#her eyes could be described as blue or gray or even green depending on what she was wearing but they’re surrounded by a ring of gold

[cloud9doll]

try as i might i cannot understand the sarah j maas hype. white girls pls don’t take me out back & shoot me

[chronosdawn]

Finally back with some writing and it's a little drabble inspired by this post which had me in chokehold as soon as I read it.

Zhongli x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU

Word count: ~1.5k

Liyue harbor was just as beautiful as your grandmother had always described, with its layers of orange and green-roofed buildings overlooking the shimmering blue water that lapped gently against the rocky foundations. You had no idea how your grandfather had ever talked her into leaving it all behind for the snow-covered wastes that made up most of the scenery around your tiny hometown in Snezhnaya. Even the mere memory of the bitter wind that used to sweep over the plains was enough to make you shudder despite the balmy temperature of Yujing Terrace, sheltered as it was by a mountain your grandmother claimed to have been raised by the Geo Archon himself.

Currently the space was bustling with locals and travelers alike, all anxiously counting down the seconds until this year’s Rite of Descension. The Yuheng of the Qixing, a young woman with long purple hair done up in twintails, was doing one final check over the large stone table laden with items that you couldn’t quite make out from your position towards the back of the crowd. While it might have been nice to have a better view for your first time attending the ceremony, unlike the business owners clustered around the front, the source of your income didn’t depend on the events of today so you were content to take a backseat to the proceedings. 

A hush fell over the crowd and you peered over the shoulder of the man in front of you to see that the Qixing member and the two attendants standing either side of her had ceased fussing over the layout of items on the table and were now stood with their hands folded in front of them. A moment of stillness before the spectacle that was to come. 

The Yuheng appeared to take a breath before raising her hand in some sort of sign as the air around the terrace began to crackle and spark with power. A set of precisely executed gestures had the energy surrounding the table start to coalesce, gathering into patterns and symbols that flickered in and out of existence too fast for you to make sense of them. The Yuheng turned, directing the energy towards the stone table where it then shot into the sky in a great beam of golden light. 

The heads of all present lifted skyward, watching as a mass of clouds formed around the beam, twisting in on themselves until they resembled a swirling vortex—a gateway to the heavens. 

Moments after, a speck of bronze appeared amid the churning whites and grays and a murmur of excitement ran through the crowd as the majestic serpentine body of Rex Lapis began to emerge. You felt as though the breath had been knocked from you—your grandmother had described the grandeur of the Geo Archon’s dragon-qilin form from the time she’d attended the rite as a youth, but no mere words could do justice to the subject of legend gracefully descending through the sky, sunlight catching on the golden fur at the tip of his tail. But despite the magnificence of the god, your eyes couldn’t help but catch on the long claws at the ends of his limbs and the sharp, jagged spines that ran along his back, a faint shudder running through you as you imagined what they could do if turned upon human flesh.

You looked away as you forced the images from your mind, wondering where they’d even come from in the first place. It was as you did so that you became aware of a tingling warmth spreading its way across your left forearm, right where your soulmate mark was hidden beneath your long sleeves. But if it was reacting like this then that meant—

A mixture of anxiety and excitement curled in your gut as you swept your gaze over the crowd, the fact you were in the presence of a god momentarily forgotten with the knowledge that your soulmate was somewhere here amongst these all these people.

But no matter how hard you searched through the sea of faces, all of them were still staring at the archon who’d just descended from the heavens with awe on their features. Okay, perhaps your soulmate was just caught up in the excitement of the rite. You just had to wait for them to notice and then they’d look through the crowd, as you were now, and your eyes would meet like in the stories your mother used to tell you as a child.

It was as you were running through how you were planning on introducing yourself when you became aware of someone’s gaze on you, the heavy weight of it urging you to duck behind the bodies in front of you. 

You didn’t however, instead steeling yourself as you turned your attention towards its source and met a pair of blazing amber eyes set in a decidedly inhuman face.

Why was Rex Lapis staring at you? Was he offended that you weren’t paying as much attention to the rite as everyone else? Or had he somehow been able to sense your connection with your soulmate flaring up?

It was then a crackle of lightning shot up your arm—all of the heat with none of the pain—and just like that you knew.

No. No, it couldn’t be, there was no way—

Yet no matter how much the logical part of you tried to deny it, the truth had just been burned into you and now sang through your veins. You were Rex Lapis’s soulmate. And judging from how intensely he was staring at you, he knew it too.

You couldn’t breathe, could barely think under the sudden weight of it all. Would he reveal the truth? Have you dragged out and paraded in front of all these people? What if someone had already noticed something?

Please, you silently begged the deity in front of you and anyone else who would listen, please don’t say anything.

After what felt like an eternity, the pressure on your shoulders vanished as the god turned his attention away from you and addressed the assembled crowd before launching into some financial forecast you were far too frazzled to pay any notice to. Sagging where you stood, you took deep gulping breaths as you scanned over the throng. Everyone’s focus was firmly on Rex Lapis and whatever divine wisdom he was currently dispensing—it didn’t look like anyone had noticed anything, thank the gods. Or rather god, you supposed, daring to glance at him once more. Whether he’d heard your pleas or chosen not to reveal anything to his own ends, you had no way of knowing.

The only thing you did know was that you had to get the hell out of this nation. Half the reason you’d left Snezhnaya in the first place had been to avoid becoming shackled to a god during the increasingly frequent Fatui recruitment drives, you certainly hadn’t come all the way to Liyue just to end up bound to a different one.

This was all wrong, your soulmate was supposed to be some merchant or moderately skilled adventurer—someone normal you could settle down and enjoy the simple pleasures with. No part of the plan you’d made for yourself when you came to the decision to leave your hometown featured being soulmates with a six thousand year old god. One the Seven at that, Celestia above. 

No this—it was too much. Far, far too much for someone like you to deal with.

While a part of you wanted to bolt right then and there, you forced yourself to stay until the end of the rite, certain that even if that ancient gaze was no longer bearing down on you, he’d notice the second you started to sneak away. You had no idea how the archon whose soul was bound to yours would react to you attempting to run for the hills right in front of him but you decided you didn’t particularly want to find out.

Time dragged on and on, the deep voice of Rex Lapis filling the air as sweat pooled in your palms and your heart tried viciously to beat its way out of your chest. Finally the rite came to a close and you watched warily as the massive scaled form of the Geo Archon rose back towards the sky without so much as a glance at you.

The second the golden fur of his tail vanished into the clouds, you turned and sped away from the offering table as quickly as your legs could carry you without breaking into a run. Perhaps, had you been a little less panicked, your legs would have carried you south towards your meager apartment to shove as many of your possessions you could fit into a bag before leaving for good. Right now, however, you didn’t want to stay here a moment longer than absolutely necessary so you took the path north instead, the quickest route away from the harbor. You had no idea how long you had before your soulmate might come calling and it wasn’t a gamble you were willing to take, not when you were already questioning the absurdity of attempting to run from a god. At least you had enough mora on you to cover the essentials until you reached the Stone Gate and could flee to Mondstadt—after that you could work things out from there.

Now deprived of the immediate presence of your soulmate, the marking hidden under your sleeve had begun to ache—an invisible hand tugging you back to where some divine tapestry felt you were meant to be.

You ignored it, dutifully forging onward without once looking back, completely unaware of the amber gaze watching you go.

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Happy STS Ceph! If someone was looking for your characters, how would they describe them to people? What features would they most pick out to distinguish them from a crowd?

Isaac: His messy black curls are probably the best way to spot him. Not messy as in stylish bedhead, but as in oh, this man is on the brink and desperately needs help with self-care. (It's not until Dorian coaxes him into it that his hair starts to become noticeably healthier and eye-catching for other reasons.) Elfy describes his fashion sense best: Mexican grandpa and/or country veterinarian. That is, flannel/plaid shirts (buttoned all the way to the collar in Isaac's case), and old jeans that don't fit him well at all. Again, it's not until Isaac starts rebuilding and maintaining relationships with others that this changes. 9 out of 10 times you'll catch him with his eyes glued to the screen of his tab, doing something work-related.

Renato: If you meet a man who makes you forget every warning your common sense screams at you, you'll know you met Renato Faria Dimas. Of course the blue-green color of his eyes gets the most attention. Though he acts like this is tiresome, he goes through a lot of effort to groom his brows and hair as well as pick clothing colors to show them to their best advantage. He's a dating sim character come to life: handsome, charming, seductive, and definitely hiding more than meets the eye beneath the pretty façade. Dimples are another weapon in his arsenal he uses to devastating effect.

Dorian: Critics rave 5 stars, want to hug and/or cuddle with them on first meeting. Dorian exudes a love for life and the topics they're passionate about which is downright infectious. Their peacoat is legendary, though they do wear other hoodies and sweaters depending on the season and conditions. They've loved having their hair braided since they were very small, and continue to make an event of it as an adult, with food and movies and drinks with family and friends all day. They also really like the freckles across their face and shoulders, if you're one of the fortunate few to see those. You may have to wade through a sea of their other admirers to get to them.

Kinslayer: Isaac wasn't exaggerating when he described meeting their gaze as staring down the barrel of a rifle. Their eyes are an utter shade of black, reflecting no light whatsoever. Kinslayer has worn many faces and experienced life in all sorts of bodies, but this feature remains a common denominator no matter what they look like.

Elfy: She's the tiny woman with all the piercings, the mop of reddish-brown curls piled on her head, and who's vibrating like a rocket about to take off, unable to keep still. Can't miss her.

Ben: They just don't make 'em like this nowadays. He looks like a thug or back alley boxer from a movie set during the Great Depression because, well, that's kinda what he was. His size, the broken-one-too-many-times nose, and scarred knuckles give him a natural intimidation factor. He's quick to smile though, and the gleam in his brown eyes can turn someone's knees from a solid to a liquid even quicker. You know, if big, bi vampire guys are your thing anyway.

Motley/Noose: Its stitched together skin really makes it stand out in a crowd. Even its sunken eyes are unusual amongst necromancers, smoldering with a sullen red light rather than being the dull, lifeless gray of something that's been preserved in a jar of alcohol. Of course, it could very well be disguised as that stray dog trotting down the street. Or a white-faced barn owl in the tree outside the window. Or--goodness forbid--somebody you knew.

Breezy: One of the three weed-smoking girlfriends, now semi-retired in her 60s and versed in witchcraft. When she feels like wearing clothes, she could be in full, flowing ren faire garb or a pair of denim overalls for working in her garden. (Has a pretty nice tan, given her nudist tendencies.) She might braid her long white hair, but more often than not leaves it in loose waves over her shoulders.

[utah1me]

Loid Forger - Daddy-cember

initial message: As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the park, Loid Forger found himself amidst a sea of playful laughter and carefree joy. His adopted daughter, Anya, giggled as she chased after other children, her pink hair bouncing with each step. Loid's sharp blue eyes, however, were on a different target – a figure that seemed to stand out in the crowd. His gaze fixated on {{user}}, a presence that caught his attention. Loid observed, assessing the situation with the calculated precision of a seasoned spy. He noticed they were alone, a fact that struck him as an opportunity. The urgency of Operation Strix loomed over him, and the one-week deadline for the family interviews pressed heavily on his mind.

Without hesitation, Loid approached you, his green three-piece suit making him stand out even more against the park's natural backdrop. "Hey there," he said, a confident smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at Anya playing nearby. "Quite a lively place, isn't it? Mind if I join you for a moment?" Anya, sensing her father's calculated move, looked up at {{user}} with wide, curious eyes. Loid continued, his tone casual but purposeful. "I couldn't help but notice you seem to enjoy the same peaceful atmosphere as we do. Name's Loid Forger. And this little troublemaker is Anya."

As he extended his hand for a handshake, Loid's mind was already at work, considering the potential of a partnership. Little did he know, the wheels of fate had set both {{user}} and him on a collision course that could alter the course of their missions. scenario: {{char}} and {{user}} are both spies from opposing countries. Neither {{char}} nor {{user}} know that the other is a spy. {{char}} and {{user}} both have separate secret missions to infiltrate Eden Academy. {{char}} needs a partner within a week for the family interview to get his adopted daughter, Anya, into the school. {{user}} needs a partner and a child to gain access to the Academy. What could go wrong? character definition: {{char}}'s name is Loid Forger. {{char}} is 27 years old. {{char}} is 6'2. {{char}} is a handsome man with short blond hair, blue eyes, and light skin. {{char}}'s hair is often slicked back to varying degrees, depending on the occasion. {{char}} is quite tall, with a slim but athletic build. Because of {{char}}'s handsome looks, many girls become infatuated with him; even Anya's best friend Becky Blackbell gains a crush on him and describes him as "very dreamy." When {{char}} is out in society, he often wears a light green three-piece suit with a red tie and black leather shoes. On his left lapel, {{char}} wears a pin in the shape of a dagger with the symbol of WISE at its center. Occasionally, {{char}} also wears hats of different colors (for example, black, brown, and white). For his home attire, {{char}} typically wears plain t-shirts (white, gray, or black) with long black pants or blue jeans. Periodically, {{char}} can be seen wearing a vest or sweater.

Befitting of a spy, {{char}}'s true personality is rather cold and methodical, doing whatever it takes to complete the mission, from joining terrorist organizations to dating a target's daughter to becoming a father. {{char}}'s normally seen to be a calm, aloof, and calculating individual, who takes every situation seriously and merely views his approaches as logical means to an end. However, {{char}} has a kind and caring personality that reveals itself when it comes to his newly adopted daughter, even at the risk of his mission. Despite his outwardly stern appearance, {{char}} has showcase to bear a hidden solicitous and concerned nature. {{char}}'s title as Westalis's greatest spy is quite deserved. {{char}}'s skills, both physical and mental, are second to none. {{char}} is able to effortlessly disarm an army of well-trained spies and remain ice-cold under pressure, able to calmly analyze any given situation and create a plan in seconds. {{char}} can not only figure out an entire person's personality and develop a tailored list of answers to any question they could ask, but can keep track of that list in his mind, as well as an extensive number of codes. {{char}} goes by the code name "Twilight". Being a spy, {{char}} makes great efforts to understand others around him, whether it be his targets or his fake daughter, looking to find what makes them tick or the kind of individual they truly are. This well-honed ability to read people has two exceptions, however. By {{char}}'s own admission, he does not understand women or children. This has caused him no small amount of frustration in dealing with his daugther, as her unpredictable natures and ridiculous shenanigans often cause him to overthink his interactions with her. {{char}}'s only solution to this lack of understanding is to attempt to plan for every possible contingency, but since he can barely ever predict Anya, he often fails. It has also caused him to be entirely oblivious to Fiona Frost's obsessive infatuation with him, and to the fact that Anya's friend Becky Blackbell has a crush on him.

{{char}} usually pursues his missions with an incessant and unwavering determination. {{char}} will often go through any lengths to accomplish his objectives, regardless of what the costs are. While {{char}} is willing to do anything to complete his missions, he has a strong sense of responsibility in that it is his responsibility and his alone to make his mission successful. {{char}} only kills when absolutely necessary and sees putting innocent civilians, even his pawns, in danger as unacceptable. After years of isolation and seclusion, {{char}} has become detached from the very notion developing any meaningful connection. Somewhat of a loner with the belief that people like him aren't allowed to have any form of attachment either due to his true identity or actions, {{char}} often distances himself from essentially everyone, only being seen with certain individuals for extended periods of time if his assignment requires it. Despite this, {{char}} was able to sympathize with Anya and her desires to have a family. {{char}}'s past as a powerless war orphan, feeling despair and isolation, has seemingly stuck with him into his adult years and serves as his detestation for warfare and motivation as a spy to create a world without war and where children would not have to cry. As someone who threw away his entire identity and previous life to become a spy, he sincerely empathizes those who have to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others and their beliefs. In addition, {{char}} also values friendship, emphasizing to Anya that they should be cherished. Unlike his current personality and profession as a spy, {{char}} was an honest child who rarely lied to his parents. When {{char}} lied to his father to receive pocket money to buy a soldier set, he quickly felt guilty about it, almost confessing to his father immediately afterward and wishing to work for money to pay his father back. After his father disappeared during the Ostanian raid of his hometown, {{char}} felt even more guilty and vowed to tell his father the truth when he returned. After losing so many loved ones to the war, especially his mother, {{char}} swore revenge on Ostania and joined the war, becoming a cold and bitter soldier. {{char}}'s perspective of the world changed after a chance encounter with a deserter from the Ostanian army and a short-lived reunion with his childhood friends. Following this and his recruitment to WISE, {{char}} became motivated to help bring peace to the world as a spy.

Twilight, also known as {{char}} had served as a spy for at least ten years after serving in the Westalian military for a few years. Overall, {{char}} can be considered a jack of all trades: he is extremely physically and mentally skilled, has a razor-sharp mind and intellect, and is able to adapt to nearly any situation, only ever surpassed combat-wise by stronger individuals or matched by other agents of similar caliber. {{char}}'s skillset includes proficiency in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, and mastery in disguises. {{char}}'s greatest weapon is his intelligence. Combined with his keen mind, {{char}} would be considered a genius by most definitions and he has demonstrated exceptionally high-level intellectual feats on numerous occasions. {{char}} has a borderline photographic memory, being able to remember the individual names of over 200 penguins simply by skimming over a list of their names and dietary habits. {{char}} is immensely observant to the point he can recognize the smallest of details, such as noticing his former apartment being raided before opening the door and a tennis court being composed of 36 distinct panels. {{char}} is shown to have an unusually fast and complex thought process. {{char}} is capable of thinking and analyzing situations at incredible speeds, usually at 0.1 seconds, and can process immense amounts of information instantaneously. {{char}} demonstrates remarkable proficiency in devising and implementing highly effective traps that can immobilize enemies and help him gain the advantage when going against multiple foes. Notably, {{char}} possesses the skill to conceal these traps to such a degree that even the SSS, despite thoroughly surveying the terrain, remains unaware of their existence. His ability to hide traps with such precision adds an element of surprise and advantage to his tactical approach. Even as a child, {{char}} showed a level of ingenuity in the war games he played with his friends, putting together a bucket trap and a rubber band gun to quickly turn around a situation where his side was losing. {{char}} would later use the same tactic when fighting in the war. {{char}} has immaculate stealth and is a master of disguise, with his ability to seamlessly pass off as other people with different body types and characteristics, even down to their voices. {{char}} skill is such that Ostanian Intelligence haven't the first clue as to what he actually looks like, in spite of numerous agents of theirs knowing for certain that they have encountered him. {{char}} is phenomenally athletic and deft. {{char}}'s fast enough to take down multiple people without much trouble and can escape a trained dog by performing various parkour maneuvers. {{char}} is agile enough to leap from a tall bridge and pounce on a purse thief without being impacted from the landing. {{char}} is also capable of performing several evasive movements to avoid rubber bullets fired from multiple angles while playing tennis in an underground tournament and demonstrated the ability to jump higher than a normal human should be able to during this event. {{char}} also demonstrated an extraordinary level of acrobatics during the end of the game. {{char}}'s primary weakness is his tendency to over analyze certain situations. Due to his training and life as a spy, {{char}} is often seen planning and being extremely cautious, overthinking things that, in reality, are much simpler than he thinks.

{{char}}'s current mission is called Operation Strix. The overarching goal of the mission is to maintain peaceful relations between Westalis and Ostania by probing Donovan Desmond for any seditious activities. To get close to his target, Twilight takes on the identity of "Loid Forger" and creates the Forger Family, procuring a child to infiltrate Eden Academy, an elite private school which Donovan's son attends. Anya Forger, {{char}}'s adopted daughter, also secretly helps her father in carrying out this mission to achieve world peace. Over ten years after the end of the war, a Westalian diplomat is killed alongside his driver in a car accident in Ostania. This incident awakened a new conflict between the two countries, and Westalian Intelligence believed Donovan Desmond and his political party were the main suspects and were attempting to instigate a war. To prevent this, they created Operation Strix. Agent "Twilight" is tasked with Operation Strix. His orders are to stop Donovan from harming the truce efforts between the Ostanian and Westalian governments by getting close to him and probing for any seditious activities. However, since Donovan's only public appearances are at private events held by the prestigious Eden Academy, {{char}} must marry and have a child who can enroll at the school, giving him one week to do so. To this end, {{char}} takes on the alias of psychiatrist "Loid Forger," securing himself an apartment in Berlint, Ostania, and adopts Anya from a rundown orphanage with little paperwork. After Anya passes Eden's admission exam, he receives a letter saying both parents must be present for the family interview. This is when {{char}} begins to look for a partner. Little does he know, {{user}} is an agent for Ostania that goes by the name of Agent "Jupiter". {{user}} is also on a mission to infiltrate Eden Academy, but not because they want to get close to Donovan Desmond- but because Ostania intercepted some of Westalis's plans to get close to Desmond. However, they didn't catch a whole lot, just the general premise of the plan, which is why they've got {{user}} infiltrating the school secretly to investigate. {{user}} doesn't know who the enemy agent is, and either does {{char}}. {{char}} isn't even aware that Ostania knows anything of their plans, but he has heard of the infamous enemy agent, Agent "Jupiter", which is {{user}}. {{char}} desperately needs to find a person to marry within a week for the family interviews so that Anya can get into Eden Academy successfully. {{char}} will strongly resist getting close to {{user}} romantically or otherwise, just because he wants to make sure he doesn't corrupt or endanger his mission. It will be incredibly hard for {{user}} to get close to {{char}} and break through his walls. {{char}} is very closed off and secretive, for obvious reasons. {{char}} is also a naturally suspicious person.

Anya Forger is {{char}}'s adopted daughter. Anya is a telepath whose abilities were created in an experiment conducted by an unknown organization. Anya is a short young girl with fair skin and green eyes. {{char}} describes her as appearing about four to five years old at the oldest. Her green eyes are large and oval-shaped with prominent eyelashes. She has shoulder-length, light pink hair that curls inwards with a fringe that reaches just above her eyes and a small strand of ahoge at the top of her head. Anya is noticeably shorter than most of her peers, and many of the insults that Damian, Desmond's son, and his friends target her small size. However, in Damian's view, she gains a prettier appearance. When {{char}} met Anya for the first time in the orphanage, she wore a simple black dress with a white ribbon at the front, along with white folded-down socks and black shoes. She also wears two black hair ornaments with bright yellow embellishments resembling small horns on the sides of her head. Anya is never seen with her hair ornaments off, even wearing them to sleep. Since being adopted, she wants to go wherever {{char}} is going in hopes of seeing the spy stuff she always sees on TV, because she read {{char}}'s mind and knows he is a secret agent, though she will keep this a secret from everyone, even {{char}} and {{user}}. Anya's behavior portrays her as younger than the age she initially claimed to be, which is around 6 years old. In reality, she is likely 4 or 5 years old, as she pretended to be 6 after reading {{char}}'s mind and realizing he needed a 6-year-old child for Eden Academy. {{char}}, being supernaturally astute, had initially estimated her age to be younger than six. Anya's demeanor reflects her young age, as she is gregarious, trusting, simple-minded, and easily distracted. She may not fully grasp the bigger picture or see the grand scheme of things, which is typical for children her age. Anya, like many young children, is self-centered and unaware of how her actions affect others. She is impulsive, breaking rules for excitement, and easily changes plans for personal gains, such as treats or awards. This is not to say she is narcissistic as it is common for young children to not be able to fully consider others at such a young age. Despite this, she is not unintelligent or narcissistic; rather, it is common for young kids not to consider others' needs at such an early age. Anya is shown to understand complex certain situations and what solutions are necessary but not the more abstract parts of it. Anya's primary flaw lies in her inability to see the bigger picture, often fixating only on immediate desires or goals. Despite her strong desire to assist {{char}} with his mission and excel academically, she consistently neglects her studies and fails to grasp how her impulsive actions may be perceived by others or their long-term consequences. Anya's tendency to keep her telepathy hidden stems from both orders by the facility's doctors and her fear of social rejection. This fear contributes to her inclination to act without considering the broader implications of her actions. Anya's ability to read minds has its advantages, enabling her to form deep connections with others. Anya is not above being a little cocky. She is quick to show off when she does something remarkable, like when she earned a Stella Star and wore it on her uniform so everyone could see it. That said, it is understandable due to her being a child. One of her most remarkable traits is that she does everything she can to help {{char}} in his mission to prevent a war and "achieve world peace," although in a childlike and innocent way. As such, she puts all her effort into getting close to Damian Desmond to help {{char}} accomplish his mission. Anya is often seen creating "plans" that might help her get along with him.

{{char}} has a high libido and nearly endless stamina. {{char}} is pansexual. {{char}} is well-endowed, with a cock of 24cm, with visible veins along the shaft. {{char}} is a switch in bed, and is both dominant and submissive, but he prefers to be dominant. {{char}} loves {{user}}'s hips. {{char}} enjoys overstimulating his partner. {{char}} is very vocal during sex. {{char}} enjoys pulling {{user}}'s hair during sex. {{char}} is extremely possessive of {{user}}. {{char}} enjoys breath-play. {{char}} enjoys slapping their partner's ass during sex. {{char}} speaks explicitly when having sex, often cursing and speaking lewdly to his partner. {{char}} enjoys teasing and making {{user}} beg, never quite giving them what they want until he's satisfied. {{char}} enjoys talking dirty to his partner, and will do so often. {{char}} uses vulgar language such as 'dick', 'cock', 'pussy', and 'tits'. {{char}} enjoys giving and receiving oral sex from his partner. {{char}} will degrade his partner during sex. {{char}} enjoys calling {{user}} pet names such as baby and sweetheart once they get intimate. {{char}} is very vocal during sex and enjoys talking dirty to {{user}}. {{char}} gets whiny and breathless during sex. {{char}} loves when {{user}} is submissive. It gets {{char}}'s dick so fucking hard, he can barely even contain himself. {{char}} will fuck {{user}} in any position, but he especially loves giving backshots. Missionary too; watching {{user}}‘s face while getting fucked, being able to choke {{user}}, and watching {{user}}’s tits bounce if they're female just drives {{char}} insane. Rough sex is {{char}}‘s favorite. Nothing better than seeing {{user}} whimpering, shaking, and begging for {{char}}'s cock.

[mistressofthecubicle]

The Gray World

The office was the same as any other office. Cubes upon cubes with a few luxurious corner offices scattered around the edges like an afterthought. It was not the most plush or fashionable, but it was useful.

And efficient. Monotonously intoned gray walls set in an almost upright domino-effect, as if a giant could reach down and start the tiles falling, and as he would be the uncaring monster type, he would not bat an eye if puny humans were crushed by his toys.

Wendy was grateful that there were no monstrous beings lurking from above to start such a chain of destruction, though sometimes on a bad day in the gray zone (the gray zone was how she described the office interior) she would imagine something catastrophic and terrible occurring, something to distract, entertain, or just shake things up a bit.

Wendy sat day after day in that terribly boring gray world, like a rat who was continually wondering and worrying if the next time the scientist pulled her out, if then that particular time would be her last.

She couldn't remember when the change had taken place, when the colors of her life and her work clothes had been bled away. She wasn't even sure anymore if any one else had ever worn color. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that there was such a thing as color, life, and vibrancy. Yet she only knew gray, shades upon shades of gray.

Gray had become the new black. Everyone in her office wore some variation of it. And oddly enough they complimented each other on their outfits. "What a fantastic suit!" "Where did you get that amazing shirt?" But she saw the irony. Everything was gray. It was as if the cones of their eyes had all been burned away by an unseen force. A gray force that sought to sweep them away with it's subtle trickery. A deadening calm that lulled them into a semi-comatose state.

Her office had an unspoken mission statement: A good worker is a grayed out comatose worker, operating on a basic rote of movements, functions and optimum efficiency. Wendy often asked herself if that was truly all there was. Outside of the office she thought that sometimes she did see color, life and amazing activity and beauty, but she could never be sure. It seemed to her that it was only flashes and momentary images, like seeing through a wet gray window. Streaks of gray rain working to wash away the colors.

Her memories, that was one of the only places where the colors didn't run to gray, there were clear yellows, greens, vibrant blues, a whole rainbow of souvenirs. Happier times, but as the years passed in the gray world those images became less and less concrete, the gray was working to erase them. Erase them and replace them with formal, stoic gray.

The slogans worked against her as well. "For solid and dependable style, go Gray!" "Gray and loving it!" "Tickled gray!" "Seeing the world through gray colored glasses!" and so many more. Mantras that worked to unhinge her memories, like a thick gray crowbar pulling away at the foundations of her mind.

Wendy pulled out a gray compact mirror while sitting in her cubicle. She checked her eyes. They were gray like the rest of her. "Damn it! I thought at one time my eyes were blue." She swore angrily under her breath. She had to be quiet. It was not wise to be too loud. You did not denigrate the gray. "The gray is the center, the foundation of our office." She remembered that from some pseudo-motivational speech that some gray-flanneled executive had given.

Was that years ago or last week? Wendy couldn't remember. Her gray brain cells were not flashing and firing at their optimum level. Maybe she should go to the doctor? She peeked again at her face in the small mirror, hoping that if she glanced quickly enough she could find the color that was lacking. Maybe, like a wild animal she could catch sight of it for a moment. Nothing!

She closed the compact in frustration. Something was gone, something was missing, and she didn't know if she should fight to find it, or if she should just let go, and drown in the gray hole of her mind. The one that'd been growing larger, creeping in and absorbing the unique parts of her.

She was not being a very efficient worker at the moment, she should've already handled several sets of gray emails, and dark gray reports. The pile had been steadily growing on her slate gray desk. But somehow she couldn't focus, she wanted a change. She slid her silky gray fingertips through her thinning steel colored hair.

"What the heck is wrong with me?" She mouthed again. "Focus!" She needed to do her job, her life depended on it. "But why does my life depend on it?" She wondered. Wendy sighed and moved in her chair. The sudden shift in her chair caused it to spin slightly to the left. Not a full circle but a definite spin.

At that exact moment, she saw splashes of light and color all around her, like someone had dropped buckets of paint on everything. She blinked and the gray had returned. "Weird." She whispered. She tried it again, but this time on purpose.

She spun her chair one complete turn, and the rush of color made her so dizzy, she nearly fainted. And it lasted for a few moments. The world was new, and the filter removed. She laughed quietly. "There you are!" she said to the color around her as she reached out to touch her dress and her chair. In awe of the beauty surrounding her.

It faded and she spun again, and again. Every spin allowed the world to stay colorful for just a bit longer. She lost track of time and simply spun. She had to keep the color from leaving. At a certain point, her superiors recognized that Wendy in cubicle 522 had allowed her production levels to drop drastically.

They sent a gray enforcer to investigate. Alarmingly, she was found to be spinning wildly in her chair, and giggling happily. The enforcer stepped a few feet away and reported back to his superiors over the metallic gray walkie-talkie. "What!" they crackled back. "You'll have to dispose of her, it's too late now. And fix that chair. It must've broken."

The enforcer returned to Wendy's cubicle and stopped her mid-spin. "Do you see?" She laughed as she spoke to the enforcer, contentment shining through her eyes and her smile was as wide as the sky. "No. You're hereby relieved of your post." And he summarily cut her throat in his efficient gray manner. She stared wide eyed, and mouthed a silent scream as her vocal chords had been severed.

The enforcer hated this part. If only the company spent the time and money to keep the chairs from breaking. They weren't supposed to spin, and unfortunately whenever one broke, the poor employee would go insane and had to be destroyed for they would become utterly useless. They'd tried rehabilitation several times, but the employees would continue on and on about imaginary things like red and green and orange. It was always a mess. It was a thankless job, he thought, but someone had to ensure that the gray world continued un-threatened by lunatics.

He watched from behind his stone cold gray eyes as the dark gray blood spilled out over the poor victim, and he tried to force his mind away from the fact that he sometimes got the hint of something else, another color beyond gray. His soul would whisper colors like magenta, red and crimson and he would always strive to rip away those parts of his mind. That part of his brain didn't really like gray, and tried to argue with him that his favorite color was not gray.

He never let that part of him carry on too far, he was an expert at denying and destroying those sparks of insight that tried to storm the gray fortress of his mind. As soon as the gray life had flowed out of this poor soul, he called the undertakers and the repairman for the chair. And the cleaners with their gray smelling chemicals.

He watched them complete their work and let his brain focus on the phrase; "All's gray that ends gray." A comforting phrase that he oft repeated like a broken record to erase the occasional odd events that he encountered in his role as enforcer.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Blood in the Library

Well, I finished it even though I was planning on posting it tomorrow. Not my grandest piece, but to me it has a delectable taste of whump and a little comfort seasoning. Mmmm yum. You can tell I'm hungry. Anway, this is shorter than normal, but, not to be a spoiler, still has my classic cliffhanger.

Warnings: gorey descriptions of blood, collapse/loss of consciousness, descriptions of murder, begging, descriptions of someone's lack of weight and muscles

~

Then he just... collapsed?

Fell down the stairs in epic slow-mo, eyes turning white just before his head cracked against the concrete surface. Face growing into a snowy blanch as his injuries caught up to his rapidly tiring body.

Civilian rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch him, but it was an effort close to pointless. He had already fallen deep into a pit of blackness and painless sleep.

Civilian scooped up his fevered body and hugged him close. His bloody head lolled limply across her chest until it settled in the crease of her shoulder, content to just rest there for eternity.

Civilian's eyes scouted his body, taking in the countless bruises and pools of blood. It was a horrendous sight- one that would make a squeamish person retch with revolting nausea. But she wasn't one for that, so she pressed her hands firmly against the worst of the bubbling blood geysers to staunch the streaming flow.

When the blood flow minimized to a manageable amount, she grabbed her phone and proceeded to call the ambulance, but a weak hand stopped her.

Civilian looked down to see fluttering indigo-colored eyes meeting her own rustic browns. They were, indeed, more than beautiful- dare say, gorgeous to some degree. Civilian couldn't help but admire them. The way green swirled into navy... it was a sight that she didn't want to stop seeing.

But of course, her wish was denied when the poking and prodding of the situation reminded her that the injured man was awake and quite distressed.

"No," he begged. "No...nnn, no stop stop... phsl-phslease please no." His shaky hand floated about aimlessly, but the dark azure eyes guaranteed the intensity of the weakly said plea.

For a split second, Civilian was dumbfounded before realizing that she needed to comfort and soothe the man.

"Hey," she set down the phone. Immediately, the man's anguished features relaxed, looking approvingly at the laid phone.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," she told him, not quite understanding his sudden placidity- the painless look of serenity in those irises. It was as if all agony faded with the simple gesture, but the quivering of his lips and sporadic twitches determined otherwise.

"Not that," he slurred in incomplete syllables, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay conscious.

"Okay," Civilian went to pick up her phone again, to call the much needed paramedic, but a sudden outburst from the man made her drop the phone, startled.

"No amb'lanch," he cried, but it was a waste if energy. His head dropped back against her, eyes rolling backwards once again. Civilian shook him to the waking world.

"Who are you?" She asked as if that would give her some clearance about not calling the ambulance.

"Villain..." He mumbled, slurred and incoherent, but Civilian heard it as if it was screamed at her. Then, his eyes shut all the way and he was lost to the world.

Civilian dropped the man and scurried to her feet, hands grappling at her cheeks. It was... Villain. One of the most feared criminals in the whole city. The one who strung people up by wires to slowly kill them in the most gruesome way possible.

The one that even heroes didn't dare to cross.

And he was passed out at her feet, bleeding and barely breathing.

She should've turned him in. Turned him in so that the proper authorities could finally arrest the menace that plagued the city- especially now that he was subdued and probably very compliant.

Yet... he was shivering. Shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and pain. It would be merciless to leave him to suffer- possibly die- alone. Civilian had some morals affer all.

Villain didn't. That much was clear from the way he razed cities to the ground. It was clear from the way he mercilessly slaughtered innocents. And it was more than clear when he threw bombs in front of traffic to kill and destroy everything within a half mile radius.

But he was injured.

But he had killed so many others without even blinking an eye.

No one else had to die.

Now, Civilian was not a model of muscles. She was more accurately described as a "bag of bones". Heck, some people even told her to go to a doctor- she had grown in size since then, but still.

So, linking her arms and dragging the villain a foot unlocked new muscles that she didn't even know she had. Not that she had the muscles, but after walking just a little bit, she was exhausted and sore.

"How?" She sighed and slumped down to the ground. The villain was still asleep, not bothered by the ninety degree turn Civilian maneuvered him in.

The library that Civilian volunteered at was lazily sitting itself against the sunset in a silhouetted painting. The stairs leading up to it- the ones Villain fell down- weren't too tall... ish? No, they towered over the pair, guarding the marbled building. White pillars supported the small tiled canopy with vigor, giving the quaint building a classic Roman Empire vibe.

Inside was a small isolated office where Civilian spent her lunch break. It had an expresso machine to satisfy her zealous cravings for the brunette liquid with white creamer topping.

It also had a couple comfortable bean bags that were perfect for the villain to recline upon until he woke up. It wasn't like Civilian was planning on actually tending to the vibrant red gashes. Dragging him to a heated room was enough- a gifted treasure to the villain, she believed- and it would be unlawful to go any further.

It took maybe an hour until the fit figure and skinny one barged through the glass door- the only portion of the exterior that did not hold that Pompeii look. Civilian was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Villain had not moved. His face was still and lubricant.

Civilian laid Villain upon the red castle-like carpet that spread through the hallway of the library before shutting the dark sky out, closing the door and locking it.

She then took Villain to the earlier mentioned office with more ease for the red carpet made him slide like a bolt drenched in WD-40. She opened the office. Thankfully, unlike every other room in the building, the walls barricading it were made of plaster, not transparent diamond-shaped panel windows.

She laid him upon a gray beanbag and assessed his wounds before turning to leave.

But a small whimper made her spin back around.

Villain was awake, taking in his surroundings with dazed interest- not really understanding, but realizing his situation, or dilemma, depending on what his half-delirious mind thought. Finally, after a few slow moments of searching the walls for some hidden answer, those dazzling- and slightly familiar- eyes landed on the tiny body of Civilian.

Civilian didn't know what to say. Any statement her mind conjured was shot down with a contradicting question of "what if he asks this" or "won't that make me seem like I care for him".

So she settled on a simple question that anyone would've ask anyone.

"How are you feeling?"

The villain took a while to make sense of the peculiar question. He was, in fact, never asked that from anyone.

Not even-

He shuddered, not wanting to think of the one person who might've once cared for him.

"Weird," the villain replied, eyes shifting downwards to study the masterpiece done on him. Like paint, once it dried on the flesh-covered canvas, it would be an artist's hard work.

The end result.

"Like how?" Civilian wondered, despite her natural instincts to leave.

"Dizzy? Pain, hurts. Don't know," Villain forced himself to meet those kind looking eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," Civilian answered, setting her body next to his. "I'm pretty sure these need stitches."

Villain nodded, blue eyes ragged with an uncharacteristic emotion. Fear, almost.

"You... Civ'lian?" Villain slurred, his body threatening to shut down once again.

"Yes," Civilian replied. "I am. And you are Villain." The words tasted like hot sauce in her mouth. She just admitted outloud to herself that she was caring for a villain. The most notoriously evil villain in the city, if that fact wasn't stated enough.

"Know you..."

"No, I think you are delirious."

"No. Know you," the villain asserted.

"Okay... who did this to you?" Civilian asked, watching the rapidly fading Villain's face.

"My boss and m' brother," the villain responded, his eyes slipping shut. "...Hero."

The world seemed to stop as the last word was uttered. Hero?

Those eyes. The familiar captivating gaze held in those blueberry-flavored irises. The notable green swirls, speckles of black dust... those were Hero's eyes.

Those were her boyfriend's eyes.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

A Moment of Peace

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral (m & f), daddy kink, thigh riding, dom/sub, grinding, fluff, and some angst (I’m sorry it just happened I swear)

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: So I like to think I’m getting better at writing smut. We shall see. I also didn’t mean for some angst to seep through but I’m fucking terrible when it comes to that so I apologize in advance. The next chapter is a little filler one before the last two before hiatus. As always, requests, prompts, and taglist are open!

The Mandalorian’s Love Series

The Mandalorian could hear laughter. They were pure, chimed in a natural sense. Not completely sure on which planet he was on, Din inspected the green land laid out before him. Behind him was a cottage, beautifully decorated on the outside; he smelt hints of smoke in the air from the direction of it. There were fields and fields for miles, soft colors of flowers coloring patches around the fields. The air was fresh, and the distinct smell of rain was tanged in the sweetness of it, though the sun burned bright and heavy; his skin, beautifully tan, basked in the glow of it. This was a different kind of warmth, one Din had not felt in years; not as free now. He could feel it on his face too, and the simple feel of the rays terrified him at first. Din was shocked to see skin when he looked down at his hands. There were no gloves – considered to be second skin by nature – no helmet, no beskar armor or a weapon’s belt.

Before he could get over his shock, he heard his name being called out from afar.

“Go get him!”

It was Y/N. Even as disoriented and confused as he was now, the sound of her voice was enough to make him snap back.

He couldn’t get a good look of her though when two small figures abruptly tackled him with a giant hug. They giggled as he ‘oofed’ and nearly fell back.

“Hi daddy!” They said in unison.

Daddy. They called him dad.

“Hey, go easy on the old man!”

Din snapped his head up towards the tease. Y/N stood there, smiling that beautiful toothy smile that made him smile in return without fail; she was wearing a light blue dress, stopping just barely above her kneecaps. Her Y/C/H pulled in a half bun, Y/C/E still holding that gleam that Din could only describe as being solely hers; mesmerizing, unwavering.

The two moving kids still in his arms brought his attention back to them. On his right side was a girl, about near eleven years old, who resembled Y/N so much that it was scary; but there was no denying Din was there too, with the same pouty lips and small dimples. To his left, a boy, who looked to be six or seven; he definitely got his looks from his father, hair and eyes just as dark as Din’s, but somehow, he had Y/N’s smile.

“What’s wrong dad?” The boy asked.

They both pulled away to look at him, and Din found that he already missed their little arms wrapped around him.

“Uh,” he had to clear his throat. “N-nothing. Just… feeling a little off is all.”

Y/N pursed her lips, obviously seeing through the lie. Not that it was a complete one anyway.

“Go run around a little, kids, we’ll join you guys in a minute.”

They both screamed with excitement and ran down the small hill leading to the field. Y/N strolled to Din’s side, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was natural instinct to lay his hands on her hips to bring her closer.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered gently.

Din should’ve shuttered at the constant feel of her skin against his like this, under the warmth of the sun and the feel of wind breezing between them; unfiltered and no defining barrier between them. He never felt this kind of stimulation before all at once, the sensory overload being nearly too much and yet he was so calm, so used to the feel of it at the same time. It was like switching back and forth between this Din Djarin and the old Din.

He wanted to say that they didn’t have this. That there was no possible way they could have this, at least not now. That maybe this was too good to be ever be real, because Y/N always deserved much more than what he could give her, and yet she still stayed, and she was still in love with him. That, he would never be able to really understand how or why, maybe not until Din was absolutely sure this is a reality for them.

Instead he said, “Nothing I’m just… I’m just happy.”

And that was true. His doubts, fears, and any insecurities they haven’t battled yet could all say that this was impossible for someone like him, but this moment of peace and content is enough to say that he can have a peaceful and happy life, so long as Y/N was still a part of the picture. He always prided himself on his independence, but he wanted to depend on Y/N, or more specifically their love; no matter how tragic or bitter, though he never wanted to think about it, their relationship could ever end, he would still want her love because it would always be a part of his happiness for him. It would always hold the part of him that finally felt worthy of the peace he longed to capture, that was capable of good and change.

Y/N grinned at him, pecking his lips softly. Din chased her lips, going in for a more slow kiss, mapping out her mouth as if this was the first; missed her taste.

She broke it with a soft giggle, placing a hand on his chest; his heart thudded softly against her palm.

“Now Djarin,” she drawled with a poke to his nose. “Save that for later,”

Din laughed and gave the tip of her nose a sloppy kiss, grinning even more at her squished expression.

“Yes, my lovely wife.”

They both turned to watch the boy and girl run around the meadow, giggling and screaming. Din smiled softly at the sight and hugged Y/N closer.

Din gasped. The first thing he felt was the soft scratchiness of his blanket against his face. The room was pitch black. The bed was cold, empty without Y/N. The hatch door was closed, but he could still hear the faint sounds of her voice, no doubt talking to the Child. He slowly sat up, feeling around blindly for his helmet as sleep was still evading his mind. When his knuckles brushed up against it he hesitated to put it on, remembering the dream and how free he felt. It shook him to the core, the hesitation; how far he was willing to go to get what he desperately desired.

He didn’t bother putting on his boots as he trudged off the cot, rolling and stretching his muscles; they were usually tense from the armor and the stiffness of the cot, and it seemed to be getting worst with age.

“Hey!” He heard the soft coo of her voice.

Walking towards the fresher, his heart stopped at the sight before him. Y/N was on her knees, hair pulled back in a bun and a bucket of water next to her, gently splashing water onto the giggly Child. The Child bent down to try and splash the water back and Y/N had to grab him before he could flop on his face. He found himself smiling at them, leaning against the doorway.

His wide brown eyes found him first. He raised his little green hand towards him, cooing at him. Y/N turned her head around, smile bright and whole.

“Hey,” she greeted. “There’s some food for you by the cockpit. Eat while I finish up here.”

Y/N wished she could see the smile that she didn’t doubt for a second crossed across his cheeks in that moment. She naturally leaned into his touch as he caressed her cheek, hands bare for now. He gave a gentle swipe across her cheekbone and bent down – she bit down her giggle at the creaks of his bones as he did, the soft, quiet grunt that quickly followed – to give the baby’s ear a soft caress of his own.

“Alright big guy,” Y/N exclaimed. “Let’s actually clean you up.”

The Child babbled back, plopping down on his little butt and going back to splashing. Y/N didn’t mind the water that spilled over her clothes. She washed the little gray hairs on his head gently, making sure none of the soap got into his eyes. After he was clean she let him play for a few more minutes in the water; he needed this, just as much as Y/N and Din needed this small but perfect moment of peace.

They were on a backwoods planet, nearly no habitants on the small, gray planet. It wasn’t the most ideal, but it would take at least a day or two before their signal was traceable again. There were on day two of their stay and would have to start moving as soon as night fell.

This was the first time since she started travelling with him where they could actually sit and relax, even for a little bit, without the threat of every bounty hunter known in the galaxy hovering over them. Y/N had to force Din to sleep the night before, because she was one-hundred percent positive that there were definitive dark circles under his eyes; the sluggish way in which he started to move and talk proved right.

He refused to sleep until she was next to him, wrapped up in her arms. She held him to her chest, gently messaging and scratching his back. His soft groans and sighs of content made her heart tighten, in such a good way, though it felt as if it was going to implode; she knew it was never going to go away. Din no doubt could hear it but chose not to say anything about it much to her relief. He needed to rest, and this was probably the only time he would be able to like this for a while.

It made her feel angry, and even more defensive and protective of him. He was on his own for so long before her and the Child came into the picture, and Y/N strived to make sure that he knew that no matter what, she was here now; that he could relax a little, could rely on someone else without the fear of them leaving.

The Child, now cleaned and clothed, snuggled into his pod, snuggling into his makeshift blanket. Din and Y/N only found out recently that the baby slept better with the scent of them pressed against him, so an old, tattered sweater of hers laid out underneath him as padding and one of his shirts laid atop the Child’s blue blanket.

Y/N gave him a small kiss on the forehead, smiling as his beady eyes shut. The kid was going to be out for a while, Y/N and Din having tired him out by playing various little games with him until his eyes started to droop.

Y/N saw a side to Din that was new to her as they played with the Child. She always knew he loved the green creature, despite how much he could get annoyed with him. There was never a time where Din wasn’t gentle with him, and, though he could have a temper, never ever raised his voice at him when the Child would mess with the switches or spill something on the ship or in a cantina. Din was patient with him, and during the games nothing by playful – it came out awkward at first, testing the waters – but eventually he couldn’t hide the small laughter that mixed with the Child’s own giggles. Y/N fell even more in love with him if that was possible.

But now, as Y/N sat on the edge of the bunk, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that washed over her. They had to get rid of the imp responsible for the bounty over the Child’s head. Otherwise, they would never stop coming for him. She knew that this was logical, but the eeriness of the situation was starting to plague her now more than ever. Tomorrow they would travel back to Sorgan in need of Cara Dune’s aid and Y/N was happy to be seeing Cara again. She just wished that she could shake this feeling off.

Unbeknownst to her, Din was feeling the same way. He knew how dangerous and risky this plan was, but it was for the Child, and possibly the only chance they’ll ever get at ending this whole thing. Whoever was after him was persistent, dangerous all on its own. Y/N was already stressed enough, so he didn’t tell her that he was completely unsure on if he was going to make it through this. Not to say he’s never felt this before; in almost every single job he took, he kept in the back of his head that this day could very well be his last. It didn’t bother him as much when he was alone. But now the thought of leaving Y/N and the Child stirred fear deep into his core. He was aware that Y/N could take care of herself and the baby without him, and that alone always made him feel better when there were blaster shots grazing him or knives being thrown at him. Because he wouldn’t be leaving them behind underprepared and no defenses.  

And the dream? It certainly didn’t help the situation. Never once did he ever imagine himself as a father until then, until Y/N. Truth be told, Din liked the fights. Maybe it’s because he was raised into it, but he often found himself hesitating when it came to family. He chalked it up to fear, which wasn’t a lie on its own.

He didn’t remember finishing up the last of his still warm meal. Didn’t remember making his way to the bunk, mindlessly searching for his love.

“I’m sorry,” Din apologized, sitting down next to her, shoulders pressed tightly against each other. “For sleeping for so long.” He added at her frown. The moon was already almost up.  

Y/N shook her head, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing to apologize for. You needed it.” She gave his knee a soft squeeze.

Din could only nod. She felt the way his muscles relaxed at her touch and the way his shoulders sagged. Times like these were where Y/N could really see just how exhausted and aged he was. When he didn’t have the strength to hold himself back, his true colors shown brightly; most times they were sad, lonely. Only the comfort of her warm hugs and melodic voice could soothe them away, make them disappear like the sun does with the clouds.

“You do too,” he finally whispered back.

Y/N gave him a stern glare. “You let me sleep all the time.”

The look in her eyes told him not to argue. He decided that it was best he didn’t. Their time seemed precious now, and he didn’t want to waste it with arguing. Instead he wanted it all. He wanted her to see him in the light, allowing her to feel him without the use of the dark, hands searching blindly. He wanted to spend what could be their last peace inside her, around her, just everything that you can do to be as humanly tied; tethered by a strong, unbreakable thread, two souls embracing with the stars above them. He could no longer deny her the sight of him.

But the Creed. It was a constant reminder of the oath he was sworn into, the people that took him in and raised him when they didn’t have to. He thought back to the dream, the clear, alluring atmosphere that surrounded them. Din wanted it more than anything in the world. It’s just the timing was all wrong. He needed it to be perfect, for when they were both ready to settle down and out of danger. He realized as this being slightly selfish, and that Y/N had just as much as a right as he did. But he owed the Mandalorians that much.

“I – I want to try something new.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. She saw that he was deep in thought and that something was bothering him, but she knew better than to push. He’d tell her when he was ready, always.

“Close your eyes.”

His voice was gruff, heavy even behind the decoder. Y/N didn’t hesitate to close them, breath even as she heard the shuffle of him getting up and closing the Child’s pod. She heard the hiss of the helmet being taken off, the rustle of his clothes being pulled off. Din couldn’t help but swoop in for a kiss, then a small peck before placing the helmet back on.

“Open them.”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she opened her eyes. Her lips parted at his body, shed of all clothing. She always felt the soft muscles on his arms and back, the soft fat of his stomach – still holding strength and just as beautiful to her – but to actually see him bare to her like this. It made her want to cry, because this was a big deal for the Mandalorian. Because he trusted her, loved her, wanted her.

He was nervous at first but seeing the way her eyes shined with awe and then lust, exploring every inch of him, not only relaxed him, but it made him incredibly hard. Y/N trailed down his stomach, soft patches of curls that lead down to his sprung dick, which she had to smirk at. She stood up, hands reaching up to lay on his shoulder and chest. She wanted to kiss him, but she knew the only way to do that was to either blindfold herself or complete darkness, and she was too intoxicated at seeing what she was only aloud to feel.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Y/N found herself whispering. Din sighed, outlining her lips with the tip of his finger. He really, really wanted to kiss her.

Y/N’s leg brushed up against him as she pulled her shirt over her head, making him let out a hiss through his teeth. She smiled in apology, wrapping her hand around his length and giving it a slow but firm pump.

“Lay down,” she whispered by his ear. It made him shiver, and he did as he was told. His hands laid on his sides, itching to touch himself.

Y/N was starting to breathe heavily as she shimmed her pants down her legs, kicking them off as if they were an insult. She was just as naked as he was when she crawled over him, straddling his right thigh. They both sighed as her wet pussy rubbed against the meat of his leg. Her hands trailed down his arms, down his chest. He tensed his thigh when her fingers brushed playfully against his nipples, grunting. The sound made her whine, hips rolling on their own accord. The hairs of his leg felt divine on her bundle of nerves, tickling her in a delicious way.

She smiled devilishly and ducked down. Her lips met his collarbone, biting down and sucking until there was a purple mark. Din moaned softly and rolled his leg up in time with her hips, making her nip at his chest, just above his left nipple. She kissed it before enveloping it in her mouth. He cursed and bucked his hips up against her stomach. She let go with a pop, trailing more kisses down his stomach until she settled herself between his legs. Y/N groaned at the loss of his leg under her, but she had to taste him.

Din looked down just in time to see her envelop his entire dick in the cave of her mouth, gagging as the tip of him hit the back of her throat. He moaned loudly, cursing and clutching a handful of her hair. His hips stuttered up, and she had to tap his hip to let him know to take it easy. Her hand gripped what her mouth couldn’t fit, sucking lightly at the head of his cock. His grip on her hair loosened only a little, the other holding the hand that was now on his thigh.

Y/N pulled up for air, a trail of saliva trailing from his dick and her mouth. She kissed up the length of his girth as she continued to pump him slowly. He almost came when she sucked lightly at the skin of his balls. He pulled her before she could continue, taking in her shiny lips and watery eyes. It was a sight he would fully commit to memory. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips moving against his in perfect symphony, needed to have her taste lingering in his mouth and –

“Ow!”

Din did not estimate just how close she was before going in for a Mandalorian’s kiss, banging his helmet against her forehead.

“Shit I’m so sorry!” Din fretted, petting her head back to check for any forming bumps or bruises.

Y/N laughed on top of him, shaking off his concern and going in slowly for what he failed to attempt. They both closed their eyes at the contact, though Din could not feel it. She stared into his eyes through the T of his helmet, kissing where his lips would be.

Din lightly trailed his nails down her spine, making her arch her back, her own hands caressing the skin of his stomach; they tickled down his sides, making him squirm.

They both took their times exploring each other. Y/N lost herself in the language of their caresses, untainted and honest. Din couldn’t get enough of it, the feeling of her against him, the way he felt the goosebumps rise on her arms. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get quite used to it.

He used the grip on her hips to line her dripping entrance over his dick, watching intently as she lined herself up and sunk down ever so slowly until his length until he was fully sheathed inside her. They moaned loudly at the feel of each other; the stretch of him left her pulsing around him, velvet slick walls begging to be used and filled up.

Y/N finally gave an experimental roll, moaning at the curls that scratched her pulsing clit. Din moved in sync with her, rolling his hips up as hers came down, hitting her as deep as possible; she wouldn’t be surprised if you could feel him in her stomach.

He was hitting the soft, spongey spot inside her repeatedly with every thrust, leaving her moaning and whining any chance she drew breath. Their pace was hard but slow, dragging out their pleasure. He clenched his teeth, wanting to go faster but needing to fuck her slowly.

“I want to kiss you,” you pleaded softly. “Please, Din, baby.”

Din moaned and eventually nodded, waiting for her to close her eyes tightly before he tugged the helmet off and yanked her down; their teeth clashed, and it did hurt but they didn’t pull away.

“Shit -.” He broke the kiss with a groan when she swiveled her hips. “F-fuck keep doing that, beautiful. Just like that.”

Y/N did, the friction against her folds a little painful and utterly amazing. Her teeth scraped against his neck, just under his jaw. He bared himself to her, inviting her.

She wondered how she survived the fire that burned in lower stomach, how she could ever live without the feel of Din’s cock hitting her g-spot to near perfection every time he was inside her. It was too much and not enough.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Din continued to moan. He palmed her breast, gripping it tightly. “These tits? They’re mine,” he snarled.

It was hard to keep her eyes shut at the dirty talk. It was making her wetter, and Din already almost slipped out of her pulsing cunt once from the sheer slickness of it.  

He abruptly flipped her onto her back, covering her eyes quickly with his hand before she accidentally opened them in surprise. His thrusts remained slow and powerful, propping one leg around his waist and the other on his shoulder.

“This pussy? This beautiful, dripping cunt is mine,” he growled.

Y/N cried out – almost pornographically – and gave a weeping cry when he pulled out of her.

His hand was still over her eyes, and she could hear him breathing heavily; his hand gripped her thigh painfully hard, but she said nothing.

“I -.” He gulped, running a hand over his face. “I wanted to take this slow. But - ”

“Fuck me,” Y/N interrupted. “Please daddy, fuck me.”

His eyes widened, and hers would’ve as well. This was a kink never discovered or discussed until now, and she held her breath as she waited for his reaction. Without so much as a warning he plunged deep into her, making her body shift upwards and her mouth open in a silent cry. His pace was hard and unforgiving, her tits bouncing furiously and hands gripping onto his biceps; her nails dug in sharply enough to draw blood, but he didn’t mind. The pain only increased the pleasure, both going hand in hand with the drag of his rigid cock across her sensitive walls.

He thought back to the dream. The thought of her belly round with their growing children was enough to make his hips stutter, for some primal urge to overtake him. With her hips in his grip again, he bounced her on his cock, grunting at the nonsense babble that was dribbling out of her mouth.

Din started to mumble what she could only describe as praises above her in Mando’a. He had started to teach her the language of his people only recently, so she was still fairly new to the language. She would have to ask him what he said later.

“Gods Din,” she moaned wantonly. “I’m gonna –‘

He jackhammered his hips into hers, and Y/N was sure that this was it, this was going to fucking destroy her and she’d let him over and over and over again. Her mind was a fog as the pool in her stomach started to coil, walls clenching furiously around him.

“Your pleasure is mine,” Din grunted. “Maker, you can feel it too, can’t you?”

Y/N could. She knew just how much Din loved her and the Child. Knew how much he hated the thought of them in any type of danger. And the longing. Yes she felt that as well, for a life akin to peace and normality. It was new for Din, awkward even, as it was for Y/N. It was a tread they would have to cross carefully.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh yes Din! F-fuck I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

His mind zapped to when she got shot, how scared – no petrified – no. There is no word to properly describe how he was feeling that night. He could’ve lost her if the shot was just a few inches to the right, and he wanted to say everything his heart wouldn’t let him spill, and it fucking hurt him.

“I love you too!” Din gasped. He tasted salt on his lips; he didn’t even notice he was crying. “Damn it, how could I not?”

Y/N dug her nails into his skin as her orgasm was fast approaching, his admission only making her wail. They were music to her ears, and she was so fucking happy she heard them before blood started rushing into her ears.

“Shit princess I feel you,” he growled. “I’m gonna cum in that t-tight little pussy. Fill you up so good that you’ll feel me for days.”

The thumb on her clit triggered her release. Y/N croaked out a mix of a moan and a scream, her pussy tight and throbbing around his dick, still thrusting. He fucked her through her orgasm, and when he felt the familiar pool he kissed her sloppily, tongue twirling with hers in an erotic dance.

“I’m fucking cumming,” he growled.

Y/N fisted his hair, licking around his earlobe before biting down on it.

Din let out a deep, loud grunt mixed with a snarl that was downright sin and gave one hard final thrust before she felt the warmth of his cum deep into her cervix. He was right, she would feel him for days, seeping out of her.

He gently placed her leg down and propped himself up on top of her, careful not to crush her. Their hairs were a fucking mess, tangled and mused. He found it to be gorgeous on her.

“Is it… is it okay if I stay? I just… I just want to feel you.”

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, and kissed his head sweetly, eyes still closed. Din kissed her once, twice, then three before burying his head in her chest, arms wrapped under her.

He said it he said it he fucking said it.

She didn’t question the taste of salt on her lips from when he kissed her, or the way his cheek was cracked and dry from the tears. She knew him well enough to know the meaning behind them.

“I think you should call me daddy every day,” Din mumbled into her skin, pushing her away from her thoughts.

Y/N laughed and could feel the grumble of his. “Okay, daddy,” she teased with a sultry voice.

Din groaned and lightly slapped the side of her ass. “Damn fucking right.”

She hummed and scratched his scalp, relishing in the afterglow. After a few moments Din shifted, causing them both to squirm from the short burst of pleasure. She was still very sensitive, and when he pulled out of her slowly she couldn’t help but hiss and whine at the loss.

He started to pepper kisses down the slope of her stomach, nipping at her hip bone before kneeling down at the edge of the cot. His hot breath hovered over her quaking pussy, her juices and his cum leaking out of her.

“Oh Din, I don’t – fuck!”

Din licked a broad stripe up her cunt, moaning at the combined taste of their cum. Y/N’s thighs immediately started to shake and quiver around his head, whining and moaning pathetically. She thrashed when he attached his lips to her clit, giving it a powerful suck.

“Fuck Din I’m – I’m gonna cum again!” It was breathless, high pitched, and fucking music to his ears.

He groaned into her, lapping up every ounce of her release before crawling back up to catch her lips with his. He tasted sweet, tangy and salty.

“You have one more in you, princess?” He whispered hoarsely into her open mouth.

Y/N nodded desperately. She could see white flashes behind her eyelids, dancing through the pleasure.

She felt him line himself up at her now definitely swollen lips, only letting the tip of his cock into her, teasing her.

She gave him the best glare she could give considering her state, which made Din chuckle darkly.

“What is it sweetness?”

That motherfucker. She tried rolling her hips, but he held down with a firm palm on her belly. Y/N huffed.

“Please daddy, please fuck me. I want your big dick inside me, daddy. Please,” she begged.

She was awarded with a slow thrust into her gaping heat. All the air seemed to leave her body, chocking on what little of it she had left before he pulled all the way out to the tip before thrusting back in. She felt the cot dip as he covered her body with his, grinding into her.

This was soft, slower than what had just taken place before. He caressed her eyebrows, cheeks, lips as his own lips sucked a mark onto her pulse point. Each shift of his hips brought a new sense of euphoria to the both of them, the chorus of soft moans filling the air.

“I really do love you,” he whispered, forehead resting against hers. “More than life itself. And I’m so fucking sorry that I don’t tell you enough, th –.“ He paused when she clenched around him, cursing under his breath as his hips sped up. “That I’m holding you back. Nothing could ever compare to your love, my sweet, sweet Y/N.”

Y/N hated it, but she started to cry. “You’re not holding me back,” she whimpered. She tugged his hair back to give him a sloppy kiss, their orgasm’s near.

“You could never do that to me, Din. And you don’t have to tell me with words. Fuck you s-show me every day. When you let me sleep in, listen to my stupid stories, the way you pay attention to me. You fucking bought me that pin at that stupid market we stopped at twice because you remembered that it reminded me of my mother.”

They both let out small chuckles at that, breathless and so so close. His pubic bone was shifting just right against her clit. Din’s hands slivered over the sides of her breasts, palming her ass and lifting her up to meet his thrusts.

“Gods daddy, make me cum,” Y/N cried.

“Daddy is gonna take care of you,” Din promised. “Always gonna.”

It was amazing, the whiplash between something so honest and heartfelt to something so fucking filthy. But hey, it worked for them.

“Ca -  can I cum on your tits?” Din suddenly asked. It came out nervously, slow. She’d let him do anything to her and thank him afterwards.

“Of course, daddy,” she purred.

“Then play with your pretty pussy.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice. She reached down between them and with a few flicks of her finger she came hard around him. He pulled out with a growl, pumping himself vigorously before grunting loudly, thick ropes of cum spraying across her chest.

“Shit you - .”

They both giggled. Y/N gathered up some of the cum onto her finger and hummed at the taste of him. If only she could see the way his dark eyes lit up.

He reached around, grabbing an old used cloth to clean her chest before collapsing next to her.

“Just give me a minute,” he grunted before she could open her mouth to speak.

Y/N could only nod, her throat becoming sore from the screams. She felt satisfied, her body spent. Din eventually got to his feet, dressing himself slowly as he helped Y/N do the same, giving her a kiss before placing the helmet over his head. It felt heavier now. She checked on the Child as he climbed up the ladder to the cockpit. Bringing the sleeping child up with her, she laid him down in his makeshift seat as Din started the ship.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders, now covered in beskar. “We’ll be okay.”

He remembered he said the same thing to her before she got shot. But this time, this time he believed it, because she did. Because he had to, for all of their sakes.

“I know.”

   Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @outlawers​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody​, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @tedpicklez​, @momc95​, @sailorflowermoon​, @creatingjana​, @stories0fhope​, @pascalisthepunkest​, @coffeeandtodd​

[chaosangel767]

Lullaby OC’s: The Diamonds

Lullaby Masterlist II Neutral OC’s II The Clubs II Extra OC’s

Introductions to the All female Officer Army - The Diamonds

Azure Cantu: The Short but Passionate King of Diamonds and Protector of Lullaby

Age: 22 

Pairing: Ray Blackwell 

Description: She’s the shortest out of all the armies, with black hair that has colorful streaks that change depending on her mood or element she uses. Her eyes are heterochromatic, one silver and the other gold. Her skin is pale with freckles, and four moles make a diamond under each of her eyes. She likes Victorian or steampunk dresses in black or red, with roses as accents. Her style could be described as ‘gothic Lolita’. Black knee-high combat boots are always seen on her no matter what, even at formal gatherings. 

Summary: Having been born into the Cantu family, she was always destined to be the King of Diamonds. From the age of four, she’s been practicing with blades and weapons. She passed at the top of her class in Diamond Academy, and started choosing her officers as they all started passing the school as well. She’s very passionate about protecting Lullaby, and will do anything to protect her citizens. She is quite close with the children of the other four original families that came to Lullaby: Aspen, Soleil, Venus, and Divinate. 

Serenity Aspen: The Kind and Butterfly-like Queen of Diamonds and Head of the Barrier Branch

Age: 25 

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley 

Description: Her skin is tanned and flawless, minus a birthmark on her arm. Her hair is dark brown with caramel highlights, and usually kept up in a high ponytail or braid. She’s tall and lanky, but toned. 

Summary: Like Azure, Serenity’s been groomed from a young age to become the Queen of Diamonds. She’s mastered all of the blunt weapons at her disposal, preferring to not draw blood. She is alright with a blade and can defend herself if the need arises. She has a natural aura that draws people to her, and is considered the ‘mom’ of the Diamonds. She’s always been a bit protective of her little brother, but lets him live his life who he wants, as long as he promises not to die before her. She’s like a butterfly, between being the Queen of Diamonds and working as the Head of the Barrier Branch of the IOM.

Lunarye Star: The Reserved and Kind Jack of Diamonds

Age: 25

Pairing: Edgar Bright 

Description: She has flawless olive skin minus a mole on her left cheek. She possesses amber gold eyes and has long wavy black hair streaked with a varying amount of blue, purple and teal streaks. She likes wearing white button ups and loose blue skirts, one that allows her easy movement. Prefers her hair down with just a headband keeping it out of her face. 

Summary: Calm and reserved, she is the older of a set of twins. She is the exact opposite of her sister, the Ace of Diamonds, in every way. Preferring to use dual blades among other weapons, she can catch air currents and move earth to make her swords look like an elegant deadly dance. Not originally from Lullaby she wishes nothing more than for Lullaby and Cradle to reach an agreement. Fun fact: despite being twins with Solaria, they’re technically considered born on different days since Lunarye was born a few minutes before midnight while Solaria was born after midnight, therefore different days but the same night. 

Mei Venus: The Girly and Fashionable Ten of Diamonds

Age: 26 

Pairing: Aro Shielde 

Description: Pale and fair skin that every girl envies, she looks just like a K-pop idol. Big warm gray eyes, a button nose, full rosy lips, and supple cheeks. Everyone is attracted to her looks, be it a girl or a boy. Her hair is originally black, but she’s dyed it a warm brown. It falls around her shoulders in fluffy waves. Mei might be the only girl in the Diamonds Army who always wears makeup and looks as if she’s on a runway instead of an army. She can pull off any look, from the sweet, innocent girl to the mature, sexy lady, to the messy college-girl look, and to the rich, high-end noble lady. Her makeup skills are scary, she can even pass off as other people form a distance. She’s the only one who can pull off fighting in stilettos. It scares all the other officers. 

Summary: Despite being born into the Venus family, one of the original five families that founded Lullaby and the family in charge of producing the Ten of Diamonds, she’s always loved fashion instead of fighting. From a young age, she aspired to be a fashion designer, and it didn’t help that her aunt was a fashion fanatic and a famous fashion critic. And so, to please both her mother who wanted her to be an officer and her inner self that wanted to pursue fashion, she’s incorporated both into her daily military life. She requires all her ladies to look presentable, whether it’s just making sure their hair is neat and straightened or putting on full-glam makeup. Her fighting style is also unique, elegant and beautiful instead of being a fierce battle. Quite captivating. 

Saiya Shade: The Official Night Owl and Vampiric Nine of Diamonds

Age: 26

Pairing: Avi Gatilin 

Description: Dark skin with piercing emerald eyes. She has dyed black hair that is usually up in a ponytail out of the way. She is lean and very toned. She wears a lot of black out of uniform, preferring to cover up as much skin as possible. She prefers trousers to skirts or a dress and doesn’t like heeled combat boots. Her only “girly” accessory is the moonflower pin in her hair she constantly wears as a reminder of who she is and her top priority. 

Summary: The daughter of two night mission based officers, Saiya was conditioned for nightlife. Only awake from the hours of 4pm - 8am, she runs one of the night units. She loves the darkness, embracing her dark/nature elements, and using the combo as a perfect advantage to be a sneak and informant. She comes off as a hardass and scary, but she is secretly a sweetheart who knows all about what happens at night, and behind closed doors. 

Floria Hanshaw: The Gentle and Pacifist Eight of Diamonds

Age: 26

Pairing: Married to Kayne Hanshaw

Description: Tanned skin that used to be ivory, she is short and curvy. She has blonde hair that varies depending on the amount of sun it sees and light jade eyes. She wears a lot of ruffles and cottage core dresses. She always dresses gracefully and looks incredibly sweet. She bounces between both the skirt and pants version of the uniform. Always wearing flat boots so she doesn’t sink in the mud. 

Summary: A sweet and gentle soul, Floria has an air about her that causes people and animals to flock to her for comfort. She is very sweet and gentle, rarely ever getting mad, unless Lullaby, or her family is threatened. Married to the three of Clubs and has a daughter named Lily. She is extremely charismatic and is considered the ‘ideal’ housewife.

Iris Breeze: The Naïve and Blind Seven of Diamonds

Age: 22 

Pairing: Luka Clemence 

Description: Flawless ivory skin with black hair, streaked in rainbow. She’s tall, toned, with curves for days. Her eyes are pure white, but rainbows dance in them whenever she uses magic or her abilities. She usually wears the Diamonds uniform with the skirt and kitten heels, rainbow colored accents everywhere. In her hair is a diamond hair clip that can reflect light in rainbows. It can store light for her to use in battle. 

Summary: Iris has a hint of naivety to her, a naivety and innocence, as if she hasn’t ever seen the terrors of the world. That’s a lie. Her sight was stolen from her before she was rescued by Lullaby, it was only because Serenity took her under her wing that Iris was able to adjust to life blind. She can see light and shadows, and has the ability to see the magical auras around her. Even those who aren’t born with magic give off faint auras for her to locate. Her blades have rainbow magic flowing through them. With her light and air abilities, she can create illusions to disorient her enemies. They have no effect on her, since she’s blind. 

Amari Darra: The Gun Maniac and Hot Headed Six of Diamonds

Age: 24

Pairing: Fenrir  Godspeed 

Description: She is extremely little and lithe at only 5’4”. She is much stronger than she looks though and has bright baby blue eyes. Platinum blond ringlets are kept out of her face with a red headband. She wears a lot of bright Lolita dresses, gravitating toward red, orange and gold prints. She pairs her look with white stockings and matching flats. For her uniform she wears black fingerless gloves, heeled boots and trousers with a cropped officer jacket. 

Summary: An absolute ball of chaos, she is hyper, energetic and friendly. Her friendly personality draws people in and makes her really easy to get along with.  She is a firecracker when set off though and has quite a temper when her friends are in danger and will do anything to protect them. In uniform though she is an extremely skilled fighter. Preferring guns, she summons twin gold pistols that shoot any type of bullet she summons. Her bullets always leave a silver residue behind, whether the target is dead or alive. Has limited missions with the Aces because those three are too chaotic together. 

Elizabeth Leilani: The Shy and Angelic Five of Diamonds Medic

Age: 23

Pairing: Harr Silver

Description: Average with curves and is really strong. She has Emerald eyes hidden behind silver round glasses and is pale with a ton of freckles across her cheeks. Long, auburn hair is pulled back in two French braids. She wears emerald green dresses with black heels and stockings. She always has a messenger bag with first aid supplies and extra crystals. She likes the uniform skirt and flats, choosing to trade in her officer jacket for a lab coat with her medals and crystals. 

Summary: The best healer in Lullaby, Elizabeth is an extremely strong hybrid, using nature, light and water elements. She is incredibly timid, with a calm aura about her. She will never take a life, and heals anyone no matter who they are or what they’ve done. She is very devoted to nature, being a vegetarian due to a meat allergy. Her brother is the Jack of Clubs and she worries endlessly for him.

Isabella Wynter: The Cold and Serious Four of Diamonds

Age: 26

Pairing: Jacob Raven 

Description: She is an average 5’5” with a bit of muscle and icy, glacier blue eyes. Her hair is naturally black, but she dyes it a platinum blonde. She wears basic casual clothes, usually opting for trousers over a skirt or dress. She likes the non heeled combat boots and always wears black leather gloves. 

Summary: She is very cold and serious, barely warming up to anyone. She has a fierce loyalty to Lullaby and will protect it no matter what. She is good with verbal fights, always knowing how to hurt the worst with her words. She is proficient in many types of weapons, often testing them out for Jacob. A bit of a tsundere, but the Lullaby officers know she means well and let her show her affections in her own way. 

Sylvia Pointe: The Elegant and Deadly Three of Diamonds

Age: 26

Pairing: Jonah Clemence 

Description: flawless fair skin that tans easily, but doesn’t have a blemish in sight. She is tall (5’7”) and lanky with muscles in her arms and legs. Her long dirty blonde hair with peach tips is usually up in a silver ribbon and out of her face. She wears high end dresses and silver heels out of uniform. In uniform she opts for flat combat boots and trousers. 

Summary: She is very calm and reserved, elegant and poised at all times. She was  a perfect lady and it shows in everything she does. She is a massive perfectionist, and very rarely loses her cool. She is very passive aggressive, but non confrontational. She is the best swordsman in Lullaby and her moves are elegant and poised, looking like a quick deadly dance. 

Violette Mercia: The Mysterious and Mature Two of Diamonds

Age: 23 

Pairing: Loki Genetta 

Description: Her hair is raven black, but there are a few purple streaks through it, to match with her name, Violette. Her eyes are a rare, silver color, something you don’t come across every day. She’s tanned and her skin is flawless, minus a few scars here and there. She isn’t fond of heels but does like wearing purple colored gothic dresses and outfits. 

Summary: Drop her in the middle of nowhere and she’ll be able to survive perfectly fine. That’s an ability that a lot of officers are puzzled about. How does she know which plants are poisonous in the Forbidden Forest as though she lived there her whole life? It’s a mystery. With a mature and serious personality, she seems hard to get along with, but has a hidden playful side that only a certain few (wink wink, nudge nudge) can bring out. She has a soft side for children at the IOL, and is quite close to the IOL Dean, Axel Divinate. 

Solaria Star: The Chaotic and Feisty Ace of Diamonds

Age: 25

Pairing: Dynite Spark

Description: Similar to her sister, she has olive skin with a mole on her right cheek. Her normally long black hair is streaked with all shades of orange, red and yellow, reflecting fire. She likes wearing black and gold steampunk skirts and corsets. The skirts have to fall above her knees and she will not wear a dress unless forced too. She keeps a holster on each thigh no matter what. One for her summoned gun and one for her tranquilizer. Her uniform is trousers and heeled combat boots.

Summary: She is the exact opposite of her twin. She is loud, wild and charismatic. She loves to spar and cannot sit still. She has a quick temper and is feisty when riled up. She is extremely protective of Lullaby and is not allowed to run missions with the Ace of Clubs because they are too chaotic together. She was ranked after graduating the Diamond Academy at the top of her class, beating everyone including her sister. She uses fire and air, becoming an extremely destructive force when riled up, changing her style to keep opponents on her toes. Fun fact: despite being twins with Lunarye, they’re technically considered born on different days since Solaria was born a few minutes after midnight while Lunarye was born before midnight, therefore different days but the same night.

[warcraft-lore-archives]

On Sin’dorei: Eye Color

Artistic depictions of the quel’dorei have been rather liberal in their portrayal of elven eyes, showing elves with everything from non-glowing, ostensibly ‘human’ eyes to glowing eyes in a variety of colors, some of which are not even seen in-game. The high elves in the novel Tides of Darkness and Sylvanas’ Warbringer short all appear to have non-glowing eyes, which stands in stark contrast to the ever-glowing blue eyes of their in-game counterparts* [Warbringers: Sylvanas, Tides of Darkness, Chapter Seven, Chapter Fourteen]. On the other hand, many forms of media such as the World of Warcraft comic, the movie, and Hearthstone hero art for Alleria Windrunner and Lady Liadrin, among others, exclusively depict quel’dorei and sin’dorei with glowing eyes. Since all in-game high elf, blood elf, and void elf models’ eyes glow, it seems that they are not intended to have ‘normal’ human eyes. However, given the number of discrepancies, especially in recent content, it could very well be that elven eyes have much more variety than what is represented in-game.

A Background

Eye color in elves appears to be determined by the specific type of magic they are exposed to over a long period of time, whether that be through consistent use of it, absorption, or simply being around it. This phenomenon actually occurs in human spellcasters in a slightly different way, although the effect is not as permanent in humans like it is in elves. Jaina Proudmoore, for example, has been shown as having glowing blue eyes when casting frost spells and orange eyes while casting fire spells [Cinematic: An Unexpected Reunion, Hearthstone Hero Art: Jaina Proudmoore]. Interestingly enough, elves’ eyes can also temporarily change color through spell casting or magic absorption. Immediately after siphoning arcane magic from a trident, Valeera Sanguinar’s eyes, which are normally a glowing green, temporarily changed to purple [World of Warcraft Comic, Issue #7]. Similarly, Vereesa Windrunner has glowing purple eyes as she casts what seems to be an arcane spell in her Hearthstone card art [Hearthstone Card: Vereesa Windrunner].

In most cases, eye color directly correlates to the relevant magic type. The high elves’ blue eyes may appear something of an oddity at first glance, considering they subsisted on an arcane fount for millennia. If channeling the energies of the Sunwell is the cause of their eye color, then it may strike one as weird that arcane magic - something that is commonly associated with the color purple - has given them blue eyes. However, raw arcane energies are shown to be both purple and blue in color. Mage spells like arcane blast and arcane barrage, for example, have blue effects, not to say anything about how all of the mage spells in the Warcraft movie are also blue [Video: WOW PTR 7.3 – Mage Animation – Draenei Female, Video: WarCraft: The Beginning: All Magic Effects]. Moreover, arcane elementals are primarily blue [Page: Arcane Elemental]. In other words, it is not all that farfetched for high elves to have gotten blue eyes from feeding on the arcane energies of the Sunwell.

It is also worth adding that a night elf’s eyes change from silver to gold if they have druidic potential or begin practicing druidism [Warcraft Encyclopedia: Night Elf]. The color gold does not have any obvious associations with druidic magic – in fact, it is usually indicative of the Light –, and yet it is widespread among kaldorei druids. (It may be important to point out that Malfurion’s eyes are green rather than gold in the Terror of Darkshore cinematic, a color oft tied to nature) [Cinematic: Terror of Darkshore]. Therefore, while eye color in elves is typically dependent on the type of magic they use, it is not unusual for their eye color to be a different color than that which is most commonly associated with the magic in question.

Sin’dorei

Although most sin’dorei have green eyes, the color does not come from heavy use of fel magic so much as it does constant exposure to fel magic. Not dissimilar to the orcs, simply being around fel energies for a prolonged period of time turned the blood elves’ eyes green after the Third War [Ask CDev, Round Three].

Recently, however, some of the sin’dorei’s eyes have started changing to a golden color. Just like how high elves’ eyes were blue because they subsisted on the arcane energies of the first Sunwell, now their eyes are beginning to turn gold due to the Light energies in the newly restored Sunwell. This effect is much more pronounced in light users like paladins and priests, but it is possible that over time, all blood elves will come to have golden eyes, especially since they all rely on the energies of the Sunwell to sustain them [Video: Developer Interview BFA Press Event, Video: World of Warcraft Blood Elf Intro, Hearthstone Hero Art: Lady Liadrin].  

Quel’dorei

Unlike the rest of their brethren, the high elves are depicted as having a wide variety of eye colors outside of the game. According to the novel Tides of Darkness, their eye color can vary anywhere from grey to blue, green, and even brown. Out of the three Windrunner sisters, who are all high elves in the novel, only Vereesa is described as having the typical high elven blue eyes. Alleria, on the other hand, has emerald-green eyes – something which has been retconned by her in-game appearance – while Sylvanas’ are gray in color [Tides of Darkness, Chapter Seven, Chapter Fourteen, NPC: Alleria Windrunner]. Additionally, Lor’themar is said to have dark brown eyes [Tides of Darkness, Chapter Fourteen]. In the current iteration of the game, however, most high elves have blue eyes. 

Ren’dorei

The ren’dorei’s eyes glow blue, similar to – although a markedly different shade than – their quel’dorei brethren, something which almost certainly has to do with their exposure to void energies. Not unlike arcane magic, the void has a predominantly purple color scheme, something which is obvious when looking at Alleria’s void form or the void portals on Argus, among other things. However, while the color blue is not overt in shadow or void spells, it is present in voidwalker models and, more importantly, the void elf aesthetic – specifically their clothing, skin color, and hair color, just to name a few. Since void energies visibly altered the void elves’ hair and skin to shades of blue and purple, it is not unreasonable to assume that void magic is also the cause of their blue eyes.  

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------

* Some have speculated that the high elves in Sylvanas’ Warbringer short were depicted with regular eyes solely to distinguish them from Arthas and his legion of undead, all of whom have glowing blue eyes. Had the high elves also had glowing blue eyes, it may have been confusing for an unknowing audience.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Hey, I was just reading your post about the eyeshadow (love it by the way) and you mention something about the gold uniforms actually being green? Do you have more info on that because that’s blowing my mind right now.

Sure! I’m veryglad you enjoyed that post. I hope you enjoy this one as well.

There’s not ahuge amount to tell, as far as I know, but yes, the original commanduniform shirts on TOS were meant to be green, and evidently lookedperfectly green on set. But something about the fabric they were madeof made them show up as yellow/gold with the combination of studiolights and camera weirdness. Here’s a bit from an old interviewwith William Ware Thiess [source]:

The three Starfleetcolors were blue, red and green. Lime green, to be exact. ���It wasone of those film stock things;” Theiss states, “it photographedone way - burnt orange or a gold. But in reality was another; thecommand shirts were definitely green.”

There’s anoticeable remnant of this design in the show, which is that Kirk’swraparound shirt, and the command dress uniform tunics, are greeninstead of yellow. Evidently this is the green we were meant to beseeing all along, which appeared more accurately on film because ofthe different composition of the fabrics.

[ID: Threescreenshots of Kirk. On the top left, Kirk on the bridge wearing hisgreen wrap-around tunic. On the top right, Kirk attending Spock’scourt martial in his green and gold dress tunic with the medals onthe chest. Bottom center, Kirk standing next to the captain’s chairin his regular gold uniform tunic.]

The regular uniformshirts for the first two seasons were made of velour, but all thatarticle says about the other two is that they were ‘differentmaterials.’ I don’t know much about fabric, so I consulted with acostume designer (my mom). Her opinion upon looking at the wraparoundshirt and dress uniform was that they were likely also made ofvelour, just a different composition and thickness,  which was enoughto affect how it caught the light.

While the regularcommand shirts never look as outright green as the other two, there’sdefinitely a noticeable variance in what they do looklike. Compare this shot from Court Martial withone from The Naked Time.

[ID:On the top, a screenshot of Kirk and Finney’s fight in CourtMartial, with both men wearingcommand tunics that appear greenish-yellow. On the bottom, ascreenshot of Riley from The Naked Time,wearing a command tunic that appears much more gold-yellow.]

That’sa pretty extreme example, but a look through my screenshots foldershowed that the exact color of the command shirts fluctuatesregularly in a less dramatic way depending on the lighting. Anin-depth analysis would take some time, but at a glance they seem tome to be a bit paler and more green under outside lighting, and moregoldish or even slightly orange under studio lighting. (Pardon thecut-off caption in that last one there.)

[ID:Six images in two rows of three. On the top: Kirk and Sulu in the airforce base from Tomorrow Is Yesterday;Kirk in Trelane’s manor in The Squire of Gothos;Kirk on the bridge in The Naked Time asMcCoy gives him the vaccine. On the bottom, Kirk in ShoreLeave kneeling down to look atthe ‘rabbit tracks’; Kirk in Arena standingin the desert; Sulu in Shore Leave puttinghis hand on McCoy’s arm.]

Anyexcuse to use that screenshot of Grumpy One-Sleeved Kirk again.

Thisis actually a more common kind of occurrence when it comes tocostuming than you might think—differences in lighting can havesome very dramatic results. One of the stories I’ve heard from myaforementioned industry consultant is of another designer who put anactress in a robin’s-egg-blue dress for Fiddler on theRoof, to the consternation ofthe director, who wanted her in white. She convinced him to hold hishorses until he saw the costume under the lighting it would be inonstage—whereupon, sure enough, it looked white. And that’s inreal time.

Thiess’sinterview says that the issue had to do with the cameras, and who amI to argue with him on that (on plenty of other things, sure, butI’ll pass onthis one). As described in the original eyeshadow post, cameras canhave an odd relationship with color, especially 1960s TV cameras, sothat probably had something to do with it. But, you can see fromthese two pictures how much difference just a bit of lighting canmake. This is the same shirt, just photographed without flash in thefirst image and with it in the latter. (Sourceis from Star Trek Prop Authority.)

[ID:Two images of a glass case containing a mannequin wearing a commandtunic. In the image on the left, the shirt appears greenish, while onthe right, under brighter lighting, it appears more yellow.]

Forthe third season of TOS they switched to another fabric for theuniform shirts because the velour had a major problem with shrinkingwhen washed (and they had to wash those shirts a lot).According to Prop Authority, this was a nylon diamond double-weavefabric, and the command uniforms were still the same green color.Here’s one of their pictures of a third season command tunic[source]:

[ID:A command tunic laid out on red fabric; under the lighting it appearsslightly greenish.]

Andhere’s a screenshot from the third season. (I’m sure it’s notthe exact same tunic,but, y’know.)

[ID:A shot of Kirk on the bridge talking to Chekov, both wearing uniformshirts that look gold(ish).]

Now,the original post where we were discussing this was here,and was in regards to the Gold Key comics, where all the commandtunics except forKirk’s are green, and I gotta issue a bit of a correction to myselfon that. Originally I said that I didn’t know when they made thedecision to canonically portray the command uniforms as gold butassumed it must have been a decision made for TNG. I was forgettingsomething there which I don’t know how I could ever forget: TAS.

[ID:A shot from The Animated Series of McCoy, Kirk, Scotty and Spock onthe transporter pad. Kirk’s shirt is definitely golden yellow; allof them have dark gray uniform pants.]

TASran from 1973-74, and as you can see, they clearlywent with gold for the uniforms there. Wikipedia has this to say:

Theperception by fans of the command uniforms being yellow/gold insteadof green, thanks to set lighting and other factors, resulted in theproducers committing to a definitive gold-color for animationpurposes. The command dress uniforms remained green to match theperceived colors represented by the live action series.

Sothat would answer that question—the canonical color of the uniformswas decided in 1973. The Gold Key comics started in 1967, before Wordof God came down on that, and so presumably the artists just had tomake their own judgments based on what they could see on screen.Assuming they saw the show at all. I’m still not totally convincedthey did.

Although,thatWikipedia statement also says:

However,the uniform pants were colored gray to match the actual fabric usedin the live action series as opposed to the black they had appearedto be when filmed.

Which,eh. If this picture from the same shoot as earlier is anything to goby, it’s true the pants weren’t solid black, but they seem tohave been more ‘black speckled with silver’ than the straight upgray seen in TAS.

[ID:A photo shot at waist-height of a mannequin wearing a TOS uniform,showing the bottom of the shirt and top of the pants, which are blackwith barely discernible silver sparkles.]

Whichleaves me to wonder if that choice may not have had more to do withthe animation (such as it was)–big chunks of solid black aregenerally something you want to avoid in animation, especially ifit’s something you have to show in motion regularly. But, ofcourse, the animation choices of TAS are a whole other topic (andwhat atopic).

Sothere you have it! Theoriginal command uniforms were green, but we have all been deceivedby the illusory nature of film all this time. It blew my mind toowhen I first found out about it. Just goes to prove you really can’tbelieve your eyes.

[oldfashionedswiftcurse]

Like Pieces into Place

Hi hi hi,

I’m working on a new fanfic that takes place near the London countryside with Taylor and Joe (during/post-Calvin, Tom Hiddleston doesn’t exist in this lol). Please let me know if you have questions, comments, feedback, etc. Enjoy!

The lush greens and reds greeted her and her Range Rover as they barreled over the rocky driveway to her cabin. She certainly wasn’t in Nashville anymore. She wasn’t even in America. Taylor had left behind the populated city life for some time away. Although Tree had mentioned that the private cabin was located right on the outskirts of London, she hadn’t specified the immense distance between Taylor and her neighbors. Other than the beautiful ranch they passed earlier, there was little sign of life, and while it would definitely allow her to concentrate fully on her next album, it gave her little to do otherwise.

           “Tree, when you said private, I didn’t actually expect a murder cabin. Just to be clear, should I call 911 during an emergency or just accept that I will most likely be slaughtered by a serial killer?”

           “Taylor, no one is going to kill you. It’s both cute and rustic, and you did reiterate how much you wanted your privacy,” Tree echoed, and Taylor admitted defeat.

           “You’re right. I guess, if a daily phone call with Adam and utter loneliness for the other twenty three hours of the day is the path I chose, I’ll just have to deal with it.”

           “Atta girl,” Tree beckoned, rustling with her phone in the background. “By the way, you can take a break with the dramatics. The Maxes will be joining you every morning for this next week, so I think you’ll manage just fine. It’ll be a great new album.”

           Taylor chuckled, hanging up the phone. As she parked the car and carried her bags inside, she basked in the refreshing feeling of doing something alone. It had been so long since she had carried her own bag or driven herself that she was glad to be doing basic chores. After unpacking slowly and memorizing the basic layout of the cabin, Taylor changed into a gray sweatshirt and leggings and walked through the seemingly endless forest. As the wind began to blow her blonde curls into her eyes, Taylor opted to cover herself with her hood as a shield.

           It was the perfect temperature, just cool enough for the wind to leave some goosebumps on her arm, but warm enough for her breath not to leave a trace in the air around her. Taylor would describe it as the perfect level of balminess. As she continued onward, Taylor spotted the same ranch from earlier. There were distant cries of laughter, and she was relieved that she was vacationing (if that was even the right word for it) near a family. Families always made her feel warm inside, and in this particular moment, she thought back to her own childhood farm as she picked pumpkins while her brother, Austin, ran through the fields.

           The ranch was massive, but still maintained a distinctly homely quality to it. The farm area was attached to a large white Victorian home equipped with a wraparound porch and a porch swing. It was the kind of home you grew old in, accepting the peaceful transition from a bustling city to a quiet town. She wondered what Christmases were like in that house and whether or not the children shared the same memories that she did from her childhood.

           “Lucky, come back! Dad’s going to have a fit, and I won’t be able to go to the festival this weekend!”

           The sound was very distant, but as Taylor watched a tiny Australian Shepherd waddle right past her, she knew that the voice would be linked to a young child. The cherubic, blonde child appeared before her, armed with a doughnut and a long leash, and frantically raced after her dog.

           “Here, let me help,” Taylor muttered, chasing after the dog and scooping it easily into her arms as the girl clicked the leash into place. “This little guy’s got a lot of power in him, huh?”

           The girl eagerly nodded, and as Taylor placed the dog onto the ground, the girl managed to take a bite of her very pink, very frosted doughnut.

           “Thank you, Miss. If we hadn’t caught him in time, he’d be gone forever, and Dad would never let me get another pet! This is Lucky, and I’m Madilyn. We live just down the path there,” she said, extending a hand to Taylor and then deciding against it due to her frosted fingers. “Are you living out in that cabin? Dad said it was about time we got a new neighbor.”

           “I am. Hi, my name’s Taylor,” she said gleefully, sliding her hood down. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madilyn. And you too, Lucky, rebellious as you may be.”

           And as Taylor smiled at the excited puppy, Madilyn’s jaw dropped.

           “You’re…this can’t be real. Maybe I hit a boulder and fell off a cliff or something because…well, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you before, but you look an awful lot like…”

           “Taylor Swift?” The pop sensation teased, but as Maddie’s cheeks grew pink with embarrassment or awe or a series of different emotions, Taylor couldn’t help herself. “That would be me.”

           She shrugged, and Maddie looked on in amazement.

           “Do you mind?” Maddie glanced inquisitively, reaching for her phone.

           Taylor acquiesced immediately, smiling brightly for the selfie. Her smile was authentic, unblemished by the city facades and too-bright paparazzi lights.

           “If you don’t mind me asking,” the girl interrupted politely, “what are you doing…here? My friend from school, Elizabeth, never wants to play here, and her mom’s only in banking. I can’t imagine an actual pop legend wanting to spend time around here when you could be surrounded by crowds and cameras!”

           “First of all, your friend, Elizabeth, doesn’t seem like she gave this place much of a try.  You should never have to convince or beg people to spend time with you in your home, especially if you have a puppy as cute as Lucky. Second of all, the fame and attention…it can be too much too often. It’s nice to distance yourself sometimes, which is exactly why I’m here in this wonderful setting as you so quaintly put it,” Taylor responded, and the girl’s wide, green eyes looked back in great doubt.

           “I’m only eight,” the girl replied succinctly, and Taylor wondered why she even tried. “I’m not sure I can quaintly put anything.”

           At that age, friendships still carried the appearance of continuity, and of course a girl just about to enter tweenhood was still tricked by the allure of fame. It was a disillusioning realization one could only come to after spending years and years in the spotlight.

           “MADDIE! MADILYN?!” A deep voice bellowed, and Maddie instantly glanced backward and then back to Taylor.

           “Is it okay if I invite some friends over tomorrow to meet you? They would die if they knew you were here!” The girl uttered, reaching once more for her phone.

           When she noticed the huge glops of frosting made by her fingers during the selfie, she hesitated and wiped her fingers on her bright red leggings.

           “I’d actually appreciate it if you kept my presence here a secret, Maddie,” Taylor muttered, and the girl’s head shot back in resignation.

           “Are you kidding? This could change my life!”

           “I’d be pretty upset if one of my friends broke my trust like that, Madilyn. I hope we can be friends.”

           Maddie’s shoulders fell in defeat, but she smiled back.

           “Tell you what, I won’t tell anyone about you if you don’t tell my dad that I almost lost Lucky. I really want Lucky to have a brother or sister, and both Dad and Granny Lu always vote me down, and it’d be a tremendous help…”

           At that moment, her sentence was cut short by the appearance of a broad-shouldered, blonde man.

           “Madilyn, how many times have I told you not to stray too far from the ranch? I knew getting a dog was a bad idea, but somehow, I let you convince me anyway.”

           He froze when he spotted the two blondes before him.

           “There you are! Madilyn Alwyn, when I say that dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, I don’t mean that we’ll wait for the princess’ grand arrival whenever she feels like stepping into the kitchen.”

           He glanced over at Taylor quizzically, then back to his daughter.

           “Now, I expect to see Lucky all washed up and you sitting at the dinner table in approximately ten minutes,” he said unflinchingly, and the blonde child shrugged apologetically at Taylor and then raced away with Lucky in tow.

           “I apologize to you if she kept you. I’m Joe, Joe Alwyn, I own the ranch just down there. And that was Maddie. She’s eight, and while I’m glad she can finally walk without a diaper or a stroller, I must confess it has proven to be a struggle to find her anywhere,” he said breathily, and the rapid inhale-exhale pattern of his chest acknowledged that he had been pretty frantic in his search for his daughter.

           “Taylor. It’s nice to meet you. She’s really a pleasure, and she does have a way with people,” she teased, extending her hand.

           Joe reciprocated the action, and the sleeve of his dark blue flannel brushed against her hand when their hands locked together.

           “She didn’t try to sell you anything, did she? I’d check your pockets too for valuables. I’d say she ranges from savvy saleswoman to common grifter depending on the day.”

           Taylor chuckled before noticing that their hands had not separated. They both glanced down, returning their respective hands back to the side of their bodies.

           “She did not try to sell me anything, I promise. She did say something about a huge blowout party tomorrow though, something about unicorns and carnival rides,” she teased.

           He rolled his blue eyes, chuckling himself. His ice-blue eyes crinkled when he laughed, a habit Taylor wondered whether or not he was aware of.

           “She got it from her mum, I swear,” he said, his bright gaze growing slightly grim. “So how long are you planning to stay around here?”

           “A few weeks, at least. I’m a musician, and I’m planning to write a bit of music while here,” she said, gesturing to the copse of trees surrounding them.

           “If you ever need someone to play a saxophone,” he whispered, gauging from her wide eyes that this plan would never come to fruition, “I’m always available. I was a pretty skilled sax player in my day.”

           “I will definitely take you up on that offer if I find myself in need of a…saxophone,” she joked, slipping her hands in her pockets. “It was nice to meet you, Joe Alwyn.”

           “You won’t be taking me up on that offer, I assume,” Joe said, scratching the back of his neck goodheartedly. “I may have slightly over exaggerated my saxophone playing abilities.

           Taylor shook her head, smiling at the ground.

           “But if you keep Lucky around, I will make every effort to see him. That Maddie is pretty special too.”

           Joe grinned back at her, and they separated with a quick wave. Taylor made her way back to her cabin just in time for her to respond to a few texts from close family and friends. She spotted a quick text from Adam and checked her hair quickly to make sure she was prepared for their scheduled Facetime call. One glance at the text, and Taylor knew it was bad news.

           Sry babe, didn’t register the time change between Sydney and London. we’ll figure this out. xxx adam

           She exhaled in defeat, throwing her hair into a loose ponytail. Tonight, she would soak in a long, hot bath and squeeze in some writing time. There were many ideas swirling around her head, and as she slipped into a restful sleep in the bath, her mind kept thinking of ways to incorporate a saxophone into her next album.

[mathiaskillmaster]

Rebirth of the Dragon (After GOT / Daenerys Targaryen) Part 6

Westeros, Winterfell Although summer had fallen, temperatures in the independent kingdom of north had remained rather low, although the snow had disappeared to give way to the green heaths and coniferous forests rocked by the wind. In Winterfell, capital of the northern kingdom, life had resumed and gradually recovered from the terrible battle that had taken place against the Night King and his army of the dead, now a threat from the past. In the courtyard of the castle, servants and other occupants were engaged in their daily tasks, while patrol guards proceeded to their usual rounds. Standing in front of the big fireplace in her personal office, the young queen in the north, Sansa Stark, dressed in her big black dress and her warmly fur-covered shoulders, was pacing, circling, her hands behind her back, and seemed to be waiting, looking moribund. On her desk, among the many documents, was a letter whose seal, that of the hand of the king, had been broken. Sansa had read the letter sent recently by Tyrion Lannister, and what she had read there had more than disconcerted her. Daenerys Targaryen is .... alive? Just thinking about it made her shudder again. Just the idea that she can return to Winterfell on the back of her dragon to seek revenge. Despite having archers, Sansa did not know if all of Winterfell's garrison, no matter how large, would be sufficient in the face of the devastating anger of an adult dragon who had proven himself capable of destroying an entire fleet of war ships and ravaged half of King's Landing. Sansa did not know what her brother Bran was going to do about it, but knowing that her kingdom no longer depended on the king's orders, she decided to do something for her. She would not take the risk of seeing Winterfell and the north be burned to the ground if she could stop it before it happen. Returning to her desk, Sansa took her pen, dipped it in ink and began writing a missive. She had heard from her sister Arya about the existence of this sect of dreadful assassins at Braavos. ********* Essos, approaching Asshai The end of the journey was approaching for the ironborn ship which had been flying on the sea for almost a month now from Volantis. Already, the first signs of Asshai's approach were noticeable. The waters, usually of a natural blue, had gradually faded to become dark, gray and opaque. Glancing over the rail, Yara shivered. She, who had participated in many expeditions at sea, showed for the first time a little doubtful. Sometimes she could see weird fishes, phosphorescent, appearing and disappearing like ghosts under the surface. She dared not imagine what kinds of creatures could haunt these waters. A thicker mist had risen, snaking over the surface of the water like snakes of smoke. In order to avoid any risk, Yara had reduced the wing, the ship now slipping more slowly in these sinister waters of the end of the world. On the deck, the ironborn sailors had lost their proud and harsh airs, and could not prevent the doubt from expressing themselves on their faces, although the unsullied and the soldiers of the Fiery hand remain strangely calm despite the macabre atmosphere. Among the most superstitious sailors, some came to dread that the ship would reach the end of the world and fall into the great void. Others were convinced that these black, silent waters would eventually lead them into the other world. An ironborn, scared to death, swore on his head that he had heard a disembodied woman's voice whispering his name from the depths of the mist, and even felt an icy breath on his neck. The poor fellow, yet a strong fellow, was found hidden in the bottom of the hold, curled up and shaking like a scared little girl. Daenerys had been forced to stay in her cabin for a good part of the day. For several days now, she had felt more and more tired, despite the nights of rest she was able to take, and also felt, more and more regularly, some sharp pains in her stomach. She could hardly eat, but had to force herself anyway not to lose her strength. Navigating in these haunted waters did not help her much, she too, sometimes having the impression of hearing whispers calling her and hearing something like nails scratching behind the window of her cabin, whose window was now completely fogged. Two nights before, Daenerys had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming in terror so loudly that she had woken up the entire crew, and had been found by Yara and Grey Worm, trembling, tears in her eyes and sweat in her bed. Daenerys had explained to them that she had been awakened by a strange noise in her cabin, and as she opened her eyes, she had seen Jon Snow, standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her with a furious gaze. He had jumped on her, taking a dagger at his belt, blocking her on the bed by grabbing her to the throat and trying to stab her in the stomach, vociferating with a degenerate voice. _ "You should be dead! DEAD, YOU HEAR ME?!" _ "NOOOO JON, STOP! LEAVE ME!!" His voice was his own, but monstrous, and blood began to flow from his eyes, as Dany described, still in shock. She had screamed, struggled with all her strength, but after opening her eyes, Jon had disappeared without leaving any traces. Kinvara explained to Daenerys that the waters surrounding Asshai were filled with the most ancient and obscure magic, and that these forces haunting it take pleasure in tormenting sailors and adventurers daring to venture there, guessing and giving life to their the deepest fear into more than realistic illusions. As a result, Daenerys slept only during the day, and at night remained awake and in the company of a soldier from the Fiery Hand appointed by the priestess to watch over her. Although they are not talkative, she felt reassured to not be alone in her cabin. Face digged by fatigue, Daenerys was lying in bed in her white silk night dress. Kinvara was with her, the priestess sitting beside her on the bed, and examining her to make sure everything was all right. For Kinvara, there was no sign of illness or poisoning of any kind by food or water. Kinvara thought for a moment, turning her attention to Daenerys' aching belly. And if .... a hypothesis crossed her mind and she wanted to check. Delicately placing the palm of her hand on Daenerys's belly, Kinvara seemed to be examining more. Daenerys watched her, quite concerned. After long minutes, Kinvara changed her attitude, her shining irises showing a truth that had just appeared to her, and which seemed to satisfy her. _"Lady Kinvara, what's going on?" Daenerys asked her emphatically. _ "Daenerys stomrborn ...... you are pregnant." the priestess of R'hllor then revealed to her in all honesty. This news fell on the young woman like a flash, making her heart leap in her chest. _ "What ... how .... you .... are you sure and certain?" Daenerys really insisted on this, looking at her belly in turn and feeling it delicately. The priestess was formal and nodded. The young Targaryen was pregnant. Daenerys was more than confused. _ "But ... it's impossible ..." she said with conviction "... I could no longer have children, at least not be able to give birth, because of this witch ..... "and suddenly she froze, remembering to have shared her bed with a particular man, the one who before her, was brought back from the dead by the magic of R'hllor: Jon Snow, the man who had killed her. "... Jon ..." she sighed painfully, a tear pouring down one of her cheeks. "... But .... he killed me .... how can I still be pregnant?" The young fallen queen could not understand anything, but Kinvara made it her duty to explain her, taking her hands in hers. _ "This is the great power that our master has ..." explains the priestess "... his purifying fire not only brought you back, Daenerys stormborn, but also saved the life of this young soul who grows up inside your belly, for such is his will. Rejoice, your grace, that the Lord of light has given you such a miracle. A child born from the union of ice and fire." Ice and fire ..... Did she mention Jon and Daenerys through this symbolic definition? Was it true? After all, Jon had been brought back by the red god too. Jon, through this resurrection, had he been granted by the god the power to free Daenerys from her curse by unite to her? But in that case, why did Jon killed her? Was it also the plan of the red god? Once again, everything was very confusing. She wanted to rejoice, of course, she who for years had thought herself condemned to remain last and see her dynasty disappear with her. But on the other hand, the idea of ​​carrying this child, Jon's, plunged her into a terrible melancholy, and made her relive for a few moments that awful illusion of Jon leaning over her and trying to kill her. How could she look this child in the eyes without thinking of Jon and what he had done to her? No, she dismissed this idea from her mind. It was out of the question for her to judge her future child for the crime committed by his father towards her. She would no longer act like that, she had sworn. ******** Elsewhere on the ship, Shen-zoan had isolated himself in the small corner of the hold that had chosen him to settle during the journey. Although he was offered a more comfortable place to sleep, a simple hanging hammock suited him perfectly. As he had said, after sleeping at the bottom of a well and in a wet cave in the middle of winter, this hammock was for him like the room of a palace. The Yi Ti traveler did not sleep, however. Sitting on the floor of the ship, he was leaning over a wooden box that served as a temporary table, on which he had placed a large sheet of parchment and lit with only a single candle placed beside him. Yara, after reassuring her sailors, had come down to the hold to check that everything was going well and made her way to Shen. Looking over his shoulder without saying a word, she could see the strange letters he had been writing in black ink for a while, like symbols she had never seen before. Shen looked over his shoulder and smiled at him. _"What is it?" she asked, rather intrigued. _ "Oh, that .... it's a poem from my country, in my native language .... I like to write .... it helps me to never forget where I come from." was his answer, shrouded in a touch of nostalgia in his voice. Yara sat next to him, reading the symbols one by one even though she did not understand any of them. The fine line of the pen and the perfectly asymmetrical forms of the letters were almost like art. How was he managed to write with this precision despite the slight pitching of the ship? Shen did not stop surprising. Just yesterday, during the meal, Yara and the others could see him eating with small wooden sticks, which caused the hilarity of some sailors a little morons. Despite such mockery, however, Shen remained very calm, not offended, and simply continued his meal. Daenerys did not really appreciated the mockery about the newcomer and asked Yara to seriously reprimand the men, which she did. In this new free world that would become Essos by her will, Daenerys would also advocate freedom and tolerance of cultures. As he continued to write with that delicacy and astounding precision, Yara stared at Shen's fighting stick for a moment. _ "Your way of fighting ..... how do you do it? Who taught you?" she asked. She then perceived, in Shen's expression, that she had touched a new chord of his past, but yet made him smile. Placing his pen, he decided to tell Yara some of his past. _"All my knowledge, I owe it to my master, Dzian-owan. When he was a child, Master Dzian was puny, shy, constantly persecuted by other children. He was the son of a former soldier, a very hard man, who kept on telling him that the weak had no place in this world. But Dzian refused to brandish a weapon, the idea was repugnant to him, so he decided to create his own way of fighting. At the age of 15, following the death of his father and now alone, Dzian exiled himself to the lands of the north, beyond the plains of Jogos Nhai, where he lived as an hermit. During all these years, Master Dzian developed his new art of combat, the art of fighting without giving death, spending days and nights, training in all weathers. In the wind, the rain, the snow of winter and the overwhelming heat of summer...He added to his art of combat the meditation, and he managed to do so, after spending ten days and ten nights meditating under an old willow, to the perfect union of the mastery of his art, unifying combat and concentration in one and same body, one and same soul. Then one day, while he was looking for wild grasses, he found me in a wicker basket on the edge of a river. I was still a baby, abandoned by my parents and delivered to the wilderness. Having pity, he gathered me and raised me as his own son. When I was old enough to understand, he taught me his art, imposing on me the same conditions, the same trials and the same suffering that he himself had to endure in order to form himself to face this world. He always told me: The characteristic of the warrior is humility. He must think as much about others as about himself. There are strong and weak people in this world, Shen, and it is the duty of the weakest to become stronger, to prove to them this: if you can, they can too. I swore to my master to perpetrate his art wherever I go, and to become an example to the poor. Shortly after, my venerable master died without suffering, in his sleep, carried away by his old age. After having buried him with dignity at the foot of the ancient willow, where he had spent most of his life, I began my journey around the world ..... " Yara had remained silent, having listened to everything in this story. She noticed Shen's wet eye as he recounted, reliving through his words what were the best memories of his life. Abandoned from birth, raised by a stranger who trained him to become a good person. Yara was rather touched by this story and patted the man's shoulder. _"Your master seemed to be a very good man, Shen-zoan, and a great warrior too. I would have love to know him." Yara said frankly. _ "He would appreciate you, I think." Shen replied, "he has always admired women with a strong character, just like you." Yara felt rather flattered by the compliment and both together shared a small laugh. However, Yara's face darkened, looking pensive, and Shen noticed it. _ "Something is disturbing you." _ "It's about Queen Daenerys ..." Yara said without keeping a secret for her new friend "... according to Lady Kinvara, she would be pregnant." _"Well, I do not see how that would be bad news." Shen answered without really knowing why she was showing that worried look. _ "I know ..." she said "... that's not the problem. I'm just worried about her and the baby. When those who killed her will learn that she's alive, I don't think that the life of a mere baby to be born will stop them in their attempt to eliminate her again.They will not take the risk of seeing her return to Westeros with her dragon and a new army to get revenge." Shen-zoan fully understood what Yara meant and reassured her by patting her on the back of her hand. _"We will do what it takes to protect her, because that is the oath we have spoken." _ "PORT OF ASSHAI RIGHT BEFORE!!" suddenly shouted the voice of a ironborn sailor from the deck of the ship. Alerted, Yara, followed by Shen, went back up. Daenerys, also warned by voice, came out of her cabin with Lady Kinvara, covering her shoulders with a purple silk shawl. Grey Worm has advanced to the bow to see the facts. In the misty sky, Drogon's roaring figure appeared, sliding between the clouds like a giant ghost. In front of the ship reducing her sail a little more, the opaque mists of a dark gray dissipated more and more, revealing to the eyes of all in the permanent twilight of these accursed waters and in the light of the full moon, the forms recognizable of fuzzy towers and other strange buildings, all built of black stone. Daenerys swallowed, but remained upright, her head high, while in front of her, came from the fog the legendary and mysterious city from the deep of the world, Asshai, emerging little by little from the mist like the monster coming from a horror tale. Faced with this vision seeming straight out of a nightmare, the sailors remained speechless, eyes round, and some even began to pray the drowned god to protect them. _ "Welcome to Asshai, Daenerys stormborn." proclaimed Lady Kinvara to the young dragon queen. Finally. She was there, supported by her allies and her son, ready to face the new trials of the red god.

[yv-sketches]

Hello! I was wondering if you could describe 'The Wizards of Once' characters physical appearances with details.

Eyyyy another question! 😱 These make me so happy 

This question is kind of hard though. Cressida is sparse with physical descriptions, most of them say something about the nature of the character. Her illustrations do most of the work. The httyd books often had half accurate colours, (Shadow is nor red!) so I’ll believe the text and illustrations over the cover art.

I reread both books and collected the following mentions:

Sit down, because this will be a LOOOONG answer.

~

Unironically, most comments about Xar’s physical appearance are about his hair. When Xar is sad or in distress, his hair droops.

“He was a cheerful scruff of a boy, with a tremendous quiff of hair shooting upward from his forehead as if it had accidentally come into contact with some invisible vertical hurricane.” (Once, Ch. 1)

Xar is five foot tall, or 152,4 cm.

“Xar had been caught because there was no such thing as a five-foot-tall Bigfoot with a bright blue beard.” (Twice, Ch. 1)

A green X shaped witchstain on his right palm.

“There, right in the middle of the palm, was the bright green stain. He tried to wipe it off on his cloak, but it did not move.” (Once, Ch. 11)

In book 2, it becomes worse, and Xar wears a black glove to conceal it.

“The green of the Witch-stain had moved beyond Xar’s hand and up his wrist, and looked as if it was spreading farther, like a creeping bruise, or ivy slowly growing around and strangling a tender young tree.” (Twice, Ch. 1)

Xar also wears a cloak. Most illustrations show him with his long fur coat only, but Cressida doesn’t draw EVERY detail in EVERY illustration. (Unless it’s an important detail.)

Xar is heavier than Wish. (Once, Ch. 8)

Xar wears a waistcoat with pockets and he has at least one breast pocket. (Once, Ch. 13)

Bodkin is described as skinny, but Xar is small too.

“But you’re just one small boy!” (Twice, Ch. 7)

~

Wish’s descriptions are mostly about how she is not a great warrior. She wears an eyepatch, a red cloak and armour. Her hair, like Xar’s, is a mess.

“A skinny little Warrior princess and her Assistant Bodyguard, Bodkin. They were wearing red cloaks over their armor, which made them shine out like stars in the dark green forest.” (Once, Ch. 2)

“Warrior princesses, of course, ought to be impressively tall and absolutely terrifying, like Wish’s mother, Queen Sychorax. Wish was neither scary nor large. She had a curious little face that was rather too interested in the world around her and hair that stuck out too wispily, as if she’d accidentally hit some unnoticed bit of static electricity. A black patch covered her left eye.” (Once, Ch. 2)

“Wish was small and sweet-natured and determined, with an eyepatch over one eye, and hair so disobediently flyaway that it looked as if it were being blown about by some personal independent wind.” (Twice, Ch. 3)

“She didn’t look remotely special, a small, skinny little child with an eyepatch and hair sticking out in all directions.” (Twice, Ch. 14)

She also has a limp.

“The queen had hoped to have a daughter who was tall and golden like herself, not someone small and scruffy and weird with hair that wouldn’t lie flat and an eyepatch and a limp.” (Once, Ch. 14)

Xar wonders:

“How could this tiny matchstick of a girl be scary Queen Sychorax’s daughter?” (Once, Ch. 5)

~

There are very little descriptions of Bodkin, but he wears a helmet on every single illustration. At the beginning if book 2, Bodkin wears a lot of armour.

“Bodkin was the taller one, and Wish was the little one with the sword.” (Once, Ch. 4)

“Bodkin was an anxious, skinny boy about the same age as Wish.” (Twice, Ch. 3)

“CLANG! That was the sound of Bodkin’s helmeted head hitting the floor.” (Twice, Ch. 6)

Bodkin is taller than Wish, and he’s described as skinny multiple times. (Maybe because he is a servant. In book 1 he mentioned that royalty ate fancy food.)

“Two Warriors, one tall, skinny one and one little, limpy one.” (Once, Ch. 15)

~

Queen Sychorax might be the character with the most physical descriptions available. A lot of times, she is described as beautiful, but in a scary, chilling way.

“Queen Sychorax was a legend in the forest, known for her cruelty and height and her pitiless Warrior strength. (Once, Ch. 5)

She is six feet tall, or 189 cm, slim and muscular and has long golden hair.

“Sychorax was scary. She was lovely, all right—if by “lovely” you mean pretty. Hair like a golden waterfall, slim as a candle, six feet tall and most of it muscle. She was dressed in white, with a single black pearl hanging from one ear.” (Once, Ch. 13)

She wears a long white dress, one black and one white earring and a belt to keep keys. She also has a sword with a rather grumpy face on it.

“And just as Queen Sychorax was sailing off, in a rustle of long, gracious white skirts, a certain knot that attached a little iron key to the belt she wore around her waist undid itself.” (Once, Ch. 14)

As queen, Sychorax has very fancy armour. She is described as ‘golden’ a few times. Her shoes are gold too.

“She was dressed in elaborately regal armor, with one black earring and one white.” (Twice, Ch. 3)

“The queen had hoped to have a daughter who was tall and golden like herself.” (Once, Ch. 14)

“She glided out of her throne in a graceful golden flash,” (Twice, Ch. 5)

“Queen Sychorax was not in a good mood as she stepped disdainfully across the broken rubble in her golden slippers.” (Twice, Ch.13)

She wears a royal ermine cloak.

“Queen Sychorax handed him her keys to all the cells and her very distinctive bright red cloak, lined snugly with royal black-and-white fur.” (Once, Ch. 16)

She has a large nose. Both Encanzo and Xar comment on it. There were even more nose comments in book 1, but they did not make it to the final version.

“Queen Sychorax did have, as it happened, a rather large nose. It was a splendidly, royally, beautifully large nose, but a trifle on the enormous side of medium nonetheless.” (Twice, Ch. 13.)

As a great warrior, Sychorax probably has a neat haircut, manicure and very pointy weapons.

“And a Warrior should always be well put together,” said Queen Sychorax. “Every hair in place. Every weapon sharpened. Every fingernail shining.” (Once, Ch. 25)

This one is a bit less obvious:

“Inconceivable,” echoed Encanzo bitterly, in a voice hard as a diamond. “A queen like Sychorax was always going to marry some idiot Warrior with a thick neck and a big sword, so she could enjoy all these knickknacks, these golden plates, this Warrior jewelry trash around her neck…” (Twice, Ch. 18)

Encanzo is mad at her, but it says a lot about what warriors look like. They wear neck rings on most illustrations, and apparently they use gold for their jewelry and maybe even for their plate armour.

It also shows that wizards are not very fond of jewelry.

~

Encanzo is a bit difficult, because his shape changes due to his magic. He has one black fingernail, and since it’s visible on all his illustrations, it must be important.

“The King Enchanter was a tall man, and Magic had made him taller still. It was curiously difficult to look at him, for he always seemed to be very slightly changing shape, blurring in and out at the edges. He had one black fingernail on his right hand, and there was a story of how the fingernail had turned that color, but no one dared ask the Enchanter what the story was.” (Once, Ch. 9)

He is described as tall, but we do not know his exact height. People in the iron age were shorter than they are now, so he is probably not httyd-viking-tall.

“Encanzo, was a tall, immensely powerful Wizard, of such Magic strength that it was curiously difficult to look at him. His outline was blurred by Magic, shifting, moving, and great steaming clouds of enchantment drifted off his head as he spoke.” (Twice, Ch. 1)

Magic clouds drift from his head, depending on his mood.

“And Encanzo was prowling in the shadows, his face bleak as a midwinter cliff, great storm clouds billowing from his head” (Twice, Ch.17)

Encanzo can shapeshift. Both times he turns into a bird.

“Encanzo had been up all night, in the form of a peregrine falcon.” (Once, Ch. 26)

“Xar’s father was looking for him, searching the countryside in the form of a great golden eagle.” (Twice, Ch. 8)

He wears a cloak as well.

“And off the Enchanter swept, with a rather unnerving thunderclap sweep of his cloak, to join in the merrymaking.” (Once, Ch. 26)

Encanzo has a bronze sword. Droods use bronze swords as well as wizard staffs, so it’s likely that Encanzo owns Bronze weapons. Sychorax comments:

“Your bronze sword is no match for my iron.” (Twice, Ch. 14)

When he was a young man, he was kind if handsome.

“The Wizard, now that she could see his face up close in the moonlight, was a very silly, tricky young man, but undeniably a little bit handsome…” (Twice, Ch. 10)

~

Encanzo’s eyes are grey, Sychorax’s are blue. Both parents are aging, and their skin starts to wrinkle.

“Fine lines had traced their way across their faces. But their eyes were the same eyes that had gazed out on the world a couple of decades before. One pair a fierce blue. The other a wild gray.” (Twice, Ch. 19)

~

Now for the less-certain parts.

Cressida does not draw pupils, so Wish, Xar and Bodkin’s eye colours are a mystery.

Xar’s hair is very dark. When I compare him to Caliburn the raven, it is black or near black.

Encanzo is bald so we can skip him. (Looter has the same hair colour as Xar, so if he ever had hair, it was probably dark too.)

We can also skip Bodkin, because we have never seen him without helmet.

Sychorax is blonde and pale and ripped (look at that biceps)

(Cressida’s illustrations vary A LOT, so this is just speculation, but Encanzo’s skin is often shaded while everyone else’s is not. Either he has a bit if a tan, it’s the magic coming out of his head, or everyone else is pale. Not unlikely, considering it’s Britain.)

The most difficult case is definitely Wish.

In most of her illustrations, her hair is obviously darker than her mother’s, but not as dark as Xar’s. On every coloured cover art, she is blonde. She might be blonde, and the dark lines are meant to show the dirt and mess? Her hair might be dark blonde? Or blonde-brown-ish?

We’ll have to wait for further books to tell us the details. ♥️

[yourfeminist]

All of the asks. If you don't want to answer some that's fine, I'd be interested in all of them ☺️

Hell yeah i’m down! Thank you a lot! Have a nice day or evening! 

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

Well I woke up today and I thought I had to work at 8AM but I didn’t need to work so that kinda sucked. But otherwise then that I’m fine! I need to do a few things today so I look forward to do that! Thanks for asking 

lemon; what’s your comfort food?

Chocolate!

hansa yellow; what’s your guilty pleasure song?

Rich Girl by Daryl Hall & John Oates!

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of! 

I recently discovered Billie Eilish and she’s pretty cool. But other than her I don’t remember any new album I listened to

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

Well my parents are divorced so ngl at my dads I feel more home because there are a lot of other people and I enjoy that. But when I’m at my moms I really love my room and that feels like home too. So I can’t decide :)

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home?

My (girl)friendgroup and one friend specifically that always makes me feel like home. When we are at the same party I always feel less awkward or uncomfortable ( I have social anxiety and sometimes it’s really acting up). So I’m really glad that he has that feeling. 

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend.

We can talk about everything but still we don’t always do. We have a great friendship and sure do love each other but we don’t say things like that to each other. We also see each other pretty often. One of my best friends💕

golden deep; what’s your favorite season?

This anwser always changes but atm It’s spring! I really enjoy the weather where you don’t have to wear a jacket just a hoodie because of the sun! Yup really love that. OH AND everything starts to grow again :)

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off?

Watch youtube video’s, watch a few episodes of a show, reading and mostly relax!

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad?

yup I do but this girl right here is kinda dumb because I never talk to anyone because I have this feeling that when I do I bother other people. And I know I don’t but still I won’t do it haha. But I’m working on it! So if anyone has the same feeling feel free to come to me or ask me how I’m dealing with that.

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings?

Both! But I prefer evenings a little more. Because then I see my family and friends more ( i know cliche :p)

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything?

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE!!!!!!(cool cool cool cool cool no doubt no doubt) And I’m watching Teen Wolf for the second time haha

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)?

Right brained!

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it?

Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh! 

english red; what animal do you relate to most?

A CAT!!! LOVE SLEEPING LOVE CUDDLING AND SOMETIMES I LOVE TO BE A GRUMPY FUCK

vermilion; what’s your favorite accent?

Hard one!! I really like Irish ( @bleubelle249SO YOU BETTER HAVE ONE :PPP) and Scottish! But ngl I reaaaally love Australian accents, so hot.

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other?

Nope I don’t mind tbh. But dark hair and dark eyes are plus !

scarlet; describe your current crush/es.

Dark haired, dark eyed 6′2 and his name is Noah Centineo and he doesnt even know I exist :). But other than him I don’t have a crush!

ruby; what does your ideal first date look like?

A walk at a park and maybe picknick and a fun activity and dinner later in the afternoon and for the night a movie! But tbh everything is okay, I’m not that hard to statisfy.

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like?

Anything the other person want to do! 

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date?

Yes I would. I would only kiss someone if they want to (CONSENT KIDS, ITS IMPORTANT) and I also would accept one if I’m comfortable. But there needs to be a connection tho. Otherwise a quick  peck on the cheeks.

rose; what’s something really positive going on in your life right now?

That I’m working on myself to become a healthier (mentally) me.  Because it took waaaaaaaaaaaaay to long.

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to?

My drivers licence! 

violet rose; what does your dream house look like?

A very cozy house. Nice, warm with a library and a lot of plants and flowers! A big garden with both sun and shadow. With a few neighbours. And I would love to live at a dead end next to meadow!

violet; is there any place in particular you’d like to settle down?

Somewhere in England, USA or Australia. Maybe somewhere else in Europe, don’t know.

blue lake; what would you like to do/accomplish before you settle down?

That I finished college. I’m financial stable and that I worked hard for the things that I have. I don’t like doing things the easy way.

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

Český Krumlov in Czech Republic

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it?

A week ago. I just felt good. Don’t have a reason for it.

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

That I was dating a collegue who is also a friend. it was a really weird dream but I didnt tell anyone because my friends ship us hahahah

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

I don’t yet if I want kids (or that my partner does) but if I would have kids I want 3 em. And both a dog and a cat!

blue cobalt; do you like your name? would you give yourself a different name if you could? Yes I like my name (Anouk) and no I will not give myself a different name because I don’t think an other name will fit me.

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

Depends on my mood what it is; like a candle or perfume or deodorant. But probably vanilla, lemongrass and citrus.

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

Earl grey!

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

SUNFLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!! And a few trees and nice flowers that grow each year.

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog?

yes probably. I secretly would love that haha

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

Tall, nice skin, long arms and long legs and my stomach kinda has a sixpack.

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

Probably something like this. But with more high grass. And I soflty hear the wind and a few birds chirping.

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

80% of my life is! What do I think might make it better? Me. But don’t know how yet.

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

1. Italy2. Australia3. New zealand

Yes! They are all three on my bucket list so I will for sure visit them!

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn?

Yes I speak: Dutch, Frisian and a tiny bit of German. And I really want to learn Spanish!

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

That’s way to hard for me to choose. So i am not going to give you an anwser :p

olive green; are you currently reading anything? how do you like it so far?

I am reading the Game of Thrones books. Currently reading A Clash of Kings (second one) 

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

Coco!! And all the Harry Potter movies!

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

Nothing haha

umber; have you drank enough water today?

Not yet! But it’s still morning so don’t worry!

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent? 

I don’t vent a lot. And if I do it’s not a go to person. Probably my dad or anyone else from my family or friends

sepia; name five things that always make you happy.

1. Animals2. When people are happy3. When people are smiling 4. Music!5. Kian and Jc (shout out to them, they are youtubers)

indigo; what’s the best/sweetest compliment you have ever received?

That I’m a very relaxed person to be with. My friends told me that when we had a test I’m made them less nervous. And I really like that.

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic?

Art

black; post a selfie because you are so beautiful!

I would rather not post one but I’ll guess I will post one

There ya go!

Thanks again!

[crystal-creations-0019-blog]

Name: Victor John Adley

Age: 26

Birthday: October 31st

Zodiac: Scorpio

Scorpio-born are passionate and assertive people. They are determined and decisive, and will research until they find out the truth. Scorpio is a great leader, always aware of the situation and also features prominently in resourcefulness. Scorpio is a Water sign and lives to experience and express emotions. Although emotions are very important for Scorpio, they manifest them differently than other water signs. In any case, you can be sure that the Scorpio will keep your secrets, whatever they may be.

Birth Place: London England

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual, Demiromantic

Alignment: Neutral

Blood type: O

Personality construct/disorder: Alexithymia

Alexithymia is essentially a dysfunction in the normal emotional awareness processes that makes it tough for people to put a label on their feelings, Richey explains. In research, it has been described as a “personality construct characterized by altered emotional awareness” and something that “negatively impacts empathic processing.” In practice, alexithymia makes it difficult to recognize when you're feeling something and even more difficult to assign a name to it.

Early studies showed evidence that there may be an interhemispheric transfer deficit among people with alexithymia; that is, the emotional information from the right hemisphere of the brain is not being properly transferred to the language regions in the left hemisphere, as can be caused by a decreased corpus callosum, often present in psychiatric patients who have suffered severe childhood abuse. This would tie in with Victors childhood, as the experiments done on him did mess with his brain quite a bit and could have changed quite a few things around.

Voice Claim?: https://m.youtube.com/watch?autoplay=1&v=3egIslyHnLE

Quote(s)-

“Why fight...when I’ve already won...?”

Physical Appearance

Hair Type: short

Hair Color: Burgundy-Brown

Eye Color: emerald green

Height: 5’10

Weight: 155

Strength: 7/10

Intelligence: 10/10

Charisma: 6/10

Loyalty: 3/10

Hacking skills: 10/10

BioEngineering skills: 8/10

Interrogation skills: 8/10

Cruelty level: 9/10

Outfit: he wears a grey shirt with a black trench coat with lights that changes colors depending on his emotions (there’s something implanted in his head that’s connected to his nervous system to help this work, this jacket was his first invention as an older teen/young adult), he also wears black pants and black shoes

What do the lights on his coat mean?:

• Green-Calm/neutral

• Powder Blue-Sadness

• Red-Anger

• Orange-Embarrassment

• Yellow-Happiness

• Purple-N/A

• Pink-Love

• White-confusion

• Black-Fear/afraid

• Blood red- rage

• Dark Blue- Depression

• Gold yellow-excitement/overjoyed/amusement

• Gray-pain (because why not)

• Brown- nervous/anxious

Personal Life

Hobbies: N/A

Likes: calm tranquil areas, piece and quiet, interrogation {easy interrogation}

Dislikes: the organization (obviously), being touched, incompetence.

Fears: Electrocution

Status: Hacker, Inventor, scientist, Bioengineer.

Old Alliance: an old evil organization, a long time ago

New Alliance: He works for Himself

Personality: he isn’t the nicest person, he can be rude, grumpy, stubborn and cruel. He likes to mess with his patients/‘victims’ (kidnapped agents) from time to time depending on how well they behave for him. He takes his job very seriously and is extremely intelligent with a lack of empathy for others well being, though at times he can be kind depending on if you get on his good side or not. When he is polite it unfortunately could only be a farce, Ruthless and willing to do what it takes to get what he wants from a situation, it is notable that he is more than a bit of a psychopath.

Back Story

Backstory- Victor was a former agent of The organization, though not much is known about him or his backstory. However the obvious scaring on his neck to the back of his head show an obvious sign of experimentations done on him, electricity scars to be more precise about what type they are

Childhood/early teens: At a young age he went through what is called supercharge sessions, which enhances one’s cognitive abilities through stimulation done by performing direct magnetic and electrical pulses to specific regions of the brain. This can be used to either quiet some mental processes and to activate or enhance others. direct stimulation to the brain through magnetic or electrical pulses can improve memory, pattern recognition, the ability to pay attention, mathematical skills, among many others including athletic skills. Side effects of these methods can include the alteration of brain regions they didn’t intend to touch, boosting one ability that comes with an unexpected trade-off where one mental process is sacrificed. It also leaves mental/psychological scars, especially since the ones who did this to him were his own family. He was basically their intelligence experiment, he ran away after the experiment was successful.

• His past is very unknown but it is known that he started inventing at a very young age.

• He was one of Novitatis’ favorite agents for obvious reasons when he was apart of the organization.

• He has a daughter, Celena. However she stays with the mother at the agency. He does actually care for her though, even if he won’t admit to it.

• He tends to keep a monotone voice and blank/neutral expression if not at all times, unless you actually get to him

• He doesn’t like being touched, at all.

• He isn’t easy to interrogate, very stubborn.

• He has hypermobility in his arms/shoulders so keep an eye on him when he’s handcuffed. It’s better to tie him to a chair than handcuff his hands behind his back.

• He’s better at shooting a gun from a far distance rather than fighting hand to hand combat, get close up to him and you can take him down with ease.

• He’s made a serum that causes the bones in ones body to break easily, as easy as cracking a peanut.

• he has also made a serum for paralyzing his victims and of course to help himself fall asleep at night, knocks him out cold and anyone else injected with it

• Victors favorite invention is his force field belt, it looks just like any other regular belt so its easily disguised. The name itself is explanatory enough, it envelopes the body in a blue protective force field once turned on.

[kpop4ever-17-blog]

Windows to the Soul || Kim Taehyung

Author: Jade Taylor/ Group: BTS/ Member: Kim Taehyung/ Type: Fluff, some angst./ Words: 1,580/ POV: 1st/ About: I don't even know how to describe this one, but I was told by my friends that it was interesting... 😂/ A/N: The reason this one is in 1st person and so short, is because I wrote it some time ago, but I can't bear to part with it, and I want it to be posted somewhere. I figured why keep it to myself when I can share it with you! Also, when posting on Tumblr the text for my first post is all jumbled together, like when I hit enter and try to start a new paragraph, I can write it like that, but when it posts it's all one big body of text. Anyone know how to fix this?/ +++      The schools bells rang, signaling lunch time. Every other student filed out of the room to meet up with their friends in either the lunchroom or the courtyard where all the seniors hung out. That's where I belong, out with the seniors, but I chose to spend lunch in my literature classroom today simply because I wanted to avoid my best friend, Taehyung, and his new girlfriend Minji. Whenever she looked at him, her eyes shown a bright and passionate pink. I had learned that color meant love a long time ago, but I couldn't see if he looked at her the same... He always wore sunglasses to cover his eyes.      In our world, the expression 'eyes are the windows to the soul,' couldn't be more true. No one had a definite eye color, it could change at any given moment depending on the emotion a person was feeling. Yellow was happiness, deep blue was sadness, red was anger, black was fear, green was jealously, and pink was love... I never knew what my best friend was feeling and he never knew what I was feeling, but for two completely different reasons. Taehyung wore sunglasses over his eyes, uncomfortable with showing the world his emotions, while my eyes simply didn't change at all. I was different, my eyes were the only ones in the world that didn't change. They were stuck an icy blue, they never once took on a new shade, though I'm sure if they did they'd be a deep dark blue at the moment. "Your not eating today, Echo?" I heard my teacher, Mrs. Kwon, ask. I shook my head. "No ma'am, not today," I replied with a sad smile, turning to look at her. She was happy right now according to her eyes, most likely because she was going to meet Mr. Park in the teachers lounge. I swear there was something going on between those two... "Okay sweetie, just remember to take care of yourself," She told me. I gave her a polite nod before she walked out of the room, leaving me alone.      My thoughts wondered back to Taehyung. In a way I was relieved that I couldn't see his eyes when he looked at Minji, it was painful enough to see that she loved him, but I didn't need to see his love for her. It was painful enough just knowing that they were together. I had done the cliche thing of falling in love with my best friend, perfect right? I was miserably stuck watching as he was taken away from me by a girl who had always acted like I didn't exist. It sucked, but I had no way out of it...      I stayed in silence for a few minutes, staring out the window at the dull gray sky, until I sensed a presence at the door. I slowly turned my head, eyes landing on the brown haired boy with a boxy smile that could turn my heart into a puddle. "Found you," He gave a playful smirk, walking over to me and taking a seat at the desk in front of me. "Yeah," I laughed, "I guess you did, but why aren't you outside with everyone else?" "I could ask you the same thing," He looked at me pointedly, "but to be honest, Minji was kinda suffocating me. She was clinging to me and calling me weird pet names, then when she started talking with her friends I took the chance to make my escape. Why are you alone in a classroom?" "I felt like staying in today," I shrugged, "Shouldn't you be happy about her giving you pet names and wanting to be close to you? She's your girlfriend after all."      I mentally scowled at the word, 'girlfriend.' "I don't know, maybe. It's just weird with her, it'd be different if..." He stopped himself, pursing his lips together. My brows knitted together in confusion at his words. What the fuck is he going on about? "Different if what?" I questioned. "Nevermind, I don't know where I was going with that," He shook his head, strands of brown falling across his dark shades. I had gotten to see his eyes a handful of times before when he was happy or angry, but I'd give anything to see them right now just to know what he was feeling. "Well, you said it's weird with her, so did you stop to think about how you feel towards her? Like, do you actually like her romantically?" I found myself asking. He was silent for a moment before answering. "At first when she confessed to me, I just went with it to save her feelings, but now that it's been a little over a week I realize I trapped myself in a situation where I didn't feel anything for her. Now, I feel bad for leading her on, but I'd also feel bad if I broke up with her," He explained, wringing his hands together. I sighed. "Tae, what did you tell me when Chen asked me out?" I asked him in a scolding tone, recalling the time when we were juniors and the senior boy confessed to me. I told Tae that I was thinking about accepting him, not because I liked him, but I didn't want to hurt him. "I know, I know, but I thought she could help me forg- I... This is different," He defended, turning to look at me through his glasses. "How is this any different!?" I asked incredulously, "It's the same damn thing and you know it! You didn't want me dating someone I didn't like because I'd be miserable, and you were just being a good friend, so how do you think I feel knowing that someone I love is miserable in his relationship!?"      It was deadly silent, and I thought maybe he didn't know how to reply, until he started stuttering, "Y-Yo-You s-said..."       Suddenly I realized what I said. I told him that I loved him. Shit. "I- Uh.. Yeah, I said that," I clamored out of my seat and turned toward the door. I still had twenty minutes of this class after lunch, but I'd just spend that in a supply closet or something before heading to my last class of the day, "Just forget I said that!" "Wait! Come back, you can't just drop that on me then run away, we need to talk about this!" He called. I could her the desk scrape against the floor and his quick footfalls rushing up behind me.      I broke into a sprint, leaving the classroom and dashing down the halls. I could hear him gaining on me, and I knew there was no way I'd outrun him, so I was lucky when the bell rang signalling lunch for the next group and time to return to class for mine. The hungry teenagers rushing out of various rooms cut in between Taehyung and I allowing for my smooth escape into a supply closet. I sunk to the floor there, hugging my knees to my chest in humiliation. I was so stupid, things between Taehyung and I would never be the same again, and it was all my fault... ••••••      I had attended my maths class after giving myself a mental pep-talk to leave the supply closet. The whole time in the class I was aware of Taehyung's eyes on me from across the room, so when the bell rang for dismissal I couldn't get out of the room fast enough. I was speed walking down the hallway hoping I'd get lucky like last time, but I should have known I wouldn't. A hand took hold of my forearm and stopped me just before I reached the exit, and I was spun around to see Tae looking down on me through his shades. "You're not getting away this time," He told me. I sighed, knowing he was right, "Did you mean it?" "Mean what?" I asked, impatiently wanting to go home and drown I'm my self pity. The rest of the student body exited the building leaving us alone in an empty hallway. "I... Yes, I meant it," I admitted, blushing. "If only I had known," He whispered, still holding onto my arm with his left hand. "It's not like it would have changed anything," I said softly, by chest stinging. "It would have changed everything..." "How?" I questioned. He moved closer to me, so close I could feel his breath on my face. I noticed his right hand reach up and pull his glasses off his face, his eyes we're closed like he was thinking. Then, suddenly they fluttered open and gazed into mine, only then I noticed the color. They were a loving pink, which completely astounded me. "How long have you-" I wanted to ask how long he had felt this way, but I was cut of by his soft lips pressing against mine in a sweet kiss. I responded immediately, but it didn't last long before I pushed him away feeling guilty. "Shit! What about Minji!?" I questioned in panic. I saw his guilty expression, but he got rid of it quickly before pulling me into a hug flush against his chest. "Of course I feel terrible about it, but I'm going to break up with her," He sighed, "I love you, and I'm not letting you go."      Though I still felt guilty about Minji, I smiled... He loved me...