#Light hair light clothes light eyes - I considered blue grey or green eyes but no yellow suits him best

[sysig]

Sleep tight <3 (Patreon)

[psychidion]

ancient greek words for colors:

On the whole, the Greeks were not really concerned with giving names to specific colors. Their color terms were vague, often had more to do with shade than color difference, and drew in a sort of dynamic physicality that is honestly incredibly interesting.

μέλας and λευκός, which were commonly used to refer to black and white respectively, were still more involved with shade than the particular colors that we perceive as black and white. μέλας also meant dark, murky, and swarthy. λευκός was light, bright and clear, referred to any white color from a pure white to a light grey, and could also refer to someone with lighter skin.

χλωρός meant pale green or greenish yellow, but also commonly meant pale or pallid when referring to people and fresh or blooming when referring to plants and liquids (including blood and tears).

πορφύρεος is where we get the color term purple. And when it was referring to clothes or things, it did mean purple. But when it was describing people, especially their complexions, it meant bright red or flushed. This definition originates from the basic meaning of the word: heaving, surging, gushing, coming from the verb πορφύρω.

ξανθός and ἐρυθρός are perhaps the only straightforward terms, meaning yellow or golden and red respectively. ξανθός was typically used to describe blonde (ish) people; Achilles is described as having ξανθή κόμη (golden hair).

γλαυκός was commonly used to refer to the color grey, or simply to describe something as gleaming. When it refers to eyes, it usually describes the color; the most famous example being Athena and her epithet of γλαυκῶπις or grey-eyed (or gleaming eyed).

And now let's talk about κυάνεος. We get the color term cyan from it, and the word is popularly considered to refer to a dark blue. But that isn't exactly accurate. If we look at what this word typically described: hair, people, etc., it is clear that the concept of blue that we have nowadays wasn’t really coming into play. In fact, the more general translation is dark or black, conveying a shade rather than a color, like μέλας. If I were to attribute a color term to this word at all, I would probably say blue-black, or a cool black, to convey the depth of that shade, which is probably what the Greeks were describing.

[empressofmankind]

BEGGARS SHAN'T BE CHOOSERS - Part I

[Crocodile x F!OC]

SFW

(A/N) Better known as the 'Impel Down' fic, I kept mentioning the past two weeks. This is Part One. Of five? Of ten? I've given up. The total draft was > 12k. So, I split it in 3x 4k. And then, I noticed today the 'first part' had grown to >7k. So, I've split it again. I have a clear end in mind, but how long it'll take me to get there...

Originally, this fic was meant to focus around Buggy, but then a 2.53m unit of absolute bullshit got in the way. Shivs and her world class plans, good gods. Post-Alabaste, the mens are stuck in Impel Down. Shivs is dead set on springing the clown from prison. However, she'll first need to figure out where they're keeping him. On account of his devil fruit powers, she suspects level 6. And she has an excellent alibi to demand visitation to level 6. For once, the legal quagmire of technically still being married to Crocodile is going to work for her. Right? RIGHT??

In this first part, we'll join Shivs and Benji (and Mani!) as they get ready to, and make their way for, Impel Down. That's it, that's all that happens, and it took me near 4k. I am so long-winded. It's a terminal condition, I know.

Tag(s): Considering this is the entré, there isn't actually much to tag for? There's fluff and humour. There's a 10-year-old running around saying the absolute funniest shit as things go straight over her head. We got Mani the scaly golden retriever Bananawani along? Oh, and one (1) good marine.

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Beggars Shan't Be Choosers - Part I

“They're stupid clothes,” Benji said, her brow wrinkling with petulant annoyance. She was wearing a crispy white dress shirt, a green-on-ochre striped vest and grey slacks. She'd refused a dress of any sort. Her flame orange hair was neatly brushed and her small face wasn't covered in grease paint for once.

“I think you look handsome,” Shivs said as she pinned her own red hair up with a two-pronged kanzashi fashioned with golden lotuses whose inlaid blue diamonds had not seen the light of day in years.

“I look stupid.”

“Look. I am not comfortable in my clothes either,” Shivs said and indicated the mid-thigh sheath dress of black lace on dark grey broadcloth she wore. She'd decided on sheer stockings to go with it, but no gloves. 

“You look pretty in them.”

Shivs turned back to the mirror to finish pinning her hair and adjusting her bangs to fall neatly from under the strings of her eyepatch. “That is the idea, yes.”

Benji put her hands in her pockets, kicking her foot, making squeaky noises against the deck boards. “What am I supposed to look like? I don't want to be pretty.”

“You are supposed to look like the most capable and well-behaved child to ever grace the Blue.” Shivs pinched her cheek, gilt bangles jangling. “And you do when you don't stand with your hands wearing out your pockets like that.”

Benji took her hands out of her pockets. They idled a moment, undecided, but then she clasped them behind her back. “Your neck looks naked.” 

Shivs laughed at that because the bateau neckline of the dress could certainly use something. “Yours too.”

She plucked one of Buggy's patterned neck scarves from a drawer and tied it around her daughter's neck, tucking the ends into the vest. “There.”

“You should wear a pretty necklace,” Benji said, though her eyes were on the scarf. She seemed to like that, at least.

Shivs didn't have all that many necklaces conventionally considered ‘nice’. Going through the few she had in her thoughts, she picked up her modest jewellery box. Then paused as her gaze lingered on the bottom drawer of her vanity. Maybe she should… She pulled the drawer open and reached among clothes she rarely wore, patting around until she found the old music box.

Its silver had blackened with age and negligence, but even so, its delicate engravings of waves and tall ships were fine. If she polished it now, the oxidation remaining in the fine creases would help pick out its details better than ever before. She didn’t, of course. And she didn’t open the lid either. She couldn’t remember if it was wound up, and didn’t want to hear its melody if it was.

Instead, she held it with both hands and turned its engraved body as if removing a lid from a jar. With a click, the top section came off. Within the tiny compartment revealed lay a small, gold hoop with a bent hinge. She’d long since let the earlobe puncture it used to occupy close. Taking a thin string from her jewellery box, she suspended it from that instead.

“Like so?” Shivs asked, drawing Benji’s attention as she fastened it around her neck.

“Don’t you have anything sparklier, like your hair thing?”

Shivs brushed the kanzashi. Though the era of having such things aplenty was long behind her, she was loath to detract from the last one that remained to her with lesser gems. Besides, he’d notice.

“Sadly, no.”

“Oh?” Benji gave her the thumbs up. “Gold is pretty too, I guess!”

Part of the reason she’d picked it was that it was 24-carat gold. Just like the kanzashi.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“Only if you do not turn me into a clown,” Shivs said as she sat down at her vanity so the girl could reach her face. Benji grinned and set to work.

When Benji declared she was done, Shivs turned to the mirror and had to admit the little girl was now officially better at this than her. She’d gone for a dark burgundy smokey eye with a flawlessly thin line of gold right at the root of her eyelashes and a touch of white on the waterline. It made the hazel of her good eye pop like nobody’s business. She was pretty sure the dark red lipstick was Buggy’s favourite to use himself.

“I like it,” Shivs said and Benji beamed. “Now, I just need shoes.”

“I'll fetch some!” 

Benji was up and running out of the cabin before Shivs could protest. It was only a few minutes before the girl returned, clutching shoes in her arms. And not just any shoes, either. She held up gold-tinted, faux leather gladiator sandals with six-inch stiletto heels that would be a trick and a half to walk on. Where had she even found those?

“These will look awesome with your hair thing and necklace!”

She didn’t disagree as she put them on, but hoped the floors of Impel Down would be neatly packed concrete and nothing else. She hadn’t walked on heels like these in half a decade. Throwing a long bridge coat the rosy beige of dunes about her shoulders, she turned to the floor-length mirror.

Benji looked her up and down with the pinched expression of a critical, pint-sized costume designer grading their latest creation. “You look very pretty.”

Benji wasn’t wrong. She did look nice. Her mood sank, settling like an anchor in the pit of her stomach. She looked like his wife.

“Why is it OK to lie today?”

“It's not a lie.” Shivs shook the morose feeling and picked up her small black bag, its gilded chain rattling as she double checked its content. “More like, hm.”

“Make believe?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is,” Shivs said as she snapped the bag closed and hung it from her shoulder. “It will be easier to convince them to let us visit if we look the way they’d expect.”

“Why would they let us visit uncle Crocodile? Aren’t those visits for, like, if you’re his mom or sister or baby or something?” Benji’s small face was filled with healthy scepticism, hands in her pockets once again. “We should pretend he’s my dad.”

Shivs flinched and struggled to keep her smile from faltering. “Well, only if we have to.”

“They’d have to be pretty bad people to stop a kid from visiting their father.” Benji took her hand. “I hope uncle Crocodile knows where dad is.”

“I am sure he knows.” Shivs gave Benji’s hand a squeeze. She’d no idea how she’d find out where Buggy was if Crocodile didn’t know. She couldn’t exactly demand that information on legal grounds like she had done with him. “Is Mani ready, too?”

“Yes! I scrubbed her squeaky clean and even picked her teeth and scales. She’s eaten and done a big poop.” Shivs tried to let the girl’s bubbly chatter lift her spirits. “I borrowed one of Richie’s sparkly collars and she looks flashy in it!”

“Sparkly? That sounds amazing.”

“It is! She likes sparkly things.”

“Let’s fetch her then and go before we are too late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they left the cabin. “How can we be late for an appointment we didn’t make?”

“We can be late for the only ship going there today.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Benji had wanted to stand upon the prow as the government ship approached the Gate of Justice out of Enbies Lobby, because the skipper had said the Tarai current that would see them to Impel Down was chock full of sea kings. Shivs sat on a deck chair with a glass of wine, watching the girl run back and forth with binoculars she’d weedled from a matelot. On account of the seastone laminated hull, she doubted they would see any. However, there was no need to dunk on her chipper mood.

They were not the only visitors, more had trickled aboard to form a modest but motley company on the deck. She’d caught snippets of conversations as they walked by: a mother visiting her son; a brother, his sister. And she had a good guess what some of them were whispering about as they stole glances her way. She’d neglected to list any details regarding who they’d be visiting, but, in hindsight, she supposed the pony-sized bananawani lounging beside her gave it away. 

She’d tied Mani’s rhinestone-infested lilac leash to her chair leg, to discourage the reptile from wandering or - worse - deciding to take a swim. Not that she had any illusion as to its ability to pull the chair straight from under her if it wanted to go. But Mani was a creature of habit and minimal effort. A minor inconvenience such as this would be enough to keep her snoozing on the deck.

“Spotted any big ones?” Shivs said when Benji came towards her for a sip of lychee ramune.

“Not yet.” Benji plopped down beside Mani, putting her skinny arm around her scaly neck as she slurped lemonade. “Did you know bananawani hunt sea kings?”

“Really?” 

Shivs remembered the way the casino halls would darken as they swam by, their shadows passing beyond the glass as they glided towards the feeding platform. The unwitting sea king never stood a chance.

“They are their only known predator and totally hunt them,” Benji babbled happily while enjoying her drink. Mani’s eyes were still closed, but she’d shifted to lean into the little girl’s petting. “Do you think sea king tastes good?”

The water would run red but only for a short while, only until the currents whisked it away. Theoretically, the creature could make it out for the Rainbase oasis connected to the Sandora river.

“I bet Mani would prefer sea king chow,” Shivs said.

“I don't think they sell that at the pet stores.” Benji pouted as she hugged Mani. “She won’t be able to have a sea king snack until she’s big enough to hunt them herself.”

Hopefully, that would take a while yet. Bananawani could grow to colossal sizes, dwarfing mid-class tall ships. Shivs had no idea what they were supposed to do with a fully grown one. Or how to afford feeding the beast if there was no prey for her to hunt on her own. Rain Dinners’ bananawani never hunted alone.

Benji emptied her bottle with a big, noisy slurp, waking Mani. “Maybe we should have brought something?”

“A deck would have been nice,” Shivs said as she watched them. “We could have played slapjack.”

“No, I mean, for uncle Crocodile?” 

Shivs flinched.

“You always say that it is nice to bring something when you visit someone. Especially if you want something from them in turn?” Benji scrunched up her face, rubbing Mani’s thick scaly neck. “I have, like, half a bag of marshmallows, but I didn’t think to bring them.”

“I have something for him, don’t worry about it.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Impel Down was a fortress as ugly as it was unimaginative. It spilled onto the rapidly approaching horizon as a grey stain overtaking the limitless freedom of the open sea. And as they drew near on the Tarai current, its squat towers and crenellated battlements came into ever sharper focus until they dominated their entire surroundings. Curiously, there were no cannon embrasures, machicolations or any such defences one might expect from a proper bastion. 

A fleet of warships rested at anchor along the approach to the underwater prison. The modest passenger ship they were on was dwarfed by the marine dreadnoughts they passed as the current pulled them inexorably towards the prison’s colossal gatehouse.

Benji had returned to the prow for the approach, and Shivs joined her there.

“It’s so huge!” Benji stared wide-eyed at the thick walls as they sailed under the barbican and into the secured harbour proper beyond. Mani sat beside her, holding her own leash.

“The vast majority of the complex is actually underwater.” Shivs counted the cannons peeking down at them through the embrasures, out of habit more than anything. She wondered if they had a standing firing crew to man them.

“Are we going underwater?” Benji hopped from one leg unto the other. “The Calm Belts are supposed to be full of Sea Kings! Maybe there will be a window, and I can see one? Maybe there will be wild Bananawani too!”

“It is a prison, so I don’t think there will be windows,” Shivs said in an attempt to calm the girl’s excitement and avoid utter disappointment if that turned out to be true. “It does reach quite a ways below the water surface. A few kilometres, perhaps? Yes, I think so.”

“Wow.” Turning to Mani, Benji added: “Let's find a window, I bet there will be wild Bananawani! You can say ‘hi’!”

Shivs took her by the shoulder when she saw the other visitors disembark. “Come, let’s not be late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they walked to the gangplank. “For the visit we didn-?”

“Don’t say that,” Shivs interrupted her with a quelling look.

“Right.” Benji smiled again and took Mani’s leash. “Come on Mani. Can’t be late!”

They were funnelled through the gatehouse and into a courtyard patrolled by marine sentries. Here, too, cannons peered through embrasures on all sides. Evidently, the prison was more concerned about threats to its security rising from within than without.

“Visitors for level 1 and 2 inmates, that way,” a young marine officer said as he gestured to a colleague. “Level 3 and up, with me.” The few people that joined them as they went to the marine officer gave the juvenile Bananawani plodding beside them a wide breadth. 

The officer led them up steps and into an wholly uninviting lobby. With its worn plaster walls and dirty grey linoleum floor it did its very best to make you want to leave as soon as possible. No seats, no plants, no windows, no nothing. 

“Registration check.” The marine officer motioned them towards the looming concrete counter on the other side of the unpleasant space. “In an orderly manner, gentlefolk.”

Benji put her arm around Mani, leaning into the large reptile and putting her nose against its scales as she eyed their casually hostile surroundings.

“What’s his name?” The marine officer’s tone was amiable, conversational.

“Hers!” Benji said, holding on tighter to the Bananawani.

He tried to catch her gaze with a smile. “Big girls, both of you.”

“Her name is Mani.”

“Ah, ‘she who averts harm’,” he said, and Shivs appreciated his attempts to make Benji feel comfortable. “A wise choice for such a hardy animal.”

“She’s very sweet and tough,” Benji agreed as she snuggled Mani. “I love her.”

“I am sure she loves you very much too.”

“What is your name?” Benji asked. “Mine is Benji!”

“Nice to meet you, Benji,” the young marine said. “Mine is Toby.”

By then it was their turn, and Shivs approached the desk. It was higher than such things normally were, for she was not a particularly short woman and yet she need not bend down to meet the registrar’s gaze.

“State your name and purpose?” the woman said, hands poised to take down the information.

“Figarland Seonaid. Conjugal visit,” Then added when she saw her transcribe it as ‘Sheona’: “That is without the H, and spelled with N-A-I-D.”

The registrar gave a sign of neither interest nor recognition. “Visiting?”

“Crocodile Niall.”

The woman paused when she heard that name. And Shivs ignored the whispers she could not quite catch from those behind her in line.

“Niall. N-I-A-L-L. Not ‘Nile’.”

The registrar flipped through a thick binder, finger running down a table packed with dense handwriting. “No visitation registered.”

“Preposterous,” Shivs said, overacting an affronted tone. “A signed request for visitation has been approved weeks ago.” 

“There is no record of it, ma'am.”

Benji let go of Mani to fling her arms around Shivs’ waist instead, and gave the registrar and marine officer her most watery of wobbly baby looks. “Mommy, I want to see daddy!”

Shivs rubbed her shoulder, giving the registrar the pleading look of parents the world across trying to desperately manage a child on the brink of wailing. Benji's little sob into the fabric of her dress was very convincing. Mani paced around them, uncertain but riled by the sudden change of mood.

“Can't you put in an expedited request?” Shivs suggested, trying her damndest to sound sincere. “She'd been looking forward to it, and we get so few chances.”

“No registration, no visitation,” the woman said as Benji took in a breath to start a wail.

Toby shook his head. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he produced a small, earpiece Den Den Mushi and put the sea snail against his ear. A few transmissions later, he turned to the registrar and held up his hand. “Two visitor badges, please.”

With due reluctance the registrar handed them over to him and he turned to Benji. “There you go, kiddo,” he said as he gave her one, and then Shivs as well. “Courtesy of the vice-admiral making the curator see reason.”

“You're the best!” Benji beamed. “Look, mom, I am number 17! What is yours?”

Shivs looked at the scuffed 13 on the badge. It reminded her of a poker table she used to deal at, and the memory settled in the pit of her stomach like a fetch of cannon balls. “Not as high as yours, sweetie.”

“Come, I will see you two down to the right level,” Toby said, and led them to the elevator room beyond the lobby. There were four, two on the left and two on the right. He took them to the far right one, the doors opening as they approached.

“Awesome!” Benji said as she rushed inside, Mani hot on her heels. For the elevator was made entirely of armoured glass and provided a grand view of the ocean sprawling all the way across the horizon. The afternoon sun kissed the waves, setting sparkles to the white-capped water. And Shivs felt it beckon in her bones. 

Benji gave him a hopeful look. “Are we going underwater?”

“We are,” Toby said as he put a key in the control panel and turned it.

When the doors slid closed, Shivs suppressed the sudden and overwhelming urge to get out, to leave and never look back. To stay at the surface, where they belonged. I have to, she told herself as she clenched her hands into fists around the chain of her handbag. Bugs is down there, and he hates the dark beneath the waves.

The elevator jolted to life and Shivs closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of the lapping waves against the glass as they submerged, focussing on Benji’s excited noises instead. When she opened them again, they were enveloped in blue. Sunlight still penetrated, sending curtains of light through the water. Less so with every foot they descended, as the blue grew deeper, darker.

“A Sea King!” Benji screamed, spooking Mani as she glued herself against the glass. In the far distance, blurred in the shifting hues of the blue, swam a long, serpentine creature, its body undulating as it made its way from somewhere to elsewhere. 

“It could be the Prince of the Deep,” Toby said as he came to stand beside her. “It has about the right shape. Colour too, perhaps.”

Benji glanced at him, her eyes large and eager. “Prince?”

“Yes, because he is a prince among his kind. The largest Sea King in this part of the Calm Belt,” Toby said. “Ten times larger than Coral Grove, our largest dreadnought.”

“Wow.” Benji pressed her face against the glass. “Mani could snack on that for years.”

“Wouldn’t it be tough for her to hunt such a large creature?” Toby said, not without humour.

Benji rolled her eyes. “Not right now, she’s a baby. But she’ll be big and strong one day! Bananawani hunt Sea Kings, did you know?” she said and babbled the poor marine’s ears off about the large reptiles for some minutes.

As the armoured glass elevator descended to deeper water, their surroundings became steadily darker. Shivs put her gaze on the glass floor and the pitch black abyss below. It was easier to face the darkness approaching than the light receding, the sparkle of the sun on the water surface dwindling as you sank. The sea has never been friendly to man.

Beside her, Benji had put her arm around Mani as she looked up. No more sea kings down here.

“The 6th level is also called ‘The Basement’,” Toby said, making the girl glance away from the ever more distant sunlight. “Do you know why?”

Ghosts in the attic and monsters in the basement, Shivs thought as she recalled the sailors’ idiom about grief with its haunting memories and stowed feelings.

Benji eyed him, holding on to Mani still. “Because it's dark and far down?”

Because nobody goes there if they can help it. Shivs stared at the watery dark beneath their feet. The sea floor might never come and she'd not be surprised.

“Nope!” Toby said, his smile bright in the dimming light. “Because it is where all the cool people stay.”

Benji’s mood lit up. “My unc- Dad, is super cool! He's actually made out of sand, like, for real.”

“Are you made out of sand?”

Shivs gaze snapped onto him like a hawk. He was looking at Benji, fondness soft on his youthful face. He couldn't be much older than 20 or 22.

“I don't think so?” Benji let go of Mani to brush at her clothes, then glanced at him. “Do you want to pet her?”

Toby smiled. “Absolutely.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Horny hell seat reservations - @tiredemomama @smut-goblin @ruledbyproblematique @momodwriter @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @feral-artistry - except there's no horny. Croc isn't even in it either. I feel like a cheat.

[ikeromantic]

Luscious

A Barbatos fic, approx. 3500 words. Written as commission and kindly allowed to be shared here. Barbatos takes his love, Kara, out for a date. When he realizes how insecure she is about her appearance, he uses his devilish charm to show her how beautiful she is. TW: weight discussion, body image

Barbatos felt a slight twinge of jealousy as he watched Kara mount the steps to the castle. She was wearing another of Beel’s jerseys. The clothing didn’t suit her at all, but she looked comfortable, and the smile on her face made her beautiful no matter what she wore. He only wished it wasn’t another demon’s clothes draped over her.

She made a surprised moue when he opened the door before she could knock. “How did you know I was here already?” 

Barbatos smiled his little mysterious smile, but as her eyes went wider he chuckled and gave in. “It wasn’t any kind of magic. I saw you walking up from the window.”

Kara grinned. “Then does that mean you’re ready to go?” She peered past him into the castle. “Or does Diavolo need something before we head out?”

“The young master has what he needs for the day.” Barbatos held out his hand. “May I?”

She nodded, nervously tucking a bit of hair behind her ear before setting her palm against his. 

It felt like such an intimate gesture to him. This embrace of their intertwined fingers. Her skin was soft as satin and warm, and it sent a little thrill through him to hold onto her like this. A claim and an offer, all at once. She was his, and he made himself hers. 

“You have such a wide smile. What are you thinking about?”

“Hm? Oh, it isn’t important. Where would you like to go first? I believe we planned to visit a cafe and then go see the new wing of the botanical gardens. But we can do something else if you prefer?” Barbatos cocked his head, the tiny wings in his hair stretching with the question.

Kara considered the question, her eyes shading from grey to a darker green as she thought about it. “Mmm, let’s stick with the plan. I think it’ll be fun, so long as the carnivorous pitcher plant doesn’t eat me!” She giggled.

Barbatos squeezed her hand gently. “I would never let that happen.” 

It was a pleasant walk to the gardens, though the air was sharp with winter chill. The ever-dark skies sparkled with distant stars and the glow of the city’s lights. The botanical garden was impossible to miss. A giant glass sphere, it rose up against the velvet gloom, illuminated with a faint purple glow that raced and arced along the opaque panels. 

There was a decent crowd at the gates, but Barbatos bypassed the line. There were some benefits to being the Prince’s butler, afterall. Inside, the bustle of the street was quiet, subsumed by the thick, verdant leaves that grew along the walls and ceilings. 

“We should return in the spring,” Barb leaned close, his voice low and pitched for her ear only. “That is when the hell jasmine is in bloom. This entire path is covered in flowers.”

Kara leaned into him as he spoke, a little shiver running down her skin from the tickle of his breath. “That would be beautiful. But . . . does hell jasmine have some kind of effect? Because I don’t want to have to peel you off the ceiling or something.”

He grinned. “It does have a tendency to make us demons a bit more affectionate than usual.”

Her cheeks colored prettily and she looked down shyly. “That’s . . . good to know. I really need to brush up on my Devildom botany.”

“That is one reason we are here, no?” Barbatos cocked his head. 

“Yep.” She looked back up at him, regaining her equilibrium. 

Barbatos found her reaction to flirting adorable. She always seemed surprised by his interest, awkwardly flattered by his compliments. He loved seeing her eyes light up and her cheeks heat, even if she still tried to hide her reaction from him. 

The first display was a collection of frozen gerbera, all in wintry colors. Blue and white and faded grey, they exuded a brittle coldness. Their delicate petals glistened as if coated with a thin sheen of ice. 

“Hm. I remember these.” Kara shut her eyes. “They’ll freeze my eyeballs if I look for too long.”

“Bravo. Very good. That’s exactly right.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “In the Devildom, some of the most beautiful things are quite dangerous.”

“Guess that’s why I’m completely safe,” she gave a half-hearted laugh at her own joke.

Barbatos shook his head, guiding her away from the display. “I disagree, respectfully. You are one of the most dangerous creatures I know.” 

She laughed again, but didn’t reply - and he didn’t press the issue. She often made these little comments about herself, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to react. It was as if she did not know how exquisite she was.

The next display was the 666 leafed clover. A vast plant with so many leaves that it was best viewed from a narrow walkway suspended over it. Barbatos gestured for Kara to go first, but she shook her head. 

“That’s ok. I’d rather just look at it from here.” She smiled, but he could see it wasn’t genuine. There was shame in her eyes as she looked away.

“Kara, are you afraid of heights? I won’t laugh if you are.” Barbatos tugged gently at her hand, hoping she’d look at him again. He couldn’t understand her mood and wanted very much to know what had caused it. 

She shook her head. “N-no. It’s not that. Just . . .” She trailed off and then took a deep breath. “It’s pretty narrow. I’m too fat to go climbing on something like that.” Her laugh was as false as her smile. “It’s fine. I don’t need the view. The plant is pretty impressive from here.”

“Too . . . fat?” Barbatos raised an eyebrow. Kara was curvy, soft, and delectable. Her weight filled out her form, and gave her a voluptuous silhouette.

“Ahaha, yeah. I mean, you noticed already, right? It’s not like I can really hide it.” She shrugged, still not meeting his gaze. “Anyway, can we not talk about this?”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “As you like. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Kara turned her head just enough to see his face, the corner of her lips lifting in a tiny half-smile. “It’s fine.” 

Barbatos did his best to keep the conversation light and flowing as they visited the next few exhibits. He kept up a running flow of commentary and questions, and it seemed to work. She was smiling again, a genuine grin that reached her eyes and lit her expression with joy. 

They left the gardens laughing, and talking. Kara was telling him about the plants in the mortal realm, and Barbatos listened with rapt attention. She was a smart woman, always open to learning. And he could see how much she loved sharing what she knew. It was one of the things he liked about her. 

She was so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t see a huge puddle on the sidewalk. It was definitely deep enough to soak her shoes. Barbatos let go of her hand to reach for her waist, intending to lift her over the puddle. 

Kara nearly leapt out of his grasp as his hands settled on her middle. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you safe and dry.” He smiled.

She finally noticed the dip in the sidewalk and the dirty water that filled it. “Oh! Eww. What is that even? It hasn’t been raining.”

“It has not.” He chuckled. “So let’s make sure it doesn’t get on you.” He started to lift her, but stopped at her shout.

“Hey! No need for that. I’ll just step around it.” Her smile went false again as she added, “Wouldn’t want you to throw your back out.” 

Barbatos frowned. “I’m not the strongest of demons. Not like Beelzebub, for example.” His gaze drifted to her shirt and he felt that hot, unpleasant jab of jealousy again. “But I can surely lift my lady over a puddle.”

Kara wriggled out of his grasp, tugging the shirt this way and that to make sure she was still completely covered and it hadn’t bunched from his grip. “I didn’t mean it that way, Barb. I know you’re strong. But I’m pretty heavy. You don’t need to go picking me up. I don’t -”

He’d let it go earlier, but he felt he couldn’t keep letting her insist on something that was not true. “Kara.” He said her name gently, but with a tone that could not be ignored. 

She stopped speaking mid-sentence. Her eyes were wide and full of deep embarrassment, as if she had done something she desperately wanted to hide. Kara began to look away, but Barbatos caught her chin.

“No. I apologize for being so forward, but I cannot let this continue.” He let go of her chin after a moment, and let his hand trace the line of her jaw, her neck, down the curve of her shoulder. “You keep making these comments about yourself. Negative comments.”

“Barb, I - I know how I look. And it’s just easier if I make jokes about it. It’s fine.”

Barbatos shook his head, his wings flicking in agitation. “It is not.” He took a breath, unsure how to best phrase what he needed to say. Despite his long years of life, he could count the number of close relationships he’d had on one hand, and still have fingers left over. 

Romantic love was a new territory for him, and he cared for Kara so much that he worried anything he might say would cause her hurt. But he could see she was hurting herself, over and over again. These thoughts, these jokes, and mean comments. They cut her, and she hid it behind a fake smile and a laugh, just as she hid her body beneath bulky clothes.

“Do you know why I asked you to go out with me?” He trailed a finger down her arm, his nail scraping the slick cloth of the Fangol jersey. 

“Umm. I guess because I like tea. And books?”

Barbatos nodded. “Those are some of the things I noticed about you. You are smart, and curious. But you are also beautiful.”

Kara’s cheeks pinked. “Ah. Thanks.”

“Do you know how pretty you are?” He stepped closer, his other hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

“I . . . I guess I have a nice face?”

Barbatos ruffled her hair. “Every part of you is nice.”

Her face went even hotter, until the tips of her ears were red. “You can’t say that. You haven’t seen all of me.”

He smiled. “No?”

Kara’s eyes went wide. “Have you? You haven’t, right? You wouldn’t use your power to - to -”

“No, I haven’t. But I can see you, Kara.” He let his hands slide down her sides, tracing the outline of her beneath the over-sized jersey. “There is nothing here that is not perfect.”

“Pffft. Please. I’ve been trying to diet with Asmo. And work out with Beel. I know I'm waaaay off perfect.”

Barbatos gently squeezed her hips. “To me, you are flawless. An exquisite beauty.”

Her mouth opened to reply, but then closed again. She was flustered, unused to such compliments. Unqualified by criticism, and without ulterior motive. Kara hugged him then, her arms wrapping around his waist, her face buried against his chest. 

He held her gently, stroking her back. There were no words needed, only touch. They stayed like that for several breaths. When Kara let go, Barbatos took her hand again. “I have an idea,” he told her.

Instead of the cafe, he took her to Majolish. 

“Erm. Not to ask a stupid question, but I thought we were going for lunch?” Kara raised an eyebrow. 

“We will. But first, I’d like to get you a gift.” Barbatos nodded to one of the sales clerks. He knew most of the staff here, from his orders for Diavolo. They hurried over, and after a quick, whispered conversation, hurried away again. 

Kara watched this exchange warily. “Barb, what are you planning?”

“Patience. You’ll see in a moment.” He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. 

She sighed. “Alright.” 

A few moments later, the clerk came to get them, and led them to a private dressing room. A row of outfits hung from a rack, dresses and skirts and tops, several in shades of green. The clerk left them with a reminder to ring the bell if anything else was needed.

Once they were alone again, Kara gave him an unreadable look. “You want to buy me clothes?”

Barbatos nodded. “If you find an outfit you like, yes.” He gestured to the rack. “I would never tell you what to wear, but I’d like to spoil you with something nice, if you like.”

She nibbled at her lower lip as she considered, then nodded. “Alright. But only if I’m comfortable in it. When I come here with Asmo, he always picks the most ridiculous outfits.”

“I can well imagine.” He laughed, knowing the fifth brother’s style. 

Kara nodded as she walked to the rack. “I like my skirts to be a little longer than my shirts, you know?” She tugged conscientiously at Beel’s jersey. 

“Mmmm. I do know.” 

She picked through the clothes on the rack, settling on a dark green dress made from silvered spider-silk to try on first. 

Barbatos waited for her to come show him, but she didn’t emerge from the changing room for quite awhile. “Is everything alright, Kara? Do you need help?”

“N-no. I -” She cleared her throat. “Did you see the price tag on this?”

“I did not. Perhaps if you come out, I can check it?” 

There was a flurry of movement behind the door and then a reluctant Kara stuck her head out. “The tag’s on the sleeve.” She held her arm out toward him. 

Barbatos raised an eyebrow. “Could you come here? To me?”

She made a face, but after a moment complied. The dress was stunning on her. It hugged her curves, emphasizing her bust and hips in a complimentary way. The dress was a perfect length for her frame too, just long enough in the legs to make her seem taller than she was. 

“You’re smiling again. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about nothing.” She put a fist to her hip and frowned.

“I was just thinking how beautiful you look in that.” He tilted his head, the wings in his hair gave a contented stretch. 

Kara’s face heated, and she clasped her hands in front of her as if trying to cover up. “I don’t know. It’s too tight. And it’s not very practical at all. And expensive!”

Barbatos shrugged. “Don’t look at the tag. Just tell me how you feel in it.”

“Exposed.” Her frown deepened. 

“Then choose something else. I want you to be happy with what you pick too.” Barb gestured. “And I will enjoy the fashion show.”

That coaxed a laugh from her. “A fashion show? With one person?”

“With my favorite person.” 

Her shy smile was so adorable that he wanted to kiss her. Kara nodded after a moment, and went to choose another outfit. This time a light green skirt and cream top. She came out of the dressing room without being coaxed this time, though she was clearly uncomfortable. Her hands kept fluttering to her waist, tugging the shirt down to make sure her belly didn’t show. 

She went back again and again, discarding each outfit. Too short, too tight, too low cut, too much back revealed . . . it seemed as if she wouldn’t be happy unless the clothes fit her like, well, like one of Beel’s old shirts. No matter how Barbatos complimented her, she simply could not see her own beauty.

She was on the next to last outfit. A velvety dress with dark green buttons and delicate crystal beading along the bodice. It was gorgeous on the hangar and Barbatos couldn’t wait to see what it would look like on her.  

He could hear her in the changing room, the rustle of clothing and muttered curses. After a long moment, she called out. “Can you come help me? These damn buttons were clearly made by devils.”

“Clearly,” he chuckled.

Kara opened the door enough for him to see the problem. She couldn’t see the tiny buttons to match them to the small button-holes. Her fingers kept sliding over the fabric, getting nowhere. “You know, it’s probably fine. I think this one’s too -”

He stepped inside, letting the changing room door shut. The space was smaller than he’d realized, and with him inside, Kara was nearly pressed up against the mirrored wall. “Sorry,” Barbatos murmured, though he didn’t feel truly sorry. Her closeness was more than pleasant.

“It’s fine,” she replied breathily, turning so that he could get at the buttons. Like this, she was facing the mirror, her back against him. 

Barbatos ran his hands lightly up her back, enjoying the little shiver of pleasure she gave. “This dress is lovely on you.” He began doing up the buttons, taking a bit more time than strictly needed.

Kara tried to take a step back to get a better look in the mirror, but there wasn’t space. “I don’t know.”

“Mmmm. I do.” He leaned forward, so that his lips nearly touched her ear. “The color brings out your eyes, green as the deep forest with just a hint of silvery moonlight.” His hands, done with the buttons, drew slowly down her back. “The velvet fabric is a hint at the delicate softness beneath.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed at his touch, and she let out a slightly ragged exhale. 

Barbatos pressed closer still, knowing the move was ungentlemanly, but unable to stop himself. Kara woke something in him, a most uncouth flame, one he did not wish to extinguish even as etiquette demanded. He let his hands rove across her hips. “The silhouette flatters your shape, and shows you to good advantage.” 

Kara made a sound in her throat. She turned toward him, her full, luscious figure against his chest, her face so close to his that he could feel the ghost of her breath on his cheek. 

“You are so beautiful that I cannot help but want to touch you. To kiss you.” He reached with one hand to brush his thumb over her lower lip. If the velvet of the dress was soft, what word then for her lips? He couldn’t think of one, not with the pounding of his heart and the flames of need racing through his veins. “May I?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her eyes opening. There was such vulnerability in them. A fragile delicacy that made his heart ache. 

Barbatos kissed her. He meant it to be gentle, a sweet first kiss. And that was how it started. The exchange of breath and life, the press of her warm mouth to his. Her hands settling on his shoulders as his hands went around her waist. But the feel of her against him was almost more than he could bear. The temptation of her. 

The kiss deepened as her lips opened to him. His tongue delved past them and into the silky heat of her mouth. Caressing her, tasting her. 

Kara kissed him back with just as much passion. She did not simply yield. Her tongue played against his, teasing, exploring. She slipped between his lips, all heat and fire and sweetness. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly. The touch sent fire racing down his spine, an electric jolt of pleasure that made him want more. 

It was only with great reluctance and a burst of willpower that Barbatos drew back from the kiss. He felt breathless, undone. His normally unflappable demeanor swept away. He tried to regain his composure.

“Your - your hair,” she said after a moment, and reached to straighten it. Barb stood completely still, enjoying the sensation of her grooming him. It was strange and pleasant to be taken care of. 

He laughed softly, and caught her hand as she drew away, kissing her fingertips. “Thank you.”

Red suffused her cheeks, as if she suddenly realized what they’d done. Making out in the changing room. “S-sure.”

“I’ll step out and give you a moment.” He let her hand go and backed out of the tiny space. 

Kara came out a moment later, still sporting spots of pink in her cheeks. “Do you . . . really think it looks nice?”

Barbatos was almost surprised by the question. “I do. You are gorgeous. But, how do you feel?”

Her jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat he thought she would reject this option as well, but then she nodded. “I . . . I feel pretty.” A trembling smile rose to her lips. “If you still want to get me something, I think - I think I like this one.”

“An excellent choice.” He took her hand and spun her about slowly. “I think I may have to take you dancing, to celebrate.”

“The dress?” She peered up at him, a skeptical eyebrow raised.

Barbatos laughed. “No, not the dress. I want to celebrate our first kiss. The first of many, I hope.”

Kara’s smile widened, her eyes shining silver as starlight. “Me too. In fact . . . could we . . .”

He answered by pulling her close and kissing her again.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On a scale of Blegh to Slay Girl, which OB character design is the best and worst?

I'll be talking about my own thoughts in this post, but if you're interested in seeing a larger sample size's opinion on this question, you can check out the results of this poll! Vil was initially hardcore in the lead, but over time (I think because someone datamined and shared Malleus's full body OB design during the period in which the poll ran) Malleus overtook him.

From personal Blegh (worst/least liked) to Slay Girl (best/most liked):

Azul — This is the first “real” look we’ve had of his true form, and it doesn’t leave a good impression on me. It’s not that I don’t like Azul’s look as an octopus, the proportions of his tentacles just seem… off?? Like I feel like they should be much longer than they actually are. Additionally, the design of the tentacles makes them look plasticy and fake, almost like pool toys you’d blow up and then whack around in the water.

I also feel like because of Azul being an octopus, the design feels a little empty and the designers overcompensated by cover up the empty space (ie slapping random stuff on). The placement of the shells on his lower body is very weird on him, and compared to his collar (the necklace, the coral spiking off his shoulders) there’s not a lot happening here. The harsh black blot against the grey-purple of his skin also looks very jarring (which, as you’ll see, will continue to be a point of contention for me as we get into other OBs). Perhaps the only element I like in Azul’s OB is his crown, which resembles King Triton’s (you know, after Ursula yoinked it from him). It’s not too much embellishment like the elements at his collar, and it’s not oddly placed like the shells are.

Vil — I like his sleeves, veil, and little metal talons!! I also appreciate this his single glowing eye has blot running down like tears or running mascara! … That’s about it. I find that nothing else about his look does it for me 💦 Vil’s chest feels… oddly empty?? It’s like he has no form at all there because of how unnaturally smooth it is. And while I kind of get where the devs are going with the religious imagery and the incorporation of peacock feathers, I don’t think it all visually meshes very well together. The blot that his fabric fades into ends up looking like weird clumps of hair sticking onto the ends of Vil’s train and sleeves because no one was there to hold them up for him to keep them clean.

His crown is meant to make him look regal and imposing, but I just giggle a little because it looks so… chunky that it comes off as comedic and top-heavy (like he’ll keel over from the weight of it any second now). Yes, I understand it’s the same crown as that of the Beautiful Queen; I just think the extra things they added to it (ie the peacock feathers in the halo) gives additional weight that isn’t needed. I’m not sure if I get the weird spikes at his waist either; it was probably to better color distribute the scarce white in his look, but I feel like some other design element would have made it look less disjointed.

Malleus — This look is what I jokingly call “Nosferatu”; it reminds me a LOT of a stereotypical vampire, from the cape and slicked back hair to the zombie-like tint to the skin and draconian is this considered a pun clothing. The skin (being a reference to Maleficent) is, of course, a muted green color. That… just makes Malleus look hella seasick to me DX maybe like he has some cyanosis coming on??? In any case, I don’t like it. hdisbskskxos ANOTHER THING, THE GLOW IN THE DARK/LIGHT UP HORNS AND TAIL ARE SO FUNNY 😂 It doesn’t make me take him seriously as a threat when he’s over here lighting up like a lava lamp.

The main thing that makes me like this design a little over Vil’s is that the colors of neon green and deep blue-purple offer a greater contrast between the super dark parts of his clothing. There are also little details I appreciate, like how the blot on Malleus’s face forms little black scales like that of a dragon or a lizard and the continuous incorporation of thorns throughout the design. There are thorns over his torso, thorns crawling up his waist, thorns forming the “cage” of his skirt, and thorns climbing up from his cape—it really sells the imagery that his own insecurities and loneliness are swallowing him. The thorns on his chest are of particular interest to me 👁️ It’s like Malleus has “walled off” his heart to intruders, refusing to let them into his perfect dream world where no one leaves him. It just works well thematically!!

Jamil — I know Jamil’s OB design is really unpopular. I didn’t initially like it that much either, but the more and more I thought about it, the more I realized that while I don’t think the outfit is awful, it’s Jamil’s physical traits that drive people off from him. I actually really enjoy many elements of his OB: the tattered veil, how his skirt flares out at the end, the shoes, the beads, the draping cloth of his sleeves… The problem is, that’s not what my eyes are immediately drawn to. I’m way too busy staring at his snake hair and fake facial hair to notice anything else 😂

The snake hair looks so goofy (I think because of them lacking a lot of detail), and I'm not sure if the hair turban was a good choice either. I think it gives kind of clashing ideas as well??? The idea of snake hair invokes thoughts of Medusa, who is more closely linked to Greek mythology (which, thematically speaking, is more of an Ignihyde thing than a Scarabia thing; I’m not saying that Idia should have snake hair, but the fact that it was put on Jamil who had no association with Greek mythology may feel slightly off). The blot pooling at his chin and forming pseudo facial hair is also pretty silly (I know it's to mimic Jafar's goatee, but it's still weird to see on Jamil). Altogether, it creates a weird initial impression, especially when combined with the various over-the-top facial expressions Jamil makes while in this form.

Riddle — Here’s the part where I admit I probably ranked Riddle high due in part to nostalgia and because I’m really into Alice in Wonderland motifs 🤡 I think it’s a nicely balanced design, not only because of the even distribution of black and red in the dress (plus white as a much needed accent color), but you very clearly get the “Queen of Hearts” vibe without the very obvious overabundance of hearts everywhere. There’s a lot of neat little details, like the roses at his waist, the “spider legs” of playing cards, the loops of the bow that form a “heart” behind him, and the incorporation of suits into his choker and various other areas.

One thing that I think helps Riddle really stand out is just how small he is compared to everyone else; his OB outfit helps to further emphasize that, with the length of his dress’s train curling around him. We see the size difference highlighted in the battle against him as well. Riddle’s Phantom looks over him while he floats slightly hunched over, as if a puppet on strings. It makes me think of how his mother still has a strong hold on him, so she’s the one “in control” of his strings, the one influencing his toxic behavior. That lends Riddle’s OB a lot more personality in my eyes.

Idia — Cringe lines aside, I like how different and dynamic Idia’s OB is! The electronic mouth guard helps him be a lot more expressive than he usually is, and all the blue flames and swirling blot creates a super distinctive look. (I’m especially a fan of the vortex of blot that makes up the lower half of his design.) Blue and black work really well together, and I also feel like that color combination is good for emphasizing the sleek, cybernetic armor Idia sports, with the black part being metal and the blue part being the lights/energy/magic/electricity coursing through that powers it.

I guess the one big con against Idia’s design is that it doesn’t much resemble Hades. However, I tend to find that I have a preference for more subtle design elements in OBs, so I don’t really mind this. There’s enough sprinkled in to get the idea, from the stripe of cloth hanging from Idia’s clavicle to the slender (resembling the robes of Hades), pointed fingers of his gloves (again, similar to Hades), and even the vortex of his armor (like the spirits of the underworld swirling around). A lot of the tech elements help make Idia stand out and tie back to the trauma he experienced, so I think retaining the robotic nature of the OB is a must!

Leona — The single major qualm I have with this design is his lack of footwear 🥲 I never want to see bare feet (I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it’s related to a traumatic childhood memory). Other than that, I think this is the most cohesive design of the OB boys. It's not too much, but it's also not too little, and the colors aren't too garish, nor too much black. The slicked back hair and furry collar resemble a lion's mane, and even something as understated as Leona's silhouette is made to better resemble his Disney counterpart (Scar's body shape is replicated using a corset of sorts). The blot covering his hands also gives him sharper nails, similar to a lion's claws. Leona's jewelry is also an interesting choice; the necklaces, of course, resemble the teeth of a predator, but everywhere else the jewelry seems very shackle and chain-like, perhaps alluding to how Leona feels resigned to his fate because of something he cannot control (his birth order). He's trying to break free of those attempts to keep him down, rebelling against people's low expectations of him.

The fabric that's draped over his lower half is a little on-the-nose; it's ramshackle and stitched together, resembling "scars" (geddit, cuz "Scar"). In the context of an OB though, I think I can overlook this. All of them feel broken, so seeing torn and ruined elements only makes sense. You can see his tail chilling inside of that cage of stitched fabric, but just barely because there's also golden cloth in front mostly covering it. To me, this is a good thing because tails on humanoid characters kind of unnerves me 😅

Anyway, those are my thoughts on all the OB designs ^^ I hope that was at least somewhat interesting to read.

[winter-literature]

Lawlight smut excerpt: Green Light

I was thinking about how the aggressive nature of L and Light could still be played with in a consensual manner. I did not finish the piece, and I’m not sure I ever will, so I thought I would at least share my brain baby for enjoyment and blue balls.

Shortly after the downfall of Higuchi, L and Light’s relationship has been strained. Both L and Light know their time together is coming to an end. Light, in pure denial, continues to stay with L, for “work purposes”.

“What?” Light growled, rubbing a towel to dry his freshly showered hair.

L crouched on the bed, the same position as when Light had started his shower. He couldn’t erase the demonic smile that curved across Light’s face in the helicopter. Did they ever truly love each other? Or did they use each other to pass time? L had chewed his thumb raw and still hadn’t grasped an answer.

Light soured at the continued silence that hung between them. “WHAT?”

Unfurling inch by inch, L stretched out towards Light. He adored watching the fire flame in vicious auburn eyes.

Growling, Light rolled the damp towel into a ball and threw it towards L’s face. Too high above the world to hear the heartbeat of the city below, the only resonation in the room was Light’s shallow breaths.

Taking his index finger and his thumb, L pulled the towel away from his face. Hovering it in the air, he traced Light’s form. Only a towel around his waist served to protect his skin. Beads of water trickled down his chest and abdomen, skipping with each breath.

“Will Kira miss me, do you think?” L tilted his head, dropping the damp towel to the floor.

“Shut up!” Light stomped towards the closet, turning his back to L.

With soft steps, L glided towards the closet. He was certain Light would sense his presence, but he knew too well that the man always tried to hide it. Light felt stronger when he denied his attraction, his own lingering eyes.

The hangers squealed along the rod as Light aimlessly sorted through the clothes. Considering it was night time, he’d opt for a pair of sweatpants in the end. They both knew that, but they both played the game anyway.

Light’s stomach concaved at L’s cold touch. L smirked at the goosebumps rising against his fingers.

“What does it say about your own god complex that you get turned on after comparing me to a serial killer?” Light scoffed, still aimlessly sorting through his clothes.

Tightening his grip around Light’s waist, L pressed kisses along Light’s soft skin. If he kissed hard enough, the skin would stay white for moments after pulling away. “I’m positive I’ve never claimed to be mentally stable.” L muttered between kisses. He couldn’t say otherwise; the truth that the person he’d given his heart to was bound to leave sent aches and nausea through his chest he’d never believed possible. He couldn’t admit that he desperately needed to touch Light because he knew their story was nearing its end.

Growling, Light rolled his shoulder back with enough force to smash L’s face. L smacked his lips together, a faint taste of iron dribbling through his mouth.

“Fuck off, L. Go find someone else to torture.” Light gave up on the hanging clothes and finally opened the drawer that held his sweatpants.

“No one will be as fun as you.” L restablished his grip around Light’s waist, forcing him to manoeuvre around his hold to slide the sweatpants on under the loosening towel.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Light dropped the towel, exposing his backside before immediately pulling his grey cotton pants up the rest of the way.

Breathing a smirk of a laugh, L ran his fingertips along the underside of the elastic of Light’s sweatpants. Ignoring Light’s growl, L sunk his teeth into the skin that connected a perfect shoulder to a gorgeously psychotic head.

“I said fuck off!” Light pushed L away, keeping his back towards him.

Delicately, L closed the space between them once again. His lips ran along the edge of Light’s ear. L was close enough to feel the clench of Light’s jaw.

“What colour, Light?” L asked in a low raspy voice.

“I’m not playing.” Light spat back.

“What colour?” L asked again, his constantly roaming hands freezing in place.

Shaking his head, Light pursed his lips and glared into the closet.

Enjoying the struggle L knew that Light was enduring, L stayed still, waiting for his confirmation.

“You’re a child.” Light venomously whispered under his breath.

“Does that mean playtime is over?” L’s question was barely louder than his breath as he started to pull his hands away.

“Green! Green, you fucking dimwit!” Light snapped, slamming the closet door shut with enough vigor for a hanger to fall on the other side.

“Good.” L wrapped his hands around Light’s waist, pulling their hips together. A baritone moan left his lips as he pressed his member against Light’s backside. One hand stayed to push Light’s body against his own, the other crept under the front side of Light’s pants.

Light kept fighting to portray a calm demeanor, as if L’s touch meant nothing to him. It truly thrilled L to break this act.

“I barely touched you and you’re already rock hard.” L whispered, taking Light’s lobe in between his teeth.

Once again, Light responded with a clench of the jaw, but the erection in L’s palm twitched.

“You’re such a tease.” L bit down onto Light’s ear, inciting a small shriek.

L’s head fogged, his hips grinding deeper against Light’s ass. “How does it feel? To be defiled by your enemy?”

A “ngh,” escaped Light’s pursed lips, igniting the warmth that grew in L’s stomach.

Keeping a steady rhythm on Light’s frontside, L shimmied the grey sweatpants past Light’s ass, letting them fall to the floor around Light’s bare feet.

“You have such a pretty ass…” L mumbled, massaging Light’s taught backside.

“Pervert.” Light scoffed.

[adahlenan]

{ BASICS }

Name: Lev Dagnyr Nicknames: He doesn't have any and he's perfectly fine with that! Age: 26 Nameday: 18th Sun, Third Astral Moon Race: Veena Viera Gender: Agender (he/him exclusively) Orientation: ??? but actively trying to avoid falling in love Profession: Warrior of Light

{ PHYSICAL ASPECTS }

Hair: Mousy brown Eyes: Light blue-grey Skin: Fair Tattoos/scars: Myriad collection of scars gathered over the years of combat, all part of being the Warrior of Light.

{ FAMILY }

Parents: Lev's mother died in childbirth due to complications, but he was raised by a hyuran couple - Arabella and Daniel Holt. His name is his only memory of his mother, but he loves his adoptive parents as his own flesh and blood. Siblings: None, though he can't help but think of the Leveilleur twins as younger siblings. Quietly. Grandparents: N/A In-laws and Other: After spending the events of Heavensward with the Fortemps family, he considers them a secondary family, ensuring he visits when there's a lull in the action. Lev also considers Meteion in an odd place between a younger sister and a dear, dear friend. Regardless, he holds space in his heart for her always, until he sees her again. Pets: None. He doesn't want the responsibility and he doesn't stay in one place long enough to create a home for a pet.

{ SKILLS }

Abilities: Fletching, archery, basic conjury (ever improving through hard work), literacy. Hobbies: Fishing, visiting market spaces, journaling. Not much time for hobbies when you're busy saving the world.

{ TRAITS }

Most Positive Trait: His empathy. Lev can be hard to read, doubly so if you expect to typical Viera mannerisms from him. But beneath his guarded exterior is a warm soul with an overflowing amount of compassion. Whenever he can, he tries to interact with the locals to help ease their worries and provide a little spot of hope in dark times simply by nature of being the WoL. Most Negative Trait: His pessimism. Lev has grown emotionally stronger over the years, but his greatest weakness is becoming overwhelmed by the situation and sliding into a depression. He feels like a child with the world on his shoulders - and in many ways he is, seeing how young he is for a Viera. It's still an active fight to not lose hope and give up in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, but with the Scions at his side he has an easier time holding himself together.

{ LIKES }

Colours: Deep blue, forest greens, earthy browns. Smells: The forests of the Shroud, petrichor, the crispness of mountain air, vanilla, oranges. Textures: The smooth wood of a tree after you remove the bark, soft and well worn leather, breezy linen clothing, the clean edges of feather on an arrow. Drinks: Water, fresh cider or juice, Ishgardian milk tea.

{ OTHER DETAILS }

Smokes: N/A Drinks: At most twice a year, and only after being coaxed into it on occasions. Drugs: N/A Mount Issuance: The only mount he owns is the black chocobo given to him by Haurchefaunt all those years ago. It stays by his side, a reminder of a friendship that changed the course of his life. Been Arrested: I mean. You don't get a few charges of regicide without being

{ Tagged by: @thefrostflower teehee }

/playdead

[doriana-gray-games]

ROs and Important NPCs description pages

// I will probably update this page with time :)

All the ROs are gender variable while NPCs are not.

The ROs ethnicity are left mostly open for HC purposes. The game will never mention the skin colour of the ROs for the same purpose. This was the best way I could think to allow people to imagine book canon, or other media canon, or head canon, although I realise it is still not a perfect system.

ROs

All can be interacted with to different levels: romantic, platonic, and antagonistic.

The characters' looks do veer from the book canon a bit, but feel free to imagine them however you want :)

Lestrade

Police inspector and longtime coworker of Sherlock.

Grace or Gregory Lestrade

Dark hair and dark eyes

Hair colour: from black to dark brown

Eye colour: black (iris near indistinguishable to pupil)

Intense gaze and serious impression

Untidy and ungroomed appearance

Wears mostly dark clothes. Usually a long coat and their signature leather gloves.

Grace usually wears pants.

Hair length is: from below the ear to shoulder blades. 

Too thick or stubborn to run your fingers through (at least with any ease).

If needed, they might tie it in a ribbon in the back.

Grace rarely wears it up and prefers unstyled.

Figure: Thin and tall. A little malnourished because of a few years of a lack of care. Proportional bone structure, lean, wiry muscles.

Gregory has wide shoulders.

Voice: Grace has a husky voice. Gregory has a deep voice.

Additional features: Dark under eyes. A small scar across the right eyebrow.

Gregory has stubble.

Non-game-canon age: early 30s to mid-30s. Usually looks older than their age.

Watson

A former army doctor, current surgeon and a steadfast companion to Sherlock. (Also housemate).

John or Jane Watson

Hair: 

Colour is entirely up to the readers HC. 

It is soft and you can run your fingers through it. 

John has styled hair, and short to medium length. 

Jane has usually decently elaborately styled updo, and hair to about the waist when let loose.

Eyes:

Light blue with some yellow/golden central heterochromia. They might therefore appear green-grey-blue depending on the lighting condition. 

Watson’s eyes have a kind and soft appearance (towards MC).

Watson is considered a classically handsome woman/man.

Strong features

John has square and distinct facial features.  

Jane has distinct and sharp full features. 

Jane is unusually tall for a woman. Has a somewhat amazonian build and shapely long legs.

John is just above average in height. Has a muscular build and sturdy limbs.

Additional features: John is clean-shaven. Jane wears some carefully placed and subtle makeup.

Has an old injury in their right leg. 

Non-game-canon age: mid-20s to late 20s. Looks their age or older.

H

A new client of Sherlock. Wealthy and upper-class.

Helena or Hamish

Hair:

Colour is entirely up to the readers HC.

Hair is usually styled in the popular styles of the time. 

hair length: 

Helena would not have short hair, and would style it in curls or crimped updos. 

Hamish would not have very short hair or very long.

Their eyes are a deep vibrant green.

Puts a lot of effort into appearing like the ideal victorian woman/man.

Proportional and beautiful features.

Has perfect posture.

Height:

Helena is short and petite.  

Hamish is tall and athletic.

Never wears too low collars to hide a scar.

Voice: speaks softly but with certainty.

Non-game-canon age: mid to late 30s. Looks younger than their age.

Adler

A seductive stranger at the ball.

Irwin or Irene Adler

Hair: 

has at least some curling, coiling, or wave in the texture. 

Colour: brown/red/dark-blonde

Some of the strands shine as with a golden hue in natural light. 

Irene has just a lot of hair. 

Irwin’s hair is thick.

Eyes:

Colour: brown/hazel/golden.

As if adorned with flecks of gold.

Considered very beautiful and desirable.

Has at least some freckles

Average height.

Figure:

Irwin is built like a dancer with deceptively strong muscles. 

Irene is very curvaceous and wears clothes that highlights this.

Wears tight clothes.

Moves like a cat.

Non-game-canon age: Late 20s to early 30s. Looks their age or younger.

NPCs

Mrs Hudson

Sherlock and Watson’s landlady. An older widowed woman who married into some wealth. She wanted the company of exciting people more than she was in need of renters to her spare rooms. 

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock’s older brother.

The MC and Mycroft will share the same skin colour and some of the same features.

The Maid & the Footman

To be added

X

???

[zenixromeave]

zane skins/designs review!

first MCD appearance/wedding/white +gold

This is ugly as sin to be completely honest.

Okay, looking a little harder it isn’t THAT bad. The white and gold are clearly reminiscent of royalty and status, but the chosen yellow is far too on the lime green side of the spectrum to be recognizable as gold or have the same beauty as gold does. The belt looks bad, it doesn’t fit the rest of the outfit well and it would probably have given more of a priest/nun look if it weren’t present and his clothes were implied to be more drapey. This far back in his character design, his hair was also very light, giving it more of an impression of being gray than black, which thankfully she fixes eventually. The shading on the clothing- both white and gold- is very harsh and uses some really bad yellow tones (when shading with yellow, it is almost never good to take the color just closer to black, instead, making it more orange and a little darker usually makes a more aesthetically appealing color.)

There are admittedly some good, iconic features present in this design which just weren’t fully polished yet. Personally, I really like the idea of the hood, as it’s a common motif in a lot of religious clothing I feel like. Also, it looks cool, and goes well with him having a mask and covering himself.

-

main outfit (MCD)

The monochrome of this outfit works really well. All of the blacks and greys are slightly blue, lending themselves to suit his eyes nicely. The shading is nice as well. While the outfit looks good, I don’t feel the same about his face. His eyes could provide a nice pop of color, and since his clothes are tinted blue it should work, but the blue of his eyes is far too dull and light to provide any contrast or pop. Since his eyes and skin have nearly the same gray undertones, his eyes don’t pop as much as they should in a monochromatic design like this. “Also, they look like pajamas” - my boyfriend

-

other main outfit (??? this one’s white)

“This one is super ugly” - my bf

The blue crosses are too similar in color to his eyes, it draws your attention to his knees instead of his face and eyes. I think his eyes work better in this outfit though with all the white, and I like the gloves. The strap around his chest is not really recognizable as a strap and the colors in the sword are obviously awful. The brown is really bright, as is the greenish-blue color of the sword (dagger?) Also, the amount of armor and weaponry in this outfit doesn’t really make sense for him considering he rarely fights. The boots/pants situation confuses me, I don’t know what’s going on there. Are they really short shoes and black pants of almost the same color? Visually confusing and ugly. His hair is still a little bit too gray.

His mask looks like it’s really long and with a cross on it. I think that looks really good. Shoulder pads are weirdly small as well, looks goofy.

-

rebirth

Why did she make him sexy. Whats her issue

I like the belt/strap details, they add some well needed texture to the previous design. The pants/shoes situation is still confusing and hard to tell what’s what. Finally, she’s utilizing his eyes as a proper pop of color. Personally, I would make them more on the purplish side of blue, but the green tint does match his sword, so that’s a nice touch. 

-

Jury of nine transformation (I think?)

He’s big. You can’t see his face. He’s evil. Very sexy of him.

-

season 3 (shadow knight armor)

I really like the purples in this one, and I think the shading is nice. I think the red should have probably been toned down a little because it’s very harsh and yet again draws attention away from his face. I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again, the full gem swords are ugly as shit. No escaping it. They’re all bad and look tacky.

The reasoning for why his mask is shaped that way still eludes me. He’s wearing all armor in this outfit, so the same hoodie-scarf-mask made of fabric he usually wears makes even less sense. There’s definitely cooler ways to cover his face, use some creativity. At this point, she was only giving him a mask because it was an established part of his character, not because it served any narrative or aesthetic purposes.

-

beach episode (side stories)

trans ? why is he wearing that.

The shorts and top have no shading. Other than that, there isn’t much clothing to critique so... overall I think it’s kinda cute. The colors are pretty balanced, and I appreciate giving him some kind of shirt even at the beach, considering he’s usually covered head-to-toe. Not the kind of guy who should have abs though. Not everyone is Grey Fullbuster, Jess.

[realcatalina]

Unknown lady from Kunsthistorisches Museum-who is this?

Little while ago I found on Mutualart.com 19th century portrait of unknown lady, labelled as in manner of Hans Holbein the elder. Clearly it is in manner of Hans Holbein the Younger and the outfit became of immediate interest to me, due to colour of the dress and undersleeves-which are in purple/violet.

Also the medailon appear to show a bird, which two of Henry VIII’s wives had as emblem.  But clearly this is 19th century copy, so I had to first find the original(and hope it still existists). Luckily it was on Pinterest and I know now it is located Kunstishhistorie Museum in Wienna, which also has famous portrait of Jane Seymour. (But being located within same collection doesn’t prove it is same sitter and the medalion doesn’t show bird, but religuous scene.)

On their webpage it looks like this:

But who is she? And is this purple gown also? Because if it is, we’re looking at unidentified portrait of Tudor royal! 

And I have to warn you. The colours within the painting might not be as they should. 1st of all, I’ve seen how portrait of Jane Seymour looks on their webpage, and they use filter which reveals details rather well, but also gives entire painting completely different hues and somehow succeseeds in making her grey eyes turn into vivid green! 

It doesn’t seem to be case with this one. Still I cannot be certain of it.

Another issue is that the undersleeves clearly are supposed to depict crimson velvet(on right is how it is supposed to look):

The colours are very washout and entire painting is very dark.

Gown currently has this shade, but what was the original colour I can only speculate.

There are more photos of the painting online, and the shade of gowns, imo goes to dim purplish tones:

Especially this one:

But you might disaagree and think it is just wishful thinking. Perhaps it is.Problem is there is no real way to check conclusively if the gown is purple. Or rather what Tudor people would consider purple.

I am preparing post about purple dye and there were many types sea snails used to dye fabrics, and results varied greatly even at same cities.

Colours went from bright blue! Or dark violet. Or to dark or bright red, to pink! To light lilac or to dark deep purple! Or to dim colours. Really wide spectrum of colours and shades, all done by using sea snails! And majority was then called purple! Or one of their names included word purple.  

So i cannot dismiss this colour because it is not the purple you imagine! 

Perhaps I am wrong and it isn’t supposed to be purple.

However if I am right, then who the heck is the sitter?!

During Henry VIII’s reign there were several Acts of Apparel(sumptuary laws were passed in 1510, 1514, 1515, 1533.

One specifically said that only the King and his immediate family (the Queen, the King’s mother, King’s children) the King’s brothers and sisters could wear cloth of purple silk. (and presumably anything dyed purple, even if it was from other materials.)

Elizabeth of York was dead, as was prince Arthur.

Margaret Tudor never visited England while Holbein was there and as far as I know there is no record of him being in Scotland.

While I’d love to exclude Mary I immediately on account of having strawberry blond hair into golden, rather to red, I cannot exclude possibility that just as hair of Elizabeth I, her hair changed the shading as she aged. 

(But as child she was golden strawberry blond and as adult she was too.)

But I think Mary had longer forehead, but i cannot be certain:

While Mary was young in 1530s, she also had health issues already. And if this was made just after she recovered from illness, she could look much older than when fully recovered.

Given the style of French hood, we’re looking at 1538+.

So that excludes also Mary Rose, Queen of France(Henry’s sister), she died in 1533 and would never wear such style. 

Anne Boleyn’s french hood had different style (I am preparing posts about it), Jane didn’t like French hoods(so it is highly unlikely to be her) and even forbade her ladies from wearing them while at her service, and they made comeback only after she died(jumping Anne’s style immediately to one we consider 1540s). She died in late 1537. Hence 1538+ dating. 

Elizabeth is simply too young to be the sitter. The sitter is definitely older than child she was in late 1530s/early 1540s.

...

Who are we left with? (In 1538+ timeframe)

Princess Mary(future Mary I) and last 3 of Henry VIII’s wives:

(Holbein died in October/November 1543, Catherine Parr became Queen in July 1543, so he had chance to paint her!)

Which is nightmare scenario for me. 

Henry’s type was his mum, and all his wives resembled her to degree. They had similiar features( and Mary resembled her grandmother a bit too).

It’s not really that easy to tell Henry’s wives apart, ideally you’d look at the fashion to tell them apart. But in this case you can’t, because it is bound to look alike. It’s too close together.

By the way Anne of Cleves was by Henry VIII treated as his sister fallowing annulment of their marriage, so she could wear purple.

But for some reason the style seems to me purely english. Except I don’t recall any other english painting where we would have parlet black on both inside and outside. I give up. I admit defeat. I don’t know who it is nor indeed if the gown is purple. All the research proved inconclusive.

So let me know what you think about the matter. Am I chasing ghosts or am I upon something? I hope you’ve enjoyed it.

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

the changes darkness brings (Clio/Aria)

Shortly after the Keyblade War has taken place, and the Dandelions have successfully resumed life in their new world, Clio receives a special mission from the Foretellers to clear out Heartless in the Corridor of Darkness. In the process of carrying it out, she finally finds Aria again, whom she had not seen since becoming unchained - but something seems to have happened to her.. (4359 words)

Set during KHUX Quest 491; note that much of Chirithy's dialogue is taken directly from the game. Sequel to my previous piece of writing for this selfship.

Content warning for a monstrously-transformed character (or, rather, my self-insert). This is a Darkling AU.

Tag list: @starlit-selfships | @edencantstopfallininlove | @yoomtahsgf | @sunlight-ships | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @artificervaldi | @keyblade-ships (to be tagged in future work, please see this form!)

(Anyone is welcome to comment on and/or reblog my work, as long as my DNI is respected! A transcript of the document is under the readmore.)

It looked like a sunny early morning in Daybreak Town, and the tall Keyblade wielder was ready bright and early to start off her mission for the day, much like she would be on most other days. A mint-green Foxstar was happily keeping pace behind her, eagerly looking around at the familiar buildings the two passed on their way to where today's mission briefing would be given.

The only thing that could be called "out of place" was the fact that, instead of just sticking to her usual comfortable clothing, Clio was instead wearing a suit of shining spiked armour over her clothes, its light blue and dark purple details complementing her eye colour perfectly. Only her head was uncovered, but the crown of clovers that normally adorned her hair was left safely back in her room. She did not normally need - or want - to wear such serious attire, but her companion Chirithy had informed her to make sure that she was prepared for today's mission, so she thought it might come in handy to don the regalia she and the rest of the Sapphires had won for being one of the top one hundred parties in the Anguis Union.

As she made her way out onto the streets and through to one of the town's many open plazas, Chirithy popped into view in front of her, bouncing ahead to perch on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square.

"Alright then, Chirithy - what are we up to today?" she asked, following it forwards to the fountain. Despite knowing that what was coming was important, her voice kept its usual cheerful tone.

"You've been doing a fantastic job lately." it said in response. "So, I have a present for you!"

It stuck a grey paw into its signature pink purse and rustled around in there for a moment, giving Clio time to sit down next to it on the fountain's edge and watch with curiosity. Tea Leaf, her Foxstar, hopped up next to her as well, as if wondering whether he would get a present too. Finally, Chirithy found what it was looking for, and pulled out a glittering bangle that caught the rays of the rising sun spectacularly.

"Dun dada duun! The Bracelet of Light!" it exclaimed, perhaps slightly too loudly and dramatically for what felt like so early in the morning. It hopped up and pushed the bracelet over Clio's wrist, at which she grinned and leapt up again to twirl it around on her outstretched hand with a laugh.

"I'm glad you're excited, but gee, calm down." it said playfully, the light-hearted tone in its voice showing it wasn't being serious. "Why don't you put it somewhere for safekeeping?"

"Hey, a bracelet's meant for wearing!" Clio countered. She did consider dispelling the armour for a moment to put it away in her pocket underneath, but decided to keep the bracelet on her wrist instead; with how she had to hold her gauntleted hand to get it on in the first place, she was fairly confident it wouldn't fall off of its own accord.

"Thanks for this, by the way!" she told it with another smile. "It means a lot that you think I'm doing well."

"You are!" it said confidently. "But, you also need it for this upcoming mission."

"Oh yeah?"

"With that bracelet, you can protect yourself against darkness." Chirithy explained, regaining a more serious tone of voice. "You'll need it for the special mission we got from the foretellers."

"Huh? Special mission?" Clio's eyes widened slightly at this announcement. "This must be why you wanted me to come in my regalia too, I'm guessing, but- what's this mission all about, then?"

It nodded to show she had guessed correctly. "You'll be doing the same thing - you know, dealing with monsters.. Just in a different, darker place.."

As it spoke, something started to materialise in the plaza, a short distance from the fountain, and it turned to face it. The air seemed to shimmer for a moment, before a ring of dark energy suddenly appeared and transformed into an oval shape. Clio let out a "Whoa!" of surprise, and instinctively stood up from the fountain to try and get a better look at what had just appeared.

"..Wait, you mean I have to go in *there?!*" she exclaimed after a pause. Chirithy's own lack of shock, and subsequent nod in response to her question, had let her figure out that this was intentional, but she still seemed uncertain - and surprised.

"Your mission is to defeat the Heartless in the Corridor of Darkness." it continued matter-of-factly. "But be careful. That bracelet can only protect you for so long."

"Right.." Clio trailed off as she continued looking at the portal, trying to gain some idea of what would lie beyond it but only seeing flowing darkness cloud the doorway. Tea Leaf was now standing on the ground next to her, and trying to look determined, but his tail was slightly bristled due to his fur sticking up, which showed he was also uncertain.

"The fact you're wearing the Anguis Regalia will help you in there too, but there's quite a lot of targets for you to take down, so this isn't going to be easy." said Chirithy, who had really never been too good at sugarcoating things. "I'd recommend you bring your Starlight for this. Or, no, your Sleeping Lion's upgraded all the way, right? Some of your targets are magic-attribute, so having strong speed attacks will be good.."

"Thanks for your insight, Chirithy." Clio replied. Then, she walked away from the fountain, and as she did so, a winged helmet appeared on her head, matching her armour perfectly. A blue cobra, the insignia of Anguis, was emblazoned above her forehead, and her face was now protected by a sheet of purple-tinted glass. Tea Leaf let out a bark at this change, but she crouched down and ruffled his forehead gently with a smile, which was more than enough to reassure him of her presence.

The dark corridor's entrance loomed ominously before her, standing out like a sore thumb in the peaceful fountain square. Tea Leaf raced up to stand next to her, poised and ready to help as always. Chirithy's eyes narrowed as she went against its prior suggestion, choosing to summon Missing Ache again instead of her stronger Sleeping Lion, but any concerns it may have had were allayed when it spotted her determined expression through her visor.

"I'm all set!" she declared, turning to look over her shoulder with a smile.

"I knew I could count on you, kiddo." Chirithy replied. "Now go and get 'em! I'm rootin' for you!"

"I will!"

With the bracelet's light shining, her armour glinting strongly, and her Keyblade's darker colour scheme giving them both space to glow, she stepped into the corridor of darkness.

==========

The process of going through the portal was noticeably uncomfortable - it was nothing like anything that Clio had previously experienced, and the darkness felt heavy and constricting even through the armour she was wearing. Thankfully, that sense of heavy closeness opened up somewhat once she had made it into the corridor itself, but there was still a foreboding sense of discomfort that hung in the air. Red and blue threads seemed to weave their way through the floor like wires, and misty clouds of darkness obscured the details of her surroundings; everything had a sense of flowing movement to it that would almost make her feel like she was floating underwater if not for how solid the ground felt at her feet.

It only took a few moments before the first signs of trouble made themselves known to her; a Violet Waltz and a Shadow both rushed towards her quite suddenly, as if they had appeared out of nowhere from the darkness itself. Thankfully, such relatively weak Heartless were of no threat to a seasoned Keyblade wielder like Clio - she was a Sapphire for a reason, after all - and two uses of Nature's Gift were more than enough to let the rest of her Medals defeat them. Tea Leaf helped her out as well, using his tricks as a Spirit Pet to help dispel status conditions the Heartless tried to inflict on her. Even still, despite all of these advantages, she could tell that these enemies were noticeably stronger than normal as she fought them, and they also seemed to be appearing more frequently than she was used to as well.

As she tentatively made her way through the corridor, she remained aware of the bracelet on her wrist, which was giving off enough light for her to always be able to see her surroundings and not feel pressured by the darkness despite how much of it there was around her. While its presence was undoubtedly essential, especially as Chirithy had stressed its importance before starting the mission, she couldn't help but wonder whether its powerful light was somehow interfering with the Reversed Medals that she had equipped on her Keyblade. They were by no means her strongest, but she could still hold her own with the powers she had to hand - and the fact she had wielded Missing Ache since arriving in the new world with her fellow Dandelions was a sentimental gesture more than a strength-based one anyway.

It was as she found the first target that things started to take a turn.

Chirithy had told her to be on the lookout for a Darkball before moving to the next part of the corridor, and sure enough, one was now hovering idly some distance away from her. Despite its lazily-floating appearance, Clio knew that this type of Heartless was not to be underestimated, because of how they could sap an opponent's strength before raising their own. She decided not to take any chances once she had spotted it, and made a strong first strike using Ultimate Sword - the Medal's power let her summon a ring of shining swords around herself before soaring forwards to attack the Heartless three times in rapid succession. It was clearly not expecting such a powerful move, and one of Tea Leaf's tricks gave her an opportunity to strike an extra time with her attack, giving the Darkball no time to react before being soundly defeated in a burst of light and Lux.

"Alright, that's the first main target down!" she said aloud, reaching down to give Tea Leaf another well-earned head ruffle for its hard work in helping her. Her Keyblade was still in her other hand, but she felt confident in her pace, even despite how harsh the environment around her was.

It was then that she heard an unrecognisable sound, this time from behind her. And when she turned around, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

The figure looked a bit like it was crouching, touching the ground with all four limbs - its claws were a deep red, fading down into a dark blue-black that covered much of the arms and legs. However, most of the arms and legs were obscured by admittedly-tattered pieces of clothing - torn brown trousers that were ragged at the ends, a fluffy black fleece that had tears in the sleeves, the remains of a white T-shirt still draped over the body like a shroud, and what could have once been a red scarf sitting wrapped around the neck. Its messy hair was a strange mix of golden and black, and fell wildly over most of its face; two horn-like structures appeared to rise up from the top of its head, and a pair of black wings with dark red feathers jutted out from its back, looking decidedly too thin for their length.

Despite everything about what was in front of her - the powerful darkness it was emanating, the many monstrous features it possessed - it only took Clio a moment to fully recognise what could have been facing her, which happened as soon as she spotted the loops of empty red ribbon on the left side of its head.

"No.. There's- there's no way.."

Her words held denial, but she had already realised the truth. Now, she faced the awful decision of what to do next as her body shook with apprehension. In that moment, the tension paralysed her so strongly and she had gripped her Keyblade so tightly that it sputtered out and disappeared, causing her to freeze further with rising panic. The figure had seemed poised to leap when she first saw it, as if ready to attack at any moment; it held itself tensely on its claws, and a growling sound could be heard coming out of its mouth. However, at the dissipating of Clio's Keyblade, it almost seemed to settle very slightly, all of a sudden appearing like at least slightly less of a threat. Clio could see this change happen, and was filled with even more emotion at the sight of it - her relief at not being immediately attacked was quickly swallowed whole by the implications of what that meant.

When she spoke again, Clio's voice was shaking almost as much as she was.

"Aria, what *happened* to you..?"

Tears started welling up and running down her cheeks as she made the admission and said the name aloud - as she admitted that what she was looking at was painfully suspected to be the partner she had been separated from at the flight of the Dandelions, her girlfriend whom she had been forced to leave behind for the sake of escaping the war. The figure seemed to become more alert in response to her words, but gave no indication of replying, still staring up at her silently with what could possibly have been mistaken for apprehension.

It was then that Clio remembered she was wearing her regalia - a full-body suit of armour that obscured most of her features and was said to provide protection and defence against darkness. She did not normally choose to wear it for most missions - in fact, as Aria had joined the Sapphires some time after the regalia was awarded, she had actually never seen Clio wearing the whole thing herself. Taking any part of it off seemed like a death sentence, not only in such a dangerous place as a corridor of darkness, but also with such a monstrous entity present directly in front of her.. but it was the only thing Clio could think to do in her desperation and hope that she could somehow be recognised, and the idea had settled in her mind with soul-crushing finality.

"Please.. *Please* still be in there somewhere, Ari.. I- I'm trusting you..!"

With her eyes tightly shut, Clio reached up to grab her winged helmet with trembling hands. In one motion, she lifted it off of her head, only to freeze as it tumbled from her grasp, holding her breath and tensing up all over again as it landed on the floor.

And then the figure lunged forwards.

Clio had braced herself as much as she could in the state she was in, but she was still thrown down to the ground herself from the force. The impact was not as hard as she had feared, and it took her a moment to realise that this was because her head and her back had been cushioned by a pair of arms that hit the ground ahead of her. She became aware of a very slight weight on top of her as she opened her eyes - a blood-red claw was curled around the left side of her face, but no part of it dug in whatsoever, and it was even splayed as if to avoid hurting her eye by accident. Something was pressing itself into the base of her neck, but then lifted. The weight shifted, though its movement could scarcely be felt for how light it was, and Clio was met with a face - and she could finally make out the details that distance and darkness (and the purple tint of her visor) had previously clouded.

What she had briefly mistaken for horns were in fact still a pair of ears, lynx-like and lined with thick, darkness-covered fur. They poked upwards from the head of identically-coloured hair, once a dark golden blonde that had since been mostly stained with inky black, and from this lack of distance, she could finally see the figure's face clearly from beneath the messy hair. A scar ran down the left side of her face, but it hadn't healed like a normal injury would - instead, it looked like melting darkness had covered or perhaps created the wound, staining her sclera pitch-black. In fact, both eyes were now set in that same darkness, which was spreading out to form a leopard-like pattern around them. Her eyes themselves *blazed* with glowing amber, predator's pupils carving through them like slits cut by a knife - and were those tears welling up at the corners? When her mouth opened, it did so to reveal fangs that were even sharper than they had been before; they looked as though they could pierce through skin just as easily as water.

More incredibly, when her mouth opened, what came out was a warped and scratched - but still unmistakeable - voice.

"Clio.. *My* Clio.. You're here.. you're- really here.."

"*Aria-*"

"I found you.. I *found you..* I finally.. finally found you..!"

As she spoke, emotion rose up in her voice until it was shaking, and her eyes were fully filled with the same tears that Clio’s had held before. This was enough to set both of them crying into each other, hugging so tightly that it looked like they would never let go. A whirlwind of feelings - joy, exhaustion, happiness, disbelief, desperation, hope, elation, and a thousand other things - overwhelmed the pair so strongly that it was almost as if their feelings could be physically seen in the air. All that could be heard ringing out through the darkness were both of their sobs as they lay on the floor of the corridor, holding each other as much as they could out of such all-encompassing relief to have found each other again.

It was Aria’s tears that finally slowed first, but she was content to stay where she was once they had come under control, emitting a sound that almost made Clio nervous again before realising it was more of a purr than a growl this time. Finally, the Keyblade wielder caught her breath and was able to speak up herself.

“Ari, we- we should probably go. I need to get you out of here.”

“We can leave..? You can still leave?” she replied tentatively. Her voice was slightly less hoarse now considering how much she had just been crying, and would sound almost fully familiar if not for the fearful quality some of it still held. Her eyes still glowed strongly like before, and Clio could see that they kept darting about, looking at every part of her face except her own eyes directly. The familiarity of that movement was enough to make her smile, and it brought her yet another sense of relief.

"Yeah, don't worry. I know how to get out of here, and I'm not leaving without you."

She shifted to start to get off the ground, which prompted Aria to quickly move off to the side in order to let her stand. Once she was up, Clio held out her hand to help Aria stand up as well- but she flinched away upon touching the bracelet of light that still hung from Clio's wrist.

"*Ah!*"

Both of them made the same sort of sound at the same time, but Aria was holding the side of her claw as if it had caught on something sharp as Clio took a step backwards. A shock of worry shot through her system, but she was able to settle down once confident that her girlfriend had not been seriously hurt.

"Uh.. Hmm.. I don't want to keep this on if it hurts you, but I kind of need to keep it close before we get out, just in case.." Clio mumbled.

Aria stared up at her for a moment, before giving a nod. "That's.. I understand. It's- This is-"

She started shaking her hand up and down in the air, just like she sometimes used to when the right words would not come to mind for a moment.

"..This place is not safe for you." she finally settled on. "Even so- I won't let anything here hurt you."

A gentle smile appeared on Clio's face. "Thank you, Ari - that really means a lot.."

She trailed off in thought again, trying to decide what to do about the bracelet, before looking down towards the ground and catching sight of her Spirit Pet, who had dutifully been standing guard for the pair. A burst of inspiration came to mind, and she crouched low to the floor in front of him.

"Hey, Tea Leaf, could you maybe hold this for me?" she asked. As she did so, she took hold of the bracelet and managed to twist it off of her wrist. Tea Leaf let out a happy-sounding bark, and took hold of the bracelet in his mouth once Clio had shown it to him. With a few wags of his tail, he took a step back to look at Aria and Clio in succession. The bracelet still shone with the same light as before.

"You.. would really do that for my sake?" Aria asked quietly, still sitting half-upright on the floor of the corridor.

"In a heartbeat." Clio replied, once again smiling brightly. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."

For the first time in what felt like far too long, Aria smiled back, and she took Clio's hand with as much softness as her claws could muster. It was easy for Clio to help her stand up, and she used the momentum to embrace her love once more, before quickly letting go to let her lead the way out.

In a flash of green-tinged darkness, Clio summoned Missing Ache once again, and reached around with her other hand as soon as she sensed Aria flinch behind her at its materialising. A part of her was sad that even Keyblades with such a strong Reversed focus, and the Keyblade she had been wielding ever since having to leave Aria behind because of that focus, triggered such a strong instinctive response in her now; but any concerns that were building dissipated just as easily when she felt her girlfriend's hand - now clawed, and now stained, but still *hers* - hold on gently to her own.

Light flooded into the corridor as an entryway was made within it with the Keyblade, the way out shining blindingly with the might of the breaking day. Aria lowered her head behind Clio's shoulder to hide from its brightness, so she gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, always reminding her that she was there for her again now. The pair stepped through the portal together, keeping close to one another as Tea Leaf brought up the rear.

"Your mission is to defeat the Heartless in the Corridor of Darkness."

That was what Chirithy had said to her, what felt altogether like so recently and so long ago back at the fountain.

Instead, she had abandoned her mission entirely just after starting it, and while what was left of Aria's clothing made it unclear whether she now bore an Emblem on her chest, Clio knew in her heart that a Heartless was who was now following her back into the world that was supposed to be light-filled.

Even so, she was firm in her decision, and knew that she was doing the right thing - love and care for the people she cared about had always been more dear to her than mindlessly following rules, after all.

There could be time for tricky questions after everything had settled - after she had held her arm out over Aria's eyes upon stepping back out into Daybreak Town, after she had breathed a sigh of relief to see the plaza still empty, after she had successfully made it back to her room and closed the curtains to make the space as dark as possible for Aria to relax and remain in.

For now, all that mattered was that the two had finally fulfilled their earlier promise, and come back to each other once more.

[ajgrey9647]

Architectural Reconstruction of the Innermost Self/Painting the Red Door Black

Song Fic inspired by Paint It Black performed by Ciara

Fists hammered in terror upon the heavy door, smears of blood streaking the metal from split knuckles and wildly clawing fingers. The bright, scarlet liquid did not register to Jason in his frenzied mental state nor did the stinging pain from the fresh wounds. Battering the door like a butterfly in a glass jaw was the only measure of relief he could find in the isolation room.

I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

The slow cracks etching their way down the beams of his mental architecture was more painful than he’d ever considered. Priding himself on his physical toughness, Jason was left breathless by Drakkon’s cold psychological scalpel. The tyrant was literally driving him insane.

I see a line of cars and they're all painted black With flowers and my love both never to come back I see people turn their heads and quickly look away Like a newborn baby, it just happens every day

The Red Ranger’s innermost self was being eviscerated, the intricate structure of his mind under demolition and reconstruction despite his resistance. The large sunny rooms with their rich red tapestries shuddered and creaked with the steady accumulation of pressure. His core identity, personality, memories, values were weaved upon these unfurled banners.

I look inside myself and see my heart is black I see my red door I must have it painted black Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

Stitch by stitch the red threads began to unravel, row after row, dissolving into nothingness, a blank slate. The agony of this action was indescribable. Jason felt that he himself was fading. The lights were dimming in those rooms, growing ominously dark, leaching the familiar comforting red into oblivion.

The hope Jason had hidden away in this sacred place sputtered and winked out of existence. Drakkon had always told him that no one would ever come to save him and he wasn’t lying this time. His friends already thought him dead, no was coming to rescue a ghost.

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue I could not foresee this thing happening to you If I look hard enough into the setting sun My love will laugh with me before the morning comes

And that’s what he felt he was becoming, as he finally dropped to his knees on the rough floor. Shredded, torn fingers tangled in his unruly, greying mane as wails and screams of pure misery passed his dry, split lips. He yanked harshly at the handful of hair, ripping it from his scalp.

Hateful whispers blew through the darkening rooms of his mind.

‘Failure.’

‘Weakling.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘You deserve to be an animal.’

‘Atone.’

The demented tendrils of Drakkon’s new floorplan seeped into and through the cracks of Jason’s mind, rearranging and shifting and redecorating. The blighted and horrendous updates could not be stopped no matter how his mind resisted and fought. A new color was taking center stage, snuffing out the remaining crimson.

Black.

I wanna see it painted, painted black Black as night, black as coal I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky

The new tapestries glimmered into reality from an unseen loom, weaving Drakkon’s programming into the fabric. They snaked along the black walls, hanging like silk about the rooms above the lush ebony furniture.

Dangers nested within the shadowy corners. No escape, no where to run inside your own mind. The last vestiges of Jason Scott huddled in the middle of the main room, pleading for help in a place where no one else could be found. The swirling, billowing blackness crept closer, teasingly licking the last red glimmer.

‘No! Stop! Please, don’t do this!’

From the depth of a far corner, ember canine eyes opened with a soft swish of a thick, heavy tail. Clack of nails on dark, hardwood floor as the creature rose from the shadows. The large dog’s head came into view first, startling Jason’s surviving red. Sharp, white teeth showed brightly against the lifted muzzle as it bounded to stand protectively around the vulnerable color.

Drakkon peered into Jason’s dark eye, the white left one staring sightlessly ahead. His captive was teetering on a tightrope; he just needed a featherlight push now.

I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors any more, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

Hmm, hmm, hmm...

“Come now, my good boy,” he cooed. “You’ve resisted long enough. Now it’s time to learn obedience and take your place at my knee.”

[wistful-gremlin]

The Goblins of Wyrmspine

before I get into this one, I wanted to put a disclaimer/general blurb at the top, as this particular part of the project I was trying to be incredibly careful with. As a fantasy lover, I knew I wanted to include many traditional fantasy creatures in the world of Wyrmspine, while still putting my own twist on them. While this was a simple task for most, the goblins of Wyrmspine introduced somewhat of a dilemma. goblins have historically been both a staple of the fantasy genre, and a vehicle for antisemitic caricatures an stereotypes. As a fantasy lover, I wanted to include them in Wyrmspine, but had to understand throughout the process that, first and foremost, before my own personal feelings, I had to make sure that my portrayal of goblins was in no way damaging towards jewish people. I didn't want them to be represented in a way that would encourage stereotypes, antisemitism, or cruelty. I believe that fantasy worldbuilding can and should be an outlet for creativity, adventure, and curiosity, and that if the worlds I create enable hatred, or make people feel unwelcome in my work, then I have fundamentally failed as a creator. That being said, while I try as hard as I can, I am imperfect, and sometimes despite my best efforts, there is an element that I have not considered, and things can slip through the cracks. If something has slipped through the cracks now, I urge you to let me know so I can address it as soon as possible. Now, onto the main event.

The Goblins of Wyrmspine

Goblins are a heavily communal, subterranean race. As a rule, they have very little concept of “private property,” with a small number of exceptions, with all resources necessary for survival and comfort being shared among the group. Because of their environment, they rely heavily on sound for navigation and identification. Many goblins will carry around pouches of things that make pleasant sounds that aren’t natural to their environment, many learning to create coins from metal, and polish gems specifically for this purpose. Hearing this sound will identify them as other goblins, even if they can’t be seen. This helps differentiate the sound of breathing and footsteps between friend, and foe. Other goblins will attach windchimes to their belts, or wear shiny articles of clothing or items of jewelry. This allows them to be more visible to other members of the community, as these items will reflect light, and make sounds when they hit against each other. Shiny items are also placed as markers in certain important places, as their reflective nature allows them to be seen from a distance. This is mainly to help younger members of the community, as while most adults have memorized the layout of the cave systems they live in, younger children have not, and greatly benefit from visual guides. This can often lead to misunderstandings between goblins and other humanoids venturing into cave systems, as those without auditory markers can be mislabeled as a threat and attacked.

Goblins tend to be short, and have grey-green skin, similar in color to mossy rocks, which allows them to blend in with their surroundings and squeeze into small crevices to avoid dangerous cavern-dwelling predators. They most commonly have brown eyes, though some may have blue or green eyes. Their hair is also most commonly brown, but can also be black, or a similar grey-green to their skin. Their ears are large, and somewhat bat-like, to better enable them to navigate through audio cues. 

[radical-superstar-daycare]

Tried coming up with some potential color palettes for Poppy, Buddy, Wynter, and Rascal

I got four done for Poppy, then when I tried saving anything for Buddy's, the app I was using started acting up on me. Apparently you're only allowed to save 10 individual colors before it starts charging money, which,,,, I don't get, but whatever

Some explanations for these under the cut, because yeah

First off, these would only be for their body, hair, and eye colors. I wasn't factoring clothes into this or anything

For Poppy's- the two shades of purple would be the main colors of his body. For two of the versions, I was thinking his eyes might be blue, with pink and green as accent colors. Then in the other two versions, the purples stay the same, but blue and green were the accent colors and orange was his potential eye color

For Buddy's- the varying shades of blue would be his primary colors, with grey being the accent color. I also considered green as an accent color too, but eh. Then for contrast, I figured that it might look cool if his eyes were red

For Wynter's- white and the really light blue-grey were the primary colors on her body. The darker grey and black (or teal, if you're looking at the second version) would be the colors of her hair. Then lastly, red was for her eyes. I'm a little iffy on keeping her eyes red though, because I don't want any repeating eye colors (given that Buddy's might end up being red)

For Rascal's- the first two lighter shades of green would be the primary colors on his body. The darker green and brown-green could be for his hair (if he ends up having hair, since idk yet), and the bright yellow-green color would possibly be for his eyes

[nrrrdgrrrl2002]

A Big Problem

Part Two

“The two entered the lair. It was surprisingly empty. “Where are the guys?” April asked.

Casey still held a hand to his head. The off feeling from the laser not going away.

“Patrol?” He said. “Hmm. Maybe. I’ll go check the kitchen. You go to Donnie’s lab” she said as she walked away.

“Alright” Casey said as he did what she said. He went into the lab and sat on a metal table as he felt lightheaded.

The air felt a bit thick. He considered taking off his mask for a moment to breathe but was worried about april walking in.

April checked the kitchen and saw no one. She noticed a note on the fridge and decided to look.

“Dad wants us to do special training at the farmhouse. Hope you don’t mind april. See ya bros later.

-Mikey”

“They couldn’t ask first?” April muttered, slightly annoyed at the boys just going to stay at her childhood home without her permission.

She walked to the lab to show Casey the note. She saw him sitting on the table, tugging his shirt collar.

“The guys left to do training at the farmhouse” she told him, handing him the note.

Casey thought for a second. “Shouldn’t they have asked you first?” He asked, remembering it was originally her place.

“That’s what I thought!” April smiled, glad Casey thought the same thing. “Oh well. How are you doing?” She asked as she sat next to him.

“Ok. But is the air thicker here than usual or is it just me?” He asked as he had a hand to his chest.

April thought. “I don’t think so. But I’m more used to it” she responded. “Maybe we should go home and have Donnie check when he gets back” she said.

Casey… really didn’t wanna go home tonight. More than usual. Would it be rude to ask?

“I’d…. I’d rather not go home tonight, honestly” he stated. “Ok. Want me to stay here with you?” She asked.

Casey didn’t wanna force her… but he didn’t wanna be alone either..

“Won’t your dad be worried?” He asked. “Nah! I’ll make something up. I’d rather hang out with my bestie anyway” she responded.

Casey let out a small chuckle. “I thought middy was your bestie?” He said.

“I can have more than one bestie.” She said as she playfully pushed him, laughing.

Casey looked at her as she laughed. She had a big smile with her cute vampire fangs being prominent. Her Star like irises made her look extra joyful as her light pink skin, pastel orange hair and calm yellow, blue and white outfit made her look like the embodiment of a warm sunrise.

He couldn’t help smiling under his mask as he looked at her. She calmed down and looked back at him with green blue eyes.

He quickly looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed. She looked at him, feeling his embarrassment and wanting to give him a minute.

She thought about his appearance as she looked at him waiting. He was so covered up it was hard to see him himself. His clothes were a mix of blacks, greys and dark greys. The only color sticking out was his dark green scarf. She could see a little of his skin via his fingerless gloves. It looked like he had claws in his slightly grey skinned fingers. His eyes appeared to have black sclera around his silver eyes but she chalked it up to his mask. Looking at him reminded her of a foggy graveyard.

As she looked at him, something seemed… different.

“Wanna watch a movie?” She asked. He looked back at her. “Sounds great” he said. “Awesome!” She said as she jumped down.

She wasn’t sure if she should bring it up but…

“Did you get taller by the way?” She asked. Casey gave her a surprised look.

“I don’t…. Think so?” Casey responded. With everything else he has to deal with, the last thing he needs is another growth spurt.

“Alright. I’ll go pick a movie” she said. “I’ll make popcorn then” he said as he got down.

“You think the turtles will be alright with us using their stuff?” She asked. “Hey. They didn’t ask to stay at your house. Fair is fair” he responded.

April giggled. “True” she said as she walked away. He walked across the living room to get to the kitchen while april looked through vhs tapes.

As he got halfway there, he felt really funny. He leaned on a wall as his brain felt like jello. He must be having bad vertigo.

April heard him fall to the floor. “Woah woah. You ok?” She asked as she ran to him.

“Y-yeah… just… just bad vertigooo” he groaned as he felt like his insides were shifting.

April went up to him but jumped back in a panic. Casey looked at her, confused as to why she looked freaked out.

“Oh my god..” she muttered, scared and worried for Casey as she saw what was happening…”

[rightpastnowhere]

16 - Appearance Headcanon for any of Percy's deceased siblings you feel like oooooorrrr. 10, sleep headcanon for Cassandra.

headcanon ask meme

16. appearance - de rolo siblings

your mistake was saying any, and so now i will do All

julius: i’d think it be really funny if he was shorter than vesper and percy both. so i headcanon that he was shorter than both of them, and that would have been shorter than all of the de rolos (except for whitney and cass) if they’d all grown into their adult heights. i think he would have had the lightest hair (medium brown, maybe some natural blond streaks), as well as the least-pasty skin (but still pale), because he’s the one who goes out and about the most often. blue eyes, darkish blue, and a more square-ish face, his jaw still not quite yet sharpened out from his lil baby face by the time the briarwoods attack. also VERY curly hair. and some light freckles

vesper: i headcanon her as second tallest next to percy - maybe about 5’10? - because i’m tall and like when other ladies are tall. it fuels me. she was taller than percy until he hit that pre-teen growth spurt, and she was quietly pissed about it. medium brown hair, a lil darker than leona & wolfe’s hair color, and it would have been curlier if she didn’t keep it so long - the weight of it drags it down into loose curls/waves. i think she’d wear it half-up most of the time, up enough to be out of the way but not looking too severe or grown up. grey-blue eyes, similar to what i headcanon for percy but more grey than blue. i think she’d be pretty fit, considering all the horseback riding and fencing and other noble whatnot, and also because she grew up play-fighting with julius and they keep that competition going with sparring

whitney: the older twin, but oliver always denied it. i think she’d have the lightest hair out of the de rolos, still brown but just lighter, and that it’s because of some of johanna’s genes. i think she’d keep it cut short, which started when she cut it herself (with oliver’s help) when she was five. it wasn’t exactly rebellion, but more general mischief and also “blegh i hate my hair”. i think she would be the shortest of the de rolos, once they all grew up, and was constantly threatening to bust kneecaps if you called her out for her height. i imagine her with green eyes that sometimes looked hazel, and a little button nose that stood out from the line of de rolo noses

oliver: i headcanon him taller than whitney by like 4 inches, and that he never shut up about it. brown hair that’s lighter than vesper’s, but darker than percy’s was. i imagine him trying to grow it out to wear in one of those cool lil ponytails, but he never managed to get it past this awkward, wavy mullet that his siblings gave him so much shit for. his eyes would be green like whitney’s, but they kinda just stayed green instead of looking hazel sometimes. he and whitney didn’t look much more similar than they did to the rest of their siblings, but they did make the exact same expressions all the damn time. especially the glares when they’re angry, and shit eating grins when they’re up to something

ludwig: i think he would look the most like percy - same color hair but much curlier, similar eye colors (more blue than percy’s), same eyebrows, same nose, with the latter two being de rolo traits. very lanky and awkward, still growing into his arms and legs as a baby teenager. i imagine him being a clumsy kid, so he’d have a collection of little nicks-and-bumps scars, but very minor ones that are mostly covered by his regular clothes. he differed from percy by being a bit less pale because he actually went outside lol. had some pale freckles, too, on his cheekbones

10. sleep - cassandra

cass and percy have the worst sleep schedules known to man, the both of them, and it drives vex up a wall. cass stays up late working, and gets up early, because every hour asleep is an hour wasted - and that’s nothing compared to the five years she lost under the briarwoods. she also struggles with nightmares, but it’s quieter than with percy has them - and they tend to leave her disoriented more often than percy’s do.

i also think she’d always end up holding something in her sleep - either a pillow or herself. and it’s always tightly, too, curling into herself. a childhood habit that she never grew out of, and one she can’t really break despite being forced to grow up so fast. vex mentions “casually” that she’ll sleep holding a pillow sometimes if she’s away during a trip, so she doesn’t wake up with arms cramping. cass doesn’t say anything, but tries that, and sleeps a bit easier