#『 ❛ SUN-KISSED FRECKLES MAKE CONSTELLATIONS . ╱ visage 』

[heronot]

i love one (1) man

[ccatskies]

sciflash | chemistry class

rasa’s request

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"Chemistry is the study of matter and energy and the interactions between them. This is also the definition for physics, by the way. Chemistry and physics are specializations of physical science."

There goes that voice. Flash resisted the urge to let a groan slip out and annoy the teacher who had just commenced the said class. He knew Chemistry, but today was awfully boring. No matter how much he despised a few subjects, it just wasn't his thing to barge in like a despicable roach and get on a teacher's nerves.

That would be his complimentary rascal of friend's field of expertise.

His eyes darted towards one of the tables in the third row, snorting as he suppressed a laugh. There's the adorable rascal.

Dash was, as usual, being a brat about things and getting her hand slapped from time to time by Shimmer, who had mentally declared that life was quite meaningless at this point, especially if you had to deal with Rainbow touching random potions for entertainment to bust everyone's asses six feet into the sky and out of the Chemistry Lab.

"Chemistry tends to focus on the properties of substances and the interactions between different types of matter, particularly reactions that involve electrons - ah, wait a second." Mr. Cranky interpolated, holding up a finger prior to walking off to the teacher who had been waiting for him at the door to deliver a message on the urgent change of routines.

Sentry suppressed a yawn, shyly glancing at his partner from the corner of his eye. In an instant, blood rushed up to his cheeks, coating it with adorable pink tints scattered across them like a pretty bunch of full bloomed roses. He brought his hands closer to his chest and leaned back on the chair, while the latter stood straight, fiddling with the bottle of a potion and going through her notes once again.

Sparkle's hair was in a messy bun, tied up with a rubber band while a big gold star laid on top of it. Few strands of her indigo hair gave her side profile astounding visuals for him just stare at. Her rosy cheeks had a special warmth, radiating a glow over her honey bronze skin. Her white laboratory coat only added onto her daunting look, as she maneuvered her finger tip through the pages of the Chemistry book.

She looked to the side once again, her alluring side profile snatching his view once again.

Fuck, he mused, one hand flying up to his face, as he cupped his right cheek to feel the warmth that generated from the abrupt blood rush.

Sure, it wasn't his first time looking at her, and definitely not the last.

More importantly, he wasn't sure how she did that to him like it was simply nothing, whereas it took him ages to have her blush in front of him. Of course, he knew she might've been hiding those blushes which burst out like balloons only when he took special measures but when it came down to him, she didn't need to even life a finger.

"Hey."

She was honestly so breathtaking - did no one tell her that?

"Huh, Flash?"

Breathtaking was an understatement too, he figured. She was just drop dead gorgeous, as if she was a beauty hailing from the heavens above - and Flash definitely didn't exaggerate that. He's seen Shimmer casually flirt with her, while Sparkle would laugh and playfully slap her shoulder.

Sunset's teeny tiny crush on the adorable bookworm justified the class Twi fell under. She's dated Timber, prior to ending the relationship on a good note. And all they had to say about his best friend was that she was so worth it.

"Flash!"

He broke out of the trance, blinking twice as he found his stinging eyes water, before squeezing them shut, a small drop traveling down his lashes, "h-huh. . .?"

"Your eyes!" Sparkle gasped, drawing herself closer to the teen boy, resting one of her warm hands on the surface of the table and the other on his left shoulder. She subconsciously brought herself to examine those pretty cornflowers, bearings her face towards his. Her breath fanned over the tip of his red nose, as she tilted her head, worry evident in her tone, "do they sting?"

"Wha-" he opened his eyes at the sound of her honey voice, a little taken aback as he registered the proximity, "ohh, fuuck."

She only made it worse for him, furrowing her brows at his words, as she dragged her lower lip under the edge of her teeth, "what? Does it sting too bad? You're tearing up, so - "

"N-not that!" He sputtered, biting his lip as soon as he stared up at her violet globes, "umm, I. . ."

"You what?"

"Your eyes." He immediately blurted, his cheeks betraying him once again, as he gazed into the most beautiful pair of eyes ever, astounded by the way they carried themselves. He swore that he could see the entire galaxy and at least a thousand constellations imprinted on those small captivating sultry orbs, reflecting back on his like the sun's rays.

She suppressed a giggle, breaking into a small smile, before she brought up her index up to his visage, cutely booping his nose, "my eyes? Ooh, are you flirting with me?"

His cheeks flushed into the shade of red - almost as red as the color of a scarlet Dahlia. Damn it, Century! Not now!

"Uh, no?"

Twilight snickered, not taking his response seriously, "is this the time to make jokes? I thought that's our thing only when classes are off."

"Wow," he scoffed, warm air purging through his nose, as he tilted his head to the side opposite to hers, "I'm mad that you don't take hints."

She raised a brow in amusement, letting a lighthearted laugh break through her system, "hint? What hint?"

"That I'm genuinely trying to compliment you for a reason."

She leaned back and flopped down onto the sit next to him, propping an elbow on the armrest as she cupped her cheek, "oh really?"

"You're pretty, am I not allowed to say that?" Flash rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation, "fuck that, you're beautiful."

That had her blush. No matter how experienced she was at hiding those, she could not get do so for long.

Twilight smiled and bit her lip, vanquishing her urge to press him further but rather have him blurt out things (so that she could put them to use the next time she felt like embarrassing him). He had immediately caught onto the look on her face, growing a little shy at the indication.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Sentry huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "am I not allowed to call my best friend pretty?"

"U-uh. . ." she laughed a little nervously, her thin silver glasses sliding down a little down the bridge of her nose, as she concealed her cheeks from his view with her hands over them, "noooo."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, curving into an attractive grin as he reached out his arm to pull down her hands from her face, leaning in closer to catch a sight of her turn to be red, "awww, did I finally get you?"

She caught both of his wrists as they neared her, looking down on her lap, as she felt the burning sensation course through her. The boy only smiled, his insanely attractive dimples glowing from the corners of his wide smile, as he trailed his bigger hands down, smoothly intertwining his fingers with that of the Teacher's Pet.

She looked up at him holding back a few giggles, as she snorted, her honey cheeks tinted pink like cotton candy, "are you playing with me, Flash Century?"

His smile instantly dropped as he scoffed in disbelief, "did you really just say that, Twinkle Sprinkle?"

"Twinkle Sprinkle?" Twi's jaw hung low, as she maintained her posture, still having her fingers locked with his tan ones. Her face was a mess right now, red with embarrassment as well as flattery, showcasing the cute freckles splattered across the area surrounding her nose. "Oof, you're gonna get it. That's the childish nickname you gave years back. I thought we settled that you won't use it anymore!"

"I - " he laughs silently, as she frees her hands from him, standing back up and maneuvering her hands through several potions, desperately wanting to free herself from the situation.

Flash stood right next to her, his seraphic smile as heartwarming as ever, as he whispered next to her ear, warm breath hitting her skin like a steam and making her freeze on the spot, "cute little Twinkle Sprinkle."

She turned to face him, but was rather met with his chest - curse her shortness. She blushed profusely once again, prior to staring up at him, as she scoffed, "you're certainly hitting on me."

He moistened his lower lip, the same warmth radiating from his presence, as one hand slipped down to her waist, "of course, you pretty little thing."

"You are pretty," she immediately snapped back nonchalantly, her face as straight forward and genuine as ever.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The boy bit his lip, the shyness slipping out again. It took him a while to get her flustered but how the hell did she do it within a second?

Was this the Sparkle effect?

That made him feel magical and helpless? That made his heart beat like the thunderous sound of drums?

"You're staring again, Flash," Twi coughed, masking her flustered front, and replacing it with a terrible poker face.

"I again do that for hours actually." He removed his hand from her waist, dragging his lower lip under his teeth, as he shyly looked down on the table.

"Wow," She playfully punched his chest, letting out a laugh which rang through his ears like a serene and paradisiacal euphony, "you're. . . unbelievable, Sentry."

She pursed her lips into a thin line, prior to gazing at his features with a goofy grin, "unbelievably gorgeous, that is."

"Stop," he bit his lip, letting out a sigh in disbelief, "how can you just do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fluster me easily."

"I do that?"

"Yes."

She scrunched up her nose, smiling adorably, "well, then. Guess I found my new hobby!"

"What? No."

"Definitely."

"You're not - "

"You're the cutest."

"I - "

"Softest - "

"A little marshmallow. That's what I think of when I look at you. A sweet and cute little marshmallow." She snickered, "I can poke and kiss your squishy cheeks all day - "

"H-huh?" He had the cutest face on - with utter disbelief was etched on his features, while the pink blush never seemed to go away. If Flash could recall all of his shit talk with the tiny bookworm, he would swore that she never played the flirty card. It was either getting flustered or masking it.

Did he hear that right? From Twilight?

Twilight stepped back, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. She held back a boisterous laugh from breaking out and destroying her system as soon as she spotted her so-called friend's lips quiver, with the biggest flustered look on his face, screaming what just happened?

"Guess I won this time, Habibi."

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[splendidlyimperfect]

Chapter Summary: Geralt and Jaskier try to figure out why Jaskier is glowing.

Chapters (3/3): 1 | 2 | 3 Fandom: The Witcher Rating: Explicit Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Yennefer Additional Tags: Canon Universe, BAMF Jaskier, Stardust inspired, smut and fluff, monsters, minor injuries, nonhuman Jaskier

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“You’re glowing.”

Jaskier frowns, leaning back from Geralt and bringing a hand up to touch his face. Nothing feels different, but Geralt won’t stop staring at him.

“I’m...”

“Glowing.” Geralt reaches out and runs his fingers across the bridge of Jaskier’s nose, very gently. The touch makes Jaskier shiver. “Like stars.”

Something soft and quiet creeps through the back of Jaskier’s mind, but before he can focus on it, it drifts away again, leaving nothing behind but the feeling of cool night air. He pushes himself up off the bed and stalks over to the mirror, brow furrowing in confusion at the tiny pinpricks of light on his face.

“What,” he says quietly, “the fuck.”

Continue reading on AO3

“I take it this hasn’t happened before,” Geralt says wryly.

“Definitely not.” Jaskier turns back to him, chewing on his bottom lip and trying again to chase the strange sensation. Sometime familiar tugs at his mind but he can’t catch it. “At least,” he clarifies, “I don’t think so.”

“Seems like something you would remember,” Geralt says, gesturing for Jaskier to come back to the bed. Jaskier ignores him, still staring curiously at his reflection. “Can you feel it?”

Jaskier shakes his head, then looks at Geralt with raised eyebrows. “Have you... seen it before?” Unease twists his stomach. “Am I some sort of—”

“No.” Geralt interrupts him before he can spiral into panic. “Not any monster I’ve seen.” He pauses, then adds, “I’ve seen lots of monsters,” as if this is some sort of comfort. Before Jaskier can respond with something sarcastic, Geralt says, “It’s fading.”

Jaskier turns back to the mirror, touching his face as the star-like dots dim, then wink out several at a time until his skin is regular and unblemished. The strange sensation in his chest dissipates too, leaving him slightly breathless.

“Well.” He blinks a few times, then turns back to Geralt.

“What do you think caused it?” Geralt asks as Jaskier returns to the bed, sitting cross-legged on the sheets.

“Fantastic sex?” Jaskier grins when Geralt rolls his eyes. “No,” he concedes. “I’ve had plenty of other partners and they’ve never commented on my glowing visage post-coitus.” He gestures at his face. “Perhaps sleeping with a Witcher? Have any of your previous conquests started sparkling after your carnal encounters?”

Geralt gives him a half-hearted glare and Jaskier sighs, flopping back on the bed.

“We could ask Yen—”

Jaskier reaches up and slaps his hand over Geralt’s mouth. “We will not,” he says firmly. “It’s just glowing. I’d rather be radiant than talk to that…” He trails off at the mildly offended look on Geralt’s face. “Look, just because you wished yourselves together doesn’t mean I have to like her.”

Geralt shrugs, then removes Jaskier’s hand from his face and leans in to kiss him.

~

Despite Jaskier’s protests, Geralt does ask Yennefer. He isn’t planning to, but when they show up at an inn a few towns later and she’s sitting at a table in the back corner, Jaskier sighs in defeat and follows Geralt over to join her.

“Let me see if I’m getting this right,” Yennefer says slowly, raising an eyebrow as she searches Jaskier’s face. “You got… glowing freckles.”

“Mhmm.” Geralt watches Jaskier squirm uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Like stars.”

“Yes.”

Yennefer hums, expression shifting from disbelief to mild curiosity. “What were you doing before they appeared?”

“Having sex,” Geralt says before Jaskier can come up with a lie. Jaskier’s face moves from surprise to shock to indignation so quickly that it barely registers, and Geralt tries to hide a smile at the red flush that creeps across his cheeks.

“With… each other?”

“That’s not your—” Jaskier sputters, but Geralt interrupts him.

“Yes.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier hisses, kicking his ankle under the table. Geralt ignores him.

“I’ve never heard of anyone literally glowing after sex,” Yennefer says, lip quirking up in an almost-smile. “Has it happened again since then?”

Jaskier huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as Geralt shakes his head. “Just the first time.”

Yennefer taps her fingers on the table, then shrugs. “I’ll look into it,” she says. “But only because it’s an interesting magical phenomenon that I’ve never heard of before, not because I’m doing you any favors.”

~

Three days later, in the middle of the night, Yennefer’s voice wakes them both from their sleep.

You need to run.

Jaskier sits up quickly, untangling himself from Geralt’s embrace and pulling the thin blanket close as he looks frantically around the campsite. Roach nickers nearby, and everything is dark save for the soft glow of the moon through the trees.

“Did you hear that?” he demands, looking down at Geralt, who is propped up on one elbow and peering curiously into the trees. The moonlight reflects off his eyes and Jaskier shivers.

Run, Yennefer’s voice says again, and it takes Jaskier a disorienting moment to realize that it’s not coming from around them, it’s coming from inside his head.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, kicking the blanket off and standing up. “How is she doing that?”

Geralt holds out his hand, gesturing for Jaskier to be quiet as he moves to a crouch and reaches for the sword that’s lying on the ground beside them. There’s no noise to signal an impending attack – nothing beside a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and the occasional howl of a wolf in the distance.

Jaskier’s about to chalk up the warning to paranoia when Yennefer’s voice tears through them again, this time much more frantic. RUN, you idiots!

“From what?” Jaskier shouts, looking around frantically. “There’s nothing—”

His words are cut off by something appearing in his mouth.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, but Jaskier can’t see because whatever is attacking him is also covering his face. It’s cold and tastes like iron, but when he tries to bite down on it, it shifts and oozes. Jaskier gags, trying to spit whatever it is out, but it presses back further until he can barely breathe.

There’s more shouting and a muffled thud, but when Jaskier tries to grab at whatever’s on his face and pull it away, he realizes that he can’t move his arms. The thing pushes him backward, slamming him against a tree as it wraps around his chest and starts to squeeze.

Jaskier tries to scream, but nothing comes out around whatever it is that’s currently choking him. For a second, he’s sure he’s going to pass out, but then something sparks inside him, and he’s yanked back into a memory.  

 He’s twelve years old and hiding in an alley, hoping that if he makes himself small enough, Billy won’t see him. Unfortunately, the gods aren’t particularly kind to Jaskier, and he quickly finds himself face-to-face with a boy much, much larger than him.

“C’mere, you little shit,” Billy growls, grabbing Jaskier by the arm and yanking him out from behind the pile of flour sacks where he’s hiding. Jaskier growls at him, trying to tug his arm away. Billy’s still bleeding from his nose where Jaskier hit him, and there’s a mark on his forearm in the exact shape of Jaskier’s teeth.

“Fuck off,” Jaskier snarls, kicking Billy’s shin and struggling against his grip.

“You’re psychotic,” Billy says, tightening his grasp and wrenching Jaskier forward until he falls to his knees. Someone approaches from behind and grabs Jaskier’s hair, pulling on it hard until Jaskier’s eyes start to water from the pain.

“Where’s your sister?” Billy asks, voice terrifyingly calm.

“Fuck you,” Jaskier replies through gritted teeth.

Billy slaps him, hard. “I said, where’s your sister?”

Jaskier glowers at him, refusing to answer. Matilda is safe at home, away from Billy and his wandering hands and his inability to understand the word ‘no.’ She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but Jaskier takes his duties as older brother seriously – even if it means getting the shit beat out of him.

“She’s gonna say yes eventually,” Billy says, hand moving to a small dagger that he keeps in his belt. “But first I’m gonna cut off all your pretty hair and kick your teeth in for fucking with me.”

Some of the rage in Jaskier’s chest turns to fear, and there’s a moment where he considers begging. Billy steps closer, blade glinting in the afternoon sun, and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

Nothing happens. Instead, the fear coalesces into a righteous anger that burns him from the inside out, and something sears across his skin. There are several screams, and when Jaskier opens his eyes, he can’t see anything but a brilliant silver light that beams out of him and pushes everyone else away. It’s warm and familiar, and he grins when it flows back into him, making his skin shimmer.

“Freak,” Billy whispers, scrambling back from where he’s been knocked on his arse. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Jaskier says, taking a step forward and feeling a smug sense of satisfaction when Billy flinches. “You’re the freak. Now fuck off or I’ll… I’ll light you on fire.”

He’s bluffing. This power is both familiar and strange, and he’s not certain he can light things on fire with it, but Billy is afraid enough that he takes the threat at face value and scrambles to his feet.

As the sound of footsteps fades and Jaskier is left alone in the alley, the light begins to dim, until Jaskier is left with nothing but a stinging scalp, bloody knees, and the knowledge that he is more powerful than he realized.

 Jaskier opens his eyes.

This time, instead of the darkness, he can see the forest, lit up with a brilliant silver glow that’s exploded from his chest. It’s just like the memory. Starlight fills the glade, burning away whatever’s got him in its grip, and he stumbles forward when it eventually lets go of him. The bitter taste disappears from his mouth, as well as whatever was choking him, and he coughs and takes a few deep breaths.

“Oh.” Geralt’s voice comes from nearby and Jaskier turns to see him staring at the light. It’s spilling from Jaskier in waves, pulsing out with every heartbeat and driving back the darkness bit by bit. The creature – whatever it is – screeches and darts toward Jaskier again, only to be hit with another wave of light that burns it away.

Jaskier and Geralt stare at each other for a moment as the light starts to fade and sink back into Jaskier’s skin. The powerful feeling is back and Jaskier breathes it in, trembling at the rush.

He’s about to step toward Geralt when a roaring sound fills the air between them and a portal appears, spitting sparks in every direction. Yennefer emerges from the circle, looking pristinely put together despite the late hour, and her face is scrunched in concern until she sees that they’re both unharmed.

“Ah,” she says, staring at the way Jaskier is still glowing in the dark. “You’re all right, then.”

“Um,” Jaskier replies.

Yennefer nods, then takes a step back and gestures for them to follow her. “Come with me,” she says, and for the first time in his life, Jaskier listens to her without arguing.

~

They end up in the kitchen of a small but ornately furnished home. Geralt is given the awkward task of guiding Roach through the portal and then out the front door without damaging anything, and when he returns to sit next to Jaskier at the table, the starlight has dissipated. The rush disappears with it, and Jaskier is left exhausted.

“Thank you,” Geralt says, nodding at Yenn. He squeezes Jaskier’s arm. “Are you all right?”

Jaskier nods. “What the fuck was that?” he asks as he rubs his throat, wiping at his face again to try and get rid of the sticky sensation. He can still taste iron and ash, and he shudders at the memory of being unable to breathe.

“Void beast,” Yenn replies, handing him a cup of something that smells sweet. He takes it gratefully, too exhausted to be snarky. His entire body aches, and he can still feel thousands of tiny pricks of pain everywhere the light left his body.

“What would a void beast want with him?” Geralt asks, shifting closer to Jaskier and placing a hand on his thigh.

“The light,” Yennefer explains, sitting down across from them at the table.  

“You mean…” Jaskier raises a hand to his face.

“It’s starlight,” Yennefer explains. “They feed on it.” There’s a brightness to her gaze that Jaskier’s never seen before – something akin to excitement. “I did some research, after you left. You were born in December, correct?”

Jaskier nods as Yennefer reaches behind her and pulls a book off her shelf. She flips through several pages, then turns it toward Jaskier and Geralt. It’s a full-page drawing of a couple standing on a hill under a sky of falling stars.

“Nine months before your birth, there was a shower of stars,” Yennefer says. “Not unusual, but this was the largest starfell ever witnessed. Reports say it was like watching the heavens fall to earth.”

“I remember that,” Geralt says softly, touching his fingertips to the paper. “We watched it from Kaer Morhen. The sky looked like it was on fire.”

Jaskier studies the picture intently, feeling the warm sense of familiarity bubble up inside him again. “I… remember too,” he says softly. “Or, I’ve seen it. In dreams, I think. Obviously I wasn’t there, but…” He brings his hand to his chest. “It’s inside me.”

Yennefer nods, and Jaskier detects a hint of jealousy in her gaze. “I’ve not seen it before, but I imagine others that were conceived that night have the power too.”

“But why now?” Jaskier asks, frowning. “I haven’t… since…”

He trails off as tiny snippets of memory begin to float to the surface – times where he’d been stronger, faster, braver. Protecting Matilda. Saving a little girl from drowning in the river. Helping his aunt give birth when she’d been weeks too early and managing to save the babe. Hauling Roach back from a precipice when she’d almost slipped.

Saving Geralt from the maurezhi.

“Oh,” he says softly.

Yennefer nods, and part of Jaskier is irked because he knows she’s reading his memories along with him. The other part is grateful that he doesn’t have to clarify. Geralt looks between the two of him with his eyebrows raised, searching for an explanation.

“Acts of love,” Yennefer explains. “And sacrifice.”

Geralt nods as if it’s the most reasonable answer in the world. Jaskier supposes it probably is for a man who sees the inexplicable on a daily basis.

“So why the glowing?” Geralt asks, reaching out and brushing his fingers across Jaskier’s cheeks. “When we slept together?” Jaskier ducks his head. Heat creeps into his cheeks because he knows the answer to that before Geralt’s even finished asking the question.

“Because he loves you,” Yennefer says simply. There’s no hint of jealousy or bitterness in her voice, and when Jaskier looks at her, she gives him a rare smile. “Don’t you?”

Jaskier huffs, dropping his gaze back down to the floor, but Geralt isn’t having it. He moves his hand to Jaskier’s chin and tips his head up until they’re looking at each other. “Do you?” he asks.

“Of course I do,” Jaskier mutters, and the expression of surprise and delight on Geralt’s face makes the embarrassment worth it. “What, you think I followed you around for years because I loved sleeping outdoors and having my life threatened on a daily basis?”

Geralt laughs. “Well, it could have just been my good looks,” he teases. Jaskier sighs in exasperation.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, and before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses Geralt.

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Yennefer says, and Jaskier hears her chair scrape along the floor as she pushes it back from the table.

“Yes, thank you,” Jaskier says, tone both fond and exasperated at the same time.

As soon as the door closes behind her, Geralt grabs Jaskier by the waist and pulls him into his lap. Jaskier sighs, tipping his head back as Geralt kisses his neck and runs a hand through his hair.

“So,” Geralt says against his skin. “You love me.”

“I already said I did,” Jaskier replies, resting his hands on Geralt’s chest and feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart. It’s a counterpoint to the frantic pattering of his own as he hesitantly asks, “And… you?”

“I do,” Geralt says, and even though he doesn’t say the word ‘love,’ Jaskier knows he means it in every way he can. “I do, Stardust.” The nickname makes something warm pool in Jaskier’s stomach, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

“Stardust, huh?”

“Mm.” Geralt kisses his throat, then leans back and grins at him, tipping his head toward the bedroom. “Now come with me. I need to see if I can make you sparkle again.”

[erineverly]

“....Happy Valentine’s Day, Erin.” A shy voice speaks up. It took every last ounce of courage that the Bailey boy could muster to come over here on Erin’s side of the classroom to hand her the paper hearts and Valentine card he colored and drew just for her. He also has a bag of heart sugar cookies he and his grandma made and flowers she also supplied him with, but he hasn’t gotten the bravery to show her those just yet as emeralds are having hard enough time looking her in the eye right now.

                      𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 💖 / ( child verse. )

        outside, there’s an abundance of powder-like snowflakes, all dancing beneath the bashful rays of the morning sun and whispering softly as they’re being carried into the unknown on a brisk wind, dazzling and colorless albeit oh so mesmerizing. covered in a thick, white blanket, LAFAYETTE has transformed into a winter wonderland as if the weather somehow knew — this one february day is incredibly special, it’s a celebration of something beautiful … love and friendship. the atmosphere seems to be tingling with excitement as the classroom begins to fill with continuous chatter and boisterous laughter. young students bustling around, cheeks and noses ripe from the cold. they’re slowly finding their seats and merrily exchanging all kinds of stories with their friends as the metal bell hasn’t yet echoed among the hallways.

        the girl of sugary sweet smiles, whose eyes are as blue as the sky itself and faint freckles resemble the most breathtaking constellations of stars, sits perched atop her desk. a riot of dark ringlets cascading down her back and over her shoulders, sun-kissed skin aglow. she’s wearing a blue dress, embedded with tiny pink polka dots, and pink tights to match. skinny legs crossed and dangling from the edge, small feet clad in white buckle shoes that seem to be shining underneath the fluorescent lights. her curious gaze is fixated upon the world outside, silently counting the fluffy snowflakes as they continue to pile up on the windowsill. she’s daydreaming, wishing she could be dancing among them, spinning so gracefully and giggling. it’s insanely breathtaking — something so rare in california, so common here.

        however, it doesn’t take more than a shy whisper to have her attention flicking away from the landscape and toward the adorable boy, standing in front of her. she would recognize his delicate voice anywhere but it’s the meaning of his words that reverberates throughout her entire being, brining a sense of warmth and comfort to her soul. dark brows contorting briefly, sheepish smile embellishing her visage. he makes her heart flutter, as fast as the wings of a hummingbird, missing a beat or two … peachy cream skin flushing uncontrollably, the way it always does when he approaches her. the apples of her cheeks painted scarlet. “i — umm …” she stutters, doe-eyed and captured all over again ( this time by something way more exquisite — her friend’s stunning emerald irises ), refusing to look elsewhere. she can barely believe that he’s talking to her. these words sound so different, coming from someone other than her mom and siblings, and for whatever reason have her shying away.

        yesterday, she spent the entire afternoon at the mall with her mom and sister, trying to fill the cart up with delicious candy and thoughtful gifts for her family. of course, she couldn’t forget about her one and only true friend. much to venetia’s displeasure, the curly-haired girl decided to spend all of her pocket money on this bailey boy. she bought a red willow basket and put all of her favorite sweets inside — lollipops, candy bracelets, marshmallows, razzles, gummy bears, hershey’s kisses, nerds, skittles, bubble gum, cotton candy. she also got him a coloring book and stuffed animal, a lion with a mane that resembles his own flaming locks. then, she tied a satin bow around the handle. she’s been trying to walk up to him and hand him this one basket ever since her mom dropped her off but she’s way too shy and worries that he may not like it. so, it’s tucked safely inside her locker, waiting for the right moment to come.

        “happy valentine’s day, bill !” erin finally chirps, finding her voice again. her features light up all at once as rosiness reaches the tips of her ears. it’s only now that she notices his extended hand, realizing he’s brought her a very special gift. “is it for me ? you — you really didn’t have to.” squeaking out, sounding more like a toy than a human being, she takes the paper hearts and carefully places them across her lap to marvel at them. her eyes are gleaming, twinkling like stars in unspeakable delight. “i love them ! they’re so beautiful and there’s so many of them !” definitely more than she deserves. clasping her hands together and bringing them to the side of her face, erin can’t possibly hide the sheer joy that lances through her features and adorns her every move. her heart is pounding, racing within the confines of her small chest as it’s the most beautiful gesture she’s ever seen.

        “what’s this ?” she asks softly, the corners of her rosy lips curving and forming a dazzling grin. her dainty fingers eagerly reach for the slip of paper, gaze landing on the big letters — HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, ERIN. her name written in blue ( how thoughtful ! it’s her favorite color ). doodles and artistic decorations framing the sign. she can feel her heart melting, turning into a puddle as an immeasurable amount of something that she can’t even name floods her chest and makes it difficult for her to breathe. blue eyes lifting for a brief moment, finding these unique emeralds and silently thanking her friend. “did you draw it for me ? all by yourself ? it’s so … aw, billy ! it’s the most beautiful card i’ve ever seen ! it’s my favorite !” she muses enthusiastically, deciding that not even the ones from the fancy stores can compare — they don’t mean half as much. she opens it slowly, handling it with utmost delicacy, as if it was the most sacred of her possessions ( which it is ). she gasps, utterly enamored as her gaze finds the precious drawing. she’s taking everything in, admiring all the tiny details for what seems like hours. there’s a blue sky and fluffy clouds, and then there’s them … both smiling. “my best friend erin. flower for you. thank you erin for bein’ my best very friend ! i hope you get a lot of flowers,” she reads out loud without even realizing that she’s doing so. her fingertip absently traces the lines on the paper, affection pouring from her heart. “it’s us ! it’s you and i ! you even drew my dress right !” elation radiating from her smile, butterflies swarming inside her belly.

        her nose begins to tingle annoyingly and she sniffs quietly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. she wipes them away with the back of her hand before looking up at her best friend. her best very friend. gracing the strawberry-haired boy with a pearly white grin, erin closes the card and hugs it to her chest. dainty arms wrapped around her frame, snuggling the precious gift and sheltering it from the world. “you … bill, it’s the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. thank you. thank you so much. it’s the best valentine’s day ever.” her voice is softer now, laced with emotion. she pushes herself off the desk, feet landing beside billy’s, and pulls him into a warm embrace. squeezing her eyes shut when their bodies collide clumsily and her arms envelop his neck, she has no idea that there’s more ( that he has cookies and flowers from her ). she’s already received the most beautiful, meaningful present ever. “thank you, my best very friend ! happy valentine’s day !” when she gets back home, she’ll ask her mommy to frame this card for her. she’ll put it on her nightstand so that she can wake up and fall asleep to it every single day.

[amorymordecai-blog]

When the Day Met the Night | Drabble

“--Mistress, she will not listen to reason.”

Amory smirked to herself as she admired her own reflection. Time in the sun had brought her freckles to the fore, a smattering of them shining like constellations on her tanned skin. Full lips were as naturally rosy as they were pouty, and her bright blue eyes shone gem-like with the depth of a crystalline ocean. Her long, auburn tresses were silken under her fingertips as she pulled a silver-toothed comb through the strands. Under the chamber’s lantern light she appeared just short of ethereal, though a lady of her station is well practiced in modesty and humility and would never confess to thinking such a thing of herself.

But she was far from blind, and even further from dimwitted. Amory was well aware of what she looked like, and the kinds of advantages it gave her. Even among her kind.

When the door behind her burst open, Amory didn’t lift her gaze from her reflection. She made no outward reaction to have noticed at all, just continued to run the comb through her hair, humming softly to herself as she admired how the soft tendrils caught the firelight. Behind her, however, her mother did not appear nearly as taken by her appearance. Clearly she’d built a resistance to it as Amory grew into herself.

“You are aware that your betrothed is waiting for you, are you not?”

The noise that left her was a disinterested hum. “Is he?” Amory made no move to lift herself from her seat or hault her ministrations. She simply selected another lock of hair to comb and glided the silver tongs through the smooth threads of auburn.

Without looking straight at her, Amory noted in the glass the way her mother folded her arms before her bust, impatience a weight in the room. “So your disrespect is blatant then?”

“Disrespect?” She finally lifted her gaze onto her mother, meeting eyes that were so similar to her own. A small smile pulled at a corner of her mouth before she refocused on her visage and dragged the comb through her tresses with an audible rake. “I fail to see how my making myself presentable for His Princeliness is a disrespect. I suspect he’ll be grateful for my efforts, since clearly the responsibility of making one is my burden to bear alone.”

An exasperated breath left her mother before the gorgeous vampire closed the space between them. Slender, commanding fingers wrestled the comb from Amory’s grasp and slapped it down on the vanity. “Amory, you petulant child.” There was affection in her mother’s tone and in her touch, even as she swiveled Amory away from the mirror and lowered herself down to her haunches to better hold her daughter’s gaze. “Have you any inkling how important this man is?”

“Has he any inkling of how important I am?” countered the pre-transitioned female, chin elevated, shoulders back, and spine straight. With narrowed eyes, Amory regarded her mother with a harshness that hid her uncertainty and hesitation; though the woman had a talent for seeing beyond whatever mask she donned. “I will be the one expected to bear him children, to carry our people and our bloodline. You may have promised me to him, but I will decide if he is worthy of such a prize. No one else.”

He mother’s vexation was obvious by the pinch of her brow, her amusement shone brighter than ever in her gaze. Though even that came second to the pride that hinted along the sharp angles of her too beautiful face. They could be sisters, her mother was so ravishing. “And how will you decide such a thing cowering within your bedchamber, sweet girl?”

As was likely her intention, Amory’s distaste flared at the obvious challenge. “I am not cowering.” When her mother raised an eyebrow, the young female shot up from her seat and smoothed out the silk of her gown. “I do not cower. He will enjoy my company as I am, or he is touched in the head.” Rounding her mother, she strode toward the door with confidence and grace in her elegant gait. Her mother’s pride was a heat that caressed her back.

Down the wending halls and a flight of stairs, Amory eventually found herself striding toward the dining hall. One of the estate’s servants bowed as he opened the door for her, and Amory didn’t so much as glance his way in acknowledgement as she strode past for the hearth fire her father’s men and the visiting envoy were sure to be gathered around.

She did not know how she knew, but her gaze was immediately drawn to the the dark haired man that stood taller than the rest. His eyes captured hers and held her prisoner as she approached. The world around them dimmed, all sound muffled with her approach until all she heard was her own heartbeat and the scream of her lungs as her mind lost the ability to summon her next breath.

Schooled to bored detachment, Amory’s expression gave nothing away of her body’s reaction to the man. Mumbled muttering was distant in the background, but something inside of her recognized that an introduction was being made. She offered her betrothed her hand, considering his build and stature with the same interest one might offer a horse… or a dog. Though the thought of riding him had her more partial to the former comparison, even as her expression lent itself to the latter.

Amory watched as the male bowed before her, lowering his lips to her delicate knuckles to press a kiss to the rings adorned there. If he said something she couldn’t hear it above the whooshing in her ears. “I suppose you will do,” she murmured, lips pulling back into a devilish simper that broadened when the man stood upright once more. “For now.”

[chocobostrinket]

Headcanon with the Chocobros and a s/o who has so many freckles. More than three Promptos would have together! (*whispers* Separate please ~)

FRECKLES. YES.

Noctis: 

He’d seen freckles before of course, Prompto was his best friend after all. But he’d never have seen SO MANY on one person. And they wore it well. 

On top of that, they were very gentle looking. So staring ended up being a thing.

They, as it turns out, were anything but gentle.

His S/o, before they were his S/O, would hold their head high and have a look on their face that DARED someone to mention anything about their freckles. 

They’d been made fun of a lot for how many they had. And now that they were older, they had learned how to shut up ANYTHING said about them. WITH THEIR FISTS. 

So Noctis staring at them so much made for a rather interesting introduction. 

They’d be very defensive over their freckles, so when he compliments them (Even after they’ve pretty much threatened to beat him into the ground if he said something negative about their skin) they’re more than a little thrown off guard. 

They tentatively became friends and that soon progressed into a romance. 

Years later, he’d stare staring at their skin again. 

In Insomnia, the freckles had always been faint, but on the road trip together they DARKEN considerably. 

Looking at the mass of speckles across their face and shoulders was entrancing to him, because there were just SO MANY MORE now.

Eventually, his S/O would have enough and be like, “Cut it out!” Oh they’d be embarrassed. They’re fine with their freckles, but with them receiving so much attention from HIM because of THEM again... they would get very flustered.

He would the first time around, just out of embarrassment, because he really hadn’t realized he had been staring so much. 

But later on he would be able to look away and just give up, staring openly and tracing patterns with his eyes. 

This would often lead to his S/O demanding he stop and him smugly pretending he didn’t know what they’re talking about.

But then, at night when they’re lying together in the dark, he’d be close enough to see the fainter ones, the ones just beginning to fill in, that cover their face.

Across their nose, their cheeks, on their eyelids. He’d even notice that their lips had some spotted across them. 

He’d think of how lucky he was that the person he loved has entire galaxies embedded in their skin. 

Prompto:

FRECKLE BUDDIES. 

Seriously, they just saw each other at school and decided to be friends just because they both had FRECKLES. 

It was such a silly thing to bond over, but oh well. They could both use a little silliness in their lives.

From trying to distract each other by jabbing the particularly big ones on each other, or tracing pictures with their fingers on each others arms, it was only natural that they’d become closer. 

When they do start dating, a running joke between them is trying to remember which ones they’ve kissed. 

Sometimes they name each other’s freckles. It’s always a sad day when one of them gets a scar/scratch. “Frankie noooo!!”

When on the trip together, their favorite joke to play on one another is playing connect the dots on the other while they sleep. With bright colors. Pink was his S/O’s favorite color to use on him, and his was green. 

The leads to a rule never letting EITHER of them take first watch or when they’re on watch, they have ONE other person with them.

They retaliate together by bespeckling the others in ‘freckles’ with a permanent marker. (Boy THAT was a day. Good thing they both have some pretty fast chocobos.)

Freckle contests are thing, with them both staying in the sun seeing if they can get anymore to develop. Prompto never wins because his S/O is absolutely covered in them.

They’re also absolutely good looking in his opinion. 

They still try and kiss each other’s freckles before bed. (something less silly and more serious is that for every freckle that’s kissed, they promise to tell each other a secret about themselves.)

Gladio:

They whine when he makes them take off their jacket and uncover their face. They wanted to stay out of the sun, thank you very much, because the sun made the “things” worse. 

But he’d worry they’d overheat and make them take them off anyways. 

They’d do it reluctantly, and when they do they reveal all the freckles strewn across their visage.

Adorned. They look like they’d adorned by the six themselves and they were EMBARRASSED by them.

That would piss Gladio off to no end, but not at them. No, he’d be pissed at whoever made them think their freckles were something to be ashamed of. Because they were damn beautiful, with or without the flecks dotting their skin.

So he’d be sure to tell them that while the freckles were in the open. Complimenting them left and right in small whispers that would absolutely make them blush to the tips of the freckled ears.

“You look like you have pieces of sunlight embedded in your skin.” “You look like someone painted the sky on you.” “Your freckles look like a gallery of art and I want to admire every single one.”

They’d reach for their face cover after awhile and whine again. “Gladio, please don’t be stupid, I look ridiculous with all these ugly...”

They’d trail off at the look he’d give them. And then he’d snatch away their jacket and face cover. It’s be them running around in the sun after him, as he’d darted away, and them cursing him to Ifrit’s side and back. 

They’d manage to catch up to him, but at the last moment he’d turn on heel and sweep them up into his arms. 

“I’m going to show you all the reasons you’re so amazing to look at.” He’d say as he starts poking their freckles where he knows they’re ticklish. “There’s one here, and here, and another...”

They’d screech and try to wiggle away, as he’d start to count every single damned freckle on them, all the while they’d be trying to deny that they were good looking.

Finally, just to get him to stop, they’d agree with him. After which he’d let go of them and they’d just sit on the ground where they were.

Perhaps they’d be a tad upset with him. But they’d know he was only trying to help. 

“...You know how hard this is for me.” They’d whisper, and he’d nod.

When they were younger, their freckles got them tormented relentlessly. Add in that they were the only child in their family with freckles, and considered ugly by ever their own mother, they grew up unaccepting of themselves.

And Gladio would try like hell ot change their opinion about themself.

Ignis:

At first, he wouldn’t know about his S/O freckles. 

They wore make up to hide them, and shirts that covered everything. Not because they hated them, no, far from it. They loved them. They just didn’t enjoy the attention they brought.

So when night falls and they’re getting ready for bed, they take off their makeup and just simply climb in and go to sleep next to Ignis.

And when he wakes up he nearly jerks away from them in surprise. It still looked like them, but HOLY SIX how did he not know about this?

They’d be covered across their collar bone, their shoulders, up their neck, all over their face. HOW had he never noticed?? (Don’t even get him started on the tattoos that create constellations out of their freckles.)

He’d find them absolutely breathtaking, and reach up to touch them, trailing his hand over their cheek. Which would wake them.

They’d meet his eyes and blink exactly once before flushing a deep red color, realizing why he was staring. 

“O-oh. You’ve never seen me without...?” they’d ask quietly.

“I haven’t.” He’d whisper. He’s kiss them very sweetly and cautiously, not wanting to startle them. “You look lovely with them.”

They’d just lay there, and he’d ask about the constellation tattoos and they’d answer, growing comfortable around him. 

But then they’d get up and start getting ready for the day, and they’d cover them again. For their own comfort. And Ignis would understand. 

Though, if they ever missed a spot he wouldn’t tell them with words, but press a kiss there. 

[heronot]

i don’t know which one i liked better so here’s 2 doodles of my bab