#[ there's still something quite fancy to it; but in a much simpler way. and a loose-hanging fit like that? it has that romantic air to it.

[araneitela]

I live for when these unexpected little things happen. Okay, so I forget to loop the song I had picked to listen to on Youtube, and it ends up auto-playing to a live performance of a song. So I peek over, and I see the outfit that she's wearing. High-waist trousers, and that shirt, mostly tucked in as it is, with its sleeves rolled up just like that? It's a bit of that old-school romantic aesthetic, it exudes a certain old-fashioned femininity, it's quite timeless in its simplicity, and classy despite a rather relaxed fit. This is something that I see Kafka wearing during her downtime, and especially within the comforts of the Stellaron Hunter HQ/complex, and exactly in that color-scheme as well: darker in the legs, lighter in the upper body. It's simple, there might be the ever-enduring presence of that single earring (pearl), a thin bracelet at most but even that I'm hesitant about, and while she'd be void of any sort of necklace, you could smell the fragrance of that signature Black Opium as always.

[ruija]

Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?

Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.

As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.

The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.

Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.

However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.

As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.

So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.

Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.

However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.

Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.

If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!

Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.

Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.

Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.

So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.

Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!

Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!

[dotieeee]

A Small Set of Agreements

Part 2 of A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK three-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, non-con/dub-con kissing and touching etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Officially now a three-part series!!! Masterlist here Part 1: Click here

Summary: You were imprisoned by a vindictive Endless, who will stop at nothing to win you over, including taking advantage of your forced vulnerability.

The grand dining hall of the Dreaming was empty, save the King of Dreams and you, his little plaything, the one he claimed to have caught his affections. Clearly, with this splendid display of all your favourite dishes, with the elaborate, ruby-coloured gown he said he fashioned from his own sand that you now wore, the miles and miles of red tulips he showed you during your walk with him on Fiddler's Green, he was trying to win you over.

Yet, despite the voracious appetite you had developed the moment you were free from your glass cage, here you were, toying with a slice of peach on your plate, very much not hungry and over all just about done with the way your jailer was unabashedly staring at you across from where he was sitting. The hungry looks you were getting from barely three feet away had absolutely nothing to do with food.

You tucked your fork neatly on the plate and pushed it away gently. Morpheus, who was leaning back on his dining chair like the king he was, tilted his head in concern. "Is there something the matter, my beloved? Is the food not to your liking?"

You gave a quick smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "The food was great, thank you. Is there, uh…" is there no end to this, you had meant to ask, but decided against it. "Is there anything more you'd like me to do?"

You didn't like the sly grin that followed your question.

"I can think of many things I'd like you to do," he said, his voice dipping dangerously lower.

Fidgeting in your seat, you fought the urge to glare at him, and instead looked daggers at the innocent, half-finished peach cake on your abandoned plate. “I’m just saying, it’s getting a bit late. Not that I had much to do anyway…” Your voice trailed off, your mind drifting off to simpler times: how, around five in the afternoon, you and a colleague would get some coffee from the bakeshop, then rush back to the office to finish wherever you left off; sometimes your boss would get a box of those fancy doughnuts delivered and all of you would share five minutes of the afternoon sugar rush and  bitching about the accounting department. Boring as it might’ve been in hindsight, right then and there, you would’ve given just about anything, including a limb, to be there instead of here as mere passing entertainment for an age-old nightmare lord.

Said nightmare lord leaned forward, still with that annoying smirk, and said, "We are in no rush, my love. The day is not over until I say so.”

When you offered no reply, he stood from his seat and approached your side, extending his hand.

"Come with me."

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you away from the dining hall. Where to, you had no idea, and after several flights of wide, marble stairs you tried to pry your hand away, but he tightened his grip with a warning look in his eyes. Nowhere in the enormous palace did you see anyone else around, making you feel even more alone with him than ever before. After seemingly endless staircases, he pushed open a double door, revealing a massive, extravagant gallery of pristine marble and velvet tapestries. Hand in hand, albeit unwillingly, he led you to probably the largest balcony you’ve ever been, offering the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever seen in your life:

His kingdom in all its glory, basking in the orange-purple glow of the setting sun.

You sighed deeply, closed your eyes and let the glow of the sunset warm you up, pretending you were all alone in a five-star hotel enjoying the nicest vacation you've ever had.

Until you felt a pair of lips kiss your hand and ruined the fantasy.

Morpheus let go of your hand as you open your eyes in favour of wrapping his arms around your midriff from behind. Your back stiffened as he pulled you close to his chest and planted a soft kiss on your hair, just above your earlobe. You heard him hum in satisfaction as his forefinger lazily drew circles on your clothed waist.

“Morpheus, what are you doing…?” you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt him take an audible whiff of your hair.

"One of the many things I had in mind," he whispered.

You shivered at the rather vulnerable position you were in, but it wasn't like you could tear yourself away from his unwanted embrace. He had you trapped, just like the cage he'd be putting you back in if he senses just the slightest resistance from you, so you stood there, rigid as a board. You tried your best to concentrate on the view that lay before you, but it was made even more impossible with the way those lips brushed against your earlobe and then kissed the base of your neck.

“Please…stop…”

Morpheus only hummed in response. He’d been keeping you on your toes the entire day, but what he said next just floored you.

“Come lay with me, my beloved.”

“Wh-what? You mean, sleep with you?” You gathered strength to abruptly pull away from him in utter shock. He’s clearly lost his damn mind. Once free, you put enough distance between you and him and faced him with your cheeks flaring up. “I don't believe this…you can't be serious!”

Unfazed and clearly taking offence at the wide berth, he said, “Do you doubt my love for you? Have I not been clear with my intentions? I wish for you to be my lover. Do lovers not declare their devotion to each other by indulging in each other's flesh?”

“One. Date.” You said pointedly. “That was all we agreed upon. One fucking date!”

“That is why I am asking now. Will you lay with me?”

The audacity of this cosmic being had you reeling inside, close to tearing your hair out in absolute frustration. “This is crazy. I've done everything you've wanted me to do today, but you can't expect me to just go along with that!”

Still incensed, you watch him take a threatening step forward with hands clasped in front of him, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I am giving you a chance to recant your response. After all, I freed you from your enclosure in the condition that you will do as I ask.”

“You're fucking sick, you know that?” You backed away as much as the balcony railing allowed you to. “I'd rather rot in that glass cage than sleep with you. No way.”

Morpheus just scoffed at you, his hands unfurling to his side. “Pride. I once recall being held captive in a prison not unlike yours. I could've been freed much sooner had I not been proud.”

Your eyes slowly widened as you observed fine grains of sand trailing upwards to his curled fingers. You’ve learned to fear his sand over time. It was a source of his immense power, and judging by the way he melted your glass cage that morning into sand with a single wave of his hand, he was more than ready to create another he could put you into. But, amidst the growing terror in you as his power, something else he said caught your attention.

“You, however, are human, and I, an Endless. Would you last a hundred years like I did?” he asked, his eyes flashing silver in contrast with the last dying embers of the sun.

Your captor was once captured for a century. But who would do such a thing to him? Was this why, even as an otherworldly being, he was so messed up and acting like he is?

“You…you were imprisoned,” you said in a hushed tone, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his eyes. “And for that long? Ho-how did you get out? Why would anyone do that? How does that happen to…someone like you? I mean no offence, I’m just…uh…”

“Being compassionate.”

It was the gentlest tone you’ve ever heard from Morpheus since after your rejection of him. Glancing up at him, you were surprised how soft his facial features had become. Despite the circumstance, you were mesmerised by the way his eyes glistened in blue and all the stars it held. His hands relaxed and the sand gradually receded until it faded to nothing. Could you perhaps persuade him to have a change of heart?

“You are concerned for me,” he said. "It is an admirable trait you cannot help but display, even in duress. Your heart is good. All the more reason for me to possess it."  His tone shifted, and in a split second, the galaxies in his eyes vanished, consumed by the pitch-black abyss that could destroy anything in its path. "My human captors paid a hefty price for their transgressions against me. I do not wish the same on you." 

It was then you knew that whatever happened to him in his capture, there was no saving him from it, there was no change possible in him. There was no hope for you.

“I have, not once, ‘transgressed’ against you, and you know it, you fucking cu-”

“And yet, here you are,” he interrupted through gritted teeth, “Refusing me the only thing I have dared to want since your kind has wronged me.”

“Then why would you want anything to do with me, if 'my kind' offends you that much?” you spat back.

He paused at words as if contemplating them. You could tell by the way his expression faltered a little that they had an effect on him. He turned away from you to stare into the skyline, now void of the warm sun you were starting to miss.

“Those who trapped me sought those which do not belong to them. Their actions caused the collapse of the Dreaming.” He eyed you sideways, and continued, “Your actions on that fateful day of our meeting, however, led me to a better understanding of my responsibilities to my realm. Do not associate yourself with their sins.”

It took him only a few steps to finally close the distance between you. He was barely a few inches away from you now, no longer able to hide the look of longing in his eyes. He dipped his head so close to yours you could feel his breath fan your cheeks, and if you leaned any further against the balcony railing, you risked falling over.

“I see you as you are, so pure and selfless, someone who has so little, yet deserves everything she dreams of. I can give you that, and more, my precious little saviour. You need only say the word.”

But you saw him as he was, too: he was a monster; your abductor and tormentor, and you, a mere human, meant to be kept in a cage in this sick game only he knew how to play. You’d never give him the satisfaction.

“No.”

“'No?’ I suggest you reconsider.”

“Alright, give me a moment.” You followed that with a short pause, crossing your arms, then continued, “There, I've thought of it. Still no. Put me back in my cage, lock me up for ten, twenty, fifty, years – hell, make it a hundred so we're even, I’d be dead by then – I don't care. I am not sleeping with you.”

You matched his reproachful and hurt look with an unyielding expression, bracing yourself for the consequences of your words. He withdrew from you with a slight curl of lips, and the sand that had once receded whirled itself around the both of you.

“Have it your way.”

As you closed your eyes, the floor beneath your feet shifted, and you were lifted to your feet momentarily before setting you back down on a cold, uneven surface. When you felt the sand around you disappear, your eyes were greeted by the familiar sight of a spherical glass enclosure. You placed a palm on the clammy surface and moved closer so you could better see where he had brought you.

It was an enormous chamber, more opulent than anything you’ve ever been in the entire day, yet somehow emptier, darker, more foreboding. Right in the middle of the expanse was a massive four-poster bed covered in midnight, silky sheets. In the dark, you could barely make out a symbol carved on the headboard: a helmet of some sort, akin to a gasmask, with an odd spinal vertebrae sticking out at the end of it. This wasn’t the artificial space he had constructed – it was his room. 

He brought you to his room so he could watch you perish.

“Judging by your expression, you already know where you are.”

The ruler of nightmares stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself. He strode with dawdling steps closer to your cage with arms behind his back and stopped only a few inches away from your glass prison.

“You have no idea how displeased I am with your actions today, my little saviour,” he spoke, slowly placing his hand on the glass directly over your palm. “You shall be punished as I see fit. Death will not come for you. You are mine for eternity.”

You shivered, but not from the cold, as he withdrew his hand from the glass and turned around, presumably to leave.

Morpheus turned his head to the side and said with a final tone, “Should you seek my forgiveness, you need only call upon me and say the word.”

The King of Nightmares then left for good, his long cloak billowing behind him, leaving only the resounding bang of the giant double doors as they closed. Left entirely to yourself, you had only one thought as you curled in a ball inside your prison:

You weren’t going to last much longer.

***

The first few days trapped in your sphere inside his room had its ups and downs.

On a positive note, you were no longer floating in artificial space and can now tell between night and day by the light streaming from his tall windows and perpetually open balcony. On the other hand, you now had company night after night, in the form of a nightmare personified, with his eyes glowing in the dark as it focused only on you. Although he’d occasionally leave, presumably to attend to his duties as a king, he always came back, sat on his royal, high-backed chair, and observed you, without a word, in captivity. It was deeply unsettling. Both of you had not spoken since, but there was no need to. 

By your seventh day stuck in your glass cage, you woke up to a different sight: he had taken you to his throne room. The sphere was floating just a few inches from the ground at the foot of the pristine stairs leading to his throne. Your increasingly pale pallor looked terribly out-of-place in a hall surrounded with colourful glass panels that seemed to shift its display of images, plus the enchanted ceiling made to look like the night sky. You looked around to see where he was, but he was absent. He may have gone off to wherever the hell his attention was called for.

But it didn't take long for you to have company. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that one of the massive double doors to the hall had opened. Thankfully, it wasn't him you saw. It was a tall, bald woman with pointy ears, wearing a fine-looking suit taking long strides towards you with an alarmed expression, mouthing something you couldn't hear.

Maybe she could free you!

Getting up and kneeling on the curved glass, you rapped the glass with your knuckles with urgency and for the first time in seven days, you spoke, "Help! Help me, please!"

The woman crouched down to touch the glass and said something, but you couldn't really concentrate on reading lips now, given how stressed you were getting. Was she mute? Maybe she didn't hear you the first time. You shouted, "Please, let me out! Help me!"

But then she motioned to her ears, and then mouthed, slowly this time, so you could read what she was saying through her lips:

'I can't hear you.'

"Lucienne."

Your heart jumped at the suddenness of the Nightmare King's voice booming inside the hall. You could hear him just fine. What the fuck was going on?

"There is no point engaging her in a conversation, Lucienne. She can only hear my voice, and only I can hear her. That is her punishment. I suggest you leave her be the next time you see her."

Morpheus appeared in your line of vision, locking his cold, pitiless eyes on your wide, bewildered ones. Turning to the woman named Lucienne, who got to her feet and bowed slightly to him, he said, "There is a new island that emerged northwest of the Land of Unfinished Inventions. Have someone survey the island and list its inhabitants. I shall be at the library to fetch the report by sundown."

Whatever Lucienne replied was to anybody's guess. With a final bow and a sympathetic look at your direction, she exited the throne room and left you alone with him. He gave you a searing look just before he climbed the stairs to his throne, fluffed his long black coat and settled down on his royal seat. You shot back a reproachful glare before turning your back to him, hugging your knees and completely ignoring him.

Several more of his subjects dropped by that morning, presumably to seek his counsel. A raven even tried to peck on your glass cage, but Morpheus, who called the raven Matthew, basically told him to ignore you, then sent him away. He spoke to all them with an authoritative tone, but by then you had learned how to block him out so you never really understood the conversations. Anyone who approached his throne had a clear view of you, displayed like a prize won from the spoils of war. Everyone ogled at you, some even gave looks of pity, but there wasn’t anything they could’ve done in the presence of their ruler. You had never been so embarrassed in your life, but you tried ignoring these looks as best you can, seeing as your captor had planned this so he could break you and force you to do his bidding. By midday, the slew of Dreaming subjects seeking their king’s presence had waned, and once again, you were left alone with him in total silence.

He broke the silence blanketing the throne room by calling your name. You heard it loud and clear, but his call was completely and deliberately ignored. He decided to call your name once more, this time with a tone of slight warning.

You gingerly sat up to see him standing before your cage, his hands behind his back and looking down at you with a disapproving look.

“Shall I take your voice away, as well, seeing as you refuse to use it in my presence?”

“Go to hell,” you replied flatly as you met his stare head on. It was getting exhausting, trying to put on a brave face, especially after he just threatened to take away your ability to speak, but you did so anyway.

“I have been there, my beloved,” he said with a slightly amused tone. “That does not insult me.”

Great, why couldn’t he have just stayed there?

“Frankly, I don’t care where you’ve been.”

His smirk only grew wider, and he started circling your cage at a leisurely pace. "Oh, but you'd care where I am going."

Why would I, you thought to yourself, and you couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow.

"I will be at the library."

Part of you knew he was baiting you, but at that point, it couldn't hurt hearing him out, would it? Truth be told, you were dying for anything to do. Anything.

So you asked, "You have a library?" You recognized the flash of victory on his face.

"I do," he replied, crouching down on his knees to better look at you. "It contains everything humanity has ever written, including those that it has yet to finish. There is none like it across all the realms in the universe."

A library. The last time you had been to a library was about three months ago (if your calculation of your time spent in his realm was correct) and it was because of work. You hadn't had a time to even enjoy the place, and given that it'll be a long time before you even go back there (if he'd even let you), you now regretted not checking out a few books you had meant to borrow.

"I am aware you are partial to Mary Wollstonecraft. There is but one novel of hers she left unfinished when she passed."

Of course. The Wrongs of Woman.

"It lies in my library, completed, and it awaits you," he goaded on with that infuriatingly smug expression. "You only have to say the word."

As tempting as it was, you knew that by agreeing with his proposal, you would be giving away any remaining dignity you had left. Between a book and your autonomy, it was an easy choice. You withdrew as far back as you could in your cage and shook your head once.

"I can't."

Morpheus seemed genuinely taken aback by your resistance. "You would keep yourself from reading your favourite author's work in favour of refusing me?" He asked incredulously.

"I don't want it," you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. "Just leave me alone. Please."

Your captor clenched his jaw and fists and said nothing, but guessing from how his knuckles turned white, he was furious. You couldn't care less if he was, though. Maybe you'd make him angry enough to kill you instead – that way, you wouldn't have to put up with all this anymore.

You hugged your knees, buried your face in them, and finally started to cry.

***

It stung. Your words actually felt like a whiplash to Morpheus's heart. He was seething, true, but everyday without you in his arms wounded him further, it was getting more strenuous for him to reel in his frustration without further taking it out on you. Your heart was farther out of reach than ever before, and nothing he could offer you seemed to work.

And then, he heard you sob, just as he was leaving to blow off steam and attend to his kingdom. It pained him to leave you in such a broken state, but you left him no choice. He had to keep you there until you saw your error. He knew the moment you said the words, he would take you in his arms and give you all the stars in the universe, should you ask him.

But even when he had finished all the work he had intended to do, even when he had already obtained the report he had asked Lucienne to make, that piteous weep plagued his mind. In all the days he's had you inside your glass enclosure, he had never heard you cry like so. He was always aware of your inner strength – your display of backbone in your imprisonment was nothing short of admirable. But you were wasting away the longer you resisted him, and he could not have that.

Despite all these conflicting emotions stirring up a storm inside him, what he desperately needed was to just spend precious time with you, to feel your soft touch, and to have you fall asleep in his arms as he read you poetry from a long-forgotten era…

The last thought brought forth a rather inspiring notion. He had distractedly drifted to the bookshelf that held the book he had taunted you with that morning. He hated having to deprive you of reading the book he thought you'd adore, but perhaps he could make a compromise.

He pulled the book out of the shelf without wasting time, and willed himself inside your cramped glass cage. You were asleep, it seemed, as far back as you could, with your head resting uncomfortably on the glass. There was not much space so he had to be careful and sat with his legs crossed. As he did, however, you had chosen to shift in your sleep and your hand had hit his leg lightly, stirring you awake. Even with your tear-stained cheeks, he found it adorable how you blearily rubbed your eyes to better focus on what exactly you had accidentally touched.

The sun had long since set, so Morpheus used his sand to transport the entire glass enclosure to his bedroom. This was an intimate moment he felt should remain away from prying eyes. Once the sand had cleared, he softly said your name out loud. His voice instantly jolted you alert, your eyes growing wide, and he knew that if you had room you would get as far away from him as you could. He was quite thankful he had created such a constricted space.

"What are you doing here?" You asked. Your voice sounded strained, probably from crying, and your eyes were red and puffy. He hated how you looked so forlorn, he had to stop himself from taking you in his arms, whisking you to his bed and kissing all your troubles away. He had to remind himself that there would be a time for that once you had ultimately, utterly surrendered to him. He had to concentrate, not on your supple, slightly trembling lips, but on what he truly came here for.

"I have in my hand the book I have told you about." He held the book up so you could better see it and know he was not trying to trick you. He saw your eyes light up momentarily at the sight of the tome, and that delighted him immensely. It had been a while since he had seen your light. He needed more of it.

"I would like to read it to you."

Your innocently confused expression was nothing but endearing. "I can just read it myself," you said.

"And you shall – once you have accepted my terms. Until then, you will have to get used to my story-telling," he countered, slightly teasing you. Morpheus had been told many times how alluring his voice was. Perhaps it would have the same effect on you. You seemed to weigh your options and tried detecting deception from him. He was starting to lose hope that you didn't want him with you, so he was relieved when you finally nodded.

Morpheus had almost forgotten how to smile after your refusal at his balcony, but the one he showed you was genuine, nonetheless.

You were quiet the entire time he read from the book, but the way you were so focused on him and hung onto every word made his heart flutter. He was halfway through one chapter when you started to shift just a little bit closer to him, your head leaning on the glass as you took to his storytelling. Just as he reached the end of the chapter, your eyes were already trying to stave off sleep and your head was falling to the side, but the limited space in the glass sphere he already occupied prevented you from laying down.

Momentarily pausing his reading, he said, "You can rest your head here, if you'd like." He tapped his thigh lightly, urging you to use it as a pillow. He knew how uncomfortable it was to lie on cold glass, and you had not slept on a proper bed since your arrival to his realm. If he had his way, he lamented, he'd have you in his arms and on his bed, the both of you stripped of all your clothing, yet draped in the most luxurious silk sheets his kingdom could offer. He hoped you would accept his invitation of resting on his lap just so he could have your bodies touch again, to feel your warmth, to be connected with you in any way once more. To his absolute delight, you did, and he happily continued to read from the book until he heard your deep, rhythmic breathing.

You had fallen asleep on his lap.

It was nothing compared to the kiss he had shared with you in your home, of course, but it was enough for Morpheus to cry a small victory: you had trusted him enough to fall asleep with him, on him, in his presence. He smiled to himself, sighing minutely, as his fingers traced your exposed cheek with a longing even he could not describe. He hardly dared move in fear of waking you up and you recoiling at your closeness, so he found contentment in stroking your hair with all the gentleness he could muster.

There, in the glass amidst the stillness provided by your hushed breathing, he resolved to be more patient: if this was how being with you made him feel, then it would be worth the wait.

***

The sun was streaming through your eyelids when you came to, but you didn't want to wake up just yet. You just had the best, albeit dreamless, sleep you've ever had in a long while, owing to that pillow your head had been resting on. You were hoping you'd be able to squeeze in five more minutes, until it struck you:

You never had a pillow in your glass prison.

Your eyes immediately shot open, greeted by a multitude of swirling galaxies that seem to float in deep blue waters. You just slept on the lap of Dream of the Endless, him and that soft, radiant smile and those long, fluttering eyelashes. You knew that stare perfectly well even when you haven't been at the receiving end of until now: it was the gaze of a lover.

He was anything but.

"Good morning, my precious little saviour."

You sat up at once, trying to assure yourself you couldn't have slept anywhere else due to the limited amount of space in the glass cage. Nevertheless, you automatically muttered an apology under your breath for falling asleep on him.

"My love, there is nothing to apologise for," he said gently as he watched you pull your legs close to your chest. "It must have caused you great discomfort to have been sleeping on such an unfriendly surface for so long."

And whose fault is that? You thought wryly. Your eyes landed on the book he had propped against the glass. The book he had been reading to you just before you fell asleep. This didn't escape his ever-observant eyes.

"Should you like to continue where we left off, I am willing to relinquish the book…release you from this glass sphere, let you peruse other books in my library..."

He picked up the book and waved it lightly in front of him.

"For a price, of course."

Ah, there it was. He wouldn't be offering you anything for free at this stage, Hell would freeze over first (which is apparently a place that actually exists). He drew closer to you, his hands leaning against the glass on both your sides to trap you.

"Kiss me, my beloved," he whispered. Thankfully you still had your knees to your chest or your noses would've already touched. His heavy gaze focused on nothing but your lips, he continued, "Grant me a kiss, and I shall allow you unfettered access to a library like no other."

You calculated your options. While you were grateful he hadn't asked you to sleep with him, a kiss was still a form of contact with a being keeping you against your will you'd much rather have nothing at all to do with. Still, you couldn't help but look at his slightly parted lips, and a memory of you kissing them in your home surfaced. Had it really been that long ago? It wasn't bad, if you tried being objective. Plus, you'd finally have something to do outside your sphere. It's just a kiss, nothing more.

You gave him a single nod.

Delight washed over your captor's features as he touched your knees lightly, urging you to lower them and allow him to get closer. You could feel your skin tingling where he touched them, but that was soon forgotten the moment you shifted to a more relaxed pose. Without an ounce of hesitation, he cupped your face and pressed his lips on yours.

Reluctant as you were, he didn't seem to mind, for he gripped the back of your neck and changed his angle, his tongue prying your mouth open. Within seconds, his tongue danced with yours, and you were struggling to keep up. His other hand gripped your waist and pulled you closer to him as he bit your lower lip gently, and the surprised gasp you let out only made him deepen the kiss. An eternity seemed to pass before his lips withdrew from yours, but to your horror, he started caressing your jaw, dipping lower into your neck and suckling your skin. You placed a hand on his chest and tapped.

Breathless, you said, "Don't…please, you said it was just a kiss – "

You felt a rumble from his chest, and he harshly yanked your wrist away, effectively cutting off any complaint you had.

"The kiss will be over when I say so," he growled against your ear, before nipping on your earlobe and planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck once more.

Dear heavens, his mouth scorched your skin, and you knew the way he sucked on it would leave bruises. You wanted to break free from his death grip and scream, but you took his thumb placed on your pulse point as a warning, so instead you gripped his coat and closed your eyes tight with a whimper. You felt his teeth scrape your collarbone before he pulled the neckline of your dress so he could bite down on your shoulder.

Just as you were about to cry, Dream pulled away, gave you one last peck on the lips, and nudged your chin a little. When you opened your eyes at last, you found yourself sitting on the floor of his room and the glass you had been encased in nowhere in sight. He helped you to your feet with his arm still around your body.

"I will have an attendant help you with your preparations," he said as he let go. "You will meet me at the dining hall."

The kiss he left you with on your forehead did not help your shaking and the shame you felt at what you just did for this little bit of freedom.

***

Morpheus said you needed to meet him in the dining hall, which meant fuck-all because you had absolutely no clue where it was. His palace was an elaborate maze of rooms and galleries, hallways and staircases, and the occasional dreamer wandering around, lost just like you were. You tried asking one of them where it was, but the response you got didn't make sense at all (to them it probably did, as dreams often were; when they wake up from it, not so much).

A loud crash and a string of curses interrupted your musing, so you followed the sound, and after two right turns and a left, you found a woman at the end of the hallway kneeling on the floor, fussing over a broken dish and the spilled contents it once held. You were on her side at once, picking up the broken ceramic as carefully as you could.

"Oh, this is so embarrassing," the woman whined, fishing out a cloth to wipe the mess off the floor as best she could. "I'm sorry you had to see this, I'm not normally this clumsy…"

"It's okay, I'm happy to help," you brushed her off as you began picking up the smaller bits and piling them on a corner. "Besides, I'm kind of lost, maybe after we clear this up, you can help me find the way to the dining hall?"

You looked at her expectantly, but she had already paused at cleaning the mess in favour of ogling at you.

"I know you, " She exclaimed. "You're the girl he put in the glass cage!"

Distracted by her reaction, you let out a soft, pained gasp; a tiny piece of the ceramic had pricked your finger.

"If you don't mind my asking, are you alright?" The woman asked hesitantly with a concerned expression.

You nodded. "It's just a nick, I'll be fine."

"No, I don't mean your finger, dear," she whispered as she drew closer to you. "How did you end up on his bad side?"

"Oh." The question had taken you aback, but you weren't sure how to respond. Maybe if she knew the truth, she could help? "I didn't –"

A firm call for your name made you freeze midspeech. It was Dream, striding purposefully to where you were. It was clear with his expression that he wasn't happy.

"You were to meet me at the dining hall. What kept you?" he questioned as soon as he reached you.

"I got lost," you defended as you got up to your feet. Not wanting to upset him any further, you tried to hide your bleeding finger behind your back, but it was too late; he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his view. If he was unhappy then, he became furious in an instant.

"What have you done to yourself?" He asked through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening, his eyes blazing and demanding answers.

Your heart was beating wildly as you tried to explain, "N-nothing, it-it was just – "

"My Lord, if I may."

The woman you just met interrupted and stood calmly even under the scrutiny of her ill-tempered king. That took courage, which you found yourself being drained of every single day with him.

"I tripped over myself and made a mess of this dish I was supposed to bring to the dining hall," she began. "The good lady, seeing my distress, temporarily abandoned her search for her destination and only tried to assist me, injuring herself in the process."

Morpheus turned to you, his features softening a little. "Is this true, my beloved?"

All you could do was give him a shaky nod. You felt relieved when his anger visibly dissipated and his grip on you softened, his expression turning apologetic. Without looking at the woman, he ordered her to fetch someone named Mervyn to clean the spill on the floor, to which she simply bowed and left.

"Then, there is no excuse for my harshness," he said, before bringing your injured finger to his lips. The cut healed itself in a matter of seconds, much to your astonishment. "I should be grateful that you were willing to put yourself in harm's way to help my palace staff."

He went further by placing your palm on his cheek and then kissing it, his stare darkening as he did. You fought that nagging urge to yank your hand away, fearing that his anger might resurface.

"I could not have chosen better."

You averted that increasingly heated gaze of his, but it was too late to avoid the other thing you had been dreading: he pulled you by the hand to him for a kiss on your lips.

Dream pinned you in place with a firm grip on your waist and another behind your back, which then travelled to the back of your neck. Struggling was futile, so you did your best to hold it all in as he suckled your lower lip and drew in all your gasps, leaving you close to suffocating, just like the way he spirited you away. With every motion you allowed his tongue on your mouth, he syphoned away whatever self-respect you had left.

Will he leave you with anything?

It didn't take long before a sob began to form at the back of your throat. Perhaps he heard it, or felt it, for he let go with much reluctance. Instead, he settled with bringing your foreheads together while you composed yourself. It wouldn't do you much good if you suddenly lost your mind right in front of him, right?

"Have I told you how much I am in awe of your beauty, my love?" He whispered against your lips. "You prove to me time and again that your heart is just as beautiful, if not more so."

You offered no words while he stroked your cheek with his forefinger and he placed his lips over your ear.

"As such, I will prove to you just how much it belongs to me."

He will take everything from you, even after you have nothing left. *****************************

Part III here!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that. it's really appreciated :)

Part 3 out now will contain smutSMUTSMUT---

[ei-banana]

Pairing: Elise/Lebkuchen (sfw)

Word count: 968

———

She met Lebkuchen by the bakery—beneath the elder tree, weatherbeaten bough groaning with the swing’s gentle sway. “You’re late,” she said, almost melodic, smile stretching wider when Elise frowned deep enough to dimple her chin.

“Yes, well…” Elise trifled with the ends of her stained apron, desperate to instill some semblance of togetherness. “You can blame Mrs. Linda for that.” She combed her fingers through the knotted mess of her hair, wincing when she found an errant twig or two.

Dust and grime coated her like a second skin, a rather uncouth reminder of each daily setback. What she wouldn’t give for seclusion and a steaming bath—a porcelain basin wide enough for two, scented oils, a warmth unfettered she could sink deeper into—but her hopeful fantasy was simply that. Fanciful.

Elise gave in to her rumpled appearance with a huff, snapping to attention when she spied Lebkuchen’s pensive look. Her lips had flattened with worry; her eyes unnervingly vast.

“What?” Elise was tetchy with nerves all at once, shifting under that knowing glare.

“I suppose you still won’t tell me what’s got you so resolute?”

The question struck Elise like a tangible blow, though gentle—Lebkuchen was always so gentle.

There were things she wished to tell her, some fated future she wished to manifest, but standing before her now, Elise could hardly find the right words. She raised her chin, meager defiance a much simpler recourse. “I suppose not.”

And, oh, the way Lebkuchen sighed at such rudimentary evasion… Elise felt her knees grow weak. The way she gracefully swallowed her lies, often enough to shape her tongue around their familiar sound; The way she proffered her silent absolution like some saintly gospel, ghosting her fingers over Elise’s lips like she too wanted for something much grander.

Instead, she dropped her hand to Elise’s collar, correcting the awkward fall of fabric. “You’re overextending yourself.”

“You’re one to talk,” Elise grumbled, cheeks flushing scarlet when Lebkuchen leaned forward to polish the scuffed round of her emerald brooch.

They had favored this song and dance many times, though Elise would never grow tired of it, altogether dazed at Lebkuchen’s affectionate laughter. She conceded this one, binding truth with the bow of her head, her veil obscuring the amber glint of her eyes just enough for Elise to grow mournful.

“I suppose you’re right,” Lebkuchen said, smoothing out her pleated skirts before digging her heels into the dirt. The swing came to a stop, and without its repetitive creak, the quiet buzzed with grating clarity. “Why don’t we make a run for the hills then?”

Her next, whispered evocation would have been missable had Lebkuchen not looked up, a visage more enchanting than the woodland’s barbed promise. This was a novel facet of their nightly routine—Lebkuchen’s eyes had never flashed quite so greedily, her stately personage crumbling swiftly under the weight of that damnable habit.

The tiredness from earlier took on a new form then—desperation was fickle, and it edged like the tide, though Lebkuchen looked ready to jump headlong beneath the waves. Her subtle brow raise beckoned Elise to follow after, just as brash.

It was a tempting incitement, Elise would admit, bowling over completely at the next twitch of Lebkuchen’s lips. She wrapped her fingers around the swing’s fraying ropes just to catch herself, a withered breath falling past her teeth when she pressed her forehead to Lebkuchen’s own.

“Since when did you become so brazen?” Elise fought not the shake of her voice, shivering with the next chilled breeze.

There was silence, at first, the rustle of arid leaves before Lebkuchen settled her hands over Elise’s shoulders. “I thought about that future you mentioned, the one where you and I leave this wretched place together.” She tightened her grip, nails cutting through every last layer of fabric. Elise winced—enlivened. “I’ve thought about it so much that I hardly remember my daily scripture.”

“And to think you fancy yourself a woman of the cloth.” The attempted jibe fell flat with her affected shuffling; she twisted the ropes in hand until her palms felt raw and bloodied, shifting nearer still.

“I have my duties, Elise,” Lebkuchen drifted her fingers over the upper notches of Elise’s spine, lips flush with the apple of her cheek, “but I’m certainly no saint.”

What a tremendous power Lebkuchen must have had, for she rendered Elise unable to speak with no more than a single utterance. She laughed again, inveigling and sweet, demeanor shifting from melancholic to spry so quickly that Elise feared she might topple to the dust below.

“You…” Lebkuchen leaned back, head cocked like an innocent; Elise swallowed, straightening to dust off her hands, voice remarkably small. “You would leave the church for me?”

“I can be selfish too, you know.” Lebkuchen said, lashes fluttering. At that, she hopped down from the wooden swing, paying little mind to Elise’s agog fascination when she stooped low to gather an obscured basket from astride the tree’s risen roots. “They’ve gone cold by now, but I want you well-fed before the festival’s apogee.”

Elise reached for the basket’s handle with sluggish fingers, pulling back its checkered cloth covering to reveal the baked benison within—bread, a wealth of it; a little stale around the edges, but a welcome offering all the same.

She blinked, forgotten hunger now gnawing with a vengeance. “Leb…”

“Think about what I said, alright?” Lebkuchen cupped her cheek, eyes flitting about her face for a moment—appraising, memorizing something Elise couldn’t quite name—before she pivoted for the cloaking shadows.

She kicked up a small tempest of dust in her wake, the frilled hem of her skirt swishing just above her ankles. Elise watched her leave, staring after that glint of royal blue until she stood alone in the cradle of St. Walpurga’s sound.

[allzelemonz]

His Boy, Part 7: Ten

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/Language, dub-con mentions Warnings: Mentions of dub-con, possessive behavior, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea and Dutch/Susan Summary: Dutch comes to see you again.

You’ve had the chance to rest your back against something for a while, settle your bones that are getting too strained from imprisonment. Feeling the need to stretch your legs, you walk in circles for a bit. Boredom is worse at this point. This time the door opens with the light of a lantern, enveloping Dutch in its glow as he enters and closes the door. You stay where you are, leaning against the back wall and watching your former partner as he sets the lantern down.

“Hosea…” He says, sitting down on a stool. “Is quite upset with me.”

“That’s not exactly new, Dutch.”

“He is under the impression that our encounter had a lack of consent.”

“It did.”

He sighs and you can’t see his face in the low light but you would bet that he looks annoyed. “Didn’t feel that way, my dear.”

“I asked you to stop, you didn’t stop.”

“Did you really want me to?”

You scoff. “Besides the point.”

He chuckles. “I’ll ask then… May I fuck you senseless, my dear?”

“No.”

“We both know you don’t want to be Colm’s whore-”

“I’m not.” You laugh. “He asks, he stops, he treats me much better than you ever did.”

He stands. “I find that quite hard to believe.”

You cross your arms, both in apprehension and as a bit of a comfort from Dutch’s darkened figure that shoots a bit of fear into you. “Why do you want me back so bad, Dutch? Can’t find some poor young thing to twist around your finger?”

“I loved you for ten years.” He says your name so gently it almost takes you back to when you cared. “Can I not love you again?”

“Have the whores in town grown too old for you, Dutch?” You snap. “I’ll bet you’ve already struck out with Hosea and Susan if you’re this deep into your silver tongue delusions.”

He sighs. “You have truly changed, my boy.”

“I see you for what you are.”

For a moment he doesn’t move and all you can hear is the breathing of you both in the dark. Then, before you can register the shadow move, Dutch is on you. He presses you hard against the wall, your head hitting it from the unexpected push.

“And that is a damn shame.” He whispers against your ear. “Colm really has gotten to you, here I was hoping I could be gentle.”

You groan as your head pulses in pain. “You know something, Dutch?”

“What, boy?”

“Colm didn’t even fuck me for months, he treated me all sweet and soft. You never did that.”

“I was plenty sweet.”

“You acted sweet, you never meant it.” You grunt as you struggle against him. “This is plenty proof.”

Again, he stills and goes quiet. His hands keep their pressure and this time you can feel the breathing as well as hear it. Dutch’s mind is a wonder and you would give anything to not have to deal with it anymore. Colm is so much simpler. He’s a plotter, sure, but he tells you things. He likes to hold you close at night and whisper about the jobs he’s planning after he’s run out of praises and sweet things to say or take a ride with you to ask your opinion. You’re a lieutenant if not an equal instead of an unutilized gun that wastes away in a fancy tent.

“You want me back, Dutch?” You sigh. “Act like there’s something more than fucking between us, like you’ll bend before you break.”

His hands drop to your hips and his head droops to rest on your chest. “Tell me what to do, my dear.”

“Apologize.”

His hands tighten a bit and you can tell he’s annoyed. “For what?”

“Just say you’re sorry without lying for once.”

Again, he pauses and you don’t want to imagine the philosophies swimming around in his mind as he decides if he should. “I…” He brings his head up to look at you. “I am sorry.”

You don’t believe him but you let it pass.

“Why did you go after whores while we were together?”

His hands loosen on your hips as they run up and down in short, slow strokes. “I suppose I was afraid.”

“Bullshit, Dutch.”

His hands grip tight again and he looks up. “You’re the one that said you were bored.”

“I was trying to get a rise out of you, Dutch.”

He chuckles a bit. “It worked.”

“The whores, Dutch.” You sigh. “I was right there. You could’ve asked me to do anything and I would have done it.”

“And now?” He asks, his thumbs stroking at your stomach.

“Now I am willing to be civil, willing to get Colm to be civil, but I’m not so blinded by your beauty anymore to take anything you say as truth.”

He sighs. “You think so lowly of me?”

The sound of a gunshot makes you both duck.

[lyrabythelake]

I love your Lost Prince AU so much!! Do you have any snippets to share? :)

Hi Anon! I'm so glad you like my Lost Prince AU!! I'm afraid I haven't had nearly enough time or motivation to write much over the past few months and that AU seems to be fading into the background. I might get back to it one day but I wouldn't get your hopes up. Instead have an extra long snippet from the next chapter of A Dark Horizon that's been sitting in my drafts for a million years. I hope it does a little to make up for it!

He ran his fingers over it curiously to find that it was, in fact, made of real animal fur, and on further inspection a pelt of some kind, not unlike those some Ordonians wore. Usually, they were made from rabbit fur, or, less commonly… from wolf fur. Twilight pulled his hand back suddenly as if struck by static. He recognised it now, could smell it in the air, a scent that should not have been as familiar as it was.  Did someone see him last night? Had they somehow connected the dots? His heart pounded as he ran through what that meant, how the people of his village would hunt down wolves and wear their skins like trophies. He had worked himself into quite a panic before he saw the letter, a small piece of parchment gilded with the royal crest and folded once over. It held merely two short sentences, a piteous number of words considering the embellishments surrounding it. A gift from your brother. Beware the Crystal - Time Twilight’s first thought was relief. The pelt was from King Time, ill-thought out as he believed it was–-was it a joke? It seemed a little insensitive given last night’s harrowing experiences–-it meant there wasn’t some unknown stranger somewhere who knew his secret. His second thought was that Time had called him his ‘brother.’ Realistically he knew it was a fact, a strange one that he still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around, but to have it written on paper, for the king to truly see him in that way to an extent to sign his name as such, a small village rancher who would otherwise had lived and died in Ordon, was still baffling to him. He had never had a big brother and had always taken on that role with Colin and the other children in the village, but the idea of having someone be that for him was not a bad one.  His third thought brought a dry sort of smirk to his face. What would it mean, truly, to wear this pelt in public? It would be a statement in many ways–a statement of fashion, for wolf pelts were most certainly not in line with Hyrule’s eclectic, but distinguished, style; a statement of personality, for to wear this would be truly embracing his agricultural roots and would set himself apart from his brothers in a way the aristocrats of Hyrule wouldn’t be able to deny. Lastly, of course, and it was this thought that brought the smile to his face, it would be blaring last night's events in plain view. To Twilight, and his rather unusual sense of humour, it was an entertaining idea. So it was that he adorned his usual green tunic, the clasps altered to suit his simpler acclimations, and fit the pelt over the top. It was thick and bulky, and there was no denying it would make him noticeable, a prospect he had tried his best to avoid up until this point. It was not often that Twilight look at himself in mirrors; he had never been one to care particularly about the way he looked (something that prompted Ilia to tell him begrudgingly once, “you don’t care because you don’t have to. You manage to look good with your face smeared with goat dung; some of us have to actually try,” to which he blushed fiercely and hastily changed the subject), but he looked at himself now in the large, ornately framed looking-glass on his wall. The pelt gained him a sort of barbarian-esque look, and as he turned to look over his shoulder, he found that he liked it. He had tried so hard thus far to fit in, to mirror Castle Town’s expectations of how a prince ought to look, that he quite fancied this new, powerful, and considerably un-princely, style. Besides, the hood would keep him warm this Winter.

[glazesunflower]

Them Celebrating Your Birthday

Characters: Lumine and Ei (separate).

Warnings: None, just birthday fluff!

Notes: Just a little thing for a nice anon’s birthday!

She would be very excited for you. It’s been a long time since she’s had a birthday celebration, and yours calls for a big one.

She would wait until it’s 00:00 to be the very first person to say, Happy birthday! to you. And she would be very proud of it, she’d go around the next day letting everybody know that yes, I was the first one to congratulate her.

She and Paimon would bake a cake for you. They’ve traveled long enough to know several cake recipes, but the tougher challenge they encounter is actually deciding which one you would like the best. They settle for one that’s sweet and with a lot of layers and cookies, because Paimon insisted that having a layer of cookies was very important when it comes to birthday cakes.

She would send invitations to all your friends and all of her friends because she wants the celebration to be as big as it can be. She wants all the attention on you for once, you getting the appreciation you deserve!

If you ask her not to go overboard though, she’d settle for a simpler celebration. If you’re more comfortable with only her, Paimon and a few of your closer loved ones, that’d be fine with Lumine. But she would still find a way for all of them to show their appreciation to you.

She would hesitate a lot about what to give to you as a present. You’ve accompanied her on her travels lately, and she’s already told you pretty much all of her best stories, so she doesn’t quite know how to surprise you, when you’ve been with her through the good days and the bad ones.

Maybe that’s exactly what the present should be, Lumine finally sets on a very personal gift: a scrapbook of all your adventures together. There’s pictures of the two of you and Paimon doing all sorts of things, from challenges you’ve faced to relaxing days around the streets of the beautiful cities you’ve encountered.

Lumine treasures you on your birthday and she showers you with affection, but you know that she treasures you just as much on ordinary days as well.

She’s happy to spend your birthday with you, however way you want it to be, and she’s already excited for all your next birthdays to come by her side.

She’s pretty oblivious to the concept of birthdays, being an Archon that has lived for far longer than she dares to say, so you have to remind her through the week that this day is your birthday and you want to celebrate it together with her.

Ei makes a mental note to not forget this special day, not because birthdays mean anything for her, but because they mean something special to you. And you are special to her, so she wants to make this day one worth remembering.

Ei doesn’t really need sleep, so she’s pretty much awake and ready when the clock hits 00:00, and she’s the first one to say, Happy birthday to you, with a small smile blooming on her lips, and you already feel excited for the day to come.

Ei has been out of the loop for at least 500 years, so she feels extremely lucky when Miko jumps in to help her with the preparations.

Ei actually wants for your birthday to be a national holiday, but Miko advises that it might be too much, so the two of them settle into celebrating a small festival in your name.

There’s tasty food, bright colors all around, fancy decoration, lively music and gorgeous fireworks at the end of the day. You spend the day walking around the streets of Inazuma with Ei closely by your side, tasting food together, talking about everything and nothing all at once, and laughing a lot.

Ei absolutely cannot cook, so you didn’t expect there to be a birthday cake, but Ei had insisted she wanted to make something special for you, so she asked Miko to help her bake the cake. Though it was mostly Miko baking it for you and Ei licking the spoon when Miko wasn’t looking.

Make a wish, Ei smiles at you and everyone at the festival holds their breath as you blow out the candles, and then the music and the cheers start again.

The passing of the time has little relevance to Ei. In the past, it was something that troubled her immensely, it being the opposite of the stasis of eternity she was striving to achieve.

But now, with you by her side and a warm feeling spreading down her veins, Ei thinks that celebrating your birthday might be one of her new favorite things to do. And she can’t wait for next year to be by your side on sucha  special day again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @highoctanegem, @realmackross TIME: A week or so after the Barbie Nightmare Sleepover SUMMARY: Mack has food delivered to her house only to meet her mortal enemy, Jade, instead. WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw (for the mess not cleaned up from the sleepover); infidelity tw (implied by Jade)

Jade was still new to the whole food delivery business. It had been a no-brainer as soon as she came to town, a quick way to earn some money while having the time and freedom at her disposal to dedicate to the completion of her actual mission. (Blegh). But it was kinda cool, cause all this traveling was helping her get to know Wicked’s Rest a little better. Today’s order, for example, was sending her to a place in town she had yet to explore: World End’s Isle. 

As new as she was to her job, Jade was positive she would never ever see a house like the one she was approaching again. Whew. It was like, an actual mansion. Like some business or real estate mogul was shacked up inside, freshly off their third divorce, but ready and looking for wife number 4 to dot on.

And Jade was so, so willing to step up and take them off the market. So even before she reached the gates, she made it her mission to score an invitation to go inside. No matter what. She would flirt a little (a lot), flatter whoever she needed, and see where that got her. 

It turned out to be way simpler than she expected. 

Jade had predicted guards at the entrance, an assistant to pick up the food and go, something like that. Rich people things. Not that it would have stopped her, of course. She would’ve twirled her hair, bat her eyelashes, and it would’ve been fine. None of those scenarios materialized. Instead, everything was managed remotely. She couldn’t complain, it made everything super easy.

She parked outside and removed her helmet, fixing her curls with one hand before extracting the package from the delivery box. The gates opened just as she was strutting towards them. She grinned excitedly, feeling super important. Oh, they must’ve had cameras around. Duh. Jade slipped inside without a second thought, making the short walk to the main door. 

Jade stood there, glancing down at her phone for some final details (she didn’t wanna mess up another order), taking a quick picture of it, then rapped her knuckles against the big fancy door. Would anyone inside that big house hear her? She decided to push the doorbell button too, just in case. “Hi! I have your UberEats? It’s… for” she reached for the bottom of the bag, reading the name scribbled on it. “Mackenzie?”

—

Since the sleepover incident, Mackenzie had quit showing her face around town. It was just easier to go off and do her own thing alone without the possibility of being questioned by so many people. And to make matters worse the paranoia that someone from the failed gettogether would leak that she was a zombie had been ingraining itself down into her brain a little deeper with each passing day. It’s why keeping up appearances was everything and that included a useless food order from UberEats.

Hearing the doorbell,  Mack checked the Ring camera on her phone to make sure it wasn’t anyone she knew. The person didn’t look familiar to her, so she assumed it was safe. Pushing the talk button on the app, she spoke, “Uh, yeah. That’s me. I’ll be right there.” Despite not wanting to do much of anything, she did still manage to keep the smell of death and decay at bay. If she wanted to appear human, she knew she had to no matter how hard it might have been to even want to get up out of bed.

Mackenzie walked to the door and took a moment to gather herself. If it was one thing she was good at, it was putting on a show. She had been doing it for most of her life. Opening the door, the twenty-five year old had a smile on her face, “Hey, come on inside.” She turned around and walked back somewhat into the entrance of the house still decorated in pink from the Barbie Nightmare Sleepover that had taken place over a week ago, “Sorry about the place. Had a few friends over, and it got a little out of hand.”

—

Jade’s mouth dropped at the first glimpse of what waited for her inside. The explosion of pink momentarily diverted the attention from the woman in front of her. “Woah, it’s like Barbie threw up in here!” she chuckled, looking up in awe. She’d never been too much of a pink girl, but she had to admit this whole Barbie renaissance had her rethinking all that. Barbie could totally be a vampire slayer, couldn’t she?

She didn’t think twice when the invitation came and she strolled inside, the paper bag with Mackenzie’s order safely tucked in her arms. (Did the woman not care about her order? Usually people were like vultures when it came to picking up an order) (In fact, she loved snapping the most unflattering pic possible of that moment). When Jade finally got a good look at the woman, intending to ask where to leave the order, something clicked. Oh. Shoot. She’d seen her before. A lot, actually. A few Instagram filters give or take, and that woman looked identical to the girl Brody dumped her for. (She was mature enough now to admit it had been a bit of an obsession at the time) (A tiny one, totes. But enough to know she wasn’t mistaking her for someone else). 

Mackenzie…yup. That tracked. Wasn't she an aspiring actress or something? She had been the last time Jade stalked her, at least. So why would she leave sunny L.A for this dumpster town? That she had to know. Was Brody still in the picture? Jade was way too nosy not to get to the end of that mystery. 

And her failed fling wouldn’t stand in the way of getting a tour of the manor, either. Nope. Jade could be a big girl about it. In spirit. Physically, not so much. She hadn’t thought about the guy in years, anyway. “This looks amazing. I mean, all kinds of messy and dirty but… you know what I mean” she dared stepping further inside, eyes flicking everywhere. “If it’s not like…totally annoying and imposing, I’d love a little tour of the place. You must love to show it off, right?” she flashed a dazzling grin. Go for the ego, that’s right.

—

The delivery driver did have a point. It did look like a hot pink mess. One that was a stark reminder of everything that had happened. And also everything that Mackenzie had wanted to forget. She was going to have to clean it up soon. Her house couldn’t stay decked out in pink forever, especially considering all the negative connotations it held now. And if anyone from the sleepover had decided to visit, what would they have thought? “Yeah, sorry about that. Just haven’t had the energy to clean. You know how those ragers can be.” It was a bullshit excuse, but whatever. Mackenzie wasn’t feeling today or any day for that matter, at the moment.

“So, uh, how much of a tip do I owe you?” Everything that had happened was distracting her from the driver and even from the picture she had taken for the app. Instead, the zombie padded back towards the kitchen to put her now acquired food on the counter and grab her phone, so she could pull the UberEats app back up. It really didn’t matter if the meal had been cold or not. It’s not like she could really enjoy it anyways, and she’d probably throw it in the microwave and then douse it with so much hot sauce that anyone else wouldn’t be able to eat it.

Mackenzie walked back to the entrance, where the woman was standing. Looking up, she narrowed her eyes for a brief moment. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, but she couldn’t remember why, “Do I know you from somewhere?” She rushed through as many memories and names as she could, but the question about a tour distracted her, “Uh, I don’t know. It’s really wrecked from the party…” Why was she wanting to see Mackenzie’s house? Though her face looked familiar, she didn’t know this person.

—

Jade had been so distracted by the pink mess and the enormity of the house, (and the fact she had a blast from the past standing in front of her) that she almost missed the light buzzing underneath her skin. She blinked slowly, going silent for a moment only to confirm she wasn’t going crazy. Nope. Her senses were tingling in front of Mack. Not in the telltale way she associated with vampires, but in some type of undead way. Right? “Oh, no need to apologize” she blurted out, forcing a grin. “I totally know things can get super wild. You wake up like… dead the day after, am I right” she chuckled, tilting her head innocently. It was just a joke really, but would it be fun to get a reaction? Absolutely. “Did you have lots of fun?” 

“Oh. Pft, don’t you worry about that” Normally, she’d never wave off a tip, but if Jade wanted to learn more, buy herself more time, she had to appear extra nice and accommodating. She twirled a finger around the room. “This is like… perfect payment. It’s the fanciest place I’ve seen in this town. In my life maybe” and okay, maybe she didn’t want to miss the tip. “But I mean, I would accept whatever you have on you” she shrugged, “or the little tour, you know…I do have to get back soon so I wouldn’t waste your time too long”. Jade had already accepted another order but they could wait. So what if her ratings went down a little more? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

When Mackenzie wandered off to the kitchen Jade contemplated what flavor of undead she might be in front of. No vampire, because duh, she’d feel that one. Zombie felt…unlikely too, considering she’d just delivered normal food to her, and not, you know, a brain burger. So by the time Mack returned, she was solidly on camp mare or fury. However, something about that felt off too. The vibes, or whatever. The other woman’s question pulled her out of her thoughts. Oh, so she did remember her then? (Duh, she was pretty memorable). Did she feel bad about stealing her man? (That was so reductive, actually. Why put two women against each other?) (But young Jade was still scorned, apparently). “Huh. You know what… you look a little familiar,” she squinted, pretending she hadn’t clocked her minutes ago. “Could be. Why would I… Oh! so…Any chance you lived somewhere in California a few years ago?”

—

Mackenzie’s mind felt like a jumbled up mess. So much had happened just recently with the sleepover and her secret getting out to a fairly large group of people that she was really just wanting to be left alone. But it was the dead comment that caught her attention and sent a jolt of panic through her corpse. Play it cool, Mackenzie. Play it cool. There was no way this woman could know she was dead right? Surely someone from the sleepover hadn’t opened their mouth already, “Right. Post-party sleeps are honestly some of the best. You’ve danced and drank, until your body says no more...And yeah, it was fun.” She had hoped she had diverted enough to get the woman onto something else.

Mack had been around people like this before. Someone wanting something from her. Trying to compliment her and kiss her ass. She was definitely planning on tipping, but she still wasn’t keen on showing off her house to some random stranger, “No, I insist on tipping. I know coming out to Harborside is a bit of a drive, so…” Looking back down at her phone, she thumbed her way back into the app and the order where she could leave a tip. “There. That should cover your gas out here, and then some.” She plastered on a smile as she closed the app and looked back up at the woman standing in front of her.

The interaction between the two had held so much awkwardness, at least in Mackenzie’s mind, that she really just wanted the other woman to leave and rather soon, “Uh, yeah. I’m originally from there. Decided to move out here for a bit of break, you know? It’s a little slower than the hustle and bustle of Hollywood.” It still didn’t ring a bell for the zombie though, of who this woman actually was. She had come across so many people in California between her co-workers and fans alone that she couldn’t really recall who Jade was. “I’m really sorry, though. I still don’t know who you are. But hey, I really appreciate you bringing my food for me.” She knew she was being rude, but she had just wanted this strange woman out of her house, before it led to something worse.

Moving back towards the front door, Mackenzie stood by it hoping that Jade would get the picture and leave.

—

Jade kept her eyes narrowed, a taunting smile playing on her lips. Mackenzie’s reaction was super predictable, all things considered. The spidey sense didn’t lie. Even if she wasn’t a vampire, she was something, as evidenced by her reaction to a really innocuous comment. Jade would play it off though, offering her assistance (the slaying type) only if she deemed Mack a lost cause. She could still joke about annoying hangovers and parties or whatever. “Yup! Been there, done that. My body isn’t taking it as well as it used to these days, unfort. Consequences of growing old, I guess” she scrunched up her nose delighted, “But you’re way younger, so I’m glad you had fun, cause this decoration totally deserved an amazing party!”

She ran a hand through her hair, her posture relaxed as she listened to the other woman assure she would be tipped. And like, she wasn’t gonna say no to that, even if the obvious resistance to showing her the mansion was a little frustrating. Jade couldn’t imagine having such a nice place and not wanting to show it off. But not everyone was as fun as she was, sadly. That was a given. “Perfect! That's totally nice of you. I appreciate that, like… so much” She nodded, her words genuine though Jade made little effort to glance at Mackenzie. “Sure, the gas. But the views more than makeup for it!” Her eyes were still dancing around the room. Taking on both the Barbie deco and the places the pink didn’t touch. 

“Oh!” Jade perked up as confirmation came that they did come from the same place. Not the same, but well… their pasts had intersected at some point. Via Brody. “That’s so cool that you did Hollywood! This would be like, the last place I’d come to chill after being among the stars”. Mackenzie, or Mack really, that’s how she’d known her before, didn’t act the way most celebrities did. Didn’t fall for the ego boost or the personal questions someone in the spotlight would’ve loved answering. It was weird, and she wondered if her little secret (the undead one) might have something to do with her evasiveness. “No problem. My name is Jade, I think you can see that in the app, can’t you?” Or did she mean she didn’t know her know her. That made more sense. The funny thing was, she probably knew more about Mackenzie than people in Wicked’s Rest did. “I’m going, no worries. Are you alright, though? For realsies? Like obviously I’m here just for the food but, what kinda girly would I be if I didn’t worry? I watched Barbie, you know… I’m super inspired by it. Women supporting women”.

She sauntered toward the exit, pretending to be ready to leave her house. (As if). But Jade was approaching the door when she turned, inching closer to Mackenzie than she had all evening. She lifted her index finger, as if she were reminiscing something. “I think… I figured it out” she smirked, basking in the way her skin thrummed with their proximity. More than anything, smug with the knowledge she had over Mackenzie. “Does the name Brody ring any bells?” of course it did, she didn’t need confirmation, she prodded further. “How is he, by the way? Would love to catch up with him”  

—

Mackenzie listened as Jade went on about various things. Clearly the woman couldn’t take a hint, but the young actress wasn’t going to be rude. Even though she was trying to lay low and figure out her life, she still didn’t want to tarnish her reputation by being rude to the person who had delivered her food. Instead, she kept a friendly smile plastered on her tired face and nodded in agreement, interjecting her thoughts every now and then to seem interested in the conversation, “I’m totes fine. You don’t have to worry about me at all. But thank you for checking. And I agree. Barbie did such a good job with spreading the women supporting women message, which was one of my favorite things about it.”

The closer Jade got to the door, the more excited Mackenzie had become. It was getting ridiculous at this point, and she was just hoping and praying she would finally leave. But what Jade said next and the smirk on her face revealed that the food delivery had never just been the intention. And as soon as she heard his name, it was like something in Mackenzie had changed. An anger had started to well up in her and more so, the monster that lay just beneath the surface, “Okay, you need to leave. Get out of my house right now.” The forced, but warm smile that had been on her face was no longer apparent. Instead, it was something of hurt and disgust, “I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to go.” At this point, Mackenzie’s posture had changed to something more threatening.

—

So Mack wanted to play dumb. Ugh, it was such an obvious, uninspired choice, Jade thought. And like… Coming from anybody else? She would’ve been a fan. Yes queen, gaslight. Fully in support. Playing dumb was a favorite move of hers too. But now, when it mattered to her? She was so not vibing with it. She pursed her lips, resisting the eye-roll. “Huh… really?” her chin tilted upward, both to appear taller than she was and to pretend she was trying to recall the situation again. “That’s super weird…” licking her lips, she waved her phone in front of Mack’s face. “So if I spent a little time stalking social media, I totally wouldn’t find pictures of you two together?” Honestly? She probably didn’t need to stalk social media for them. She could like, open her photo app and scroll down a couple of years. She was sure she saved some, with the intention of confronting Brody. But alas, that never happened. (Meaning, she met someone cuter the following week).

Brody. Who, for what she was gathering… might not even be part of Mack’s life anymore. It made this a little more boring for Jade, but she could still have some fun with it. “What happened, did someone steal him from you?” she tilted her head curiously, but the mischievous glint in her eyes gave away the punchline before it even left her lips. “I’d say that sucks… but you know what Tay Swift says about Karma”. Who knew, maybe she could be the bigger person and like… bond with Mack over Brody screwing both of them. She could so be the bigger person here. Again, she watched Barbie, girl power!

Mack did not have the same idea though, and her resolve not to engage with Jade’s bait slowly faltered. She liked it, this was way more fun than playing dumb. And she knew how to counteract too. “Easy there…” she cooed, stepping into Mack’s personal bubble, her relaxed grin morphing into something more calculated. “I really don’t think you wanna get snappy with me. Considering…I already figured out your secret” Her gaze dropped to the woman’s chest, (not for gay reasons) (well, she could multitask) but to signal Mack’s missing heartbeat. “And not the Brody thing… though your reaction tells me all I wanted to know about that too”.  

It was a little annoying she wasn’t going to get a Barbie house tour after all, but Jade knew the right amount of menace she needed to be at any particular moment. And she was pretty much at the limit here. She hadn’t exactly come prepared to get rid of a feral undead. As long as she remained in control, Mack wouldn’t have to know that tiny detail. “I’ll do you a solid, babe. Since you like… tipped super well and all. I am a grateful woman. So I’m leaving, and your pretty head stays intact. How do you like that? I think you’re winning here,” she feigned a sweet smile, walking backward to the door, in case Mack decided to show her claws at the last second. Normally, she wouldn’t use her duty to threaten anyone. Normally. She wasn’t like, against a good catfight (at least in the past) (these days she was like, such a feminist) but this was different. This felt… it didn’t sit well with her. Weaponizing undead suffering to taunt them, but whatever. Maybe Mack should’ve thought twice before stealing her boyfriend all those years ago, right? Yeah! What about Jade’s suffering, huh? She was petty, she could still hold the grudge. (Sue her!) 

She definitely didn’t want to stay and wait for Mack to disagree with her offer and choose to throw hands instead, so like… time to go. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers as one last provoking gesture, before she yeeted herself out the door. 

—

At this point, Mackenzie had refused to give into anything Jade was saying despite how angry she was starting to get. So much so that her eyes were starting to get that glaze, you know the one, and any functioning brain matter was starting to go feral. Words were going in one ear and out the other. If she kept flapping her gums, she wouldn’t get to enjoy that generous tip Mackenzie had left earlier. But Mack would get a much better meal than the now ice cold $10 take out she had ordered that had cost more like $50 by the time she had tipped.

As Jade continued to berate and prod her about Brody, Mackenzie kept her eyes trained on the shorter woman following her every move, including the brunette looking down at her…boobs? Why is she looking at my boobs? They are nice boobs, but I thought this was about Brody? Shit. Focus, Mackenzie. If the delivery driver had been trying to hint at anything else, besides having a crush on her, it had gone straight over Mackenzie’s head. Approaching feral zombie mode seemed to do that, take and splice through any current functioning brain cells, until they were unrecognizable, and it seemed like Mackenzie was starting to learn that strong emotions could affect her state-of-mind much like getting injured could. Just in a more controllable way.

“…I think you’re winning here,” Those were the words, accompanied by Jade’s motion towards the door that Mackenzie had picked up on, “And I think you’d better never come back.” Her teeth were gritted as she watched the woman get one final provocation in before leaving. And when Jade was finally gone, Mackenzie could feel her entire body relax, including the nails that had dug into the palms of her hands finally releasing from her skin.

Feeling threatened in her own home in Wicked’s Rest had been a first, and something Mackenzie didn’t appreciate. She had expected it in California. Hell, it had even happened in California, but not here. And that was taking into consideration that she had recently died here, after Cass had accidentally sent her careening over the upstairs balcony. But today a line had been crossed. If Jade wanted a bitch-off, she was going to get a bitch-off. No one made Mackenzie Ross feel threatened in her safe-space. Not today and not ever again. But first, food was in order, and not that processed crap that reminded her of the shitty, delivery driver who’s tip she was revoking. No, this was Grade A Human and with every bite, she was going to imagine she was taking a little nibble off of a screaming Jade.

[azureaqua]

Giving the Ikesen guys modern outfits (because I can) <Pt. 1>

Yeah, we’re doing this. I've probably put way too much thought and time into this. But at this point I have to share it. Why the Ikesen guys, you ask? Because they have the most traditional clothes, especially seeing that nowadays western-style fashion is present everywhere! Let's get it!

→ PART 2 HERE!

How did this post even came alive? Tbh, I was just browsing Pinterest and one of my secret hobbies is that I like to thirst over fashion runways and designer stuff. Not that I would ever buy them, or have the money to buy them, but I still enjoy it for some reason haha. So one time, I was looking at an outfit and suddenly a warlord popped into my head. That's when I decided that I'll do a full detailed research on this. Inspired mainly by their armors and color palettes. (First I thought about drawing the outfits myself, but my drawing skills are questionable, so I edited them instead. My editing skills are better, I promise.)

Also, as I said; these are from fashion runways, so almost everything is from luxury brands and/or quality designers. So not the 'typical' street fashion, because I figured it would be more interesting this way. Plus since I needed a lot of jackets and blazers for the guys, I'm thanking Balmain, because most of these are from their shows XD.

Toyotomi Hideyoshi

I started with him for some reason, when I decided to put together the collages (?). I don't know why, because when I searched for materials and inspiration I was a bit gutted when it came to him. Nonetheless I think managed to craft a decent outfit! A light traditional-looking top, nothing too fancy. Then these cargo pants that can connect as a top as well, in a garish orange color. I just had a vibe that Hideyoshi would rock it. Also it can be very functional! Then boots, to not slip in the hallways. Some leather gloves, to protect the hand and the skin (and he sometimes gives it to Nobunaga, bc he's worried.) And a bigger bag, because he packs for two people usually; Mitsunari and himself.

Maeda Keiji

The free, sometimes unhinged party guy. Who dresses as if the concept of summer had raided a party store. So I wasn't afraid to give him something unusual! Big, loose-legged pants that ventilate well. Some chunky white basketball shoes, that you also see in street dance videos. A traditional-looking top as well, with a kimono-like neckline, even simpler than Hideyoshi's. A magenta belt for good contrast, looks as if it's made out of satin! And to top it off, a leather jacket with an interesting opening! I admit, at first I wanted to use the jacket with nothing under it, making Keiji shirtless... But then I didn't. 🤫 Nonetheless, he rocks it anyway!

Mouri Motonari

I admit, this wasn't the first setup for him. I changed almost all the things, when I revisited it, since I did his outfit early on. I changed everything except the shoes lol. But for the better, since my first attempt was a disaster. I like his tailcoat the best, since it makes me remember sailors and the navy - you know, seeing he's a pirate -, with it's design. Also, it color IS navy blue, so plus points for that. The pants are quite simple, but still got that nice blue color, like the sea. I also wanted to honor his tassels, that are on his main design in the game, and I like the harsh red accent color, it matches his eyes! The top under the jacket is a simple long-sleeved black shirt, with a little extra cut in the front. He's got nice, lace up boots, with some animal printing on it, I believe? I liked the shape haha. And I added his gloves on, since we know he needs them.

Naoe Kanetsugu

I won't lie, he looks like a K-pop poster boy, but I just got these vibes from him, when I was putting this together. The black-and-white contrast is strong, I'm not sure why it's him out of all the warlords, but it was intuition haha! His outfit is fairly simple with the thight black pants, and black shoes. He has a longer, leather belt on for important design elements. His top/shirt is the most extra, with the half-and-half form! I think overall it's pleasing for the eyes. Not as colorful as Keiji, but still cool and collected!

Sanada Yukimura

I wanted only black and red pieces for him, strictly. Especially some harsh red, since he's that kid who speaks his mind no matter what and has a strong sense of honesty and justice. So red seemed appropriate and in-character for him. The details are very sharp-edged and abstract on them, mainly the top. Yukimura is also like that in a way. The pants got a red add-on as well, and the boots' laces are blood red too! Then there's this weird harness thing and the shoulder blades (?)... I was trying to mimic something like an armor, not sure how I did, but it has the rough-around-the-edges vibe - literally -, that I was going for. Then gloves, and a baseball cap too, because he's the town's cool kid!

Oda Nobunaga

My first idea was a big, epic mafia-boss fur coat. Then it ascended into something feather-like, since he has Haguro. Then it became this fancy black feather thing, on his shoulders. Another tailcoat, probably from the same runway as Motonari's XD. With luxurious black velvet design, with some nice accent blue details, and the materials mix on the belt, which is good contrast! The pants are a big baggy which I don't mind, but they're simple enough to tone the outfit down. And lastly the tall boots, which I was a bit hesitant to give to him, but it was a good decision! It's aesthetic is still very boss-like, so I'm happy that I achieved my goal!

Imagawa Yoshimoto

Did I went overboard with the idea that he has a pet peacock? Yeah, but if it's Yoshimoto, he needed something fab! He looks like a crazed bird lady, but I promise he's a crazed bird lady at a fashion show, so it's not forever. I found this photoshoot where the models had peacock themed coats, shirts and everything, so it was meant to be. I didn't put anything under his big coat, but let's pretend he wears a thin shirt, for good measure. Also, the main piece is the poncho-like thing, so I made the pants simple as well. The neckline is an intricate lace, to mix textures. And on the sides I tried to mimic the colorful feathers of a peacock. It's obvious the coat was put together from many separate pieces, but it's special. As a last touch I gave a hat to him, to add to his gentlemanly side.

Date Masamune

The huge urge to dress him in those cool dragon-patterned clothes! I had a blast finding pieces like that! I wanted to give him a loose, care-free outfit, to capture the real reckless side he has! Although the top and the pants aren't that compatible; since the top is a more elegant suit jacket and the pants seem like a pair of trainers, I still think it looks good! (Also because I definitely wanted to use that top and refused to let go.) I found this another harness thing I believe, and I wanted to mimic his armor with it, and I think it certainly makes the full picture better! I gave him gloves too, but fingerless ones this time. Also I found this super cool, over-the-top mask that made me remember an ancient dragon so it seemed like a good accessory. Instead of an eyepatch. 😅

This was a long process, and we're only halfway in!

The others are in part two, due to picture limit!

[tryan-a-bex]

Halloween; or, Violence, seen from far away, is entertaining

Inspired by a comment by Moreta (ao3), @entropy-mephit, who also did the art! My version and hers are included below. Hers is the fancy one! (Read on ao3.)

Hob watched over Dream’s shoulder as he scrolled through Pinterest posts of Halloween costumes.

“Hob, I do not want to do this. Why may I not just go as myself?” he grumbled.

“No! Love! The point of a Halloween party is to get dressed up and admire each other’s costumes! Don’t worry, the faculty has a huge range of investment is costuming. Some will go all out, especially the arts profs, but plenty of us are going to keep it simpler. What do you think of that pirate costume?”

“What if I go like this?” Dream suggested, suddenly two feet taller and dripping shadows everywhere. Hob cupped his pale, amorphous cheek tenderly in his hand.

“You know I love your Nightmare form, but I think it would be a little over the top for the party.” Hob blinked and Dream was back in his accustomed form, pointing at another picture.

“This one has cat ears, and a tail.” Hob’s lap was abruptly full of a large, black Maine Coon cat.

“Silly duck! Even the non-physicists would have questions about your change in mass!”

“I want to support you in your work social functions, but this is ridiculous!” Hob sighed.

“Anya is coming over soon for babysitting, so why don’t we put it away for now? We can revisit it later, and maybe we’ll think of something in the meantime.”

“Yes, I will go and return when my duties are complete. Maybe I will find something in a dream that will work.” Dream sounded doubtful, but he still gave Hob a tender goodbye kiss before disappearing to his realm.

Hob sighed and went downstairs to greet Yor and Anya. The New Inn has been rented out for a birthday party, so he was going to babysit Anya upstairs at his place for the first time.

“Yor! Anya! Come on upstairs!” he greeted them when they arrived.

“Anya gets to see Hob’s flat!” Anya exclaimed with wonder in her voice.

“I’m sure it won’t be that exciting!” he chuckled, opening the door. Yor entered first, and he saw how thoroughly she inspected the room, while looking as though she was just glancing around. It must have passed muster, because she turned to Anya and gave her a hug.

“Have fun with Hob, Anya!” she said, leaving her with a smile and a little nod at Hob. Hob nodded back, smiling as he squatted to Anya’s level.

“Would you like to play Spy again today?” he asked. Spy was Anya’s favourite make-believe game.

“Today, Anya is an explorer! Anya wants to explore Hob’s flat!”

“Uhhh…” Hob had tidied up, of course, and child-proofed the most dangerous things (the cleaning fluids were on a high shelf in the closet instead of on the floor beside the toilet, for example), but he was sure a determined child like Anya could find something to get into. He’d have to watch her like a hawk!

“TV. Anya has a tv,” Anya began, walking around the living room. She passed the couch to stare at the bookshelves against the wall.

“Hob has a lot of books,” she declared.

“Um, yeah,” he agreed. “Some of them are quite old. Would you like to look at a book?” he hoped she would be amenable to letting him guide the choice of book. Some of his first editions weren’t really in condition for casual handling.

“What is that?” Anya pointed at the top shelf, way in the corner. Ah. Hob had gotten out his old plague doctor mask from storage, back in 2020. He hadn’t been able to help as much this time as in the past, due to licensing requirements for health care providers, but he had covered a few in-person lectures for his immunocompromised colleagues before admin got on board with the quarantine, and he’d handed out masks in the Tube before they they were required.

“Take this, it’ll save your life, mate.” It was a surreal time.

Hob handed the mask down to Anya, remembering the first time he had put it on. He’d survived the plague the first time, when most of his family died. He’d survived it again in the early 1500’s, while he was building his fortune. It had been easier that time, because the plague was always kinder to the rich than the poor. It was in 1665, while he was recovering from grief and from being drowned, that he donned the mask. If he wasn’t going to die, Hob had realized, there were so many lives he could save. Basic battlefield first aid got him started—give thirsty people water to drink. Put a blanket on them if they were chilled. Give them a damp rag if they were feverish. Clean their bodies as much as possible. So many people still died, but maybe not quite as many. Hob was grateful for each one who had recovered.

“Hob did not die for a long time,” Anya came out with, looking quizzically at him with the mask in her hands. Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to give away that secret; he’d forgotten she was a telepath in the rush of memories. He looked her steadily in the eyes.

“Your papa has a secret, and your mama has a secret.” Anya had told him so the first time she met Dream. She hadn’t told him what the secret was, but Hob could guess, based on how extremely competent and dangerous her parents were.

“You have a secret,” she nodded in agreement, a serious look on her little face, “and I have a secret too,” Hob finished.

“Dream has a secret too,” Anya pointed out. “Franky and Uncle Yuri also.” Hob just nodded. He so did not want to open that can of worms!

“Time to explore again!” Anya suddenly announced, putting the plague mask down on the coffee table. She headed down the hall, Hob darting after her with, he had to admit, some trepidation in his heart. He hadn’t really planned on her seeing the bedroom. He’d better check it first, before she poked her nose in.

Hob stuck his nose in the bedroom, seeing with relief that it was fairly tidy and didn’t have any child-unfriendly things lying around. He turned to try to head her off anyway, only to see that it was already too late. Instead of aiming for the bedroom, she had opened the hall closet where he’d stuffed his dangerous items, and there she was, holding the hilt of his great sword, which was taller than she was. Hob winced and gently took it from her.

“How about we go explore in the park?” He suggested, determinedly turning his thoughts away from all the people he’d killed with that sword, and the times he’d nearly been killed himself, as he stowed it away again.

“Yes! Anya wants to explore the park!” She grabbed his hand enthusiastically, barely slowing down to put her shoes on as they headed outside.

Hob made sure she stopped to check for traffic before crossing the road, then sauntered after her as she dashed through the park, weaving around the few people who were also out enjoying it. She came to a halt as she spotted a raven in the grass, and crouched low to approach it, a crafty expression on her face. Ah, playing Spy again, Hob thought. The raven hopped toward the tree, then suddenly took off to caw at her from its branches.

“Anya is an explorer!” Anya proclaimed to the red-haired man sitting against the base of the tree.

“I’m a bit of an explorer too,” he confessed, patting his little bundle, which was tied to a stick like an old time hobo. Hob felt strangely at ease with him, even though he couldn’t have said why he felt familiar. Perhaps they’d met before.

“You have a secret too,” Anya disclosed. The man raised his eyebrows, glancing at Hob.

“Ah, Anya, most people do have secrets, you know. It’s generally not polite to ask about them, unless you really need to know, or if someone is not safe. In that case you should really tell a grown up…” Hob trailed off as he realized the other two were ignoring him. The stranger was being submitted to Anya’s piercing gaze, the one where it seemed she could read your soul. She didn’t break the gaze first, he did.

“You should probably ask my brother if you want to know my secrets, Hob. We have met, you know. It was very long ago. In fact, it was your memories today which drew me here.”

“You’re not the one he calls the Prodigal, are you?” Hob wondered, making connections in his head. Dream had a lot of siblings, and they were all remarkable. The man smiled brilliantly.

“I am! You can call me Joe.”

“It’s nice to meet….” Hob started, but Anya was interrupting, grabbing Joe’s hand.

“Anya wants a story! Tell me about exploring!” she demanded. Joe nodded.

“Well, there was this one day I was wandering with my dog, Barnabas,” he began.

“Anya knows Barnabas! He came here before!” Anya interrupted.

“Did he? That’s nice! So, Barnabas and I…” Hob settled in for a good story, hoping it would last until Yor returned.

Later that day, having said goodbye to Joe, Anya and Yor, Hob trudged up to his flat and flopped on the couch. His eyes fell on the plague mask, still sitting on the coffee table, and he was stuck by inspiration. Just then, Dream appeared.

“Hello, Hob,” he smiled as Hob moved to give him room on the couch.

“I met your brother today!” Hob revealed, “and I think I know what to do for your Halloween costume!”

Two weeks later, Hob and Dream were standing outside the faculty Halloween party. Hob had recreated his plague doctor outfit, and Dream was wearing his helm and robe, toned-down a bit on Hob’s advice. Dream was having second thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Duck, it will be fine,” Hob reassured him, taking him by the hand and drawing him gently into the party room. Five minutes later, they were at the refreshments table when an elaborate Big Ben Hob didn’t know came up to them.

“Excellent plague doctor mask!” she enthused. “It looks so authentic!”

“Thank you!” Hob answered, loving how willing people were to see what they expected to see.

“And you!” she turned excitedly to Dream, “I love your mask! Where did you get it?”

“I created it from the skull and spine of my enemy, who I crushed with my own hands,” Dream intoned in his most ominous voice.

“Brilliant! Great backstory! I love how you commit to the bit!” she gushed.

“Hob?” Dream whined.

“Don’t worry, love, you’re doing excellently,” Hob consoled him as they walked further into the party, once again holding hands.

Read previous: Butterflies

Read from the beginning: Space Buns

Read next: Secrets

Why I call Destruction Joe (or Not Joe).

[avrablake]

Hi rainstormdaughterdearest

Pick one (or a few) ocs and describe a typical outfit. And, of you're feeling fancy, a nicer outfit for some event. Reference photos are optional.

I love this question Sleepyowlmotherdearest. I might get a little carried away (pinterest boards activate!)

Thea wears simple tunic tops or long t-shirts with fitted pants or leggings with a pair of comfortable ankle boots. When going out in public she wears a jacket with a deep hood to hide her face and hair. I can't find anything quite like what I've imagined her jacket to look like. It's got a cowl neck with a deep hood. It's tight around the bottom but loose through the body and has loose, open sleeves.

She doesn't dress up in the story, or have a need to, but she did occasionally dress up when she was younger and still living at home. She would wear simple dresses, most of which were hand-me-downs from her mom. She prefers solid, neutral colors but her mom's dresses are mostly brighter colors, and floral prints.

Nix doesn't care much for fashion or how he looks. He likes clothes that are practical. He doesn't like to stand out. He dresses more out of habit than anything, which means he pretty much still dresses the way he always did when he was in the Syndicate. His one clothing preference is that he does prefer black or darker colors, and never wears short sleeves unless he's alone.

He mostly wears t-shirts (short or long sleeved) with sturdy pants that have lots of pockets. He has a sturdy jacket that he wears everywhere and sturdy, lace-up boots.

He absolutely would not ever want to dress up or attend an event that would require him to dress up. Eventually Mel might manage to convince him to branch out in his style a little bit–by buying him clothes because he won't do it himself. She'd choose clothes for him that fit his general style but that are more fashionable. Something like the outfit on the right. He would kind of like it actually.

Gram would dress in practical clothing, similar to Nix, when he's working. Sturdy work pants with a t-shirt and sturdy boots. He wears a jacket sometimes but often leaves it off. When he's not working he wears mostly jeans and t-shirts. Gram actually cares about his appearance and enjoys dressing in nicer clothes but doesn't like to look or feel stuffy. When he goes out to dinner or to an event with Mel he wears button down shirts with casual slacks or dark jeans and a jacket.

Kai cares less about his appearance than Gram does, but he does like trying new styles and he doesn't like for his clothes to be boring. He prefers stripes and plaids over solid colors. He likes the looser, comfortable styles often worn in the wilds. He prefers trousers over jeans and often wears brown or tan trousers with a button down or linen top.

If he were to dress up he would enjoy corduroy or tweed jackets with his plaid shirts.

Lucan wears button up shirts and slacks almost exclusively. When he's working he may add a tie and sometimes even a jacket. For formal events, he dresses the way most others in the city do, though he steers away from the traditional double-breasted suits in favor of a simpler jacket.

Kaori's style is dark fitted pants with sleevless tops and boots. She may add a cropped jacket. At home or when she's alone, she tends to wear leggings or jogger style pants with oversized loose t-shirts and sweaters. To dress up she would definitely aiming to impress and attract attention.

Ryu mostly wears dark suits or dark colored button up shirts with slacks. He doesn't generally dress casually unless he's training. He rarely participates in attack missions, but when he does he dresses similarly to Nix.

Black, gray, and other dark colors are a pretty universal fashion among members of the Syndicate. Nix, Kaori, and Ryu rarely steer towards other colors. Kaori sometimes wears other colors like reds, lighter grays and tans, especially after leaving the Syndicate.

[anoseforrottenapples]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?

Mary smells faintly of lavender, rose, cinnamon and cloves from a sachet she keeps in her closet with her dresses to freshen them. She also tends to smell like smoke if she has been cooking, since she has to lean over the fire. Sometimes an earthy smell lingers when flour gets on her hands and her clothes as she works.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?.

Mary’s hands are not quite calloused but there is a rough quality to them that she tries to ease away as much as possible. Ladies should not have work-rough hands, but it is an unfortunate reality of a farmer’s wife.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?  

Like most people in the Colonies, Mary does not eat extravagant food. Even in White Hall, as the richest house in the area, much of the food is simpler unless they are hosting a dinner. Breakfast is often porridge, with bread. Lunch is usually bread with meat, and cheese if they have some, and Mary prefers making meat pies or stews for dinner.  She tries to have desserts with dinner once or twice a week, but with war-time rationing making such treats often is not economical. Since she is with a Loyalist family, she still drinks tea, and will drink wine or cider as well, along with water.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

Mary has a passable voice, but it is certainly not anything amazing. She accepts that God did not give her a beautiful voice, but gave her other talents and uses instead.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?

For bad habits, Mary can be rather judgmental and likes to gossip. She also has a tendency to set things on fire to make her point stick with stubborn men. A big nervous tick is to find physical work of some kind when she is annoyed—aggressively kneading bread, poking at the fire, sweeping rather too forcibly. She is also a top-line stress baker and stress cleaner. When she is fretting over something, the house will never be tidier, and the neighbors are getting loaves of bread.  

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?

Mary dresses in very feminine fashions though, as she gets older, her style becomes more practical rather than fancy. When she first came to Setauket, she had been planning on being an officer’s wife and the mistress of White Hall so all the silk dresses, and gorgeous fashions would have been expected. As a farmer’s wife, they were far too much but she hardly had the money (or desire) to replace them. She still expected to be the mistress of White Hall, so she knew she would need finer dresses in time. As the war time squeezes on luxury items became more pronounced, and she began to mature, she started shifting toward simpler dresses in quieter colors. She particularly likes wearing blue. Her hair is always up, unless she is going to bed, and she likes to wear earrings as her main jewelry statement.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?  

Mary is very affectionate but in an understated way. One should never, however, mistake being understated for being disinterested since her affection is focused and goes far deeper than most people realize. She shows it through her actions mainly. They are usually expected, like keeping a lovely house. Sometimes if the situation calls for it, they are very extreme… such as helping her husband plot murders, and dealing with dead bodies. Once Mary decides she loves someone, she takes Ride or Die to a whole new level… even if the object of her affection hardly deserves such loyalty.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?  

Mary generally sleeps on her side, a habit she picked up while she was pregnant. She is also used to sleeping more-or-less in her own space, since she and Abraham are hardly cuddlers or affectionate sleepers.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

If one was listening for her, they might be able to hear Mary moving around, mainly because her skirts would be swishing about. She strives, however, to be as quiet as possible. In her own mindset, a woman should be a soothing presence in her home, and that means trying not to make any more noise then possible. Stomping feet, drumming fingers, or pointless humming and whistling are far more distracting than they could ever be considered soothing.

Tagged by @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins (Thanks!!!)

Tagging: I think everyone of note has already BEEN tagged so... take it if you want it

[msommers]

14, 18, 23, 27, and 30 for elena and val!

thank you!!! xxx // questions for ttrpg characters

14. what keeps them up at night?

ELENA — it could be so very many things, from little to big problems or her remembering how dumb she sounded in a conversation that morning or realizing she has a big day of socializing ahead of her blah blah blah. very anxious and active mind, it keeps her up at night for a good while. usually reads a book or pets her dogs to help relax enough for rest.

RIYA — literally nothing for 25 years, she's lived on fuckin' easy street her entire life and not worried about a thing. if you wanna be a goofster then the answer is whatever lover she has in bed that night lmao (as of right now, a lot keeps her up because she's not equipped to deal with genuine stress and fear and being on her own, it's terrifying and ruining her sleep career. -12/10, would not recommend)

18. what dish brings back the best memories for them?

ELENA — probably something like an apple pie. brings her back to baking with her parents, sharing a dessert at the dinner table with donny and bianca, dropping off some sweets around the city as gifts or donations, etc etc. always a gentle, happy memory dotted with joy or satisfaction or the like.

RIYA — i have no idea 💜 she's probably the type to not care much about the dish anyway, just the company she had while eating it. closest thing would likely be some kind of potential mini feast her family hosted after her first tourney participation, she didn't win but it was still a joyous celebration of her Getting There and tbh was probably an entertaining trial by fire for her future boytoy of getting through an entire event with her dramatic family. 

23. in what moment did they consider themselves to be “grown up”?

ELENA — oh boy, i'm not sure. probably something dorky in her late teens like deciding "actually, mom and dad, i Will stay out an hour later than usual to hang with my friends" and thinking that made her feel so grown up lmfao 

RIYA — she is 100% that type of girl who had her first hook-up at like sixteen or seventeen and was full on I'm A Woman Now. I'm Grown. My Power Is Infinite.

27. how do they usually dress? why do they dress the way they do?

ELENA — for lazy days i think she enjoys a cute blouse and flowy skirt with minimal accessories. in general a lot of boat neckline, loves herself some little cap or flutter sleeves on short-sleeved articles but a lot of the times ends up in long sleeves because of whitestone weather.  ends up with a lot of layers most of the time, the type to have simple things underneath and over the top outer layers to display her whole divine deal. which means a lot of intricate detailing, fancy corsets, expensive fabrics, occasional pearls adorning the top, etc etc. wardrobe full of whites, golds and light blues, with some sprinklings of pinks. has That One very fancy, very detailed golden get-up that gets whipped out for occasions where she needs to show off her sunblessed status, which is mostly why a lot of her clothes are so Extra and Excessively Beautiful to begin with because her parents and the pelorians love to see her so bright and in the spotlight. she doesn’t entirely dislike it because she does enjoy the clothes and likes feeling pretty, but sometimes she likes lounging in simpler clothes. an absolute hoe for having flower patterns over anything tbh. prefers earrings and hair pins over any other accessory, rings after but not big on necklaces as she’s quite fond of her pelor amulet. 

RIYA — almost always dresses or skirts, 50/50 on having either a more form-fitting cut or flowy fabrics if she’s feeling bubbly. cleavage 90% of the time, as well as any other way she can show off some skin here and there—usually slits down the legs or on the sides of her dress. favorite colors are purple, red and black. frequently blinged out to the max with fancy designs, gems, jewelry and whatever other accessories you can think of. a big slut for those lengthy and flashy body chain necklaces, as well as any long chained necklace to match her usual v-shaped or plunging neckline. loves loves loves cuff bracelets and bangles, as well as the ones with chain or gem designs over the back of the hand which link to a ring on a finger. shoes depend entirely on her vibe when she makes the choice tbh. she dresses this way because 1) her family is rich, 2) she was raised by two parents who care deeply about appearances and displaying status through wardrobe, 3) she's a hoe, 4) more genuine than the last one there is that she genuinely enjoys showing off her status and her body; she wants to turn heads, craves being the one people are unable to take their eyes off of when she's in the crowd, and these bold outfits that loudly declare her confidence get the job done.

she's going to be absolutely miserable with the default babey warden recruit armor :')

30. how do they handle confrontation?

ELENA — oh, terribly. she doesn’t like it one bit. she becomes withdrawn and her sensitivity really starts to shine, as well as her habit of halting speech and hesitation to fully commit to strong negative emotions. (ie: not being able to fully lash out at donny during their last encounter, even while she was feeling all kinds of upset, hurt and frustrated.) she’s always let bianca handle anything resembling confrontation, her strengths lie in peacemaking and healing.

RIYA — answered here!

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 13 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Fanner followed Lucas upstairs and into a large room at the far end of the hall.

It was fancy.

The wooden floors in this room had been sanded smooth and varnished and the cerulean blanket on a large, plush bed matched the curtains and the rug on the floor.

Directly across from the bed sat a fireplace and to the side there was a table with enough chairs to seat four people.

Lucas shot Fanner a smile.

"Nice, huh? Yore and I share part ownership of this place, so we have this room set aside for when we or any of our friends are passing through."

Fanner nodded.

"It's very nice."

Lucas led the way over to a large wardrobe.

"Yore would have been happy with something simpler but I wanted something nice. I play pretend Companion sometimes so I get to go to all these fancy places but I've always lived on the road, moving between temporary campsites. Even if I'm not here very often, I wanted somewhere to come back to that would make me feel the way this place does."

"The places I've lived have been quite nice," Fanner said. "Comfortable and clean. None of it has ever been mine of course and where I go has been at someone else's whim."

"Well," Lucas said as he opened the door to the wardrobe. "Pick out anything you want. The clothes that are way too big for either of us are Yore's but you can take anything of mine you want and you can keep it. It can be yours."

"Really? But..."

Fanner's eyes skimmed the clothes hanging in the wardrobe.

There were some expensive looking robes in there.

"I don't want to take anything expensive or... or anything you really like or..."

"Take anything you want," Lucas insisted. "Keep in mind you still have some travelling to do tomorrow and some of the robes might not be the most practical but you're welcome to take one to wear once you've settled in if you like. I know a lot of ex-Companions aren't real comfortable in pants and shirts."

"No, it's okay. I wasn't but I've been dressing this way for a while now. It is more practical."

Lucas nodded.

"I prefer it."

Lucas went and sat down at the table to wait and Fanner was left alone, staring into the wardrobe.

Lucas had told him he could have whatever he wanted but Fanner didn't want to take anything expensive or that Lucas particularly liked.

Perhaps he could just decline the offer.

He could clean and mend the clothes he was wearing.

That was something any Companion was more than capable of.

He only hadn't been because he had been low on energy but after taking so much from Yore and being mostly healed now he could surely spare it.

But was that what Lucas wanted from him?

For him to decline the offer and let him keep all of his clothes?

Fanner didn't feel like that was the case.

He felt like Lucas pitied him and wanted to do something kind for him.

Fanner didn't deserve the pity or the generosity after all he'd done but he couldn't tell Lucas all of it and he wasn't sure Lucas would condemn him for his actions if he did.

These people freed slaves.

It was hard to imagine they always found non-violent ways to do that.

Would they blame him for killing someone else to keep them from killing him?

No. They would praise him.

They would want him to do it again.

They would tell him that he'd been willing to do it to save himself, so why would he not do it to save others?

But he hadn't meant to do it at all and he didn't want to do it again.

"Is this too much?" Lucas asked and Fanner's head jerked around to look at him.

He was supposed to be doing something but he had just been staring into the wardrobe for several minutes, lost in his own thoughts.

Fanner gave a sharp shake of his head.

"No. Sorry. I... I get distracted sometimes. Sorry."

Lucas nodded.

"We were told that about you."

Fanner swallowed.

"I suppose that is what I was best known for."

"Was? What are you known for now?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

"Where have you been for the last year? From what I know there wasn't any evidence that you'd been sold but you weren't at Milaine House anymore. Nobody knew where you'd ended up."

"They realised I wasn't a normal Companion and... and I couldn't be legally sold. Or kept at all. But they were curious, I suppose, so they were... they were testing me. What I could do."

"And what can you do?"

Fanner shrugged.

"What I did to Yore. And then... and then I can use that energy I take, like... like I recover from injuries more quickly, so they hurt me sometimes and..."

"Did they tie you down?"

Fanner swallowed and nodded.

"While they did that. Yes."

"Ah. Yore didn't know about that, did he?" Lucas asked and Fanner shook his head. "He wouldn't have tied you up if he'd known."

"He had to. He couldn't trust me."

"Well it's over now anyway, so we don't have to worry about what he would have done. Yore and the people he's taking to really do just want to help you, you know? Nobody's going to hurt you anymore."

Fanner nodded as he turned back to the wardrobe.

He believed that, at least on a surface level.

He didn't think they were tricking him.

He just knew what happened when people realised his ability was more valuable than he was.

He had known Mr Burrows his entire life.

Mr Burrows didn't live at Milaine House but he'd visited frequently and personally checked in on them.

He had insisted they never be beaten or punished cruelly and even slaves who failed to sell for so long that they would never bring in a profit like Fanner and Danya were never sold off cheaply for less savoury purposes.

But, in the end, it had been Mr Burrows who had instructed a man with no surgical experience to attempt to cut out Fanner's kidney while he was fully conscious.

Any values he might have held had meant nothing when there had been something else he wanted more.

"Here," Lucas said and Fanner jumped when he realised he was right beside him.

He offered Fanner a shirt.

"These pants as well."

"Oh, uh... thank you."

Lucas put his foot next to Fanner's and nodded, satisfied.

"Take those leather boots in the corner there as well. They'll serve you well. The ones you're wearing weren't made for this kind of terrain."

Fanner looked down at his shoes.

Lucas wasn't wrong.

The soles had started to come unstuck on both of them.

They had been good shoes, just not for this.

"Thank you," Fanner said again. "I just, I wasn't sure..."

Lucas waved away his concern.

"No, I know that was a bit much to throw at you. You were trained as a Companion. It's hard for you to put yourself first."

Fanner shook his head but he didn't say anything.

If only Lucas knew just how much he was doing exactly that.

[enchantedfms]

welcome to ethereal hollow, aurora rosamond irons ! enjoy your stay and remember, those dreams are just that ; dreams !

OUT OF CHARACTER

diana, 21+, pacific, she + her. n /a triggers or fcs !

INTRODUCE YOUR CHARACTER

[ sleeping beauty & aurora. twenty-six. csfemale / she + her. hannah dodd ]

dreams of being cursed in a sleep-like death by the prick of a finger in the enchanted forest, are becoming more and more vivid for ROSAMOND IRONS. still just quick flashes, they should be nothing for than dreams, but they feel so real. the SECRETARY  (  SPINDLE & IRONS LAW  [  her father’s law office  ]  ), has always been known to be + angelic & benevolent, however at times can be -self-absorbed & fanciful. usually spotted WALKING AROUND DAYDREAMING usually with a decorative bottle of liquid iron in her purse. but they’re hard to miss cheeks blushed a shade of rose , a haunting melody hummed , a yawn escaping past parted lips mid-conversation always has them standing out. 

FAIRYTALE LIVES

in past times it might be said that the arrival of a daughter, the only child to a king a queen, would have been a glorious day. somewhat of a miracle. longed for, in fact, as there was little hope the queen might conceive, but some might also say a curse had followed the king for his past doings. fate was not always kind. on the day of the grand feast to welcome aurora into the world, all had been invited— all but one. golden plates, pristine flowers without a blemish or wilted petal, music that would have gone long into the night, and lights that illuminated the night sky, it was a sight to behold. a feast celebrated with all its splendor, which is why when it had drawn to an end and gifts had been bestowed, the princess had fallen victim to the sins of her father. a curse! the uninvited guest …

well, the rest of the story had become legend around her father’s kingdom in the enchanted forest. whisked away in the dead of night by those entrusted to keep her safe. tucked away in a cottage far off into the forest, aurora grew up with rose colored lenses tinting her world. prepared for everything but the ways of people and the interactions that came with that. naturally, she’d be susceptible to the societal manipulation of trust and ideas of love, with her own intuition something she had yet to understand. stories had given her a very black and white view of what good and evil was. life was far simpler tucked away in that cottage before she learned the truth. after aurora had awoken from the sleeping curse, the princess found herself unable to fully trust most people she surrounded herself with. but good would always win, wouldn’t it? it was something she had to reckon with, that maybe good and evil wasn’t always so black and white, maybe there was a grey area to this happy eve after …

when the villains had been banished, aurora once more fell back into the mindset that ‘ the damned cannot be saved ’ the evil will remain evil, in a word, maybe her father had been right all along. it was as simple as that. apart from one small detail, now, evil was a word bestowed upon those who opposed him. 

CURSED LIVES 

( illness tw )

in ethereal hollow, aurora’s story hadn’t quite been as happily ever after as the enchanted forest has gifted her with, this blissful ignorance … rosamond irons was the daughter of a man, an important one, a lawyer, who had done what he could to make it to the top much like the kingly counterpart in the enchanted forest.

rose was a sickly child, often lethargic due to anemia that kept her complexion pale and body weak. dizziness and the prospect of fainting was something to watch for and any blood loss, even just a drop from her finger, was a worry. iron in liquid form, kept in a decorative glass bottle, was the only thing that seemed to help; it was because of this that aurora’s father did his best to keep his daughter safe, maybe too safe. he treated her like glass and rose’s mother had little say in the matter. yet, unlike the kingdom in the enchanted forest, here she was given all he could provide to a daughter whose childhood had been missed once upon a time, and she grew to be spoiled. she was given a job at her father’s law firm, spindle & irons, as she couldn’t manage to hold anything else, and always in sight. always at the mercy of what her parents think are best and at the favor of a few family secrets tucked away. 

AESTHETICS / MUSING / HEADCANONS

pinterest , https://www.pinterest.com/liijepas/rosamond/

headcanons , 

she has a small scar on her index finger in the enchanted forest, it was from the spindle on a spinning wheel, but in ethereal hollow it was from her attempt to mend a tear in her dress by herself.  

recently she’s ironically found herself to suffer from insomnia , difficulties sleeping

often daydreaming

in ethereal hollow, she had at one point attempted to take on a job as a seamstress apprentice, but one too many pricks to the finger left her right back under her father’s watchful eye

she’s been eyeing one of the homes for purchase for herself, but her father would never allow that

pink roses grow under her bedroom window at her father’s estate on beechwood avenue, the rose bushes have always made it impossible for her to sneak out, or anyone to sneak in unless they want to be pricked by thrones

her vanity in her bedroom in ethereal hollow is always perfectly set up with all her favorite belongings, usually of the eccentric sort; a gold hand mirror, her favorite lipstick shades, jewelry, etc. she doesn’t like when people mess around with it

there is a stray cat that often visits she’s come to name clementine ( after the sophie masson’s novel )

the irons household is known for throwing quite the parties for the people of ethereal hollow , but not always inviting everyone , some things never change

likes & dislikes , 

favorable: strolls in the gardens, any dessert that has berries in it, dancing, singing, daydreaming, any shade of pink specially for makeup, the idea of love as she’s a hopeless romantic, romance novels and films

unfavorable: being treated like a child, sewing needles, deceitful people, secrets being kept from her

[teleprompterapp]

What can you use instead of a teleprompter?

The daily media and DIY video explosion compel us to think that some tricks are involved! How can speakers appear confident and narrate as if all the long text has been learned by heart? Children in school can do that, but leaders, presenters, newsreaders, and actors of all ages? The truth is that the Teleprompter's beginnings go back to the 1930s. Actors needed a way to remember spoken lines besides the physical prompters. Cue cards served the purpose of the words written on paper. Hubert Schlafly worked with Fox Studios and devised such a system.

With improvements in technology, Teleprompter hardware was born that was big, heavy, costly, and difficult to handle. A mirror reflected the text on the screen that the speaker read out while facing the camera, giving the impression that it is spoken from the heart. The audience cannot see the text either. The pattern is followed even today by newsreaders, along with video blogs and DIY videos that are the rage worldwide. Like TVs and radios getting smaller and smaller, the virtual Teleprompter App software is free to download and full of wonders. Like painting on a grain of rice, use the Teleprompter App for mobile to explore great possibilities.

Do you fancy cue cards?

You need a background for the conventional Teleprompter with the camera and lights. Since the hardware is not only costly but involves much hassle, why not opt for something simpler like cue cards? The cue cards or note cards could contain all the lines to be spoken or bulleted points. This system is still in use and not seen in the video or film. Besides, the cards can be placed anywhere conveniently. The assistant quickly changes the cards according to need. Printed or handwritten, the letters need to be big enough!

Why not use a smartphone?

The smartphone needs to be mounted on a stand behind and above the camera. Standing 5 feet away, the speaker reads from the Smartphone screen while looking into the camera. The difference here is the phone screen that has taken the place of the cards. Phone screens are small and would require much manipulation to read through a lengthy text.

Laptop, tripod stand, and camera

The laptop or desktop offers the advantage of more giant screens. A similar arrangement with the camera placed directly above the laptop will help read the lines facing the listeners and appear to be speaking rather than reading.

Getting virtual with the Teleprompter App

Why not quit all the complexities and install an app? Free or paid for, according to the features, don't forget that it is an essential tool for programs. The following questions arise:

How to display the text on the screen, the text size, and mirroring options  

Importing the text to the app from a variety of locations and text formats like MS Word  

The possibilities for editing the text to make changes according to the need

Voice activation, along with text scrolling that happens routinely

Timings for speaking during time frames, scrolling speeds adjusting accordingly

Teleprompter App brings several advantages.

Speakers often face panic situations during live events before a large gathering. Practice is required, and confidence. Speak naturally with the app without the need to remember each word. Which app is best? Trials will help decide which works best for the individual. Start with the free version.

Speaking ability differs. Public speaking requires excellent skill, just like award functions and news programs. Avoid fumbling and nerves with this superb app.

Are you interested in Teleprompter App for mobile?

Avoid all the fuss and the expense of teleprompter equipment and their management. Millions of little phones possess the capability to deliver superb services with the teleprompter software installed, free or costly. What facilities can you expect?

Alternatively, use some apps as a mirrored teleprompter or camera teleprompter

A floating teleprompter allows any other app to be used concurrently

Timer and text speed, font and text size, and colors are all changeable

Connect with Bluetooth for remote control

Auto-start or delayed, countdown and colors and speeds adjustable  

Customized text import, configuration, and scrolling at selected speeds

So, go ahead and build confidence and skills with some practice and testing different apps. Start as a hobby and hit the sky with creative professional work. Use the Teleprompter for various applications and catch up with the fast-moving media world. A Teleprompter App and even a Teleprompter App for mobile include a range of intelligent features that take care of every little problem. A short adjustment period and you are set to go very far.