragon's nest and attempted to retrieve their item. The dragon apologized for their behavior and gave it back, but the Oni child, who was new to their powers, accidentally destroyed the item. The dragon's instincts screamed about how the child had disrespected the dragon's hoard and would therefore have to pay. The child left in a fit, but the dragon was hounded by its instincts to a maddening degree. It burned down the child's home... luckily no one was hurt. This action confused the Oni of the tribe, for they had no quarrels with this young dragon, or any dragon for that matter. They decided to fight back against the one dragon. Word among dragonkind spread about a tribe of Oni and a young dragon fighting. It angered the other dragons, who did not know the true reason for the ongoing fight. Dragons were well aware that Oni were loyal to each other and were very tight-knit; however, they were unaware that this only applied to the Oni within an Oni's tribe and not all Oni in the entire world. A dragon attacked an Oni tribe that existed multiple miles away from the original tribe and young dragon. This tribe didn't know why they were attacked, but they fought back against the dragon who had harmed them. This continued on until the Oni realized that they were being killed much faster than the dragons, and if they were to survive, they would have to let go of tribal issues and unite the entire species. And so, the war between the dragons and the Oni began.
The War Progresses and Hope Returns — Full-blooded Oni weren't the only ones being harmed by the dragons. Dragons also attacked halflings and partlings. The human parents and relatives of these halfling and partlings were horrified. I feel like at some point a part Oni child was killed and their human parent couldn't let it go. This is why the Mask of Hatred was crafted. The human parent had demanded to be allowed to fight for their deceased child. Two other humans also watched their halfling children die, and they too joined the fray of battle. At the beginning of the war, some humans sided with Oni and others sided with dragons, one day humans would side with neither. As time stretched on, some Oni begged to leave the fight, for while they had the power to destroy, they longed only to create, and they couldn't do so in a time of war. Those Oni were allowed to leave after spawning three, and they always fled to a different realm. It was the Oni who fled to the Never-Realm that watched as a new species evolved from the union between humanity and Onikind, they were called the Formlings. Venge one day returned from a mission into draconic territory acting a little off. This continued until it was revealed that Venge was pregnant with a blood child. When the child was born, everyone could tell it had draconic blood, and they felt hope that maybe this child would end the long war. The child was given an Oni name meaning precious hope, for he embodied every last bit of hope the Oni had. After many years without, Oni began to sing and dance again, enjoying life.
How Not to End a War — The FSM was raised by humans, or at least he thought he was. (I've never given him a proper name, but I have decided he has two. His Oni name means precious hope and his draconic name means little might.) You see, the FSM was given to humans, so he would be raised with no bias for either side; however, Venge visited very often and showered her baby boy with love. The only issue with being raised outside of the war, was the fact that the humans gave him some unreliable information. By the time he had been born, the last human to ever fight on either side of the war was long dead, so humans were very removed from the situation and from the cultures of both Oni and dragons. They only taught the FSM about what they saw. They mentioned how Oni were clearly evil because all they did was destroy everything, and they didn't remember that it was the Oni who had manipulated the wood and stone to craft the humans' sturdy houses. They talked about how nature was dying out and claimed it was all the Oni's fault, never thinking about how the dragons also torched the battlefields and killed any animal in sight in case it was an Oni in disguise. The humans were simpleminded and couldn't see how much the Oni loved to create, so they poisoned the FSM's view of his own heritage. When the FSM was sixteen, the age of maturity according to the ancient humans of the first realm, he traveled to the side of the dragons and befriended the dragon the humans claimed mothered all other dragons. With that dragon, he forged armor and charged into battle, deciding that the only way to end the war was if there was a victory, and he planned for the dragons to be the victorious side.
The Age of the Omega and Ninjago — After the initial betrayal of the FSM against Onikind, Venge was inconsolable. She, the kindest of the three warlords, became hateful and cruel. She killed dragons with the ferocity of a mindless beast, for she blamed them for turning her baby against her. As the other two warlords scrambled to make Venge actually follow a strategy rather than rush into battle with a thirst for blood, the collective leaders of all the combined tribes fell into a depression. Finally, one rose up and claimed they needed one leader, just like the dragons only had one leader. This leader became known as the Omega. All Oni bowed before the Omega, even the three ancient warlords. With the Omega came the darkest age of Oni history, an age that stretched from the days of the FSM up to the Oni March on Ninjago. The first Omega demanded that her subjects draw from their anger and hatred, for they had almost no joy or love anymore, the war had killed such feelings. This caused the other Oni to act more beastly and cruelly. After many years, the FSM ran away from the first realm to the unnamed realm that housed Wojira. The second Omega demanded the three generals retrieve the boy and sway him to their side. The generals stayed in the shadows and watched from afar. They made a few attempts to get the FSM to listen to their words. As time passed, Decer fell in love with the realm, Ninjago was its new name. Ha'eed became bitter, being forced out of the first realm to complete a task he thought impossible. Venge had some hope that her precious child would ally himself with her if he only knew she was his mother. One day, Ha'eed lashed out and decided it would be best to harm the young man and force him back, but Venge became immediately territorial and Decer also stood against him. Tired of waiting, Ha'eed attacked the other two. In the end, Decer was the one who ended Ha'eed's life. After many more years, Venge began to slip into thoughts that maybe hurting her baby momentarily was worth it in the long run. Decer killed Venge as well.
The March of the Oni — The newest and current Omega was a spawn who had grown up in a toxic and horrible environment. He gained power and fought for his title. When he won the duel, he instated new rules, including one that forced all Oni to conform and look like he did. The Omega proceeded to lead the Oni out of the first realm and on a long hunt through the other realms to find any full-blooded Oni who were descended from those that had abandoned the fight. He forced them to enter his army, otherwise he would kill them. Those too young to fight were nursed by those too crippled in the war to fight any longer. When the young turned twelve, they were forced to fight, the Omega deciding that was a viable age for fighting. When the Oni marched on Ninjago, some that were done with the Omega's cruelty had managed to sneak away while Lloyd and Garmadon were distracting the Omega and his loyal soldiers. Those Oni would build lives for themselves and lay low until a time elapsed in which they were less hated for simply existing. As for the Oni who were present for the Tornado of Creation, they were banished to the Nothing-Space or Etherial Divide. They will claw at the fabric of the Merged Realms until they can break in and be a problem.
Random little things (might add more in the future)
Oni are large cats with bad attitudes and dragons are weird dogs.
Oni have fur and can purr when content and happy.
Look, I just can't if dragons are allowed to be unique and interesting with their colors and body types, and the Oni are forced to be nothing more that evil beings born black as the night itself, with very little variation. It's just not fair! So yes, my Oni are one hundred percent multicolored and have varying body types.
Oni = Passionate People with a love for living and existing. I don't make the rules! (I totally do, these are my headcanons after all.)
The element of creation is powered by calmness and serenity.
I've made lore for only one specific Oni tribe, and it's the one that used to live in the place the boys found with Faith. I call this tribe the Shal'iec, which I say means Mountain of Melodies. They would have been known for their folk music. I say that when the war broke out, they began to house people in their home and dug it out more to make room for more people. Eventually the sacred ancestral home of the Shal'iec Oni tribe became the main fortress of the war. The Shal'iec themselves all fled to the Never-Realm, for they could feel themselves losing their passionate spark the longer the war went on around them.
I honestly just love a story about how a society can be broken down and robbed of their very identity and then called monsters. Like, it scratches an itch in brain to make it so the Oni weren't totally evil, and to actually give them personalities beyond "I crave destruction and death."
#ninjago#ninjago oni#idk what im doing#i just need to be able to find this later#please don't hate fam
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What other headcanons do you have for the koopaling
(Warning, you might have doomed yourself... But I really, really like the ask! I will never pass up the oppertunity to gush/share about my Koopalings).
My Koopalings are all biologically related, and all share the same mom and dad. (Junior of course doesn't. He is Bowsers bio son, while the others are adopted. But the other seven are biological siblings).
That usually sparks the question "But, why do they look so different then?"
Well...
Ludwig and Morton have a condition whereby their colours are different than they were originally supposed to be. (Melanism is a condition where an individual of a species produces more melanin (dark pigment) than is normal for the species).
Ludwig was supposed to be the same light blue as Larry, but due to being partially melanistic, he became a dark blue instead. (This also goes for Ludwigs eyes, which are dark blue instead of the light blue that practically all of his other siblings have).
Morton is pretty much fully melanistic, which is why he is completely white/black/brown. His pigment is devoid of all other colours. (Similar to Ludwig, Morton’s eyes are brown instead of light blue).
Lemmy simply has his hair dyed. He actually has the bright green colour hair that Iggy has.
(These go for both my Koopas as well as the humans. But with the human forms, the dark green on the shaven part of Larry’s hair is also actually just hair dye).
Where Ludwig and Morton have a medical condition that doesn't really affect their daily lives, Iggy and Roy unfortunately aren’t as lucky...
Iggy has epilepsy. He can sometimes have seizures, and when he does, he’s pretty much “out of the playing field” for a few days. He can do stuff the next day… But don’t count on it being a lot. (Seizures, or at least mine, which Iggy’s are like, hurt like hell for your muscles, and leave you tired and even lesser focussed than usual, for a good couple of days afterwards). For someone as naturally energetic as Iggy, this sucks ass. Luckily, he can tinker on some small things again the next day. Just not big things that he really need his focus for.
Roy’s sunglasses aren’t just for show. He actually needs them to see well. His eyes are over sensitive to light, so he needs his sunglasses to actually comfortably see shit, without having to constantly squint his eyes.
Extra stuff I can't find a nice flow to, but want to share-.
Iggy loves to bake. His dad, grandpa, and older brother eventually became fed up with his exploding science projects, that they had to find him something else. (Of course the others eventually got problems with it, too, but Bowser, Kamek, and Ludwig were the most vocal ones.)
Morton eventually suggested cooking to his big brother, which Iggy did try... But it ended up being more frustrating than fun for him.
(Cooking was a bit too free for his liking).
Eventually Larry wanted to try and bake muffins when he found a recipe for them which he thought sounded yummy. Iggy was the only one with no other duties that day, and was willing to help his little brother. This made him realize that baking was the thing that satisfied his need/want that his science projects gave him, but this was much safer. (Of course, shit can burn. But a charred cake is much better than an explosion).
He bakes every once in a while. He does it on his own just as often as with one of his siblings. The one that he bakes with significantly more than the others, is Larry.
(This is shown in one of my one-shots over on Archive Of Our Own, where Iggy bakes, with the help of Larry, and a bit of help from Junior).
[I will make another post with another thing about my Koopalings, but lets not make this one too big...]
If anyone has more specific questions about my Koopalings (all 7 + Junior in this case), don't be afraid to ask!
#moony7draco#koopalings#ludwig von koopa#iggy koopa#lemmy koopa#roy koopa#wendy o koopa#morton koopa jr#larry koopa#bowser junior
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