#(it's slightly more violet - not so blue everywhere)

[eleonorpiteira]

Acrylic gouache adventures! ✨

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you can’t shake the mixed feelings you have about satoru, but first impressions don't always reveal what a person is like

contents: crack? sashisu! dynamic. profanities. teen! gojo being cocky (what else is new?) second & third person pov

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

your first day at jujutsu tech was anything but insipid. the sun was at its peak, golden rays reflecting off the gray asphalt and dousing the foothills of mount mushiro in pure light. the wind subtly tousled your hair and the crimson torii gate cast shadows on your face.

summer, was indubitably your favourite season. it came with fun. smiles. laughter. adventure. meeting new people. and most importantly freedom.

the days got longer, school got shorter and you were typically free to do whatever you pleased. however, that wasn’t the case this year. the taiyo clan leaders had forced you to accept the offer to attend tokyo jujutsu high and you stood impatiently beside masamichi yaga —your new teacher — while you waited for your classmates in the courtyard

"sorry about this" he says sheepishly, running an exasperated hand over his face "i told them to be here as early as possible, but i can barely keep them in check”

“what are they like?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over your pleated skirt, “do you have a photograph”

“i do oddly enough, shoko’s into photography so she takes these polaroids of everything and everyone” he sifts around in his pockets until his fingers graze the crumpled picture. "these are your classmates — suguru geto, satoru gojo, and shoko ieiri”

your eyes skimmed over the three first years, the first boy had deep violet eyes and long black hair scraped into a bun. he rested his chin in the divot of his palms, his ear smushed against his lithe fingers. his black pearl earrings reflected the fluorescent lights. "suguru" the name checked out. he did look like he was famous

the second boy "satoru" was his polar opposite with fluffy white hair that defied all forms of gravity. he was slumped against the wooden table, blacked out sunglasses propped against his nose.his bright blue eyes peered curiously over the lenses. they were almost startling, something about their intensity felt like he could see everything, everywhere all at once

the girl "shoko", balanced them out with her brown chin length hair and the mole underneath her right eye. an ivory unlit cigarette was nestled between her plush pink

“they seem… nice”

“shoko’s the nicest of the three, she’s a sweetheart so you’ll get along just fine” he muses, “suguru is usually a gentleman compared to satoru. satoru’s too full of himself and he’s a terrible influence, please try to keep on the straight and narrow”

“i will” you said, shifting from one foot to another. you were very nervous about meeting your classmates— especially the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world. it almost seemed unreal that he went to the same school as you

hell, this whole thing seemed unreal. tokyo jujutsu high was bigger than you’d imagined. it was surrounded by the forests and was spread vastly over the mountain. there was no way you’d learn your way around.

you could see a figure approaching you from the distance. you figured it was ieiri, although her photograph didn’t do her enough justice. shoko was even more beautiful in person, her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders and curled around her ears. her eyes radiated sunlight, the colour of honeyed caramel and she smelled like jasmine and sandalwood. she waved at you, and you smiled in response.

“finally” he sighed, “ieiri what time do you call this? and where are those knuckleheads?”

"sorry i'm late sensei!" she says, bowing slightly, "i couldn't drag satoru and suguru out of bed, they stayed up late playing video games again"

"i'll have to confiscate the wii" yaga sighed, shaking his head before glancing at his watch. he seemed to visibly turn pale as he registered the time, "shoko could you take (y/n) on a tour of the campus?"

"aren't you supposed to be be the one doing that?” she asks, thumbing at the cigarette slotted between her lips, “not that i mind, i just hope you’re not slacking off again”

"kids these days," he mutters under his breath "i would be the one giving you a tour, but i need to head to kyoto for a meeting”

“if you say so” shoko hums, she squeezes your forearm gently before looping her arm through yours, “c’mon (y/n), you’re much better off with me anyways”

“funny” yaga deadpans, “i’m off now, try and introduce (y/n) to the others” with a final glance at his watch, he hastily makes his way down the foothills and out of sight

“i’m so glad we finally have another girl” shoko says, eyes twinkling, “you’re from the taiyo clan right?“

“yeahh i’m from the taiyo clan” you nodded. the two of you walked over the cobbled floors in sync until shoko came to a stop in front of one of the huge buildings

“can i take a photo for my album” she asks, plush pink lips moving around the cigarette slotted between them, “the uniform looks so good on you”

despite being reluctant to come here, you were glad the uniforms were customisable and yaga had perfected your requested alterations.

your asymmetrical navy blue jacket had the sailor suit style and a silky white bow hanging slightly above your chest . your jacket was tucked into a black skirt that hung above your knees, and you wore black knee-high socks and loafers.

“you can” you grinned, without wasting a mere second she angled her camera and attempted to capture your beauty to memory.

“i wish those idiots came with me, it would’ve been so cool to get one of all of us” she pouts, “you’ll meet them later, whenever they crawl out of their rooms”

she trudged nimbly up the cobbled stairs with splatters of fuzzy moss and into the traditionally built building you stood before.

“these are the classrooms” she gestures to the vast corridor lined with wooden sliding doors. some of them are pristine while the others have cracks lining the chipped wood

“there’s so many” you gawk, “y’know i thought jujutsu tech was really small, yaga said there were barely any students”

“it is really small” she laughs, “there are two second years and three first years, four now that you’re here. jujutsu sorcerers are rare so class sizes are really small. we only use two of the classrooms”

she slid the door to her left open, the classroom was filled with wooden desks and had a blackboard behind the podium you assumed was the teaching area

the windows were open and gusts of airy summer breeze wafted through the panes. you trailed in after her and noticed that most of the desks were upturned except three in the front row

“this is our classroom” shoko said, trailing her fingers over the desk in the middle. it had scribbled kanji and cartoony digimon sketches on it. “we come here for homeroom and regular classes”

“like math and science?” you asked, raising a brow. yaga hadn’t mentioned anything about formal education when he’d picked you up from the station that morning

“we do english too” she sighs, “it’s honestly such a pain. anyways, the school has training grounds, courtyards, dormitories, common rooms and a bunch of other stuff, what do you wanna see first?”

“the dorms” you hummed, tucking your hands into your skirt pockets, “they’re probably the closest to us”

essentially, you were right. the dorms were less than a minute away from the classroom block. the hallway was wide and had less doors than the classroom’s corridor. the wood looked freshly polished and cardboard signs hung on the sliding doors.

“so these are the dorms” shoko said, “they can be reorganized and decorated as you see fit. like the classrooms, there are many empty rooms”

you can hear the faint sound of heavy metal music and the sound of videogames seeping underneath the doors on your right

“the second years are further down the hallway” shoko says, “satoru and suguru are on the right and this is my room,”

she creaks the door open and you see a flash of pinky and earthy tones. it looks nice, although it’s rather messy. there are piles of clothes beside the window and old soda cans littered on her dresser

“i’m not really the neatest person ever” she giggles sheepishly, before sliding her door shut, “this room is yours, yaga put us next to each-other”

your hand rests on the doorknob, just as you’re about to slide it open you hear footsteps coming towards you.

your eyes fall on a girl with long blackish-purple hair in a traditional miko outfit. she seems mildly irritated and a girl with long blue-grey hair scraped into a ponytail trailed languidly behind her.

“shokoooo” utahime squeals, bounding joyfully towards her favourite first year. her long blackish-purple curls hang loosely in ringlets down her back and her brown eyes sparkled “have you seen that nuisance gojo?”

“no he's not out of his room yet” shoko said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “what has he done now?”

“what hasn’t he done” utahime muttered under her breath, “‘m gonna fucking kill him this time i swear”

“that so?” mei-mei chuckles, “quit swearing in-front of the new first year utahime-san”

“is this the new first year?” utahime asks, snapping out of her angry daze and finally her brown eyes flicker over to you, “sorry about that, that imbecile brings out the worst in me”

“(y/n) this is utahime and this is mei-mei” shoko says, pointing at them respectively, “they’re the second years”

“nice to meet you taiyo” mei-mei hummed, her red painted lips stretched into a lazy smile as she held out her freshly manicured hand. you took it tentatively. “do you mind if we join your tour ieiri?”

“i don’t mind but you should really ask (y/n)” she shrugs

mei-mei shoots you an expectant look, you reciprocate with a nod, “i don’t mind, the more the merrier”

“yes!” mei-mei grins, “i love giving tours, let’s go to the common room and get something to eat”

“can you make us pancakes utahime-san” shoko pleads, batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands together, “or french toast”

“i will, as long as that moron doesn’t get to have any” utahime says, cracking her knuckles, “when i get wind of him i’ll-”

“so the school mainly fronts as a buddhist temple, which is why it has the traditional architectural style and several statues of deities, shrines, and torii gates around campus” mei-mei explained, interrupting utahime who looked very bristled

the quirk in her eyebrow faded into nothing but pure bliss as shoko looped her arm through hers. the pair trailed slowly behind you as mei-mei transversed down the hallway and up the stairs

the rest of the morning is a slow sugary blur. utahime makes her famous pancakes and mei-mei happily explained jujutsu regulations to you while shoko showed you her photo album.

( it was a quarter full, with pictures of suguru and satoru goofing off or utahime and satoru in the midst of some altercation with a few rare photos of yaga sleeping)

“normies can’t see us because we’re hidden by a protective barrier held by tengen-sama, he lives under the school in the tombs of the star.” mei-mei says, after taking a bite of syrupy pancakes, “that’s pretty much everything you need to know”

“thank you for the pancakes utahime-san” you said between bites of fluffy goodness, “and thank you so much for the tour”

“don’t mention it” utahime grins, “consider this your official welcome to jujutsu tech”

the saccharine serenity shatters as satoru — and suguru — make their way into the kitchen. the blue eyed boy is still in his pyjamas while suguru’s dressed in what seems to be his uniform

“yooo” satoru yawns, “ouu hime you made pancakes? don’t mind if i do”

you peered at him curiously. was this the satoru gojo? the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world? he seemed like an ordinary teenager. gangly legs, pale veiny hands, white unkempt hair, and blue eyes hidden behind weird sunglasses.

he didn’t look like much, childishly swiping a piece of pancake off utahime’s stack and quickly stuffing the sweet batter into his mouth

“you have some nerve-” she grumbled, throwing her fork at him. it bounces off some sort of invisible wall and falls beside his feet, “be more polite to your elders”

“is this the newbie?" satoru asks waving her off, you notice him take off his round sunglasses and his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on you

“i’m pretty sure she has a name” suguru says, nudging him with his elbow, trying and failing to salvage what was left of a good first impression.

“the rookie from the taiyo clan?” he asks, raising a perfectly arched brow “is this the girl yaga was talking about”

he was trying to make headway of your face, to see what you looked like. he was unsuccessful, your eyes were trained on your pancakes and the syrup pooling on the blue ceramic plate

“it’s (y/n)” shoko sighs, “and you were supposed to meet her earlier but you two refused to get out of bed”

“sorry about that (y/n)” geto offers, his apology seemed genuine and heartfelt, “we were up pretty late last night, otherwise we would’ve been there”

you finally looked up from your plate and shook your head before flashing suguru a heart-stopping smile, “you’re all good don’t worry”

for the first time in all fifteen and a half years of his life, satoru seemed to be at a loss for words. he knew he should probably apologise and try to make you view him in a better light. but he couldn’t find the words.

not that it mattered now. you shot him an icy glare as you stalked past him and dropped your plate in the sink. he feels shivers run down his spine.

"i want to show you the morgue and the cursed warehouse!" mei-mei says, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “we can pick out a tool for you”

satoru’s cerulean eyes snapped to yours, he saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place passing through them. it didn’t look positive. he sensed aversion, dislike, maybe even hatred?

"see you in a bit" you wave to your upperclassman, and shoko and suguru as mei-mei led you out of the common room. the friendly gesture doesn't extend to satoru. he blinks. once. twice. and then he finally snaps out of it

"she's beautiful holy shit" he whispers incredulously, shaking suguru by his shoulders. then his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on shoko "i would've gotten up if you told me that"

suguru shrugged him off, “you’ve ruined any chances you had of getting with her, i told you you needed to stop being so rude”

“i can fix this surely” he sounds panicked, “do i go after them? or should i wait until she’s alone-”

"what an imbecile" utahime bursts out laughing , slamming her fist down on the table as she shakes with laughter, “can you believe him?”

“you’re too full of yourself” shoko says, shaking her head, “rookie? newbie? that’s really bad even for you i’m sure she hates you now”

“can you blame her?” utahime quips, “it’s only natural to hate gojo” she pushed her chair back and smoothed a hand over her neatly pressed clothes, intending to start on the dishes.

“hate is a strong word” suguru pipes up, pulling out a seat, “they just got off on the wrong foot, classic satoru”

“not you too suguru” he whines, pooling into a puddle of despair and anguish on the tiled floor

“so dramatic” suguru mutters, scooping an untouched pancake off shoko’s plate. they exchanged glances as they watched satoru have an existential crisis beside the counter. summer was going to be interesting

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[elsfairy]

E A R N E D I T - 𝐕 𝐈 𝐎 𝐋 𝐄 𝐓

Violet has always been obsessed with you. obsessed with how you present yourself respectfully, the way you’re so friendly, and your beautiful interactions with others. appreciates the amount of time you take to get ready in the mornings, even if you weren’t exactly planning to do anything besides spending the day with her. she was undeniably obsessed & in love with every single thing you did. you smiled? she’s silently swooning, pouting to herself, and thanking the gods for giving you to her at such a shitty time in her life. You laughed at one of her overused, yet somehow amusing jokes? she was falling deeper and deeper in love with you as those silent seconds passed the longer you let out that beautiful sound she so beautifully adored to hear. 

she loved you, yes.  

she was obsessed with you, yes. 

but like something everyone dealt with in their life, there was just one thing that took up too much of her mind when you weren’t around.

your hands.

those took up too much of her time when you’re out of the house & working. she loved to feel them in her hair after she herself has worked all day, and coming home to have those delicate, nimble yet long fingers threading through her hair? girl was putty in your hands. or when they brush her lower back during any friendly interaction when you’re introducing her to your co-workers and you’re so fuckin’ oblivious to notice her pink tint blushed cheeks, and how her pupils dilate ever so slightly because you’re simply just . . . touching her?

those innocent, playful thoughts of your hands would become more dirty the longer she was left alone in your shared bedroom, with just her own thoughts. how good those fingers felt tucking strands of hair behind her ear. how you slowly trace her stomach with them after a long day. how good they feel curling inside her cunt. but no matter how many times you ask her what’s on her mind recently because she’s so quiet and Violet is never quiet. always cracking a joke here & there. trying to get you to try some weird food she picked up from the store. she can’t ever find it in herself to tell you, afraid you’ll either judge her or laugh at her. 

of course, her secrets never work out in the best way possible and stay hidden forever like she always plans because not even 3 days later she’s got an even bigger problem. you’re staring up at her with those soft eyes, the same ones that hold so much love for her. one hand gripping her hip, nails digging bluntly into the flesh with such a grip and she can’t breathe because she can feel you everywhere. those kisses you left on her not even 10 minutes ago, still feel fresh against the supple skin of her neck. the spit you left all over her tits, still cold in the night. and you’re saying something but she can’t hear you because she’s too fuckin’ focused on the way your fingers rub at her sensitive clit.  those doe blue eyes hypnotized with them, afraid that if she looks away, she’s going to miss what you’re doing, but it’s so hard to control her urges, and it’s then that her voice breaks more than it usually does. “can i… please? just once..?”

she doesn’t see the way your face changes from happy to confused, nor does she notice the way your lips part at her sudden question because you don’t even have enough time to register how quick she’s moving for you. one minute she’s looking at your fingers then she’s wrapping her lips around the same ones that were only just rubbing messily at her clit. her quiet, subtle whimpers slipping past her lips, as well as her spit when the wet muscle of her tongue licks your fingers slowly, the taste of her still on you.

as much as you loved obident, rule listener Vi, you did miss when she was loud,  when she would quip back snarky comments about you not giving her enough or just overall teasing her until she was in tears begging for what she wanted. but right now, she was even more beautiful to you. eyes screwed shut, droplets of tears slowly forming and sliding down her cheeks. hand gripping tightly on your wrist, cheeks hallowed as she greedily lets you willingly fuck her throat with your fingers to the point she’s making even more of a mess. her blunt nails on her free hand scratching up marks on your stomach, and her hips stuttering due to your movements.

who would have thought, sweet Violet loved your fingers that much.

“good girl. yeah? taste so good don’t you, baby? keep going, you’ve earned it”

[potatomountain]

To Love A Monster Ch 1

Typhon

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: there will be potential triggers for anxiety and mental illnesses all throughout this story. Not all characters are nice at first.

AN: so here is chapter one! I'm super happy to finally post it :) this is a slow burn, and has a slow plot, focusing more on MC and her growth, so there might be some chapters that don't involve any of the boys at all just FYI. That said, I hope you will love this story regardless <3

This is a work of fiction, in particular Fan fiction, and in no way is this a representation or an accurate depiction of ATEEZ or any other idols/people used for this work.

Any feedback is always appreciated and adored! Comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist <3

Masterlist

next chapter

...

...

"What is wrong with you?"

People ask me that all the time and I would wonder the same.

I'm everything people warn their children about. Everything they are afraid of. They tell you to be a good kid so you don't get cursed by Typhon. Even after years of being around, people like me are still considered diseased, evil, cursed. If you interact with us, you'll have bad luck or you'll die or someone close to you will get hurt- or you're forever damned.

They're nothing more than superstitions, but ones people believe even after research has proved them wrong. Yet hearing it my whole life, it's hard not to believe it.

That I am nothing more than what they say.

Monster. Freak. Weird. Disgusting. Cursed. Mutant. Damned.

I've kept my head down, dying my hair a more natural color nearly weekly to cover up the unnatural blue violet the fine strands are. I wore sunglasses even indoors to hide the unnatural slitted pupils and bright flecks in my irises. Hats were my friend as they hid the points of my ears when I couldn't get them glued to a more human shape.

Even now, staring at the reflection of myself in the window, with all my inhuman qualities covered… I still felt out of place, and wished for nothing more than the earth to swallow me whole. Hell was where 'my kind' belonged if you believed the masses.

Most of the time I wondered if they were right.

The hushed whispers around me were normal, nearby tables in the Cafe watching with bated breath as I brought my teacup to my lips. Some sighed with relief, others in disappointment, as I had no fangs or extra teeth for them to spot. Even with the hat and glasses, it was still obvious I was not human.

"Are you wearing enough layers?" Across from me, my father was eyeing the hoodie and zip up I wore despite the late summer weather just outdoors. Those like me either ran too hot, or too cold, and were easy to pick out in a crowd.

I shrugged, setting the cup down and turning my attention to the distinguished researcher that was my father. One would think the look of concern in his gaze was one for his daughter, but no- he was simply concerned about his prized research. "I don't run that much colder, this is enough." Shifting slightly in my seat, I eyed the elder man behind my shades, tilting my head to the side. "Is there a reason you wanted to meet like this, instead of the lab, Doctor?"

He stiffened at the title, looking around as if anyone would be concerned with recognizing him when in reality they were too busy gawking at me. There was a reason those like me weren't common to see, no one liked being stared at like a circus freak everywhere they went. "I didn't want to talk about this in the lab."

"And what is it? That you want to talk about?" Confusion dripped in my tone. He may be my father but I could hardly recall anything fatherly he had done. Not like in the shows and books I've indulged in- or the typical familial relationships I see on the streets. He was my father in name and DNA only, but he only cared about the parts of me that weren't even human DNA.

Clearing his throat he stiffened. "Well… I hadn't mentioned it beforehand but I had been seeing someone, romantically, and recently I had proposed marriage…" He grew bashful, which I found unlike him.

"I don't see why who you date or marry is my concern, Doctor." I mumbled, looking down to my tea. "You and my mother had a strictly business relationship that ended once I was of legal age to move out." I continued matter-of-factly, as if it actually pertained to the situation.

He shook his head and leaned forward. "You are my world, Ty, so I want it to be your concern." His lips pulled into a smile beneath the freshly trimmed mustache of his, but I didn't return the smile. "In fact, I want you both to get along. As this is a personal matter, between father and daughter, that's why I wanted to talk to you outside of the lab."

Despite this being perhaps the most touching moment between us, I could only nod, bringing the tea up to my lips again.

Taking that as agreement from me, he continued on. "She is excited to meet you as well, so much so she wanted to invite you to dinner at our house. Tonight, at seven. It will be just us four."

He stopped when I bristled at his words, slowly bringing the tea back down. "Four?"

"Ah- her youngest son will also be joining us."

Suddenly tea didn't sound so good. I fought off the wave of emotion, the anxiety and fear that wanted to grip my chest and take full force. It was only due to a comment from the young kid at the table over I realized I had not done a very good job.

"Mommy… her cheeks are blue."

My father had heard it as well, and while normally he would take this opportunity to delve into the intricacies of my blood and what I was, this was not the lab and it was not the time. Gently he reached over, placing a much warmer hand on my cold one. "Ty?"

"I'll be there at seven… Dad." Clearing my throat I stood up, pulling the zip up hoodie closer over my chest and scurrying out of the Cafe with a quickness.

Out of habit I easily dodged the foot traffic outside the downtown Cafe, heading for the subway to head home. I hated this part of the city, but I was here once or sometimes twice a week for my father. I was lucky he allowed me to live in a more secluded apartment complex in a less busier part of the city, but really I didn't have much of a choice.

Not all apartment complexes would allow a Typhon to live in their building, even in one of the more progressive cities in the world towards Typhon's alike. Or maybe it was simply a capitalistic thing? With more and more Typhon's being born every five years, companies saw a new market to monopolize: Typhon's.

Not exactly fully human, there were plenty of human goods that were worthless to us. Contacts dissolved in our eyes, and hair dye would fade faster than normal humans. Typhon's couldn't mask their qualities until they were about ten years of age, but for those that had extra appendages or limbs- those stayed and made clothes and other products harder to find.

Our nearly all meat diet also was something to capitalize on.

My father was no different, a scientist that saw an opportunity of progress and he created one himself. He created me.

And yet I was the one who had to live among the other humans and try to pretend that I was one of them, even as I stood on the subway waiting in a marked spot just for Typhons as we weren't even allowed to share the same train cart as humans.

This world didn't want to accept me or my kind, and it had a harsh history of this prejudice. Only difference was that we weren't entirely human, and that seemed to just fuel the human's egotistical agenda that they were the superior race even more.

Stepping onto the train, I barely acknowledged the two other Typhon's already there, both on either end of the car. One was smaller and more bundled than I was, while the other was larger and more intimidating, not even bothering to hide the yellow eyes he had narrowed on my form. I sat between them, dead center of the car and pulled my phone out to mindlessly scroll on social media.

Some platforms were so full of anti-Typhon hate they weren't even worth going on, while others I just had to worry about the Typhon focused ads.

Ad after ad of targeted products or mindless propaganda, but I only really carried about the news. A habit I had picked up on, as whatever was big in the Typhon world would usually influence my father's research with me.

The U.S have begun their Typhon classification system based on the general Typhon qualities to decide government funding and shelters, as well as any harmful Typhon's to be isolated.

Great- as if Typhon's needed more separation and repression.

With 2023 just around the corner, the next Typhon year, the United Kingdom, as well as Japan and perhaps Korea, have cut prices and increased funding for more birth control to ensure less Typhon births and overall deaths in 2023. In regards to this, U.S have officially passed a federal law that allows all and any abortions during a Typhon year to prevent casualties of new mothers.

I stopped scrolling, staring at the article with a sneer. The first Typhon year had been 1988, the wave of immense and uncategorized energy that resulted in the Typhon phenomenon had been released during the summer. The second wave happened in 1993, in the late fall, and the third 1998, the summer once more. It was the third wave that had proved my father's theory of this phenomenon happening every five years.

And now people were using this theory as a means to avoid a Typhon child? I could understand, to an extent. Only half of the children survived the birth, the other half born Typhon, and most of the mothers died in childbirth. It didn't matter how far along a mother was, once the wave of energy engulfed the earth, within a week the mother was in labor and giving birth to a fully developed child or miscarrying in a nearly fatal way.

The mother's that survived usually ended up in poor health. My own lost her ability to have kids, and had suffered spinal damage and had to undergo physical therapy to learn to walk again. And that was the better side of side effects and survival.

Even so- to be that afraid, even governments and religions were putting aside all agendas in an attempt to prevent more Typhon's from existing.

Am I so wrong to exist?

If this news was anything to go by… yes I was.

It took everything I had to hold the tears at bay. I pulled both hoods over my head and lowered it despite the only two around being two more Typhons.

It was barely even noon and I knew today wasn't going to be easy, not if I had to deal with that dinner. I was already having a hard time keeping my mask up and my emotions from slipping through. With the added bonus of meeting who would be my step mother and step brother for the first time, despite only hearing about them this morning, I was sure of it.

Still, once home in my apartment, the heat cranked high enough I had no need for my sweaters, I curled into the nest on my bed and hoped some rest would balance my hormones enough for the already grueling dinner ahead of me.

. . ...........................................................................

I had rarely actually been to my Father's home, one of the nicer, more secure apartment complexes not far from his work. It was a building that monitored it's guests closely, and my father would always have to personally escort me from the lobby to his apartment. He was standing there, in one of his nicer dress slacks and shirt, with a strained smile at my own appearance.

I didn't like dresses, they were usually far too flimsy to keep me warm, but he had wanted me to dress up. The thick stockings kept my legs as warm as they could with the knee high boots, a thick cardigan barely kept me from shivering as I walked over to him.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a sideways hug. "There she is. Jisoo is eager to meet you, she even roped her son into helping with dinner. He's around your age I believe."

I simply nodded, letting him pull me towards the elevators as the security and front desk attendee both glowered at me. Out of habit I pulled my beanie down more, eyes downcast even if they were hidden behind the shades. The shades alone probably gave me away.

My father rambled on about his now Fiance, and it was the first time I had ever heard him talk so highly of someone who wasn't one of his team of researchers. By the time we reached his apartment I was already tired of hearing praises of the woman and her sons, which she had two of.

I couldn't imagine having siblings, how was I supposed to treat these two sons of hers if my father would continue to insist I get along with them? What were their opinions on Typhon's? Would they even want to associate with me?

My nerves were tying themselves into knots and I hoped I could keep the anxiety at bay long enough to have a normal dinner. Maybe I could delude myself into treating this as a family dinner.

"Don't be nervous, Jisoo is going to love you Ty, I promise." My father reassured me once more at his door, removing the hat and sunglasses and soothing down my cardigan nervously. His own nerves didn't help mine, despite his words of encouragement.

Once there was nothing more to fret over, he ushered me inside. I could never get over how grand his apartment was, his achievements plastered on the walls and all the awards he had won for his ingenious research into Typhons on display for any guests he might have. However I quickly noticed a feminine touch in the air, my gaze capturing several small things that just solidified it wasn't just his home any more.

"Jisoo? I brought her." My father called out next to me, motioning for me to step past the living space and head for the dining hall.

I stepped in hesitantly, biting down on my lip as I spotted the two new presences that would be constant in my life if my father had his way. "You two are just in time! We're almost done setting up the table." The woman in a nice black cocktail dress looked up from the other side of the table, her eyes locking onto mine and rooting me into place. She smiled wider, brightening her features in a way I was not used to being looked at. People didn't smile at me kindly, even my father's were often forced, so why her? "San dear, say hello."

The broad back that had been facing me turned at the woman's urging, but this time when his eyes met mine I got the reaction I was used to. He stiffened, stumbling away from me several inches until he was leaning back against the table, sharp eyes wide now like a cat's and the color draining from his tan skin.

I knew I looked like a human, in every aspect except the slitted pupils and brighter eyes, and the pointed ears. I forced a smile to try and ease his obvious discomfort, but he just snarled.

Yes, this was the reaction I expected.

"San! Don't be so rude!!" The woman leaned over and hit his shoulder a few times roughly, huffing her frustration. "I want you two to get along, you'll be step siblings soon enough."

My father ignored us both and moved around the table to wrap his arms around JiSoo's waist, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Let them be dear, they'll have plenty of chances to get close."

San shook his head, but he seemed to be composing himself as he stood up straighter and away from the table. "No one told me she's a Typhon."

"Doesn't matter, she's more than human enough." Jisoo whined at him before turning her attention back to me. "Please, sit, I have so many questions. Your father enjoys talking about you and his research often, but I want to hear about you-"

I hesitated, looking between the oddly sweet woman and the expectedly cautious son of hers. I could see the resemblance, and both were beautiful. Both were human. It was a sharp look my father sent my way that had me moving to take the seat Jisoo motioned towards.

"That's better." She took her own seat at the round table, my father to her right and my left, with San on the other side. I was well aware he had moved his chair a bit closer to his mother. He made the distance more obvious by scooting his plate even further from mine. "Now, a lot of these are heavy on the meat so do tell me if you like them. Your father says you don't have a particular favorite."

"That's right."

"Oh she can speak. Wow." Jisoo sent a glare in her son's direction at his comment, but he seemed to brush it off and moved to start eating.

Jisoo smacked his hand away. "Of course she can. She gets to eat first, stop being rude."

"Why does she get the special treatment?" I started to tune out San and his comments, instead reaching for the water to hopefully ease my nerves.

"Because it's her first time eating with us and I'm sure she is scared and even more nervous than you are."

I nearly choked on the water at her words, coughing as I set it down and pounded my fist to my chest a few times. It was enough to have three pairs of eyes on me the next second. "Sorry but… please don't concern yourself with me. Can we talk about something else? How did you meet Doc- I mean my father?"

Seemingly pleased with the topic change, Jisoo and the man in question shared a look. "Well for work. I contacted him about some of the research he had been doing about three years back. You see, I run Ty-Goods, one of the Typhon oriented supply companies. With so many products out there that aren't useful to Typhon's, I wanted to make products specifically for them so they could experience life a bit easier."

I turned my attention to my father but he was watching Jisoo with an expression of awe. "What was the research? And the product?" I turned my attention back to the woman, reaching for the first dish that caught my eye. I wasn't particularly hungry but if I didn't eat soon, San may glare a hole into my head.

Jisoo tilted her head in thought. "His research into their diet I believe. While it's well known meat is the primary part of their diet, I wanted to find other things. It seems most foods are edible but in small doses, yet he had expressed his interest in drinks. From what I understand, fruits are hard to digest? As well as heavy spices and herbs?"

I nodded slowly, thinking about that particular year. My stomach hadn't been too happy about all the things I was eating and drinking, and how detailed I had to describe every effect they had, both good and bad. However, his research in that regard had led to discovering a formula that helped make most of those foods digestible. "I can't handle spicy or heavy foods often. And tea I couldn't hold down… wait, you said Ty-goods? Didn't you come out with an entire brand of tea for Typhon's? It's even popular in cafes now."

Both Jisoo and my father beamed at my question, the former nodding enthusiastically. "Yes! I hear that you enjoy it often."

I thought back to this morning and nodded. "Yes, I have a cup every morning and one before bed."

"Splendid!" Jisoo took over the conversation the most as we ate, picking my brain over every dish I tried. It occurred to me that she was using me as a guinea pig for more products, but I didn't mind. Helping my father with research helped all Typhons, and if helping Jisoo with feedback supplied more Typhon-oriented products, I was happily giving my feedback.

She would also ask her son about the dishes, wanting to cater to both human and Typhon it seemed. The conversation stayed on that for most of the dinner, at least until we had begun to clean up.

I was once more caught off guard when Jisoo called out to me… by my name. My shock must have shown, her brows pulling together in concern. "I wanted to know if you would be more comfortable without the mask?"

Mask, or masking. A term used to describe a Typhon showing their more human side. It was also called glamor or camouflage but my father and those in the business usually referred to it this way.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I quickly shot her down, pulling my cardigan tighter around my torso. "You may be alright with the fact I am a Typhon, but he isn't." I pointed my chin at her son who hadn't really said anything towards me tonight making his aversion of Typhon's obvious.

San prickled at the turn in conversation, shaking his head. "And I wouldn't. Like hell I want to whatever grotesque-" He cried out as his mother hit him upside the back of his head. "Hey!"

"She isn't grotesque!"

"How would you know?!"

"I've seen pictures!"

The two began to bicker once more and again I tuned them out, focusing on trying to keep my emotions in check. However, that was easier said than done. I felt the mask slip with each raised tone and insult used. First my cheeks felt warmer, no doubt the light dusting of blue and intricate pattern of a deeper violet marring the skin there. I knew the pattern ran down the length of my back and thighs, the tingling of my now sensitive skin as it brushed against the fabric of the dress was becoming too much too fast.

My stomach twisted with nerves, their muttered whispers louder in my ears than they should be. Covering my ears, I whimpered and stepped back, reaching my limit. "Please stop."

Despite shutting my eyes, I could feel their gazes. Jisoo and her son both seemed to gasp, seeing the blue of my cheeks for the first time. "Oh wow- that's beautiful."

I couldn't remember ever being called that before, eyes shot open with surprise as I looked at the perpetrator. Jisoo was watching me in awe, hands pressed against her chest. But San? I expected disgust, yet I found none of it in his expression despite how openly he was gawking. He looked away first, mumbling something under his breath before grabbing the plate of dishes and scurrying off to the kitchen.

Jisoo and my father shared a look, and matching grins, before looking towards me. "There is one last piece of news we wanted to talk with you about."

I took a few apprehensive steps back, my spine tingling. "What is it?"

Jisoo stepped around the table, reaching out and motioning for my hands. Everything this woman did was throwing me for a loop, it just didn't make sense to me. Pure curiosity had me lowering my hands into her open ones, staring at the pale skin of mine compared to her tanned, the black of my nails a stark contrast. She gripped them tightly, drawing my attention back to her face.

"You see, San lives with me currently but I'm selling my home and moving in with your father now that we are to be married-"

I didn't like where this was going.

My father stepped up, placing a hand on her back. "I don't have the space for him, nor did we think he would like living with us. So… you have an extra room, we decided to-"

"To have him live with me?" I pulled my hands away from Jisoo's and instead pulled my cardigan closer. "When? For how long?" I couldn't help the quiver in my voice.

They shared a look, and I was already beginning to hate that. "Starting next week… and until we are married. We already talked it over with San, and agreed to get him his own place if he cooperates."

"Why can't you do that now?" Hissing, I took a few more steps back, resisting the intense urge to discard my clothes that were just too much on my sensitive skin now. "It's not just about a place to live is it?"

"We want you both to get along before we tie the knot, that's all." My father urged, but I could sense the underlying order.

This was another test he was doing, but this time it wasn't entirely for me. How would I manage living with a human? And could someone who clearly has a distaste for Typhon's warm up in close quarters to one?

This was all too much, yet I couldn't say no. My apartment was my father's. My life was my father's. I could only live as I did- because of my father.

My shoulders slumped and my head fell forward. "Okay… can I go now? This was… a lot. I'll have the spare room ready for San in time I promise."

I turned and left the dining hall the moment they both nodded, not even bothering to say goodbye to San.

I didn’t think he would want to. Besides, we were going to see each other much more than either one of us would like.

The entire way home I thought of the man with the broad shoulders and sharp features I could still picture twisted with displeasure at my mere presence. It was only due to my father’s message that I even had a time frame for how long I would have to suffer my soon-to-be step-brother’s presence in my home.

Nine months to a year… yet I didn’t think we would manage a week.

[featherburnt]

Just some Whitney the Bully HCs...

His hair, as I see it, is dissheveled and dirty blond with slightly lighter highlights, hanging over his right eye. He looks every bit the delinquent, complete with piercings and an unkempt uniform. His skin is also lightly tanned, a sandy shade, like he belongs on a beach somewhere, beside a bonfire.

His eyes are blue, but they almost seem...purplish, perhaps violet.

He smokes menthols. Everyone else hates them. 

I imagine he’s an extreme tsundere. Won’t ever say out loud how he feels toward you and, thus, resorts to relentlessly tormenting you, toying with your sensibilities until you’re pliable and easy - just for him.

He doesn’t share, doesn’t like it when anyone tries to touch you without his express permission, but he loves to humiliate you, especially when there’s a little crowd of people you know (people you don’t just hits a different note). 

He likes it when you go along with his awful antics, proving to him you’re his and his alone; He plays with you then, especially. You can never find him, but he can always find you, like cat and mouse, and he’s more than happy to bully you in the halls, mark you in the bathrooms, fuck you just about everywhere else.

He’s never as kind to you as you would like, but it shows in some of the ways he handles you, sometimes walking you home, petting or playing with your hair, throwing an arm around your shoulders or waist, talking about and to you as if you just might actually be his S/O, and even kissing you tenderly. It shows even more with how possessive he can be over you, cursing under his breath every time he feels the need to fucking mark you.

It’s a mark of pride, when you put on display just how much of a slut you are for him, when you hang on his every word.

Slut is really just a term of endearment, but he knows your name. Every bad thing he calls you - idiot, whore, bitch - is meant to get under your skin, but only he gets to call you these things, right? And slut’s his favorite for you; You take him so well, after all. 

He’s one of the only people who ever notices it when you’re not there, and it fucking bothers him. What happened to you? Where did you go? Did someone touch you, grope you, beat you, fuck you, hurt you without his permission? It eats him up inside, and he searches through town, meandering like he always does but this time with an unstated purpose. His friends don’t know, but he does. Only he can mess with you, right?

It’s rare, but... Sometimes, he apologizes to you.

Personally, I absolutely think he cares about your pleasure, often playing it off in that brash, cocky, mean sort of way. He can’t leave his favorite slut to go fantasizing about anyone else can he? Of course he has to please you, give you what you really want from time to time; He becomes more deliberate over time, but no less rough.

His friends are enablers, beholden to his outbursts and unpredictable behaviors, and he takes that and runs away with it sometimes, but there are moments even they are too much for him. Too wild, too mean, too...and he doesn’t quite know the word; Alll he knows is that, sometimes, he’d rather not.

[gigaroni]

Bonus info involving this "Screi Radiation" for the project.

it is referred to as the [LIGHT] in some logs, before the official name was coined, 4,000 years after the ancient impactor event which brought it to the Del-Col solar system.

A form of Ultraviolet light in the Deep UV spectrum, but with qualities never seen before. similar to a virus taking over a host, objects, creatures, and machinery subjected to SCREI radiation become unpredictable, erratic, and usually very dangerous, if they don't succumb to radiation poisoning.

The first ever audio recording of an object corrupted by this radiation was a set of cables nearby the crash site from the Ancient Impactor.

The first comprehensible "Notes" these corrupted strings played have been referred to as the "Four notes of the light". Any musician that attempts to make a track relating to this radiation usually includes these notes in some form or another in their music.

UV-S: the recorded corrupted cables near the ancient impactor, days later.

Extra info, along with how most of the music for project SCREI sounds below.

SCREI radiation can, for as of currently unknown reasons, be seen by the average human's visible spectrum. Showing up as either a deep violet, or a pale pink. This is best observed with objects corrupted with enough radiation to inflict a yearly's maximum dose of regular radiation in a minute, or higher.

below are some audio examples of how the recorded notes of the radiation have been integrated into tracks relating to objects corrupted by this [LIGHT].

Note: the Del-Col Icon (orange 3/4 circle with bright blue 1/4 circle) is used as a placeholder for until I get the icons for each world finalized.

Note: music for each world is meant to sound slightly different. Example: Iteruiat leans heavily into a more orchestral drum kit, while Bipotia uses a lot of ambient stuff converted into instruments, along with the regular metroid prime-like percussion.

Iterovian Automations - Battle against rouge automations on Iteruiat.

Time of the "four notes" leitmotif: 1:20.

Degenerate Reactor - Quark-Gluon Degenerate Matter Weapons Processing And Production Platform /// After spotted once. The four notes Motif is sprinkled in everywhere, and modified into multiple forms.

Note: Almost All Degenerate Reactor Tracks are meant to sound very similar, but invoke different moods. From quiet and tense, to Erratic and Chaotic, to High up, and on edge.

Sector TZ-851 - Degenerate Reactor upper floors. /// Calm / combat forms.

Information said at the transition point of track:

Alert: Entity has been detected within Sector TZ-851. Threat level has increased to G+. All Autos near entity: Offensive Self-Detonation Authorized.

Bonus: Concept art and renders of this "Degenerate Reactor" that uses the four notes so much, along with where it is on the planet Bipotia.

Bonus 2: the current full album track for the night side of that planet.

If you want to support my work on this project: this is how, down here.

[stormycs15]

⸻ Topside, Male Oc x Reader ⸻

chapter one: (Everywhere the light touches)

characters: female reader, Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor,

genre: fanfiction, Arcane

summary: Life has been hard for you're friends and family in the Lanes. Doing odd jobs to get by is second nature for you, but will one job topside really change your lives?

word count: 2669

Previous / Next

Your POV

I held onto the pipe I was climbing, hands sweaty as I tried with all my strength to pull myself up. The pipe groaned with the amount of weight being placed on it. Once I got to a good position I turned and looked around with hesitant eyes, I had to squint to see the extravagant town in front of us since it was a bright and sunny day. Looking down I noticed it seemed higher than I thought it would. Vi was taking us so high and I was newer to this so I felt like my actions were very clumsy and slow. I look up slightly meeting Violet's eyes, she nods down at me. I purse my lips and hoist myself up some more after gaining some confidence.

“We are almost there come on.” She grunts at everyone trying to encourage them and I follow her gaze looking down at the three underneath me Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. They all seem to be struggling to climb the vertical building. I just return my thoughts to climbing up the pipe.

“Aw, man!” I could hear Mylo groan not the happiest about this situation. I quickly ignore his complaining and I follow Violet up the rest of the wall. I get to the ledge pulling myself up with strained lungs. I get myself to stand looking in awe at Piltover. My breaths were heavy from the climb.

“Woah.” I could hear Powder say from next to me making me look over and give her a small smile as she returns. We barely got to see the top side.

“It’s nice to get above it all huh,” Violet says as my attention turns back to the clean trees and buildings that lay in front of us like an entirely different world. As everyone got up onto the roof a large blimp flew past us. I looked at the view in complete awe.

“One day I am going to ride one of those things.” Powder says under her breath in a determined tone. I looked at her with a smile, I knew how much she was infatuated with seeing the new world, as much as I was. I probably fed her fantasy a bit since I told her the stories my father told me. I placed my hand in her hair ruffling her blue locks.

“And one day I’m going to shoot one down,” Mylo says pointing a finger gun at it as if to shoot it down. But I just roll my eyes pushing his arm down silently. My attention was brought to Claggor as he looked over Piltover nervously, we weren’t supposed to be topside… Vandor made that very clear. Calin wouldn’t be happy either, more because we didn’t invite him.

“Vi you sure about this? If we get caught…” Claggor starts to say and I turn to her with a hesitant nod not liking the plan, because it would be more than just Vandor mad at me.

“We aren’t going to get caught. We will be in and out before anyone even notices. We have [y/n] after all.” She says going to the edge of the building looking for the town square trying to figure out where we were in terms of finding out our jobs location. I gave a nervous sigh letting it get lost in the strong winds that were flowing over the buildings. Violet looks to me with a nod and I step forward eyeing all of the possible paths on the way to our destination.

“How long is this going to take, I’m hungry.” I hear Mylo say from behind me, after another second passes I point in the direction of the town Square already having a path in mind. I turn to Violet for her approval and she nods at me.

“Alright then everyone, fallow [y/n]… and just don’t look down.” She says as I jump into action, sliding down the roof onto an apartment balcony. I stand on the poles of the balcony railing and motion for them to come one at a time. Violet comes down first leaping over the gap with no problem. I turn seeing Claggor about to slide down but Mylo brushes past him with a smirk making Clagoor roll his eyes following right behind. By the time Mylo lands on the one side, Claggor lands right next to him Cupcake in mouth.

“Couldn’t we have just walked?” I could hear Claggor ask from the other side of the gap.

“Gotta stay out of sight for this one,” Violet says looking back over at us. I am trying to get Powder to go next in case she fell maybe I could save her. But she is just looking down and taking deep breaths.

“Called it! This is on you Vi.” Mylo says referring to Powder and I glare over at the male.

“[y/n] can carry her over,” Claggor says motioning to me but Violet holds up her hand.

“No. Powder look at me! What did I tell you… you're ready. So you got this [y/n] will save you.” She says looking at me and I nod at her as Powder starts to get ready to jump off the roof keeping herself up with a small gasp, jumping over with ease she gets to the other side, only to come up shorter than the rest. I could see Violet's eyes go wide reaching her hand out but I sprang into action and leap over catching Powder before she could fall backwards. She looks up at my taller self giving me a thankful smile. Us three girls sigh in relief.

“Thanks.” I hear her say regaining her balance as we turn to the others. I just nod. As we walked I could see Mylo rolling his eyes at Powder and me. I reach my hand out shoving him back making it so he was walking behind Claggor. He was starting to get on my nerves. I start to lead them by shimmying along the edge of the rooftop. I focus on keeping my back glued to the wall leading the others.

“What if Vandor finds out we are all the way up here?” Claggor asks earning a few looks from the rest of us silently agreeing with his concern. I just keep moving knowing if I stopped now I would definitely turn back. I hear Violet sigh annoyed so I keep my mouth shut.

“Look around! Do you think anyone topside is going hungry? Besides, this is exactly the kind of job Vandor would have pulled at our age. He is probably sending Cal on missions like these. I’m going, are you with me or not?” She asks stopping and turning to look at them. I look down not wanting to look at the others. I could hear no protests so I stood my ground from the front as she took up the back.

“Vandor’s going to kill us,” Claggor says behind me, I nod at his comment. Even if this mission went well we were going to get a good lecture from the man himself.

“Only if we screw up… So don’t screw up.” She says with a stern look before turning to me and nodding. I return the gesture and lean forward before catching myself and landing on the balcony I led us to that sat underneath us. I look into the doors and listen… it seems like no one has been home.

“All clear,” I say to the rest signaling them it was safe to hop down. They start hopping down one by one. Mylo tries to open the door eager to get to work but is stopped when the handle doesn’t budge.

“Who locks their balcony?” He asks pulling out a lockpick and starting to do his thing. I turn and help Vi with getting the rest of our team down. Claggor and I look over the railing and frown looking at each other.

“There are a lot of enforcers down there.” He says and I nod looking for possible escape routes.

“That means we are in the right place. You going to get that door open anytime soon?” Violet asks turning to look at Mylo.

“Workin’ on it?” Mylo says aggravated, I stay quiet not wanting to put pressure on him. “Seeing as I'm the only one who knows how to pick locks, I suggest...” But as he’s talking Violet walks forward kicking the door open. Mylo flinches back not expecting her actions. Claggor brushes him as he walks into the apartment after Violet, powder following them.

“Animals…” He says turning to me and seeing my hand outstretched to him, He grumbles taking it. Helping pull him up before entering ourselves. I look around furrowing my eyebrows, this place seems fancy but things were laid in a very hectic order. Everyone soon disperses looking around at the place.

“Y’know Claggor, for once you’re right. We are definitely not supposed to be here.” Mylo says with a grin on his face as he admires the place around him greedily rubbing his hands together before he starts to look some gadgets over. I looked around at the books on the shelves not seeing anything that caught my eye. I find a few gadgets on a small table examining them before shrugging and tossing them into the bag in the middle of the room.

“Must be an inventor…” I hear Violet ask and I turn to see a huge chalkboard filled to the brim with equations and blueprints. I looked closer trying to see if there was anything I could understand. Seeing a book on the desk next to the chalkboard I pick it up and start flipping through all that was written down.

“This man is either crazy or a genius,” I grumble reading the hypothesis and outcomes he wrote down. I could barely understand anything scribbled on the paper.

“Whoa, I think this is a real Valdiani.” I hear Powder say with excitement, I turn to see a small object in her hands, it opens and plays a small jingle. I gently close the book in my hands but still hold onto it going to her and admiring the delicate invention.

“Oh, yeah? What about this?” Mylo asks with a smirk looking at an invention thinking he found something.

“That's a nose hair trimmer.“ I say with a giggle as his face drops at my words.

“Keep an eye out for anything that looks valuable, Powder. Before the boys fill the bag with junk.” Violet says making me chuckle reopening the book reading it and wondering if I should bring it with us.

“Uh... guys?” Claggor comments bringing my attention to a mechanism on the desk covered in papers. I blinked looking at the blue stone placed in the middle. As I walked up to it with the others I could feel my hand moving on its own.

“Wait, Vi… How the hell did we find this place?” Claggor asks looking at the pink-haired girl. As my finger got close to the stone I felt a zap and wince pulling back my hand and holding it feeling the tingling shock as it went through my body. But I didn’t dare look from the blue stone.

“It was a tip from Little Man.” I hear her say and I roll my eyes.

“Little Man?” Mylo asks in disbelief that we took a tip from the small boy.

“Just leave it. C’mon.” She says harshly finally breaking me out of the small trance I was in even though my eyes still looked to the small blue orb. I shook my head returning to looking around the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Powder start to walk down a hallway.

“How can anyone have so much stuff?” I hear Claggor ask, I start to follow Powder overhearing their little conversation.

“Simple, just get born lucky.” I hear Mylo say making me huff amused rolling my eyes. As I get to the hallway I see papers pinned to the wall. I look at them starting to understand what this person could be making. As I get closer to the room I can see Powder opening a chest filled with the same blue stones as the one I just saw. As I am about to get closer I hear footsteps making me freeze and walk back to the others.

“Psst.” I hiss quietly at them and Vi turns to me with furrowed eyebrows. I nod at her urgently and she frowns looking over at me.

“Mylo.” She says quickly making him sprint into action, I run back down the hallway as Mylo puts the chair up to the door handle.

“Powder we got to go!” I hiss making her flinch grabbed the stones and ran after me as I started to tidy up some things so it didn’t look so messed up. I help Vi get the stuff together but as I am getting her up with the bad an explosion erupts through the apartment making us fly across the room, I hit the bookshelf and fall to the floor, and I groan latching my hand to my stomach. I push myself up and see Violet already next to me ready to help me out. We have definitely been found out now. The balcony starts to give way and I help Vi make sure the others are secure on the balcony before we hear screams from underneath us. I silently swear and stare at the place I was standing with Violet now gone crumbled on the street floor stories below.

We jump into action starting to run, because if we didn’t start to move now we definitely would get caught. I look to Violet seeing her motion for me to take the lead and I don’t waste a second taking the lead to guide us out of Piltover. I could hear Enforcers behind us yelling at us to stop as they started to run after us. I quickly turn a corner motioning for the others to follow me. I could hear them getting closer and I turned another corner feeling more confident getting closer to the underground. I ripped off the sewer lid and motioned for them to get in.

“Oh man not again! I just got this shirt!” Mylo yells as Violet kicks him down the disgusting shaft. Claggor follows then Powder and I follow after, Violet not too far behind me. I get to the bottom and land on my side earning a hiss from my clenched teeth.

“I thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this,” Mylo complained and I rolled my eyes shifting into a sitting position.

“Well, this time's the last time,” Vi says harshly starting to get annoyed with the boy’s complaints.

“Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?” Claggor asks before everyone turns to Powder and I, I furrow my eyebrows.

“I don’t know… I didn't do anything.” I hear Powder defend.

“Yeah c’mon, we all didn’t expect the owners to come back so quick,” I say earning an eye roll from Mylo. My face falls and I clench my fists.

“You could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do.” He mumbled and I stood up ready to knock some sense into him.

“Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses,” Vi says gathering everyone's attention, everyone smiling but me. We might have done that, but we got caught in the process… There would be no doubt that trouble would come for us. Or be waiting when we got back to the Lanes. I sighed shaking my head walking out of the trash shoot out into the underground.

[twilight803]

Twisted Wonderland, Sebek is a male MC who is a fae but rejects fae culture as he was raised by humans when his biological parents abandoned him.

I'm going to attempt to write male x male, it probably won't be good but I'll try😭 also there is tons of SPOILERS FOR UP TO CHAPTER 5 SO DONT READ UNLESS YOU DONT MIND THE SPOILERS and I accidently made it NB mc

Sebek Zigvolt with a male MC who is a fae but rejects fae culture as he was raised by humans when his biological parents abandoned him.

When You were born, your biological parents had ended up abandoning you, leaving you for dead at a very young age. After your parents left you there, you then got found by humans, these humans raised and took care of you. But even though you were born a fae, these humans showed you love and compassion as if you were their own. You realized you would outlive your adoptive guardians, you had grown to care about them so much, it made you very upset to think about but at the same time the beauty in their short lived lives is so grand, and makes you appreciate them even more so. Growing up being raised by human parents made the fae come to reject fae culture as a whole, you were taught that fae and human are equals, you use technology unlike most of your kind. But at the same time you aren't as strong with your magic as most other faes are, because you didn't grow up with everything having to use magic like in Briar Valley. Then suddenly you woke up in a coffin as per tradition of Night Raven College, you didn't remember being taken by the carriages to the prestigious school for young mages, you had woken up to a raccoon dog trying to steal the clothes you were wearing at the time. The raccoon dog was calling itself "The Great Grim", and spitting blue fire everywhere, even though you know you had enough magic skill to fight it off, you just decided to book it instead. Running and running, you didn't recognize anything you ran by, but knew that you probably shouldn't stop running. Eventually you ran into a huge library with tons of books floating in the air, you saw the first person that wasn't a raccoon dog, then suddenly the person had stopped Grim, saving your butt. The person who saved you, then told you he was the head master of Night Raven College, his name was Crowley, and that you have to keep your familiar in check, which you had told him that 'The Great Grim' was not your familiar but he kept insisting that it was your familiar. Crowley dragged you away back to the entrance hall where there was this giant mirror and tons of young looking people in ceremonial robes that are black and deep dark violet. Then out of the corner of your eye, you saw this boy with light green hair that reminds you of lightning and eyes of striking emerald green, he had such fair looking skin, ears as pointy as a sword, this boy had a stern and slightly optimistic look on his face. He had noticed your obvious gaze at him, and stared you directly in the eye, Crowley knocked you out of your embarrassing stare with the light green haired boy. Crowley pushed you up to the big mirror, then the mirror had said it none of the current dorms fit you, then everyone went quiet, too shocked to say anything, Crowley then asked the mirror again and it said the exact same thing. You explained to Crowley that you could do magic, all while taking peeks at the light green haired boy who you swore was staring at you, then you realized he too was a fae, those pointy ears, the fair skin, and the fangs he had when he would open his mouth. After Crowley finally understood that creature wasn't your familiar, a short, red headed boy, and a boy wearing glasses, had stopped Grims chaos by collaring him and throwing him out. Crowley rushed you over to an abandoned looking building, it was called Ramshackle but it was such a mess, it didn't even seem livable, then again it was better than being sent back home. Once Crowley had left, you had started cleaning up the dusty dormhouse, that raccoon dog looking creature that calls itself Grim had showed up once more, and forced his way in wanting food and to go to school there.

**Timeskip**

after Leonas overblot, You saw that light green haired boy again, and saw how he was talking down to humans like he was better even just because of his race, it pissed you off in some way because humans raised you, they were kind to you so you went up to the fae with light green hair, then you tried to get him to knock it off and stop bothering the poor human mage, told him faes and human were equal. You found out his name was Sebek by the white haired, prince charming looking boy. But sebek was confused and surprised that a fae thinks human and fae are equals, Sebek thinks humans are way inferior compared to faes, and he argues with you on it, and starts bringing up "WAKASAMA" and how this 'WakaSama' is so much better than you and humans. But Sebek still has respect for you as you saved Malleus from Leona and Ruggies antics. So even though you guys have your differences Sebek is starting to like you enough to atleast show some respect for your opinion.

**another timeskip**

After Vils overblot, you finally now know to your surprise that Malleus is your nighttime friend, and you see why Sebek worships Malleus so much. But still your opinion hasn't changed, and you meet up with Sebek again in the cafeteria you and him start talking about Malleus. When Sebek finds out you're friends with his master Sebek is SHOCKED I mean his master with you, but he started to like you even more, he started blushing around you, shouting more around you in excitement, and getting flustered easier in general. Sebek decides to tell Lilia about how he feels about you, how he respects you, wants to worship you, wants to understand you and your opinions, Lilia tells Sebek he's in love with you, Sebek can't accept that he's in love with you, but Lilia hammers it into him, and gets him to try and confess to you on your next meeting with him. Sebek is flushed all day and waiting for the next time he sees you, luckily Lilia told him to confess his feelings in private, so once school was over Sebek found you outside and whisked you away into the Ramshackle dorm. You are so confused but then Sebek looks you in the eyes and you stare back into his emerald green eyes, then Sebek finally broke the tension and said "MC I really like you, you're so resilient and determined, you overcome all of the bad things that happen to you like overblots, and I want to know how you feel about me, I need to hear your perspectives, the way you feel things, I want to understand you, I want to be with you." You were so shocked that Sebek had a crush on you but you weren't gonna turn him down, so you said you wanted to date him aswell, and that your happy he didn't bring up Malleus during his confession. You and Sebek stood in the Ramshackle dorm for a bit after that and then Sebek asked "Why do you reject the fae customs, you say that humans and fae are equal, but why?" Then you tell Sebek about your past, how your biological fae parents abandoned you, and left you for dead, that humans took you in and raised you, and they were your adoptive parents, how they taught you growing up that humans and faes are equal. Humans treated you with respect and kindness, showed you love, it's something you believe and it's hard to shake it. Sebek understands where you're coming from, probably isn't going to change his opinion but he might act a little bit differently in a respectful way to humans. Sebek is willing to see it through, because its from you and Sebek loves you!

(THIS IS SO CRINGY LMAO)

ITS SO BAD AND I ACCIDENTLY MADE IT NB I THINK😭

[ofstormsandsaints]

Past Fashion in the Demon World - First Bloods

Reminiscence of the past

Let us be clear: the founder race is dying.

Their previous king's sanity had declined past the point of denial.

Didn't even try to save his people.

The mad king's overthrow - was planned by collective force.

The war. the End. the plague of the land.

And those still alive, erased from memory and then eaten away by the disease. Locked and sealed in the dark.

Vomiting blood and bitter regret.

Like the Great Roman Empire - Idleness and Decadence led to their downfall.

The war had ransacked everything. Every element of the past, of the golden age of the Ancestors. Endzeit took the living and left only meaningless trinkets of memory.

Burai kept some of those and even more: Menae's dresses, some of her jewellry...

and a daughter as the hidden remaining evidence of an ancient time. An ancient world he had conquered.

The two last remaining Founders. First children of the Moon

Today protect body and soul, the last bits of their glorious heritage.

The founder race thrived in the centre of the demon world

cold, dry winters

quite pleasant summers and mid-seasons full of soft colours.

mountainous land (not to the level of the Adler's but still high enough so they could get fresh gusts of wind), they towered over the other territories.

Their hegemony was supreme, at first even quite brilliant. They were self-sufficient, feared but respected.

Not the slightest interest in human civilisations. For them, humans were slaves, food, and entertainment.

At the top of the hierarchy, Founders were the reference of good taste and what was fashionable at the royal court would be in vogue everywhere else.

due to similar weather conditions, some elements of the First Blood fashion could be compared to a strange mix of old European apparel.

which is crazy because the timeline is so fucked up we don't even know where to situate the founders existence in human history because they were ahead of their time: from the clothes silhouette to the fabric used and the skills of their tailors.

Let's dive into blood into a 'brief' description of founders' fashion.

Aristocrats' clothing. Because like everywhere else, the world doesn't seem to care about how the commoners would dress. We prefer rare silks and gold over anything.

But the shiniest stars are always the dying ones.

Anyways-

male fashion

can be sum up in four points :

18th-century "habit à la française" (I'm french but I only read it with a fake British accent it's terrible)

Imperial Russian court and military uniforms

Alucard from Castlevania (especially the one from 1997)

and Bloodborne

what? I should develop?

the 18th-century/Alucard style. soft ruffled shirt, large embroidered silk cravat, heavy linen pants with high leather boots sat on top, again a goddamn cloak...on top of a pirate coat-

founders men were responsible for the "romantic vampire aesthetic" but Karlheinz will never admit it.

they liked form-fitting clothes, slightly tight on the chest because they wanted to accentuate the strong lines of their necks and outline their shoulders to make them look broader.

yeah they're insecure like that😔

overcoats heavy with wealth.

it could be brown, it could be blue, it could be violet-You see what I'm doing here.

some buttoned, some buckled but all embellished with stitches of silver and gold

long hair was a genderless preference.

Well. Women were expected to keep them long because blablabla women and feminity blablabla but for the men who chose to have long hair (like Carla) it was perceived as a sign of power??

like they considered that you have to be particularly deft or confident in your magical abilities to be able to fight with long hair (they're not particularly wrong though)

but I prefer to think that they liked long hair because it contributed a LOT to their dark romantic aesthetic.

anything for the drama.

female fashion

a glorious mix of 18th-19th century russian court fashion and... 50s old hollywood dresses. (don't ask me, they're stylish and visionary)

beautifully designed, from the delicate shape of a butterfly sleeve to the way it embraced the line of the shoulders

distinguishing and elegant, the off-shoulder elongated the neck and the low neckline was lined with small almost-transluscent pearls and silver threads to capture the light and make their skin radiates under the fine diamond necklaces.

corsets obviously but we are far from the killing corsets Cordelia could wear to have one hell of a waist. In comparison, they were comfortable (again, their tailors were that good)

silk opera gloves, sometimes lacy ones to match the men's stupid shirts 🙄

layered skirts but not the bulky type (not the Empress Sissi style). Founder women didn't like the ballooning silhouette and found it unattractive as it didn't do them any favour.

preferred drawing attention to their waist and cleavage but also to their height.

skirts had to compliment and accentuate the length of the body as the First Blood women were taller than most female demons. (well see Cordelia. She's the tallest among the three wives and I suspect her to be actually quite 'short' for a founder woman.)

their silhouette is almost fae-like: lithe, lean and strong despite being overprotected and confined to that castle 😔

so the skirts were long, organza or taffeta draped the main skirt to give some dimension to the dress - no crinoline. maybe a bustle to add a little to their hips and bums

because the Founders can only be killed by decapitation, they provocatively exposed their necks a lot in their clothing style.

open ruffs (like a smaller Medici collar), off-shoulder, v-neck or sweetheart necklines...

Fate being a cruel mistress, this small game of silent provocation was definitely not what caused their ruin.

But you know what happened.

Now most of these lavish gowns and sumptuous coats are just crumbs of inspiration from an old system, left to be pecked.

[redolentgrove]

An Unexpected Bloom

August in Redolent Grove. The temperatures were relatively warm, though not impossibly hot like some portions of Unova had become. It was the middle of summer, so this was essentially as bright and hot as the are would get for the year, and would slowly drift forward into a cooler, more crisp air.

Loki sat in a flower bed dedicated mainly to the blooms that happened in the summer season, surrounded currently by patches of zinnias, many of them sharing Loki's violet hues, but also ranging from pink to white, and everywhere in between. The rainbow Loki had been cultivating was almost as vibrant as the Skyfeon-taur herself, smelling delightful and filling her with pride that would have rivaled any June parade she could imagine joining as a marcher, perhaps even moreso.

A curious scent began to fill the air surrounding Loki the longer she worked. It was familiar, certainly; it has mainly overtones of azaleas but also hinted at the presence of dahlias. She could understand the dahlia hints, with those also being a beloved summertime flower for her. But the azaleas? No, those tended to be more springtime blossoms, not that she would have complained. She knew many of those could flower even as late as the autumnal months, amongst the falling leaves.

Loki, at this point, also recalled those two flowers being favourites of a certain fairy-type Pokemon in her life, although… the strength of said aroma now seemed much stronger than ever before. As if whoever carried it, they had grown in size since last she was them. She immediately recalled letter correspondence with a certain someone, suspecting that very special Pokemon may have come to visit now. The hybrid stood to her full height, then ventured a brief turn, the corner of her left eye catching sight of a familiar muzzle, one belonging to a fellow Eeveelution.

"…Celeste?" came the ventured guess, though the taur didn't initially look at the vistor's entire body. She didn't have to; she recognised most faces almost immediately, even at almost a halfway glance.

"Hi, Mom," came the nervous reply.

The voice confirming Loki's suspicions earned her entire attention at this point. Loki's eyes now fully locked onto the other Eeveelution's. She was a Sylveontaur, one that appeared to be somewhere just under a foot shorter than the hybrid heself. Her eyes widened briefly, before she gave this 'Celeste' a wry grin, approaching carefully to avoid scaring the fairy-type.

"So much for swearing up and down that you'd never touch a tauric form again, huh, kiddo?" That sparked a bit of a bashful murmur from the Sylveon's maw, though it was soon followed by a slowly-forming, gently inviting smile.

"Of all the things I could have ever guessed you to become, I'd have lost the bet entirely if I'd ever claim you of all 'Mons would ever become a taur." Loki paced around the younger taur, casually chuckling and murmuring with each step she took. Following a couple of rounds, her amethyst eyes met Celeste's baby blues. Unmistakeable, and unchanged even with the extra limbs. Loki's internal thoughts completed themselves, and the hybrid stepped forward to hold her daughter's hands in a loving manner. "This is new! I thought you told me in your last letter in February that you hadn't done much since the last time you came to visit me a decade ago! When'd you join the six-limbed side of life?"

Celeste's ears folded back slightly, before perking forward as she leaned forward and smacked her head up against Loki's snout much like a pet cat would, in a firm yet loving nuzzle. "Mom, considering that you've been a taur for about… oh, all but ten or so years of your life, I didn't think this counted as much. I mean, not in comparison to anything you've told me has gone on here." She had dodged the main question, at least for the moment. And though she lolled out her tongue in defiance, her twin tails wagged to betray any semblance of grouchiness her expression might have suggested. "Speaking of 'doing much,' where's Bijoux? She graduated this year, right?"

Loki nodded casually. "Yeah, she graduated back in May. She starts going to Harmonia University here in September. Anyway… I'm not sure where she's gone right now. I saw her earlier this morning, getting ready to practice her harp playing for a big gala performance. She and Cascade said that they found a good place to work on it, and apparently with me being a mythical, I'm not allowed to listen in on the song they've chosen."

The Sylveontaur chuckled at the last remark. "Maybe she just likes surprising you," she quipped, her eyes trailing over the garden clearing, familiar to her and yet, strangely foreign with the passage of time changing smaller things about it. She let go of Loki's hands. "I didn't know Bijoux played the harp! I wonder if she'd let me play along on my ocarina if I asked her.."

Loki shook her head. "I didn't know about she did either," she countered, "at least not until earlier in the week. Turns out she's spent about five or six years working with it and didn't tell me because she didn't want any more pressure on her shoulders. I guess it was hard enough for her to work on her voice training, let alone adding an instrument into the fold."

"Mmm." Celeste had only been casually listening, having taken her ocarina out from a sidesaddle travel bag, now inspecting the blue-painted wind instrument. "Are you sure it was just the voice training and not the fact that she was dealing with all of her gender issues? I seem to remember you weren't exactly the most friendly and talkative for a few years when you first transitioned."

A laugh escaped Loki's snout, despite herself. "Okay, okay, point taken… Bijoux already grilled me enough for that promise I made her keep to perform a solo and I paid for it with her taking 'Safest Place to Hide' straight into my heart to try and destroy it during the March talent show."

The Sylveon's eyes widened at that remark. "Whoa," she growled, recoiling slightly. "She chose that as her solo? In front of other people??? Look, I can understand her wanting to dedicate a solo to you. But that one? That song was basically a baring of your entire soul in musical form! I heard you singing it a few times to Dad and then after he passed; I've joined you in singing it a time or two, even, to help you not feel so alone, during some of those tougher moments. But that was all in the privacy of our home! I've never gone out and sung that in front of a public audience! I'm shocked you didn't lose yourself and try to exile her afterward!"

Loki's ears flattened further. "Right?? It felt like such a deep-cut of a betrayal… and if I had said anything to her the night she did it other than 'we're going to be discussing this later,' that might have actually been what happened. No, uh, I grounded her for a couple weeks; even that was overdoing it. I was… fortunate, not to lose complete control and try to throw her out of the forest. I would have spent weeks regretting it and searching all of Unova finding her and bringing her back home. Not to mention, I think our relationship would have been permanently ruined for it…"

The fairy type shrugged her shoulders with a surprising casualness. "Maybe, maybe not. If she was anything like Dad was, or any of the other Aniseeds I've known, you would have found a way to repair it. It might have taken you a while and been a fair struggle in the process, but you'd find a way to rebuild that burnt bridge."

"I doubt that." Loki's ears perked with a slowly forming smile. "But I appreciate the confidence you always seem to have in me. It's too bad that the…" Loki paused, counting on her fingers for a bit. "…oh, fifty or sixty or so other boyfriends and girlfriends I've had since Shijima's passing, didn't have such irreparable damage from life being the way it was. From death, distrust, differences of opinions… my track record isn't nearly as spotless as you sit there and hope that it would be, sweetheart."

Celeste playfully blepped out her tongue. "Sweetheart… you know, you've been calling me that for centuries and it never gets old. Dad was always right about that much; bless that term of endearment." Her ribbons twirled alongside her cheeks in thought. "But really… those are moreso partners. You've been blessed with so many generations of children, grandchildren, great-grandkids, grandkids so great you lose track of how many generations down the line you'd dived…" She nodded. "You've been nearly perfect at being there for them, and even with the mistakes you've made, you always found a way to patch even the deepest mental wounds."

Loki seemed slightly bashful at that notion. "I don't know what to tell you. It's weird; I've always had better luck talking to my children than I have my partners. Shijima was just the exception to the rule." The hybrid let out a long, heavy sigh. "Look, I… don't want to talk about it anymore. It's starting to get depressing, and I don't want to dampen what's supposed to be a nice visit with my oldest biological child. One that seems to have become a dedicated beacon of love and joy even when I feel my lowest."

Celeste blinked at this, but held out her hands to brush against Loki's, offering a gentle purr and a warm smile. "Okay," she replied, "but whether you like thinking about it or not, we're going to finish this discussion at some point before I go home." Her ribbons now gently patted the tops of Loki's shoulders. "But yeah, uh… what else is there? As much as you kept that performance Bijoux made out of it, your last letter in June mentioned that you'd met a 'Cascade.' Who's she?"

The hybrid relaxed slightly at this point. "Cascade? She's a naga. A Dragonair one. Not a lot to say about her; she moved into Redolent Grove just after Bijoux's graduation ceremony. I don't know her all that well, just that I kinda had a crush on her." She shook her head. "Well, okay, that's not fair. I know she and Bijoux get along well, and she's clearly good with children. She's still a bit of a mystery other than that, but I know she's straight. At least the rejection was gentle."

The fairy-type giggled heartily. "You haven't changed a bit," she teased. "My Mom, the hopeless romantic… I swear, you're like the literal embodiment of the clichéd 'love at first sight' trope. They ought to just call it 'pulling a Loki' at this point."

Loki lightly bopped her daughter's snout with an open palm, a grumpy but playful expression on her own face. "How easily you forget that you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me 'pulling a Loki' and becoming so deeply smitten with your mother when I was a teenager," she teased back, tail swaying behind her while she bearhugged her daughter. "And careful with your ribbing; you forget I'm still large enough to do this to you!"

"Mom, have you forgotten that playfulness is just standard practice for the Aniseeds?" she countered, her ribbons swirling and snaking to encompass her mother's shoulders as the two embraced. The Sylveontaur's feet lifted off the ground with Loki's full-force hug, causing her to let out a whimper and kick her paws around a bit, ribbons loosening immediately. "M-mom! Mom!"

The hybrid quickly realised her mistakes, releasing her grips enough to let Celeste's paws drop gracefully to the grass beneath them. "Kehehe… sorry, you know how it is. Force of habit." She blushed and smirked playfully at her daughter, tail swaying rhythmically to intermittent hums of pleasure. "Look, to be fair, the last time I saw you, you were small enough to basically hold in my arms with almost zero effort, and most of the time you just leapt into them! And don't forget; even when I reached down to grab you, you loved being swept off the floor like a little princess!"

Celeste mlemmed out her tongue, wiggling free from her mom's grasp and shaking her head. "I was also like three-six and had a lot less body to try and balance while you bear-hugged me," she countered, though even now Loki was still the taller of the two taurs. "I still love your sweeping hugs, Mom… it's just gonna take me a little bit to get used to keeping all the extra limbs and body in sync while you smother me in that patented Mom affection."

Loki let out a hearty laugh, leaning down and ruffling the Sylveontaur's headfur to the smaller Eeveelution's delight. "Guess I'll have to try and figure out something a little more rounded to keep you from being all off-centaur," she quipped, a pun Celeste found so awful that she had to immediately plap her ribbons onto the hybrid's cheeks. "Oh, stop, Celeste; you love my awful jokes and you know it."

Celeste mock-pouted at Loki, eyes narrowed and tongue blepped out in defiance. "Yeah, but they're still bad," she rebutted. "And you're still bad. But I love you." The Sylveontaur's gaze softened slightly, and she now sidled up along Loki's left flank, nuzzling her mom with lazy, affectionate purrs and a gentle, slowly-forming smile creeping back onto her muzzle.

"I love you too, Celeste," she whispered, nuzzling the younger taur in response. "And I'm sure glad to see that precious little smile of yours, to keep me certain that my little girl's as happy and healthy as ever." Aromas of lavender filled the air surrounding the two taurs in their brief familial snuggle, Celeste's twin tails encompassing Loki's singular leafy one. And Loki looked down at Celeste, coming to an indisputable, but nonetheless pleasing, conclusion about her eldest biological daughter.

As much as things never seem to stay the same, some things never change…

(( Celeste has been introduced and is open for asks! ))

[rainbow-bastard-club]

Could you tell us more abt how each character is like, personality-wise? :0

Of course! I'll divide it into two categories, as their behavior on set is different than off-set! Though this is a long post, so it'll be under a read more!

On Camera:

Black is portrayed as a mean older sibling who pranks all the others and laughs at them and is generally one note and annoying to watch. He comes across as mean spirited.

White is the inverse, where he is portrayed as the voice of reason for Black, and constantly has to try to keep his twin from bothering anybody/ he cleans up the aftermath of said pranks.

Red is very much the know it all who is constantly reading a book of some sort and turns away from most of the other children actors, as he's supposed to be a snobbish character in the show.

Orange is very excitable, however shows an extreme lack in desire to do anything physical, also he is eating something in every single shot he is in, for the comedic value.

Yellow is also quite the happy-go-lucky kid, though in the show he's portrayed as being slightly forgetful and leaving messes everywhere (as that was the lesson he was supposed to teach.)

Green is in fact blind since creation, and so is usually accompanied by someone else in the show, but he is very quiet and introverted.

Sky Blue is significantly louder and more outgoing, and she usually was the one to accompany him, because they balanced each other out.

Blue was very much the special boy, and often had the most screen time shared with other human actors as compared to his siblings.

Indigo was very quiet and stern, almost coming across as rude, unless the episode was focusing on space in which case she could talk for hours with complete sincerity.

Purple is an enigma, they're kind of, able to disappear for a while and then reappear later, and you don't even realize they were missing. They're calm, and don't speak much.

Violet is mellow, not necessarily calm, but he can put people at ease around him. Semi-chatty, but always pretending to be stupid in the show to annoy Red.

Pink is absolutely in love with the color, and the concept of love, and is so frilly and charming, so most of the episodes she's in feature something to do with the concept of love or romance.

Brown is outgoing, but to a point. On camera he usually just pushes past said point, though, and he's the kind of person who seems like they're in a perpetually good mood.

Grey is very reserved and timid, becoming nervous when new people are around him, or when the spotlight is on him. For said reason he usually isn't in too many shots and is always accompanied by a sibling.

Off Camera:

Black is actually the more mellow and laid-back sibling, who would rather just be listening to music, thank you. He goes out of his way to be kind to his siblings and fellow actors.

White is actually much ruder and more passive-aggressive than he is in the show. Even if he doesn't yell, he is very overwhelming to be around.

Red is still somewhat of a know it all, however he tries to make sure things he knows can be taught to everyone, even if he has to leave some information out, and his tastes in books are much different.

Orange is. He's. Eh... having sensory issues relating to food, and then being forced to eat on camera kind of gave him issues. He's reserved and doesn't like being looked at or paid attention to.

Yellow is still just as outgoing and crafty but is significantly better about not leaving scraps of paper and marker than he is in the show.

Green is very similar, as he is shy and prone to trailing off, however he's very aware of what's going on around him, even if it seems like he wouldn't be. He's got some suspicions.

Sky Blue still hangs around Green and helps him out whenever she can, but secretly she is obsessed with cars and trucks and trains.

Blue actually dislikes having so much attention on him, so whenever he is off camera, he seems to be trying to ride the adrenaline. However, he will seek out his siblings for hugs and affection.

Indigo is genuinely just as curious about space off camera as she is on camera, so she will talk to everyone about space whenever she can. Routinely begs Red to take her to the library so she can look at pictures of stars in the books.

Purple is still so sneaky, but their primary hiding area is under the castle walkway, they'd much rather be listening to music than anything else.

Violet is smarter than he appears in the show, and is just as chatty, and friendly, but doesn't hang out with everyone super often.

Pink secretly adores all things dark and spooky and has a videotape of the Addams family which she obsesses over. She has also filled an entire sketchbook with drawings of her as Morticia.

Brown reaches that point of no longer being outgoing quicker, and therefore will just walk out from conversations if he no longer wants to participate.

Grey is still very reserved, but he does much better off camera, because nobody is filming him, and he isn't around people he doesn't know. Very sleepy.

[caelestis-composition]

⭒ darkness, darkness everywhere; do you feel alone? ⭒

WOO YEAH. WOO 2AM BRYLUC POSTING. MY SPECIALTY.

sorry its finals week starting tomorrow and ive done five concerts in two weeks with two more this week i needed to write something for myself and they occupy my mind 24/7.

diluc gets jealous and forgets how similar the two of them are.

⭒

pairing: diluc/brynn (oc)

characters: diluc ragnvindr, brynn chanté (oc); mentioned kaeya alberich

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 994

⭒

A knock cuts through the silence of Diluc’s study, gentle against the heavy wooden door. His head lifts. It’s only midafternoon, judging by the sunlight pouring through the window—he shouldn’t be interrupted til later, unless it was something urgent.

Diluc begins to stand just as the door cracks open, only to sink back into his chair with a sigh of relief when it’s Brynn that peeks her head in. She lights up when she spots him behind his desk.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving to meet up with Kaeya, so I won’t be back until this evening.”

He can’t help the irritation that surges through him at the sound of his brother’s name on her lips. Diluc stiffens, his jaw tightening as an almost-imperceptible scowl finds its way to his face. But Brynn notices—she always notices—her expression softening, ears drooping ever-so-slightly. He feels bad.

It’s a sore subject, her relationship with Kaeya, and one they handle with care. Diluc knows he can’t stop Brynn from remaining friends with his estranged brother—he doesn’t want to stop her, because their friendship makes her happy, and that makes Diluc happy. She’s told him everything the Cavalry Captain had done for her, and he appreciates that, appreciates how good he is to her. But why, of all people, did it have to be Kaeya?

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Diluc.”

The redhead winces at her call. She’s not mad. No, she never gets mad, as much as Diluc thinks he deserves it.

Brynn worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she steps into the room, just enough to close the door behind her. It shuts with a quiet click. She hesitates, eyes averting briefly.

“What happened between you two?”

Her question isn’t much of a surprise, but Diluc freezes anyway. He’s kept her in the dark this long—and so, it seems, has Kaeya—despite the way she silently begs for answers each time something like this happens. She’s been… so good. He figures she deserves to know.

But…

Diluc swallows. “I don’t want to make you late.” It’s a pathetic excuse, he knows. It comes out even weaker than he had thought it would, and he fights the urge to grimace. Across the room, Brynn laughs—though it feels forced, like she’s not sure if she should be laughing.

“Kaeya won’t mind,” she reassures him, her voice soft. Still, Diluc drops his head into his hands, fingertips curling against his forehead. He feels as though he may cry. Brynn’s always been good at seeing right through him; she knows when he’s lying, as convincing as he tries to be. And as determined as she is to wring the truth out of him, Diluc could tell her to leave, and she would. Archons, she’s so good. Too good for someone like him.

She deserves to know.

But.

“I don’t want you to think less of me.”

Diluc has done many things he cannot be proud of. Taken his father’s life. Attacked his brother with the intent to kill. Abandoned his city and his father’s legacy for four years. He’s destructive, snuffed out more lives than he could possibly hope to count, time and time again with the help of a blessing from the Gods. He’s—

He’s kept his partner in the dark.

The feeling of a hand against his back startles him, and only then does Diluc realize he’s trembling. He hadn’t even heard Brynn cross the room, too lost in his own guilt. His wide, crimson eyes find her face—she’s concerned, brows knit, violet and blue eyes shimmering with worry. Her hand slides up, over his shoulder, until it rests against his cheek. Her skin is warm against his, her thumb stroking back and forth just beneath his eye.

For a moment, he sees his own guilt reflected back at him.

“My hands are hardly clean, either, Diluc.” Her voice is barely a whisper. His breath catches.

Right.

So he tells her everything—more than she originally wanted to know, he’s sure. Diluc pulls Brynn down into his lap so he can bury his face against her shoulder, speaking each sin into the crook of her neck. At some point he’d started crying, heaving out sobs between each admission. The entire time, she says nothing; Brynn only reaches up to pet at his hair, her other arm tightening around his shoulders, pulling him closer. It’s hard to stop once he’s started, hard to close the heavy steel gates guarding his heart once they’ve been opened.

Diluc’s unsure of how long he talks, how long they stay crowded on his chair, even when silence settles over the room. He draws away when his breathing almost returns to normal, when he’s not nearly hyperventilating. Brynn makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat, leaning forward to wipe at his drying tears with her sleeve. Gods. What a sorry state he’s in. Diluc makes a mental note to order a new shirt for her, as an apology for sullying the one she’s currently wearing.

Once she’s satisfied, Brynn pulls back. “Alright?” She asks, cocking her head. Diluc glances away, but nods. His hands twitch where they rest against her hips.

“Will—” He clears his throat, hesitating. “Will you stay? With me.” He doesn’t clarify whether he means for the day or in general. Maybe it doesn’t matter—he suspects her answer will be the same, regardless.

Brynn smiles, so warm despite the tears pricking at her own eyes, as she nuzzles her nose against his. “Of course,” she breathes, before she pulls him forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you.” Her words send a burst of color to Diluc’s cheeks, and he struggles to stop himself from hiding his face in her shoulder again. He groans, and this time her laugh is genuine, full as it rings out into his study.

Kaeya can wait until tomorrow.

[thegoodwitchcanes]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 😍NWT Diamond Fire Diamond Light Highlighter by Too Faced!😍.

[let-the-living-beware]

Babysitting

With a big sigh Shin finally sat down. It's been hours of just crying and more crying but finally the little devil was asleep. He, without so a second thought had agreed to babysit while Laiko was away but he regretted everything now. He tried making it Laikos fault so much that he totally ignored the real problem: he didn't listen. The red haired female explained everything to him to the last detail but he didn't listen. At least Nori now was deep asleep in her bed and he finally could breath.

Shin put his head back onto the couch when a little buzz let him shriek up. His phone. It laid on top of a shelf across the room and it not only began to buzz but also lit up. His eye widened when the ringtone finally set in and in second he jumped up, but tripped over a toy he tried to entertain the baby with and could only catch it during the fall. The phone now wasn't his only problem as he flew towards one of the three big windows and with a loud sound he shattered it.

"Fuck." he cursed and looked at the still ringing phone. "What do you want?", "Shin you seem angry. I just wanted to check on you, did something happen?" the familiar voice of Laiko came through the phone. He wanted to yell at her, tell her how he would kill her but Shin feared that his shouting would wake up the baby. The baby that seemed deep asleep despite him literally crashing through a window. "No. Everything is fine. I wanted to call you too and ask when you are gonna be here. Nii-san asked me to get something for him.", "Oh that's bad. I still need an hour or so, they really take their time with the interview." she laughed and he could picture her twirling her hair in one hand and looking apologetic at him. She did that when they were children and even after meeting each other again, she did it.

"Fine. One hour not more or you are gonna regret ever asking me to babysit that devil." And with that he ended the call and stood up. He thought about what he would tell Laiko happened, afterall she had a window less in her living room. With now another, slightly more annoyed sigh he went inside. Shin however didn't account for the noise of stepping on the glass shards to wake up the little being. Who would? She just slept through all of what happened. But nonetheless the beginning of a cry put him back into the misery he had escaped just minutes prior.

"Come on, you wanna wake up now? Just let me rest for one goddamn minute." he complained and walked towards the crib. In it still laid Nori, now crying. Her cyan eyes looking glassy as tears streamed down her face. Shin lifted her up into his arms and slowly walked towards the kitchen, away from the cold air stream that came in from the window, when he saw a bottle standing on the kitchen counter. Did it stand there before? He didn't notice it before but then, he also didn't notice the small box with toys in the living room.

Shin wanted to slap himself when he saw the little letter that laid beside the bottle. "This is sort of mint tea. Nori unfortunately is a bit ill. Just give her that if she shouldn't sleep or cry over a period of time, it will sooth the pain. Love Laiko~" he read it out aloud. So everything would have been OK if he just gave her the bottle? He first put Nori in her chair before ripping the letter into shreds.

And it really helped. After he gave her the bottle she did calm down and even laughed. He hadn't heard her laugh one time today and even though he didn't wanna admit it, it was the cutest thing he had seen in some time. Her eyes lighting up and she finally engaging in playing with him, or better his hair, truly was something. Shin eventually switched to playing in her room. Like everything in the house it was held in a violet theme but overall way more colorful because of the toys laying everywhere. After putting the dark blue haired child down onto a rug that resembled a light violet elephant he walked towards ont of the shelves. It was full with all sorts of plushies but one in particular got his attention.

It was a clothlike plushie with a head and tail that was obviously self made. What really was interesting how mich it resembles him. Everything from the fawn colored fabric to the one gold looking single button on the right side of its head. It all matched so perfectly, to perfectly. He decided to ask Laiko later and just grabed it before returning to the baby. She still sat there but now had her own hand put into her mouth. Shin sat down before Nori and moved it around infront of her. "Look, is that your plushie? He wants to tickle you." he said while playing surprised. He then moved the cloth wolf towards the kids tummy to slightly tickle her. Nori immediately began to laugh and tried getting it away while doing so.

This went on for a few minutes and Shin forgot the time. He enjoyed the moment. After some time he stood up to get another toy, a fox this time. Shin was about ti sit back down when Nori began brabbling. It wasn't the brabbling she usually did, it was as if she wanted to speak and before Shin could comprehend Nori spoke. "Dada" she laughed and reached her hands out. Shin was shocked for a moment before a small smile came over him. He wanted to say something but was interrupted.

"Awww I am so gonna send that to the others. That must be the cuteste thing ever." Shin turned around. How didnt he notice Laiko comming in? b´But that was beside the point because she obviously filmed what just happened if not more. He stood up and walked towards the redhead. "You're not gonna send this to anyone." Laiko knew what he was about to do and ran down the stairs with Shin behind her.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Fufufu wouldn’t it be funny if I requested Vil getting jealous and possessive over his s/o because they said that Neige is cute?? ^o^ I give you full creative liberty over story and format, Miss Raven!! And no need to answer this immediately!! My only wish is that you write this with the intended outcome of making Mac suffer from brainrot after they read this!! >:3

P.S. If you write this in the future, thank you in advance!! <3

In honor of the recent chapter 5 update, I bring you this food @twstpasta​~

***Warning: mild chapter 5 spoilers ahead!***

Imagine this...

“Oh... Vil, look.” You gently tugged on your boyfriend’s arm, urging him to stop midstride and to follow your finger to the display window of an electronics shop.

A number of televisions were set up, displaying Vil’s face in crisp, high definition to the tune of a few notes. On the screens, he appeared much more severe, the contours of his face carved out and the highest points accented with highlight. His lips, painted a deep red, and his hair tousled, as though styled by the shadows themselves.

He perched on a throne, his long, silken legs dangling over an armrest while he arched his back against the other. Velvet studded with speckles of white gems dripped off his frame like liquid night, the cloth hiking dangerously high up Vil’s thighs.

In a room of pitch black, the only light that shone was the spotlight on him. With a slight silt of his head, he cast a sideways glance into the camera--and his lips pulled back into a sultry smile.

He was a deadly beauty, set into motion on the screen.

The lights flickered out, and a series of images flew across the screen: a shattered goblet, a broken mirror, a bent crown. Vil’s face in greyscale, only the crimson shining through, as his smile grew more and more twisted.

And then... nothingness.

A lone bottle, hourglass-shaped and adorned in an intricate pattern of violet vines and a single scarlet drop, emerged.

“Never After, Eau du Parfum,” an unseen narrator whispered, the croon tracing a chilling line down your back. The coolness only lasted for a split second before dissipating into the winter air.

“Ara, it seems they’ve already started airing this commercial,” Vil mused, a finger tucked under his chin. “I’m afraid that it is not my best work. Are you certain that you enjoy it?”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you laughed, gently tapping a fist on his arm. “I know you’re always doing your best--and it’s amazing that you get to star in things like this. You’re amazing, Vil.”

“Hmm.” He turned his head away, neither acknowledging nor rebutting your compliment. “You always did like the aesthetics of these sorts of things, haven’t you?”

“What can I say? Pretty things are pretty--and you’re all that, and more.” You shrugged--as though it were as simple as that--and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“... Thank you for thinking so.” Vil squeezed back. “We must get going--or we may very well lose our dinner date reservation.”

“Ah, right!”

Just then, a short, familiar tune played from the televisions. Though Vil was already starting to lead you away by the hand, you still glanced back in curiosity.

Now on the screen was the same throne from Vil’s commercial, but bathed in sunlight. A different young man was seated in it, dressed in a pure white tunic with blue accents, golden threads woven throughout and making up the tassels. Large, warm eyes were framed by wisps of raven hair, his cheeks and lips a rosy pink, just slightly kissed with sunbeams.

A bluebird landed in his outstretched hand, and he giggled, taping his lips together to whistle the same few notes that had opened the commercial with his feathered friend.

He hopped off the throne and the camera panned around, showcasing a lush green landscape dotted with flowers. Another hourglass shaped bottle faded in, this one with a pink spot and deep cobalt vines--a brighter color scheme than the previous atomizer.

“Ever After, Eau du Parfum,” the narrator announced jauntily.

“Oh, hey! That commercial reminds me of yours,” you remarked, turning back to Vil. “The actor in it... That’s Neige Leblanche, I think! He’s getting really popular lately isn’t he? I see his face everywhere.”

“Yes, he has.” Vil’s reply, terse.

“I can see why he’s getting so much attention--he’s really adorable! He gives the commercial a totally different vibe, you know?”

“... Is that so?” Vil kept his eyes focused on the icy sidewalk ahead. “We filmed for the same campaign--that is why the commercials are so alike. The director had a certain concept that he wished to execute, and that required two distinctive roles.”

“I can see that. Like, a sexy versus cute thing?”

“Something to that effect, yes.” His tone was dry and all business--and perhaps touched with a hint of annoyance. “I believe the director’s exact words were, ‘two sides of the same coin, two potential paths a story can take’.”

“That makes a lot of sense. You and Neige are beautiful in your own ways!”

Vil fell silent, and his footsteps slowed to a complete halt. The grip he had on your hand had tightened considerably. You were certain that, had he not been wearing gloves, his knuckles would have been a ghostly white.

“Vil...?” Your steps, too, stilled, and you placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Vil gave a curt laugh--chilling and bitter, like a fine poison. “First you call him adorable, now you call him beautiful?”

He grimaced, cupping your cheek in his free hand. “I do not appreciate hearing another man’s name upon your lips. I should be the only one on your mind, my dear. Or--”

His grimace twisted into a smirk. “--would you be so cruel as to betray me?”

“I’d never do that.” You frowned, clutching a hand to your chest. “I’m sorry if I upset you by talking about Ne--”

“Do not speak of him,” Vil commanded, cutting you off. He gently stroked your cheek, his expression softening into something heartbreakingly beautiful. “I am right here.”

“I know. You always are,” you murmured teasingly, trying your best to fight the blush from rising to your face. “You don’t need to worry about any other guy sweeping me off my feet.”

“Fufufu. I shall hold you to that, then.” Vil leaned into you, his mouth hovering only a few centimeters above yours. The same lips that had once been stained a passionate red.  “(Y/N), (Y/N), in my hands... Tell me, who is the fairest in all of the land?”

“It’s Vil Schoenheit, of course.”

“Excellent answer.”

His lips lowered, locking with yours. He tasted like every bit of the shadows and starlight spread across the evening sky. All the light and darkness bundled into a single breath, shared between the two of you.

This was it.

Your Ever After.

[moonbeamsung]

You’re Just a Boy in a Blueberry Field

No fruit is sweeter than a summer love.

member: haechan

au: blueberry farmer!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 5.0k

genre: fluff, very light angst

warnings: mentions of food

author’s note: It’s here! I actually wrote most of this last summer, but only recently did I find the time to edit and get it ready to be posted. I added some parts and changed a few things, and now I like it quite a lot, so I hope you do as well! Thank you @astroboy-lele​ for beta-reading :) As always I would love to hear any feedback on this, and I hope that you enjoy the fic!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @leejunini @chicksung @mrkcore @radiorenjun @moon-jun @jisungiest @stayctday @byutafy @jujubean23 @treasurehobi​ @bluejaem​ @lyshoonn​ @vera-liscious​ @allegxdly​ @cupfullofjeno​ @thats-a-jen-no-no​ @yo-ddream​

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet 

Thank you lovely Ana @rvse-hvvck for this additional header!

Donghyuck knows everything there is to know about those blueberries.

Without even pausing for the briefest of moments to think, to instinctively recall the information instilled in him throughout his childhood spent on the farm, he can answer any question that’s thrown at him. He can point out just the right color of berry to pick so that they’ll be ripe when you eat them later. Likewise, he can also tell you which ones are best to eat now, as you pick them, pretending not to notice when you pop one or two into your mouth and grinning when your eyes light up from the sweetness.

A day comes where he, filled with mischief as usual, places a not-so-ripe blueberry into your hand, and you, being so wrapped up in the peacefulness of the morning that surrounds you, fail to notice its red color and don’t think twice about lifting it to your lips, biting into it with your teeth. When the tart taste meets your tongue, your face contorts into an expression that elicits a raucous fit of laughter from him. You’re the first one in the fields that day. When the sun had risen on the horizon, the fleeting touch of color in the sky that dawn left behind still lingering above, he had been there, sitting on the front porch as always to greet customers.

Donghyuck knows every bug that loves to rest on the branches of the blueberry bushes. After spending so much time next to you as you scan them for the pops of vivid blues and purples that are hidden behind jade green leaves, he begins to learn that you are not fond of any bug, no matter how harmless. It’s cute, he thinks, how you inspect every berry that you drop into your basket, fearing that some small creature is lurking on it. If you do find something, he hears a small noise of both surprise and disgust before you fling the perfectly good berry away from you. It also hurts a little, knowing that it’s one less for you to take home.

When more people arrive at the farm after you, he’s forced to leave your side and get them started on their own search for the delicious fruit that’s nestled among the branches of nearly every bush. And if they ask where the best ones are, he specifically points them in the direction of the fields where you aren’t. It isn’t a lie, really, because they’ve had a good harvest everywhere this year.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little selfish on his part, but who can blame him for wanting you to have some of the most plentiful bushes all to yourself?

Wednesdays are his favorite because it’s always the least crowded of all the mornings they’re open for business, and he can spend more time following you as you make your way down the rows, admiring the focus on your face and the way that you sometimes pause mid-reach, closing your eyes and standing still as the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its warm glow down onto the farm. A gentle sigh tumbles from your lips, darkened by the violet nectar that remains from the countless blueberries that have crossed their usually pink-tinted threshold. You resume your search after a few seconds, catching his eye and returning a smile he didn’t even know was there.

He makes the berries taste a little sweeter when he’s next to you. The purple juice that stains your fingers is a little darker. The sun feels brighter and warmer than ever, its heat shining down onto your skin.

One particular morning, after you finish picking all the blueberries you can carry, you decide to accompany Donghyuck on the porch, sitting beside each other in matching rocking chairs that first belonged to his great-grandparents, the farm’s founders. The familiar sounds of birds chirping and the low mumbling amongst customers meet your ears. You both gaze fondly at the horizon while immersed in casual chatter, all the while tending to several families as they come and go.

Whenever a car turns off of the two-lane, paved road and onto the noisy gravel path leading into a small grassy area that functions as a parking lot, Donghyuck excuses himself from the lively conversation both of you always find yourselves sharing. He stands, brushing his hands off on his faded denim overalls that are only slightly too large for his frame. His hand lifts up the baseball cap he always wears while the other runs through his hair, and your gaze falls on the back of his neck where it rests in longer strands. You always wonder why he keeps it like that since he complains about how hot it makes him feel. The humid summer air is stifling enough as it is, after all. The thought vanishes only moments after it arrives, though, and he flashes a brilliant grin at you over his shoulder as he descends the wooden stairs leading down to the patio.

Today, a happy looking family gets out of a shiny silver minivan. The mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl, make their way toward the covered patio and Donghyuck bounds down the steps like always, grabbing 4 stacked pails in his calloused hands. You lean forward a little in the creaky old rocking chair, your weight in your toes, ears just barely picking up his conversation with them. He greets the parents warmly, shaking their hands and then he kneels down to be eye-level with the small children. The little boy seems shy as he clasps his fingers in front of him, thumbs twiddling back and forth, while his sister is clearly the opposite. She skips over to the much taller boy, saying hello.

“Do you two like blueberries?” He asks them, one arm resting on his knee and the other extending a pail out in front of him. The young girl nods enthusiastically before she takes the container from his hand and turns around, passing it to her brother as he nods, making eye contact with Donghyuck for the first time. A small smile grows on his face when he’s met with the wider one of the unfamiliar but still welcoming stranger. His sister speaks up again, “Every Friday we get to help Mom make her famous blueberry pie!”

“Is that right?”

“Yep! In the morning we always go to the supermarket and get fresh blueberries,” she explains. Her mother leans down, softly telling her that this week they’re here to pick blueberries instead, fresh from the farm they were grown on.

“Really? So that means we’re not buying them at the store anymore?”

“Well, honey, today we can pick enough blueberries to last us for a whole month’s worth of blueberry pies.”

“And besides,” Donghyuck starts, still kneeling on the ground next to her, his boot leaving an imprint in the dirt underneath it, “it’ll taste even better since you picked them yourselves, don’t you think?” The boy punctuates his question with a wink.

The young boy steps up for the first time, grin stretching even wider as he finds the courage to happily agree with the wise words. Exclaiming eagerly and in a way that only a child can, he takes his sister by the hand that’s not holding his small bucket before scurrying off, their parents close behind after grabbing pails for each other as well as a third that their daughter had forgotten in the midst of the excitement.

As Donghyuck joins you on the porch once again, you can’t help but smile as you remember how he interacts with each and every customer that passes through the weathered fence surrounding the property. When he talks to kids in particular, his eyes seem to light up, and you see just how much of a kid he still is deep down. His playfulness never fails to make an appearance whenever you spend time with him.

You’re thankful for the moo of a cow in the distance that interrupts his question of why you’re smiling like an idiot and hopefully drowns out the steady sound of your pounding heart.

The next week he tells you that the rest of his family is out of town, and he’s been left with the responsibility of running the farm all on his own. He usually does most of the work himself these days anyway since he’s getting older and more mature, although some of his jokes say otherwise. You miss the way his mom would poke her head out of the upstairs window of the main house, calling out a greeting to you both from across the property, overjoyed at the sight of her son spending time with the particular customer he’s mentioned so many times before. Whether he would share an amusing anecdote of yours with his siblings at the dinner table or point out something that reminded him of you, it was far too easy for her to figure out how he feels about you.

In an effort to spend more time with him, keep him company and just help out in general, you offer to stay at the house with him for a little while. Or at least until his family gets back from their trip, and to your delight, he agrees. You arrive in the late evening, on a day when the fields are closed, just in time to catch the setting sun as it disappears behind the trees and power lines that seem to stretch for miles in the distance. Tugging an overnight bag of belongings with you, you knock twice on the wood of his front door.

It opens swiftly and Donghyuck welcomes you inside, wearing an apron that he must have outgrown 10 years ago, at least. You snicker at the snug choice of attire and he shoves your shoulder, though not with enough force to make you stumble. He whines a little in that saccharine-sweet voice of his that makes your heart clench, but you don’t give in. Not this time.

When the farm is closed for the day, the family has a chance to pick from some of the bushes that are planted in a more secluded area, all to ensure that they also have a big enough supply of the fruit to last them for the season. So Donghyuck had woken up at the crack of dawn, although you aren’t sure why. He had made his way downstairs and out into the dewy air of the morning, gathering just enough blueberries to bake a cobbler that night when you came over, since he’d learned it was your favorite treat after hours of conversation about anything and everything. The recipe comes straight from his great-grandfather, he informs you, and it’s written on a yellowing piece of paper in handwriting that you couldn’t read even if you tried. He, however, can somehow decode the seemingly nonsensical swirls and lines on the page. You suppose it’s part of the magic of the family recipe that gets passed down with it.

Donning an apron yourself, you join him at the sink as you begin washing the berries, gently grabbing a handful at a time as you let the tap water clean them. When you both reach into the large container at the same time, your hands brush and you almost scoff at the swell of your heart that you feel inside your chest.

As you’re working together to make the batter that you will soon pour into his mother’s finest glass baking pan, Donghyuck briskly swipes his fingertip on the side of the bowl where the mixer had splattered the combined ingredients, extending it in your direction. You raise an eyebrow at the boy and said fingertip before turning your head away.

“If you really think that I would lick that off your finger, then you’re terribly mistaken.”

Coyly, the mischief-maker in question retorts back as you glance at his impishly delighted expression. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” you state rather firmly, but matching the mirth in his eyes with a glimmer of amusement in your own. “I’ll settle for the spatula, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, your answer completely expected. At least he tried. 

You won’t deny that you enjoy sampling a bit of the batter of a dessert as much as anyone. But not that much.

Left with no choice, he takes himself up on his own offer and sticks his finger into his mouth with an audible ‘pop,’ exaggerating the action just to get a rise out of you, feeling the upward curl of his lips when you react ever so slightly with a silent chuckle.

You’re adding the last bit of flour to the mixture when you accidentally get some of the powdery substance on your hand in the process. Turning the automatic mixer off, you momentarily forget about your stained skin and you make the mistake of wiping your face with the back of your wrist, smearing the white stuff on your cheek. Donghyuck notices, of course, and an innocent attempt to help clean up the mess only ends with the two of you blushing like crazy.

“Let me help you,” he speaks up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the pan’s not that heavy, and even if it was, I’m strong enough anyway—”

You’re about to pick up the glassware but his sudden strides over to you from across the large kitchen cause everything you were saying, doing, and thinking to come to a complete stop. You’ve never really had a problem with personal space before, but right now he’s leaning down and his face is so close that you’re afraid to even breathe for fear that the action might just throw you off balance and towards him. For fear that you might not push his chest away with your hands if that happens.

He’s bending his knees to match your eye level and his hand lifts from its place at his side, hovering in midair not far from where the flour still lingers on your skin. His eyes had been so focused on the stain but the shrinking proximity between you and him pulls his gaze from your cheek to your eyes, blown wide and confused because you still have no idea that there’s something on your face.

The undoubtedly palpable tension in the room almost reaches down his throat and pulls the words from his vocal chords in an effort to dispel the heavy air circulating around the both of you.

“There’s… uh… you have flour…”

Donghyuck still hasn’t broken the less than comfortable eye contact, but he’s unable to look away for reasons unknown to him. After an agonizing amount of seconds your brain switches on again, albeit slowly, and you’re able to properly process the position you’re currently in. Your own hand starts to lift and though the movement is slight, it’s enough to draw his eyes down to it and he finds the strength to complete his goal at last.

His thumb swipes across your cheek and without even thinking he pops it into his mouth once again, forgetting about the unpleasant taste of flour. The way that the boy’s face scrunches up when the bitter powder meets his tongue doesn’t eliminate the awkwardness completely, but it’s a start. You hastily make an effort to avert your gaze as you frantically wonder if he caught your face that’s surely as warm as a blazing fireplace, all because he did the unthinkable with that stupid finger of his.

You won’t let yourself dwell on how his hand is just the right size to cradle the side of your head, or how much nicer his lips look up close, or how they must taste like the blueberries that he snuck into his mouth as you made the cobbler, or how you wished he had used his lips on your cheek instead of his thumb.

How you wish he had closed the almost nonexistent distance between your flushed faces.

These thoughts do nothing to ease the steadily growing heat that’s currently taking over your skin. Your eyes land on the glass pan and you take the opportunity to grab it, acting as a sort of distraction for your mind and also as something to snap you both out of your embarrassed hazes.

You get the finished dessert into the oven with no trouble after that, and now you have a little over half an hour of time to kill before it’s ready, so Donghyuck leads you into the nicely furnished family room and plops down onto the plush couch. When you don’t immediately follow he glances up at you, sensing that you’re still hesitant after the awkward moment. He smiles softly and almost apologetically, as if he’s sending a silent signal that you’ll both move past it soon enough, an invitation to put the incident behind the two of you. And you accept it.

You take a deep breath before you sit down next to him, sinking into the cushions underneath and behind you. The material dips slightly under the weight of both your bodies and gravity itself seems to be in control as it pushes you together, shoulders bumping and the sides of your legs being pressed up against each other. Thankfully, the television roars to life with the laughter of a live audience on one of your favorite shows, and you exhale a puff of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. With every scene that lights up the large display, you curl up further and further into his side, his arm migrating across the back of the sofa and winding around your shoulder only a few centimeters at a time.

This feels like home. Donghyuck feels like home.

The buzzer of the oven interrupts when you’re halfway through another episode, prompting you to jump to your feet just as abruptly as the alarm-like noise had started blaring. Consequently his arm flops down by his side as he mentally curses the loud intrusion into what had become a comfortable atmosphere, an atmosphere that was finally surrounding you again after what felt like an eternity but had really only been an hour.

In no time, you’re returning from the kitchen, the warm blueberry contents of the cobbler oozing out onto the flowery pair of plates you had grabbed from the cupboard. Handing one to him and setting the other aside for yourself, you quickly go back around the corner to grab two tall cups of cold milk. Your second time joining him on the couch comes more easily, almost all of the earlier tension having dispersed into the room, wafting out the windows along with the delicious scent of the fruit baked into the sweet, flaky crust. In fact, you’re fairly sure that it’s strong enough for even his neighbors down the road to smell. Which reminds you: you need to package some up to deliver to them tomorrow, per Donghyuck’s suggestion.

You’re most definitely sure that he smells the aroma, of course, because it’s hard to ignore the eagerness with which he takes a large bite of the dessert. “We make better bakers that I thought we would,” the boy comments, taking a sip of milk. The white mustache that it creates above his top lip when he lifts the glass to his mouth is enough to make you giggle, and you’re unaware that this predictable reaction was his objective all along. He grins, rather satisfied.

With your stomach now full, a head-plaguing drowsiness begins to set in. It slowly fills your senses enough for you to drift off, fork nearly falling out of your hand and onto the floor before he catches it, along with your weight when you slump down against his shoulder. Donghyuck is barely able to reach one of the end tables, and he sets the dishes and silverware down next to the now empty cups. Your body unconsciously clings to his like a koala to a branch, with both hands clutching one of his arms and a leg hooked over his thighs.

He takes one look at you and wishes he could pause time, to stay here forever. It’s not every day that he meets someone who can easily match the amount of snark he possesses. Simultaneously, you also balance out the friendship you share with your compassion and sense of wonder about the world, always evident in your morning routine when you come to the fields. Donghyuck has noticed that you bring out those same qualities in him, perhaps more than anyone else ever has. And just like you’re holding him right now, he vows to hold on to you.

As much as he doesn’t want to get up and for the evening to progress, he knows he should, that it has to. So he manages to detach from the hold of your limbs, gently pushing himself up and off of the couch so he doesn’t disturb you.

Glancing at the large antique clock above the doorway that leads out into the hall, Donghyuck realizes it’s much later than he thought. He decides to turn in for the night, but on a regular day he usually finds himself still awake well past midnight, despite the need to wake up early the next morning and run the farm from the crack of dawn.

Since you’re tired and he doesn’t want to risk you waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and place, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll join you. Only leaving your side for a moment, he puts the cobbler into the refrigerator and turns off the kitchen lights behind him as he goes. Softly padding halfway up the stairwell, Donghyuck makes sure there’s enough light for him to see where he’s going before making his way back into the living room one last time. He tucks one arm underneath both of your bent knees as tenderly as he can, and places the other behind the middle of your back, hand gently curling against your waist. He carries you with probably the most delicacy he’s shown in his entire life.

Going upstairs is generally an easy task, but doing so while carrying another person is a different story. He would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you in any way. If even your foot happened to bump the wall next to you, a burst of frustration at himself and his own carelessness would surface regardless of the impact’s intensity

Your position in his arms gives him yet another opportunity to gaze upon your peaceful expression, and he begins to think more deeply about what you are to him. Looking forward to your visits makes his work so much more enjoyable and worth it. You’re someone who truly appreciates what he and his family do for a living and you faithfully support them with your business as a customer whenever you can, which is a rare thing to find in most people that come. Most are just bored and in need of something to occupy themselves or their kids. Sometimes they don’t even pick that many berries. But you always make sure to bring your own basket, which holds just as many as if not more than the ones the farm provides, and fill it to the brim. In his eyes, you’re special.

Amidst the mostly-asleep state that you’re in, your eyes just barely open far enough to see a blurry picture of Donghyuck’s face as he carries you through the house and up into the bedroom he had suggested you share. He sets you down onto the soft mattress before pulling the covers up to your stomach, retreating into the attached bathroom to quickly change into a thin t-shirt and his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants.

The memory of that conversation floods back to you. Initially, you refused the offer, saying that he would rest better if he had more space to move around. But being the clingy person he is, he had pouted desperately as you struggled to stand your ground in the discussion. “Fine,” you had huffed, only half-frustrated with those doe eyes he always uses to get his way, and your lips had great difficulty holding back a smile.

The hum of electricity that can be heard emanating from the next room snaps you out of these thoughts, and is enough to wake you up a bit more. Your gaze scans the surroundings for a minute or two before he opens the door again, his eyes now looking as heavy as your own.

Donghyuck joins you under the blanket and shifts to lay on his side, facing you. It’s funny that you’re both able to adjust to a situation so intimate and new almost instantly. Still on your back, your head turns and you’re conscious enough to raise an eyebrow at the boy. There’s that pout again.

“Please?” He mumbles, his bottom lip jutting out in an action he’s perfected. You know exactly what he’s after: cuddles.

You don’t even try to hide the playful roll of your eyes as you scoot a little closer, but it’s not close enough for him. He gets impatient, meeting you halfway, and this time it’s him that flings a leg over yours. An endearing, small noise of contentment from him fills your ears as you take notice of his arms, now interlocked behind your neck and around your shoulders. You melt into the snug position, a hand landing on his forearm that’s laying across your chest. Turning ever so slightly to the side, your other hand winds around his middle and eventually rests just above his hip, pulling him into you even more. Donghyuck nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, a few strands of your hair tickling his skin as he sighs in complete and utter bliss.

Determined to savor the moment until the irresistible inevitability of slumber starts to overtake you once more, you fight to stay awake with all of your might. But in what you thought was only the blink of an eye, the glittering stars visible through the bay window’s sheer drapes morph into the pale golden rays of first light. There’s a soft murmur of your name along with an unintentional, almost imperceptible peck to the place where his lips meet your skin, and you’re wide awake. Not to mention a little shocked.

He’s utterly unfazed, though, slowly waking up now that the sun has gotten brighter, its beams filtering into the room and hitting his already glowing face that becomes a gorgeous honey-colored hue.

Donghyuck reluctantly withdraws his arms from your form after one last embrace, effortlessly rising from the wrinkled bed sheets and offering his hand to you when you start to do the same. A sleepy smile makes a home on his features and he reminds you of your task to deliver a portion of the dessert you made to his next-door neighbors.

That’s exactly what you do, first making yourselves presentable in the bathroom by smoothing down wild bed hair and freshening up your faces with cool water. Being around to see each other’s natural morning states is a major act of trust, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at you for it.

“How long does it normally take for you to do your hair every day before you come here?” His tone is dripping with feigned innocence, but the sly grin on his lips says otherwise.

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

Tupperware container in hand, your shoes step in rhythm with his as you amble along the grassy shoulder of the street together. Somehow you end up hand-in-hand by the time you reach his neighbors’ front patio.

“Donghyuck!” The elderly woman at the door greets him with a twinkling voice, her husband coming into view soon after. “Look who it is, honey,” she motions fondly to the boy who they both once knew to be much shorter and younger, but now is all grown up before their eyes. “You’re getting so tall. It seems like only yesterday you were scurrying through the blueberry fields and waving to us through the gaps in the fence.”

“Yes ma’am, it does,” he responds politely. The couple has been living there for as far back as he can remember, and quite honestly they feel as if they’ve become part of his family, too.

Her warm brown eyes light up. “Is this the customer your mother was telling me about last week? She mentioned how close you’ve become, and now I’m finally seeing it for myself. You make a lovely pair.”

“Oh—” Donghyuck startles. Not much can get him flustered, but he hadn’t exactly been anticipating for his mom to recount all the things he’s said about you to the sweetest and most innocent of elderly couples. Of course they would assume that there’s something going on.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, with you. He wouldn’t mind at all, really. He’ll just need to have a word about a little thing called privacy with his mother later.

You see the glint of panic in his eyes and speak up. It’s not often he makes such an easy target for teasing. “Thank you,” you state graciously, the smugness in the statement only noticeable to him. “We’re very happy together.” He feels you lean into him, fingers unwrapping from his and gripping the other side of his waist. You know exactly what you’re doing, and so does he.

Almost forgetting to hand over the slices of cobbler you’d cut earlier, Donghyuck nudges you to do so, and the four of you exchange thanks and farewells before you’re on your way back to the farm.

“Happy together, huh?”

“Shut up, Hyuck.” You mumble something else afterwards that he doesn’t quite catch.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” he sings, stopping in his tracks. You do the same. “Shut up and what?”

“...And kiss me.”

After many days and many nights spent wondering, you can confirm that his lips do, indeed, taste as sweet as the blueberries in those fields.