#imagine that on HoV-

[godisasimp]

Honkai 6.5 Leak

Hi baby

Is your name "gacha pyramid" ? Can it please be that.

Like don't get me wrong I would buy you day one if you were B-chips but for my well being I need you to be cristals/gacha pyramid

God the moment her ult animation drops....

*Mihoyo took away her burst animation when you finish a stage in ER so no slowmo of it RIP*

[cloud-ya]

I think the reason the final herrscher looks like HOV is because previous era Kiana became final herrscher .

Like mei and dr mei, Bronya and Prometheus and the two Himekos so on

I'd still expect them to rather use the design they used in manga that's based on ggz kiana

[grlpartdoll]

GASP. GHOSTY IS LOSTENING TO HIS URGES!!! EBRYONE HIDE YO MAMAS, HIDE YOUR KIDS!!!

no seriously. 18+. Minors blocked on sight :D!!!

Part ?? Of bodyguard series <3 thankfully the cameras were off for the day but (⁠⊙⁠_⁠◎⁠) also this is not proofread at all.

Written with Afab reader in mind but no mentions of genitals for the reader so it's really up to u to imagine! Errrmmm yes I think that's it!

CW : ghost cock :] (it's big btw) ghost-big-huge-giant-hands-riley.

"Will you sit down?" Ghost growls for the uptenth time, though this time he sounds more serious — more worried.

You do, if only because you're starting to ache down the waist worst then you did after practice.

You settle on the edge of the bed, and Ghost kneels there beside it, going to remove your tiny kitten heels for you. They're off in seconds, with his expertise in the matter of shoe removal (you'd forced him to learn how by always forgetting to undress before falling into bed for a '5 minute nap' and never waking up)

"Take yor'shirt off."

You immediately cover yourself, and though youre not even naked yet, you heat all over, shaking your head hastily.

"I'll see my physical therapist tomorrow — it's fine."

He fixes you with a mean glare you've learned means a silent plea from him to just listen.

You sigh, blinking multiple times to try and rationalize the fact that you're about to take off your shirt in front of Ghost. In front of the man you'd been not so openly having secret fantasies about.

You nod, then, as he fingers at the edge of your cardigan. His oddly big hands drift, slowly, as though memorizing every slope and hill of your skin. He undoes the buttons with surgical precision, keeping his touch light and professional.

Then, the warmth of his palms rise, and he lays them down atop your shoulders — slopping down your arms gently as he removes the fabric off of your skin.

You sit there, in nothing but a bralette, breath stuck in your throat with Ghost's hands working softly on putting the cardigan away.

You wriggle a little uncomfortably, and his focus shifts to you, his eyes snapping upwards and away from the green sweater.

"S'just me." He reminds you.

And it is exactly because it is just him that you're like this — twitchy and covered in goosebumps.

"I know." Your voice comes away breathy, as much as you had hoped it wouldn't.

His pupils dilate a little. You think. But he doesn't seem to notice at all. Only focuses on the blue and black of your ribs.

Your dance partner for a special broadcast performance had dropped you during rehearsal, and you'd been left with a few torned rib ligaments and a bruised torso.

Needless to say Ghost hadnt been too happy to hear about that — especially since he had been taking his first break in a long, long while.

When he came back around during your lunch and you were sitting there with ice to your chest, he'd glared at your manager and demanded answers. You're only glad the dancer had already been gone when Ghost made it to you — and that the cameras had stopped rolling for the day.

"Does it still hurt t'breathe?"

You try it, and nod when pain prickles at your chest. You wince, trying to wind down the pain by exhaling.

"You're doin' good." He praised, pressing a terribly gentle hand on the bruise.

"Still ache when I touch here?"

A whole different type of ache ignites in you when his big hand covers half of your torso — but you shake your head.

"Good." His hand slips lower, below the ribs. At your waist.

"And here?"

A noise makes it out of you when he squeezes. It's not pain — and he hears the difference. Still, he removes his hand, something shifting under the mask. His lips move for a moment. Not a smile — you know because his eyes don't wrinkle like they do when he gives you that shit eating grin.

"What was that?" He asks, voice rougher than usual.

"Sorry. Your hands are just.. cold." You lie blantantly, trying to sound natural, and failing miserably.

His hands rise again, and he lets them hover above your hips. "Can I?"

Dangerous territory. But you nod.

His hands wrap around them — and though you've never been known to be the smallest, or the biggest, his hands wrap comfortably around your hips. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head when his fingers press into your lower back, and you notice just how near to each other they are. There was no way —

He pushes again. Yes. If he'd wanted, if he had squeezed a little harder, you're sure he could have touched finger to finger with his two hands wrapped around your hips. Not your waist — but your hips.

Somehow that is the thing that breaks the dam, and you find yourself melting against his touch, a god-awful noise being pried from your throat.

He's quiet for a moment — doesn't dare move in case he's hurt you. But it takes only a few seconds for him to make the difference between a noise of pain and one of pure unadulterated want.

His voice is almost teasing when he says, in a condescending coo ; "What was that, Lovie?"

You whine in humiliation, trying to push him away, but he pulls you back towards him, your knees making a brutal 'tock' sound when you fall on the floor with him, body to body.

Something hard and hot and heavy presses against your tummy, and you gasp, eyes shooting up towards his. That couldn't be his — no. That thing pressed against your tummy was far too thick, far too big to be anything of the nature. And yet. It was an unmistakable warmth buldging through his uniform pants, something that you could almost feel was throbbing at your nearness.

"Can't be making all those pretty little noises, y'hear me?"

"It's not m'fault—" you're muffled when he presses his hand against your mouth, the roughness of it mismatched with the plump, healthy skin of your well-taken care features. His fingers tighten around your jaw, and keep a hold of you effortlessly, only the palm being enough to cover the upper part of your face.

"M'gunna have to keep you like this when I check you up from now on? Uh?" His body moves of his own accord, careening forward, his length dragging itself up — and down. A rumble grows in his chest, but never comes out from his lips.

"Fuckin' cocktease." He curses quietly, tsk-ing when you nibble on his fingers, brows furrowed in something that's not pain, but not quite pleasure either.

"Ol'right, olright," he grumbles, removing his hand, but keeping it below your chin. "'M g'nna be nice t'ya, kid. Let you rest."

"No—" your hands scramble to touch him in a slight panic induced spur. But he pulls back, catching your wrists.

"M'not doing this with'ya while you're hurt."

"I'm fine!" You practically choke out, trying to fight his grip. Unfortunately for you, though, your strength never compares.

"Enough." He says, this time more serious.

Your bottom falling onto the heels of your feet, you pout at him.

"Dun't give me that look. Promise when you're better I'll treat you real nice." He nudges the sharp edge of your face, before picking you up in one languid motion, placing you back into your bed.

"Promise?" You says, a bit breathless.

"Yeah," he lays you down gently, and you hiss as your body locks up. He helps you on the way down, though, humming and fussing all over you, making sure you're comfortable. "Promise."

He leans in, his hand pushing a dent into your pillow. "Close your little eyes, bambi."

You do. Nothing happens for a moment, but then —

His lips are on your forehead. His lips, unfiltered, undisturbed by a old war-hewned mask. Rough and chapped, so carefully grazing your forehead you almost want to cry.

"When I take you f'the first time, kid, the only thing you will feel the next day is me." He speaks against your skin. "Not sum' pain in your rib from another man."

You want to protest — tell him that that is just ridiculous, that the partner you'd been assigned for all but a month had nothing to do with the molten fire in your belly.

But you remain quiet, and sigh, your lashes fluttering.

He pulls back, and you keep your eyes closed. When his footsteps retreat, and his beefy frame audibly falls into his reserved chair, you twist away from him under the cover, and open your eyes to the blank wall in front of you.

You so badly want to look at him. Want to see that familiar face he'd graced you with only once when you were sick. But you know he has his boundaries. And you know how to listen to a command when he gives you one.

"Goodnight, Simon." You whisper.

He doesn't answer, but you know he's there, watching over you. Always.

[herrscherofmagic]

Fun fact! If Sirin survived the Second Eruption, then by the start of the game she would've been old enough to be Kiana's teacher at St. Freya :)

so I was thinking about what it might've been like if only Sirin survived the Second Eruption & was adopted by Cecilia and Siegfried, right?

and usually that scenario is depicted in fanart/fanfic as being Second Eruption Sirin alongside Kiana and/or Bianka and/or HoV, and the rest of the cast as we see them later in the story.

Plus Captianverse Sirin is shown alongside Definitely-Not-Bronya and Definitely-Not-Seele and about the same age as them. So I imagine this is the mental image most people have of Sirin when they think "Sirin with the Kaslana family".

Here's the thing, though! Second Eruption takes place in the year 2000, right?

Sirin was still a kid, my guess is ~12 years old but could be a bit younger or older than that.

But Mei and Kiana were really small children and Bronya hadn't even been born yet!

So if Sirin DID survive the Second Eruption in the real world... she'd be roughly 10 years older than Kiana, give or take a couple years. By 2015, Sirin would be in her early-to-mid-20s!

What's more: Himeko was a high school graduate in 2005, that means she'd only be like 5-6 years older than Sirin (assuming she's 17 or 18 at graduation). Plus according to a Honkai wiki, Rita was 11 years old in 2007. Meaning... Sirin would be only a few years younger than Himeko and she'd even be a few years older than Rita.

By the Kiana would've been old enough to go to St. Freya...

Sirin could've gone to St. Freya, GRADUATED, gotten experience as a Valkyrie, and then returned to be a teacher at St. Freya!

Rita would've been old enough to have been a recent graduate (assuming she ever would've gone to St. Freya in such a world), and Himeko would've already been a teacher for a few years at that point.

So if Sirin survived the Second Eruption, Himeko & Sirin could both have been teachers at St. Freya, alongside Theresa and Principal Cecilia- making Sirin both the adoptive sister of Kiana AND a teacher to her, Mei, Bronya, and Fu Hua. and why not Seele too, just for funsies?

just some food for thought~ ^.^

[dccomicsimagines]

One Day At A Time - Nightwing x Reader - Part Two

Part One

***

“Oh yeah, I think it’s in the second drawer in the filing cabinet,” Dick said from the living room. His phone pressed to his ear. You peeked at him from the kitchen. Your hands covered in suds from the dishes. 

“I wonder who’s he talking to,” Jason said, coming up behind you with the dish towel over his shoulder. He offered to dry after Dick left to answer the phone. 

You hummed. “Probably another person I don’t know.”

Jason’s gaze weighed on you as you went back to the sink to keep washing. “You know, it’s just going to get easier.” He came back to your side, taking a plate you handed him. 

“What do you mean?” You eyed him, worrying your lip. 

“Eventually, you’ll meet everyone and you’ll know everyone. Sure maybe not all the details, but who says those are important?” He nudged your arm, smirking. 

A smile tugged at your lips. You felt lighter. “I guess you are right. I mean I feel like I know you now. Even though I don’t remember...” You gently picked up a bubble and held it in your palm.

“If it helps, it’s probably best you don’t remember how we first met.” Jason blushed. You thought it odd since he didn’t blush once during the tales of his space adventures.

“Oh no, what happened?” You looked up at him, eyes widening when he coughed and wouldn’t meet your eye. 

Jason mumbled and focused on drying the plate. You blew the bubble at him. He gasped, taking a step back. “Okay, fine.” Dick’s voice still came from the living room. Jason took a breath. “You tased me.”

Your jaw dropped. "I tased you?!"

Jason snorted, chuckling at your expression. "I might have been starting a fight with Dick on the roof of his old apartment. You were there to spend the weekend." He threw the towel on the counter. "You came up and tased me before I could lay a hand on him."

Hilarity filled you. A giggle slipped out. "So you deserved to be tased then? Starting fights like a naughty little boy who's bored."

"Oh you little..." Jason dipped his hand into the dishwater and flung some at you. You screamed, laughing as you tried to block.

You grabbed your sponge and threw it at his chest. He caught it, but it splashed him upon impact.

"Now you're going to get it." Jason reached for the sprayer next to the faucet. You snatched it first, spraying him in the face. He sputtered, grabbing the towel to shield himself.

"What's going on in here?!" Dick's voice filled the kitchen. You dropped the sprayer at the same time Jason dropped his towel.

"She started it," Jason said, pointing at you. You gasped, crossing your arms over your wet shirt.

"I did not. You splashed me first." You let out a giggle when you caught Dick trying to hide a smile.

"Did not." Jason poked your shoulder before grabbing the sprayer. You ducked, but he wasn't aiming at you.

Dick took the hit to the face, unflinching. You put your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. Jason had a gleeful grin.

"You're dead, Jay." Dick wiped his face with his hand before moving forward so fast, you almost didn't see him. He grabbed Jason's shirt and dunked him in the sink.

You giggled uncontrollably, shuffling out of the way. Searching drawers, you found dry towels. Using one on the floor, you used another to dry yourself.

Jason sprayed Dick repeatedly with the sprayer as Dick kept dunking him. Your smile fell. "Guys, stop."

Dick let Jason go at your word. Jason took the opportunity to spray Dick again. "Seriously?" Dick said, unamused.

"Ha." Jason grinned before looking at you. "Sorry for flooding the kitchen, (Y/N), but you did start it."

You rolled your eyes. Dick shook his head, showering water droplets around the room. You giggled again, handing him a towel. His hand brushed yours. Your skin buzzed at the pressure.

It was a relief, you thought. That you were attracted to him. You didn't want to even imagine what you would do if you weren’t.

Your stomach fluttered in an odd way. You touched your baby bump, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?" Dick hovered close. He reached out to lay his hand over yours, but stopped when you took a step back.

"Sorry." You took a quick breath. "I think the baby moved." You reached for his hand and put it against your bump. "I don't know if you can feel it. It was like a hummingbird's wings."

Dick's eyes widened. His soaked clothes and the waterlogged kitchen forgotten. "Really?" He sank down onto his knees. "Hey baby." He rubbed your bump in pure awe.

It felt strangely right to have him there. Were you remembering a time from before? Maybe when you first told him? You racked your brain, but nothing came.

“The baby’s moving because they know their Uncle Jay is here.” Jason grabbed a mop from the cabinet and started to soak up water. 

Dick looked up at you, ignoring Jason. “Are you feeling okay?” 

You touched your cheeks to find tears you didn’t know you had. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. It just...I guess it didn’t feel real until now.” You gently brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

“It’s very real, sweetheart.” He smiled up at you. Your heart fluttered. His eyes were so blue. You sighed, forgetting about the wet kitchen and your soaked clothes.

***

Dick leaned against the door frame as you were back in the kitchen later that evening. You were by the stove, starting a pot of your special chili. A recipe you learned to make after living with two speedsters. 

Jason was in the living room, napping away like he owned the place. Dick knew he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Normally, Dick would have minded, but you seemed happier with the company. Your shoulders were straighter, steps lighter. Smiles appeared on your lips easier. Did it burn him that Jason helped you perk up? Yes, but you were better nevertheless.

“I hope you know if we keep feeding him, he’s never going to leave.” He grinned when you looked at him in surprise. 

“Be nice.” You glanced at your pot frowning before going to the fridge to pull out ingredients. 

“My family loves your chili, enough that we might have all of them here if word gets out.” Dick went to wash his hands. The kitchen had thankfully been cleaned up from the water fight earlier. “We won’t be able to rid of them.” You picked up an onion, but Dick took it from you. “I’ll chop.”

You blinked at him. “Thank you.” You went back to the stove. Calm silence filled the kitchen. Dick rolled his shoulders, more relaxed than he had been since you fell that horrible night. 

“Who were you talking to this morning?” you asked suddenly. Dick stopped to wipe his eyes on his sleeve as he chopped the onion. 

“Megan from work. You should know her. She went to college with you.” Dick sniffled. You dropped the spoon you had been holding. 

“Meg Lopez.” You tittered. Dick smiled, seeing you shake with excitement. “You mean I became friends with an Olympian?” 

Dick bit his lip to keep from chuckling. “Yeah, but she didn’t make it to the Olympics. Her knee gave out.”

Your face fell. Dick’s heart dropped with it. “Oh, poor Meg. She was so determined. So much more than me. You know, I just wanted to fly, but she wanted to be the best.” 

It hit him as hard as a punch in the gut. You were so passionate, so kind. It was a honor that you gave him the time of day. Especially now when you didn’t remember anything.

“She was pretty depressed.” Dick sniffled again, pausing to turn away to blink away tears. “But you reached out, offered a position with us. Now she’s teaching others to be the best.” He froze when you were suddenly next to him, wiping his eyes with a wet paper towel.

“That’s amazing. I’m glad she turned things around.” You pulled away with a slight blush on your cheeks. 

“Thanks sweetheart.” Dick almost leaned over to kiss you, but stopped himself when he noted your wariness. “You two are very good friends.”

You pursed your lips. He could see the child-like awe shining through. It made his heart flutter. “Really?”

Dick nodded. He finished chopping the onion, gently scraping the pieces into the waiting bowl. “Really.”

You went to the sink to wash the tomatoes. “I was wondering if I could go to the school you...we built?” You kept your back to him. “It would be nice to go back to work. I always wanted to teach and it would be good to have something else to focus on.”

A wave of mixed emotions flooded through Dick. He was afraid you would ask to go to the school. All he could see was you having a setback when your young students wouldn’t understand how you couldn’t remember them. He swallowed hard, forcing a smile on his face when you turned.

“Sure. I’ll call Megan tonight to let her know.” Dick sighed in relief when you smiled and handed him the tomatoes. Thank goodness you didn’t see his hesitation. “We’ll go in tomorrow. I have some paperwork to do anyway.”

“Good.” You went back to cooking. Dick watched you. He racked his brain to come up with an idea. Tomorrow had to go well. No matter what. Your future depended on it.

***

You rubbed your arms, hopping in place as Dick unlocked a backdoor to the school. It was a renovated old warehouse. The sign in the front said Grayson Aerial School. You let out a breath.

You asked Dick if it was named after him. His shoulders fell at your words. ‘It was named after us. We started the school after we married.’ 

A cloud of misery hovered over you as it started to rain. You glanced up at the sky, hating the dull grey of the stormy early morning.

“Hey.” Dick touched your arm. “Come on. Let’s get inside before we get soaked.”

He held the door for you. You headed into the dark building, swallowing hard as the raindrops dinged on the tin roof. 

Dick flicked on the lights. You blinked, taking in the hallway that led to a huge open space.

The ceiling was high, a trapeze set above. It looked complicated, but you ached to learn more. Across the room was all the gymnastic equipment. Shining and new. Both areas separated by a small gate.  

“We had to add the gate when we started our toddler classes. Couldn’t have the kids underfoot while we did trapeze.” Dick put his hands in his pockets, coming to your side. “Everything is state of the art.”

“How did you...” You cleared your throat, correcting yourself before you made him sad again. “How did we get the money for this?”

Dick pursed his lips. “I’m pretty wealthy on my own. My parents’ savings were invested very wisely and I was saving it for a rainy day.” He chuckled as the raindrops on the roof sounded louder. It had to be a full storm now. “Besides, Bruce would be willing to give us a loan. He knows what this school means for this neighborhood.”

You hummed and hugged yourself tightly. It took you a long time to decide what to wear. You settled on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. However, you added the oversized sweatshirt to hide your baby bump. All your clothes felt too snug. You should see if you could go shopping soon before you had nothing to wear.

“Where’s the boxing and dance classes held? You said those were newer.” Walking around the room, you stopped to study the uneven bars. 

Dick pointed to different doors. “We set up a boxing ring in that one, dance studio in the other. Plus we added a gym with exercise equipment. Locker rooms and bathrooms over there.” He pointed to colorful double doors. “That leads to the lobby. We have a receptionist most days since we open up the gym and locker rooms to the public. There’s a lot of homeless in the area. It was your idea to let them come in to shower and such after hours.”

“Really?” You blinked. “Wow.” Dick took your hand and led you over to a brightly colored door labeled Office. 

“We hire someone to clean everything at night anyway. It just makes sense that we use what we have to help the community,” Dick said, stopping before the door and gesturing for you to open it.

You raised an eyebrow and turned the handle. The door swung open, the lights clicked on. “Surprise!” Four people jumped out from behind the desks. You flinched, taking a step back only to run into Dick’s chest.

“I told you guys not to scare us,” Dick said with a soft chuckle. You forced yourself to relax, catching your breath. The office was decorated with colorful streamers and a Welcome Back sign hung off the far wall.

“Sorry, we couldn’t resist.” Meg stepped forward. You knew her right away. Her hair was longer, slightly darker than before. Still as beautiful. Your breath caught in your throat. She looked at you and tilted her head. “Do you remember me, (Y/N)?”

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, you’re Meg Lopez, we are...were on the same gymnastic team at Central City U.” 

She grinned, relaxing her shoulders. “Good. I’ll introduce the rest of these hooligans.” She turned to the people behind her. “This is Tommy Bronson. He teaches our new boxing classes and has been subbing for the trapeze classes too.”

He waved. “I’m so glad you two are back. I’m not much of an acrobat.” He chuckled softly. 

“You do alright.” Dick and Tommy pound hugged. “Thank you.”

“This is Amara and Alex, our dance instructors.” Meg gestured to the other two. You gave them a shy wave. They both gave you a smile, but didn’t try to approach you. You sensed they weren’t sure how to interact with you. Honestly, you didn’t know what to do either.

Meg rocked on her feet before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we got muffins, juice, and coffee in my office. We’ll go over stuff for the classes we have.”

“I’ll catch up with you two later,” Dick said as you looked back at him. Anxiety clawed at your stomach. Dick flashed you a reassuring smile, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I won’t be far away, okay?” he whispered in your ear. 

Your heart slowed. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He pulled away and walked off with Tommy and the dancers. Meg pulled you into her office. You recognized Meg in the photos on the wall. Most from her competitions. However, one particular photo made you stop in your tracks.

“I’m an All-American?” Your eyes widened when Meg nodded, grinning. The photo was of you and Meg. Meg was on crutches and you were in your Central City U leotard with the All-American plaque in your hands.

“Yep, you killed it your senior year.” Meg blinked rapidly, her eyes teary. “I hurt my knee that year and you swore you would win for me. And you did.” She laughed. “I think Dick helped with that too. He really made you happy and supported you all the way.” 

You took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You did amazing. I was so awed.” Meg turned to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. “I always knew you were one to watch.”

That was what you were afraid of. A lump formed in your throat. “I’m sorry I probably won’t be much help today.” You took a seat and took a blueberry muffin that looked delicious. Not as good as your own, of course.

“We’ll take this one step at a time,” Meg said, sitting down next to you. She took out a binder. “Basics. I can lead the classes today and you’ll just help. If you feel more confident, then you can take over and I’ll assist.” She flashed you that smile she used every time she won. For some reason, that made you very reassured.

***

Dick leaned against the wall, drinking from his water bottle. He had just finished an intermediate class of trapeze. His body ached in a good way. Teaching had never been something he wanted to do until he met you.

Your laughter tickled his ears. Dick’s gaze drew to you. 

You were helping a nervous toddler walk along the balance beam. The beam itself was only an inch off the ground, but for the toddler, it was forty stories on a skyscraper. 

“Look ahead, not down,” you said, a soothing smile on your face. You held their hand as they trembled. “Take a deep breath and be brave.” Your eyes flashed down to the nametag. “Riley.”

Dick’s heart skipped a beat. The confidence that shined from you. It was like the old you. He reminded himself to thank Megan for coming up with the idea of everyone wearing nametags to help you. His fears were for nothing.

The toddler looked up at you with such big eyes. They took a deep breath, copying you before they carefully started to walk.

In his mind’s eye, Dick saw you with his child. You were going to be a good mother. He only hoped he could be a good match as a father. 

“Well, I can see you’re still staring at her like always, so that’s a good sign.” A soft chuckle jerked Dick out of his thoughts.

He grinned. “Hi Donna. What brings you here?” 

Donna Troy smiled back at him, giving him a hug when he offered. “You told me it was your first day back, so I had to stop by.” 

“It’s great to see you.” Dick pulled away after a moment when he caught you watching him curiously from afar. Megan pulled you away to focus back on the toddlers. “I’ll have to...reintroduce you to (Y/N) when she’s done with class.”

Donna nodded, giving you a wave and a smile when you looked back over at them. Dick’s heart sank slightly when you did an awkward wave back. 

A toddler fell, bursting into tears. You knelt down to help them up. Your knees wobbled, almost losing your balance, but you caught yourself gracefully. Dick’s cheeks warmed at the sight. You were so cute, learning to deal with the added weight of the baby.

Maybe you would let him feel the bump again? And hold you? He missed your touch, the random kisses, hugs, arm squeezes. Both you and Dick showed your love through physical touch. He ached for it like an addict on their first sober week.

“You okay?” Donna’s voice brought Dick back to reality. She touched his cheek. Dick was surprised to find them wet.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, quickly wiping his face with his hands. “I have some paperwork to do, want to hang out in the office?”

“Sure.” Donna patted his shoulder. Dick pursed his lips and led the way to the office. He glanced over at you. You met his eye, giving him that shy smile he remembered from the first few weeks of dating. His heart fluttered. He had to admit, he did miss that smile. 

Dick threw a wave to Alex and Amara who were at their desks, chatting away about plans for their dance class for high schoolers. The local school canceled their dance program. You insisted on filling that hole. Alex and Amara eagerly agreed.

Donna closed the door behind them as Dick collapsed into his desk chair. Actually, this was your office too. Your desk sat across from his. He pursed his lips. The budget sheets were still on your desk, opened like you just stepped out to see how classes were going. 

“You’re not doing well,” Donna said after watching him for a solid minute. Dick blushed, pulling his gaze away from your desk. She leaned against his desk. “Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

 He felt himself deflating. “I guess I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting façade he kept up for you go. “It’s like I lost her.” A lump formed in his throat. “Like she...she...left, but she’s here. I see her and I have this moment of relief that everything is okay and we’re back to normal, but then it just gets swiped out from under me. Like when she asked where my parents were.”

Dick looked at Donna, taking a breath when she did. She reached out to take his hand. 

“(Y/N) might as well as slapped me.” Dick let out the breath slowly. His hands shook in her grasp. “I played it off as gently as I could, but fuck, the way she looked after I told her how I lost my parents. It was like I hit her.” Your horror haunted him. Almost as bad as your terror when you escaped from the hospital. 

“I mean this was going to be hard, but then we have to worry about the baby. How do I get her to prepare for it when she doesn’t even remember us trying for one? Doesn’t remember telling me how much she wanted a family? One that is happy and doesn’t favor one child over the other.” 

Donna blinked in surprise. “Don’t tell Wally if you see him. (Y/N) would never forgive me. He’s none the wiser about it,” Dick said quickly. “I don’t want to make the situation worse with him.”

“They don’t speak already, so it couldn’t get worse.” Donna squeezed his hand. “Dick, you are doing a great job though. Not many people would be able to handle this as well as you have.”

“Am I handling it well?” Dick choked. His eyes burned. He blinked, chasing the tears away. “It feels like I’m screwing up.”

Donna sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk. “You’re not screwing it up. I think you’re doing the best you can in an impossible situation.” She gestured toward the door. “(Y/N) seems to be doing well if she’s back to teaching.”

“She wanted to come back. It would do her good to have something to occupy her mind.” Dick pulled his hand away from Donna and rubbed his chin. He couldn’t make himself believe Donna. “But there’s nothing. She doesn’t have any memories coming back. Nothing rings a bell.” 

Donna’s shoulders fell. “Nothing at all?” 

Dick shook his head. He leaned back in his chair with a groan. “I’m afraid Bruce might be right.”

“About what?” Donna studied your desk, reaching over to adjust the frame on your desk. It was a picture of your first gymnastics class that you taught at the school. You were so proud. Dick’s heart crumbled again.

“That someone might have erased her memory of me on purpose, that she was targeted.” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping he was wrong because he hasn’t found anything yet, but...it’s just...I don’t want to believe that someone could just...destroy our marriage, our lives.”

Donna stood up, picking up a photo of you and Dick posing in front of the warehouse. You both just closed on it. He remembered how you couldn’t stop talking, buzzing with excitement. “Stop that. Your marriage is not gone. Do you have to work at it? Yes. Do you need to take it slow? Yes. But it’s not gone.”

“How do you know that?” Dick stared at the photo. He let his tears fall freely. 

“I know because the love you two have can’t be stopped.” Donna put the photo down and pulled Dick into a hug. “You two beat the odds before. You can do it again.”

Dick buried his face in her shoulder, melting into her arms. He hoped she was right.

***

“We can’t tell Wally,” you said, sitting up suddenly from the bed and readjusting your shirt. 

“(Y/N), you’re an adult. He can’t tell you what to do,” Dick said, frowning as you pulled away from him. 

It was about three months after you first met at Wally’s engagement party. Dick flew to Central City to visit you after spending most of those months texting and calling each other. 

You hadn’t progressed past some heavy make out sessions. You were inexperienced and Dick didn’t want to push his advantage. Especially when you were currently in his hotel room.

“It’s just complicated.” You stood up and walked to the mirror. Dick watched you check the hickey on your neck, pressing it rather curiously with your fingertips.

“Did I hurt you?” Dick asked. He lost his shirt at some point, not bothering to find it as he came up behind you. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.”

You looked at him. “No, I like it.” The smile on your lips sent shivers down his spine. 

Dick couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at you. “That’s good to know.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Your hands rested on his chest, sliding up and around his neck. “When do I get to leave one on you?”

“Anytime you want, sweetheart.” Dick smirked. He pulled your arms from around his neck. “But I know you’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” You blinked, lips turning down slightly. 

“Come on, why would it be complicated?” Dick twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. He tugged gently.

You cocked your head, studying him. “I asked him about you. He didn’t like that I did.”

Dick felt all the air in his lungs leave at once. “What did he say?”

“He told me to stay away from you. Then went on how your relationships with Starfire and Batgirl went.” You traced a heart on his chest. “I know he means well, but I really don’t want to have Wally constantly telling me to break up with you while we’re...getting to know each other.”

“Is there anything you want to ask me about them? I know I already told you, but is there anything you want to clear up? Wally doesn’t know the whole story.” Dick watched your fingers as they went to tracing a figure-eight on his chest. Your fingers brushed his nipple, sending a pleasurable buzz down to his groin.

“No, what you said was enough. You were young and it’s in the past. They learned, you learned.” You shrugged. “I mean no one is telling you to stay away from me because of my prom date in high school.”

Dick chuckled. “You mean the vomiter?”

“Oh yeah.” You laughed. Music to Dick’s ears. “And I loved my dress too. My mom threw it out, but I was able to cut a patch of it to save before she got ahold of it.” The shine in your eyes dimmed slightly. “She was so angry. I bought it with my own money, but she thought I spent too much. You know, because I have to save all my money for college because they only saved enough for Wally’s.”

“But then you got a free ride.” Dick smiled, taking your hand from his chest and kissing your knuckles. “Amazing.” His heart overflowed when you smiled back at him.

“Yep.” You kissed him with a passion that surprised him. Dick lifted you up in his arms and took you back to bed. Maybe you could give him a matching hickey? It was still early, but Dick was quickly finding himself completely infatuated with you.

***

“Are you sure it’s okay?” You asked again for the fifth time as you set aside the sanitizer you were using on the equipment. It was the end of the day. You were cleaning up with Dick’s help. 

Megan was finishing the payroll. Apparently, it was something you used to do, but you didn’t know how. She offered to do it today, not wanting to add too much to your plate at once. 

“Yeah, it’s okay. Go have fun with Megan.” Dick threw you a smile. His eyes were still red, slightly swollen. You wondered what happened. Did the other woman, Donna, make him cry? Did he break down from everything? You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how you would take the answer.

You dropped your rag, kneeling down to pick it up. “I just wanted to get clothes that fit better.” You pressed your lips together. “I was worried my pants might split.” A nervous giggle slipped out of you.

“(Y/N).” Dick came to your side. You looked up at him, taking his hand when he offered. “It’s fine.”

You stood up with his help. The calluses on his hand felt...nice. Your hand lingered in his. “Are you okay?” you asked, studying him. 

He forced a smile. “Yeah.” He squeezed your fingers. “I got some work to do anyway. Just promise me you’ll come home, huh?”

“Of course.” You pulled your hand away from him. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I was kidding.” Dick leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “Have fun, sweetheart.” He took the rag and your spray bottle. “I’ll give you my card.”

You blinked. “Oh, I never asked where my debit card was? Or do I have a credit card now? I remember applying for a student one a few weeks ago.” 

Dick furrowed his brow. Your face burned. “Right...not a few weeks ago. Don’t mind me,” you said quickly, turning away. “Thank you. I’ll have fun and try not to break your bank account.”

Dick let out a loud breath. “It’s okay to be confused.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.  “But I’m sick of making you sad when I do.”

He took a sharp breath. “Oh, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about me.” He set the rag and bottle down on the balance beam. There was a moment of hesitation before he gently laid his hands on your shoulders. His hands were warm, a beam of sunlight on a summer day. 

“But I do. You’re my husband.” You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your stomach. 

The ring sparkled. You could see it in the corner of your eye. 

Dick studied you. His lips trembled slightly before you were suddenly in his arms. “But you don’t have to.” He choked slightly. “That’s the thing. You haven’t fallen in love with me, you don’t have a history with me that you remember. (Y/N), you don’t have to go along with this to make me happy.”

You blinked. Your nose pressed against his shirt. He smelled good, very good. Your abdomen buzzed pleasantly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t. You said we’re going to start over. Make new memories.”

Dick tightened his arms. Your baby bump pressed against him. The tiniest tickle came from your bump. “But you shouldn’t be forced into this.”

“I want this,” you said firmly, looking up at him when he pulled away. “You aren’t forcing me into anything, because you’re not that type of person.”

“How do you know that?” Dick rubbed your back, searching your face for the answer he needed. You hoped you were giving him the one he was looking for.

“Because a bad person would have forced me to share the bed with them. Would have yelled when I got confused, would have made me feel like it was my fault I forgot. You have been so kind, so patient. I know this is hard. A nightmare for you, but you never taken it out on me.” You reached up to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. 

Dick’s eyes filled with tears. He pulled you back against his chest, holding you so tight as if he was afraid you would disappear. “I love you,” he mumbled into your ear. Your heart fluttered, glowing warm. 

“I know.” You giggled when you felt a chuckle vibrate from his chest. 

“Aww,” Megan said, approaching you with her coat on and purse in hand. “You two are too cute.” 

Dick pulled away, taking his hand in yours. “Go have fun.” He kissed your forehead and squeezed your fingers. 

You smiled back at him before floating away to join Megan. 

“Grab my card. My wallet’s in our office,” Dick called out after you. You glanced at him over your shoulder. 

His eyes sparkled. You suddenly felt like you were the only person in the room, maybe the only one in the universe. His full attention on you in a way you never experienced before. 

Your parents were always focused on Wally or themselves. Aunt Iris was attentive, but she had Barry, Wally, and her work. Uncle Barry was the Flash, dividing more of his time. And Wally...he was Wally. Blind to a fault when he wanted to be.

But Dick...he seemed to only have eyes for you. You mattered to him in the best way. A priority instead of an afterthought. 

A little bud blossomed in your chest. You weren’t sure what it meant, but it felt warm.

“Ooo, so we can spend the big money?” Megan teased, bringing out of your head. You smiled at Dick, shaking your head as you walked back into the office to get the credit card.

***

Dick walked down into the cave beneath your house. The lights clicked on, triggered by motion. He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he sat down at the computer and turned it on.

The moment it turned on, the video chat app opened immediately. Bruce’s unmasked grim face made Dick’s heart sink. “Hello, couldn’t even wait until I had the computer all the way on,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

“Dick, I need (Y/N) to be checked by Zatanna and Martian Manhunter,” Bruce said, typing on his end. “I need to rule out a few suspects.”

Dick thought about the smile you had when you left with Megan. How you melted into his arms. A smile tugged on his lips. Bruce grunted. Dick looked back at him. “I’ll need to talk to her about it. She’s out with Megan.”

“Out?” Bruce frowned.

“They’re getting dinner and doing some shopping. (Y/N)’s clothes are getting too tight.” Dick crossed his arms. He tried to not get annoyed, but he was honestly feeling like he was still a teenager. “She knows how to call for help if anything happens. They’re in the safer part of town. It’s okay.”

“We still don’t know who did this and you left her exposed.” Bruce typed rapidly. “I’ll send someone to keep an eye on her from a distance.”

“No!” Dick stood up. Bruce froze, watching him blankly. “I trust her. She needs privacy and someone else to talk to that she knows. Megan and (Y/N) were on the same gymnastics team in college. It’s the first person she’s met that she remembers.” He decided he wouldn’t mention that you didn’t know Megan well at that point of your life, but still...it was someone who wasn’t a stranger.

Bruce shook his head. “Dick, I don’t think you are fully understanding what the risks could be here. Someone could be waiting to finish what they started.”

A lump formed in Dick’s throat. He hated Bruce’s paranoia, but...he was right. Your memory loss was too specific. Too suspicious. Dick hoped it wasn’t the case. “Fine, but they have to follow at a distance. (Y/N) and Megan can’t see them.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. 

“They will.” Bruce nodded. “Call me once you have talked to (Y/N).” He hung up. The screen returned to the desktop. The saver was you and Dick holding the first ultrasound picture. The baby was the size of a pinto bean. Dick sighed and spun on his heel. He couldn’t go on patrol until you were home, so a light workout was just what he needed.

***

You hummed to yourself, waving at Meg as she drove away. Bags were hooked over your arms as you juggled them to unlock the front door. You pushed it open with your hip. “I’m home,” you said loudly, noting the lights on in the living room.

“Hey.” Dick came around the corner with a big smile. He took your bags, leading you into the living room. “Did you have a good time?”

“Oh, I might have went overboard.” You laughed nervously, studying him for a reaction. However, Dick seemed unfazed as he set the bags on the coffee table. Maybe Meg was right? Money was no object. 

“As long as you had fun.” Dick kissed the top of your head.

“I brought you some food. I didn’t know if you ate already.” You handed him the takeout bag shyly. 

He hummed, peeking inside. “Yum, thanks.” He took a seat and dug into the bag to pull out the container. “Is this tacos from Beer and Tacos?”

“Yeah, Meg said it was a good place to eat.” You bit your lip, smiling as he dug in. You must have guessed right about what he would like.

He was on the couch. You debated taking a seat in the armchair, but it was far away from the bags you wanted to go through. Biting your lip, you slowly took a seat next to him. 

His knee brushed against yours. Your skin tingled at the touch. 

You dug into your first bag, pulling out the new clothes and folding them to be washed. He watched as he ate. “I like that blue shirt.”

“Thanks. It’s stretchy so it’s should grow with the baby.” You caught him blushing from the corner of your eye. “What?”

“Nothing.” He stuffed a taco in his mouth, puffing his cheeks out like a chipmunk. You shook your head and kept digging through the bags.

Dick finished his tacos once you got to the final bag. You pursed your lips, peeking inside. After getting clothes, Meg dragged you into the baby section.

A few things caught your eye, but...well you didn’t know what Dick would think.

“What’s that?” Dick asked. You flinched, almost dropping the bag. 

“Just...some things...for the baby.” Your face burned, but you willed yourself to reach inside. “Meg dragged me over there and they just put out a new line of baby clothes...”

You pulled out a Nightwing sleeper along with a Flash onesie. 

“I couldn’t resist and I thought you’d like the Nightwing one anyway,” you added quickly when Dick’s eyes widened. “I got the Flash one because it reminded me of Uncle Barry. It kinda matches his suit.”

Dick took the Nightwing sleeper, holding it up. He studied it before a goofy grin grew onto his lips. “Wow. It even has the finger stripes.”

You hummed, not knowing how to response otherwise. Megan had to tell you the sleeper was Nightwing’s suit. A sharp pang hit your heart.

“We’ll have to put these in the baby’s room for now.” Dick folded it up, still staring at it. He seemed particularly elated. Almost glowing with what seemed to be a mix of relief and joy. “Oh, yeah. I gotta buy the paint you picked for the room.”

You smiled, playing with the sleeve of the onesie. “Right, we should paint the room on our next day off.” You bit your lip. “When would that be?”

“The school is closed Mondays, but we usually take Tuesday off too.” Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was so warm. You couldn’t help, but lean into him slightly. “I was about to start that show everyone’s been talking about. What to join me?”

“Sure.” You glanced at him, blushing when you saw him smile. Your heart fluttered. His chiseled jaw. Starling blue eyes. Bluer than the sky. He shouldn’t be this handsome. You turned back to the tv as he turned on the show. His arm stayed around you.

Funny enough, it was the first moment ever since you woke up remembering nothing that you felt normal. Normal never made you feel so peaceful.

[jellymellydraws]

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Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 15 Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, two guarded people fall in love so hard it makes them stupid

Chapter Summary:

Astarion begs Rose to gossip about Gale's super secret but very obvious condition. She learns that the resident sassy elf might be starting some rumors about her promiscuity. Withers makes his services available, for a fee. With all their scouting and prep done, the whole camp marches towards the Selune Temple.

Whether it was foolishness, desperation, and a deliberate step towards openness: Gale revealed there was something going on with him. Eyes were on her as she departed from the wizard’s tent. The questions were clear on their faces, but she wasn’t going to be the one providing answers. They had to know that much, by now.

Rather than entertain their curiosities, she continued towards the command tent. Aside from distributing the magical items, she still had to prepare her own pack for their visit to the Selune Temple. Anything could happen once they arrived, and she was going to be prepared.

Goblins could be wielding more powerful weapons, or have new mastery of magic. Drow soldiers could be hiding within the shadows. Spiders as large as the arachnid matriarch could be lurking in the rafters. All of this was a possibility. Not to mention: surprises.

Detestable surprises.

Of course, hoping to do this prep in peace was as reasonable as hoping a fish could breathe air. She didn’t need to look up at the shadow which stalked over to her. She already knew who’d be ballsy enough to ask. Only one very nosy and gossip hungry elf: Astarion.

“We all saw that— you can’t honestly believe that you can pretend none of us saw that!”

“I can, and I will,” Rose couldn’t help the small smirk which snuck across her face.

Astarion didn’t understand the concept of ‘minding his own business.’ That was a cute little trick he pulled that morning— toying with his tone to imply he was being coy, stating he heard nothing but sounding like he did. His words spoke true, his tone tricked. 

Clever man. Too bad he sucked at committing to the act when very valuable information came to light. In this case, bright purple lights emanating from their wizard. But oh, his desperation to know what was going on was the sweet confirmation she was waiting for. He had absolutely no clue what happened between her and Gale that morning.

The elf wasn’t going to leave it alone. Not until he knew what the hells he saw. Even if that meant stalking after their leader while she meticulously prepared her pack for the rest of the day. She tried to feign her next steps a few times, looking one direction but turning towards another. He kept up with the fancy footwork, and somehow managed to keep up with her speed.

”Right outside his tent,” the elf continued, “what was that— he hugged the damned things and—“ he crouched next to Rose as she sifted through their potions crate. His voice suddenly hushed, “can he make our stuff more powerful?”

”Wouldn’t that be something?” She sassily answered, stowing a small healing potion in her pack and tying it closed.

“Do you know how useful that would be?”

“I do.” She stood up, turning towards the rest of the camp.

”You still aren’t going to spill, are you?”

”I’m not.”

She playfully bumped her good shoulder into his as she walked by him. He groaned with defeat.

But he continued to follow.

Alright, fine, she’ll give a little. What was a little fun before heading into uncertainty? 

Rose turned on her heel, arms crossed in front of her chest as she faced him. “How about a trade?”

Astarion’s brows raised, before a tempted smirk crossed his features, “A trade? For?”

“Information,” she offered, stepping closer to him as her words softened, “Gale said you have quite the imagination, I’m still intrigued: what exactly did you say to him this morning?”

“Oh, my dear,” his finger hooked beneath her chin, gently tilting her face towards him, hovering closer, “I just asked him if you left him satisfied with…” he pulled away with a devilish smirk, “whatever it was you two did in that tent.”

“Gods above,” she stared incredulously, “you asked him if he fucked me in there?!” 

He burst into laughter. She dragged her hand down her face, only briefly stopping to pinch the bridge of her nose. Her cheeks darkened and she could hear her blood rushing into her ears. This only made him laugh more boisterously. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one having fun, here? 

Mission: failed. Miserably. No— not miserably. 

Laughably.  

“You think I’d be so tactless as to ask outright?” He gasped, remembering to act scandalized once he regained control of his amusement, “Well, maybe I’d ask you, but Gale?! He’s much too, erm,” he circled his hand in the wizard’s direction, searching, but finding nothing but a frustrated tut, “he’s Gale. ” 

She knew she should’ve changed assignments. Of course she should’ve! She knew better— she knew Astarion better!

“But,” the elf continued, much to her delight, “if you weren’t having a quick one in there, what was all the sneaking for?”

”He entrusted me with a private, personal, matter,” she stated with finality, despite his pout. She rolled her eyes playfully towards him, “he’ll divulge the details when he’s ready. Or I’ll do it when I find it necessary for the camp to know.”

“I thought we had a trade,” he continued to poke his lips out, dramatizing his pouting.

”We did, and I kept my end of the bargain. We talked about something private, and I won’t share the specifics. That’s it.” She smirked at him, triumphantly. “Don’t sulk, I’d do the same for you.”

“Hm, I suppose you would ,” his tone shifted. Less playful. “Seems you owe it to me, afterall.”

”What is this about?” Her eyes narrowed warningly. Sounded like their fun was over. 

“Heeding your advice,” Astarion answered plainly, pretending to examine his nail beds, “something about favors?”

“Don’t underestimate the power of a favor owed,” the words felt like an echo as she recited them. 

“Yes, that was it,” he shifted his gaze towards her, lifting a brow at her cautionary expression, “at least you can remember some things.” He hissed his emphasis, not-so-subtly slicing with his words. 

“And what is it that I owe you for?” Her tone dropped out of its playful lilt in response. “Remind me.”

“Oh nothing much,” he began counting on his fingers, “just for keeping quiet about your quirky little bursts of murder. Or perhaps for being so discreet about your memory problems, especially considering how easily Lae’zel reaches for her blade. Oh, and you know, Shadowheart asked me about your scars— I kept that to myself too, in case you were concerned. Quite a debt you’re accumulating, it seems.”

Her eyes widened with disbelief. A speech given several nights ago, a mantra that came to her in the moment that she gave no thought towards. It meant more to him than she intended. He was keeping score in a game she had no intention of playing.

And yet, she had a finger on a piece, in need of completing her next move.

“The favors thing doesn’t apply to the camp,” she clarified.

“Sure it doesn’t!” He scoffed, throwing a hand up flippantly, “you just gave Gale whatever he asked for?”

”Yes!”

”Must not have been so important then, if he doesn’t need to pay you back.”

Her blood simmered as he glanced at her from behind his nose. Through her fury, she saw a slight smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. 

No. No, he would not trick her into whatever the hells he wanted. Whatever outburst he hoped to pull from her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

”I’m not falling for this,” she finally managed after taking a controlled breath, “I’m not going to tell you what he wanted. I’m not going to tell you what that magical light show was about. I’m not going to tell you anything.”

”And why’s that?” His red eyes burned towards her. The creases of a scowl began to form.

“Because I take care of my team,” she articulated slowly, “no favors required. If you need anything Astarion, I’ve got you; just ask and I’ll see what I can do.”

He stared at her, brows furrowed. Examining her face for traces of a lie, of deceit, of trickery. “Just ask ? Just like that?”

She nodded, “just like that. Exactly like how we got you that violin. If it’s that hard to believe that I’m a woman of my word, that’s your problem. Not mine.”

Waves of expressions washed over his face like phases of the moon. Everything from doubt to relief to disbelief flashed over him. Watching him closely, she was just realizing how weary he looked. Bags had begun forming under his eyes, which in turn made her see how pallor his face was. In short, he looked like hells.

Her eyes couldn’t help but soften. She released another heavy sigh, running a hand through her violet locks as she pushed back her frustration.

“Astarion,” she met his gaze, sincerely, “if you need the score to be settled, we’ll go over who owes whom later. I have to focus on our mission right now.” 

He said nothing as she left towards the edge of camp to finalize prep for the afternoon.

The living corpse marked an open scroll with a quill that never needed to be dipped in ink. No one knew where he found such a thing. He muttered in a voice that forever carried from the beyond, faintly echoing at the end of his words.

“Withers,” Rose announced herself as she approached. He didn’t move his eyes from his task. Frustrating as it was, she became accustomed to it. At least, in some capacity, she knew he was listening. “We’ll be departing soon, can you handle watching over the camp?”

“I shall be here in thy camp, for whenever thou hast need of my services.” A practiced response. 

If his voice didn't hint at his age, his manner of speech could make it obvious. She was sure it was in the range of twenty years to twenty centuries. 

“Services like....watching over the camp?” She pressed, somewhat sarcastically.

But, to be fair...would he actually do that? Someone was ALWAYS back at camp to keep watch, never just Withers. For the most part, he might as well not be there. He haunted the outermost edge of their camp, hardly said a word, and hardly made a sound. If no one else saw him, she’d be convinced it was her mind playing tricks.

There was still time for that. Best not to get too sarcastic, unless she wants to accidentally curse herself further.

Finally, he paused his scribbling. His next line of thought needed his full attention and effort, it seemed.

“A mending of threads between life and death.” He lowered the scroll, eyeing her dully, “that is what I can offer.”

Her brow raised, intrigued, “go on.”

“For a pittance of coin: should thou or any of why compatriots perish, I will cleave soul to body once more.”

Both brows raised. “How much?”

“200 pieces of gold.”

Her eyes would've popped out of her head, had they not been firmly tethered to her skull. Suddenly the price of Astarion's violin felt like copper pieces by comparison. Gods, they haven't even been to a proper storefront! Where in the hell's would they get that amount to do coin?!

This was a joke, right?

It had to be?

This was Withers they were talking about-- where the hell would he even spend that money?!

...this was Withers she was talking to. No, this wasn't a joke.

No, he probably wouldn't answer where the money would go.

“Huh, well...that’s,” she adjusted her stance, trying to make light of the price. “That’s a pittance of an assassin’s contract.”

“I know.”

She shifted her weight again, chewing her lip as she stared at the living corpse. She took a quick glance around, making sure the coast was clear before lowering her voice, “do you know anything about me; my bloodlust?”

“Yes.”

“Keep talking,” she demanded.

“For a pittance of coin--”

“How much?”

“--should thou or any of thy compatriots perish--”

“You already said that--”

“I will cleave body and--”

“Withers.”

Uninterrupted by her attempts to disrupt him, unphased by her frustration, he continued. As she rubbed her temples, a dull thudding started to come on as he completed his speech.

“Are you going to charge me,” she quickly interjected, before he could start another rehearsed line, “if I ask you to watch over the camp?”

“No.”

“Okay,” she sighed with relief. “One last thing, then: if the owlbear shows up, give it some food.” She pulled a small parcel from her pack, passing it along to the animated undead being. 

Wrapped carefully in a piece of torn cloth, were pieces of meat that had been dried overnight while traveling. Some of the last pieces of meat that she had for herself, but untouched. Withers held the package with an open palm, as if he collected payment from her. He said nothing. 

“Well then. That's that.” Rose turned on her heel, ending the interaction on her own terms (seeing as the skeleton wasn’t going to). From her pouch, she removed her journal and a piece of charcoal, opening to a fresh page towards the back, “I guess we’ll…” she muttered as she scribbled words to the page, “start a revival fund…”

The entirety of the camp marched their way through the destroyed village. With their reputation of being True Souls, the guards were eager to ask Rose if she needed anything.

An escort. They needed an escort.

Utilizing one of the goblins, they were able to walk by the guard post with ease. The power of their status continued to intrigue Rose.  A thrill ran through her veins with every passing acknowledgement. ‘Yes True Soul,’ ‘right this way, True Soul,’ ‘the temple is just up ahead, True Soul.’

Very few people would question their reasons for being there, none dared to ask. She could get used to this.

Once they were beyond the guard post, their escort was dismissed and free to return to their position by the village.

”Here we go,” Shadowheart sighed, “walking right into a goblin camp. Most would think we’re insane.”

”Aren’t we?” Astarion hummed with a smirk.

”Speak for yourself.”

Rose couldn’t help but shake her head at the banter behind her. They approached the wooden bridge, leading to a stone entrance that was dirtied over time. Statues of similar form to those in the village guarded each side, both in various states of destruction. The bridge was decorated with spike traps, and whatever railing existed had been torn from their posts.

From the looks of it, the goblins were prepared to destroy this bridge, if they needed to. Her eyes scanned along the top of the wall, looking for signs of guards and other goblins who they needed to be wary of. No one watched atop the walls, despite the bits of activity she saw beyond the doorway. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Rose asked Alfira, who stood beside her clutching the lute in her hands. The bard hadn’t said a word as they got closer, and most of the color drained from her face now that they were mere steps away from the heart of the nest.

“I have to be, right?” She tried to chuckle, weakly. 

As they approached the bridge, their footsteps began to feel heavier. Rose’s heart thundered in her chest, the hairs on her arms began to raise. Reflexively, she grabbed Alfira’s arm, stopping immediately.

“What’s wrong?” The tiefling asked, looking around with caution.

“Hear my Voice,” a feminine voice spoke calmly, steadily. “Obey my command.”

“Shit!” Rose fell to her knees, head aching to the point of her vision blurring.

“Is it the tadpoles again?!” Alfira’s voice started to sound distant.

The others behind her were all brought to the ground, straining to get up or even move.

Then everything went dark.

“These are my Chosen,” the voice continued, echoing around her. “They speak for me.”

A soft light forced her vision to focus on three figures before her. Her chest tightened. Fists clenched. Blood boiled. The longer she stared, the louder her head pounded.

An old hardy elf stood at the front of their formation, looking down at her with an unfeeling expression. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel he was annoyed by her. Disgusted. He wore heavy armor, carrying himself like a commander would. But the voice she heard in her head was feminine, it did not fit this man. His chest piece was illuminated by a colored gem.

Behind the elf was a human man wearing a draped coat adorned in gilded thread. He did not look as old as the elf, but his face was aged by a lifetime of troubles. She saw it in the creases of his brow, the tiredness in his eyes. Old enough to be tired, but young enough to have fire. His smile was easy, sleazy, but oh so charming in a dangerous way. Arrogance oozed from his stance as he looked at her with a cocked brow. Intrigue. Curiosity. Another pang in her chest, joined by a sickly turning in her stomach at the sight of him. She wanted to scream. She couldn’t. Embedded in his shimmering gauntlet was another gem, much like the elf’s, which softly illuminated his features as it glowed.

Opposite of the human was another elven woman-- elven-like, more precisely. Pale was the only descriptor appropriate for her. Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes. Pale like the corpse she deserved to be . Rose clenched her jaw. The desire to drown this woman in her own blood grew. How beautiful she would be, a blank canvas covered in red. The woman’s grin appeared to grow, burning down onto Rose. Taunting her. She was frozen in her stance, licking the curve of a red blade, which glowed with another gem centered in its hilt. Rose reached towards the blade, but the weight of darkness forced her hand to the ground.

The voice continued.

“Aid them, and you will be worthy to stand beside them. In my presence.”

It was tempting. Delicious. 

Power.

Authority.

Next Chapter >>

[theworldisyonces]

JAY-Z at the Brooklyn Public Library’s "The Book of HOV” exhibition, the day before it opened to the public. The exhibition is a celebration of JAY-Z’s unparalleled body of work. The exhibition is a 40,000-square-foot exhibit at the Brooklyn Public Library crafted in collaboration with Roc Nation. The free exhibit makes full use of the library’s expansive Grand Army Plaza branch, with the front of the institution wrapped with his lyrics, a Jazz Grant-crafted mural in the building’s atrium, and six “zones” dedicated to the music icon’s career and legacy. It is also 20 years of his Shawn Carter Foundation. This is cool, so apparently, Beyoncé and JAY-Z didn’t know anything about this until the day before. It was kept a secret from them. I know Jay felt so overwhelmed with joy. And I just know Beyoncé is so proud of him. Just imagine seeing your whole career displayed out for the public to see and admire. What an accomplishment. 🙌🏽 (7/13/23)

[e17omm]

So a little funfact about Snippets, but I always imagined the Void Herrscher Wings to be yellow/golden like HoV has in-game. So I just mentally saw Snippets Sirin as having the same golden Herrscher wings.

Buuut fanarts of Snippets Sirin drew her with purple Herrscher Wings. So she has purple Herrscher Wings now.

Also new chapter tomorrow.

[mobiuslab]

We all know how much MHY loves dual personalities. Kiana and HoV, Seele and "Seele", Fu Hua and Senti, Ei and the Shogun, etc. Now, imagine a Kafka who's really gentle and timid and has to use her Spirit Whisper on herself to become the smug and self-confident space criminal we all know. Maybe that's why her eyes are different sometimes, entranced vs lucid. What if the real Kafka was just a big softie, who couldn't bear the thought of erasing all the memories of a dear companion and leaving them behind, so she has to steel her resolve by using her autosuggestion powers on herself? And she let the Trailblazer keep memories of her not to control them or because it was part of Elio's plan, but simply because being forgotten by the Trailblazer would have been too painful, so painful, that Kafka couldn't even erase those memories while under the effects of her Spirit Whisper.

[godisasimp]

The lack of HoV emotes on HoYoLab is both concerning and making me want to do some

[inferusrf]

imagining a scenario where I drop Space Colony AU Kiana into main universe without her eye contacts, thus yellow eyes, and everyone just jumps her because they think she's HoV

[herrscherofmagic]

i've spent nearly 47 hours over the last ten days drawing nothing but kiana (and hov)

yeah.

anyways, since I've had about enough of drawing Kiana for the rest of my life (/hj) I'm gonna put a pause on this project; but I'll turn it from a sprint into a marathon and try and work on it occasionally instead of all at once

I want to draw other things again x-x

Close-ups of the drawings below, as well as the reference image set, and some other misc. thoughts

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Portraits drawn from imagination

Started the process by trying to draw Kiana's head from imagination; then after each drawing I'd pause, look at some references, see what mistakes I made, then put away the references and drew from imagination (and referring to previous drawings) again. I also took breaks at two points to practice drawing eyes & hair before going back to drawing Kiana

For the last 4 portraits, I'd draw a head from imagination as a warm-up to a drawing session, and then do another head much later on instead of doing it immediately. Around halfway through this "phase" I started the other phases at random points, and finished this portion of the process in the first ~10-15 hours of drawing time. The rest of the time was split across the other exercises

Also I gave her an angry expression because I felt it was the easiest for me to do from memory since I've drawn HoV more than just "Kiana" herself. I also used a boring level 3/4 view without much perspective because it forced me to really make sure I was doing everything accurately and with care.

Basically my thinking was that if I could make a boring level 3/4 portrait look good enough, then I'd have no trouble getting it to look good in other perspectives. That seemed to be true when I got to the stage where I was doing expression practice and had to deal with more head tilt and other perspectives, lol

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Studies of still images from screenshots of gameplay, character art, and stills from animated shorts

Did rough sketches first, then drew with solid color over the sketches on a separate layer. not much else to say here, lol

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Full-bodies

Started with an anatomy model loosely based on the proportions of Kiana's in-game model, and then two attempts at doing full-body drawings from imagination before realizing that it's bloody insane to try and do that much detail from imagination and I have much better things to do with my life than that x-x

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Color studies

yaaaay color! yippee!

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Action sketches/"gesture" drawings

"Gesture" is in quotes because I was way too slow with these for it to really count as proper gesture drawing, imo. But the intention was to start with gesture, and I got closer to that as I went on.

It's way too tempting to start adding detail so I had to metaphysically slap myself with a frying pan to keep myself from getting derailed by that >.>

To get references for this, I did screen recording of gameplay on the PC with OBS studios, then used DaVinci Resolve to play back the recordings.

On PC, when using the mouse controls you can hold the camera fairly still when doing an attack sequence, making it awesome for getting unique angles. For instance, when I recorded Void Drifter's attacks, I was able to get at least 4 different PoVs of her attacks: from the left, the right, behind & above, and in front & below.

Unfortunately, though, it was a bit of a hassle to get good recordings because I had to go into an actual combat stage to record it instead of being able to use an empty testing stage.

With DaVinci Resolve I could "split" clips to make cuts in the timeline that let me easily mark the spots where different attack sequences started, and I could also easily play it in .5x speed to help me figure out how the animations were going from one set of frames to another.

Plus if you close the program after saving, when you open it up again it remembers which frame you were last on and takes you straight there, making it easy to continue from one day to another.

I used White Comet, Herrscher of the Void, and Void Drifter attack animations here, but I also did recordings of Knight Moonbeam and Herrscher of Flamescion, and I might give those a try someday.

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Facial expressions practice

Started with the set of rough sketches (first image), then did some expression practice from imagination (second and third images) to try and get used to how the proportions of the face change slightly with movement of the eyebrows/eyelids/jaw, since the shape of the eyes and mouth is especially important when doing stylized faces (like the anime style that HI3rd uses)

Then this morning I started working through the original rough sketches and developing them one-by-one, getting through 8 before I decided to call it quits and wrap up the project for now

So the facial expression practice pretty much the culmination of all my practice. All the practice with proportions, the contours & forms of the hair, monochromatic shading, line quality, shape design, etc.

This was also one of the few times I've ever taken stylized references and actually adapted them to some extent instead of directly copying them!

This is especially noticeable in the hair, where I used a more standard style for the hair, in contrast with the variety of hairstyles and shapes used in the various manga references (i.e. black-and-white Escape from Nagazora Kiana's messy hair vs the neat and solid hair in the colored Gratitude Arc, AE Invasion, and Moon Shadow Kiana)

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Reference images

[genshinarchives]

So I recently fell down the Honkai rabbit pit hole…and whenever I see god/goddess mc I always imagine them to look something like HoV from Honkai idk why 😭

Tbh she does look like a divine being who can and will fuck my life over in a millisecond

[riaki]

i was just minding my own business brainstorming ideas when i realized. just how similar gojo/megumi’s stories are to kiana/himeko’s from hi3…. spoilers under the cut

LIKE. KIANA HAS HOV FOR A WHILE IN HER BODY WHO ENDS UP KILLING HIMEKO… and gojo died when sukuna took over megumi’s body bye

the mentor relationship similarity is absolutely destroying me IMAGINE IF MEGUMI HAS TO GO THROUGH WHAT KIANA WENT THROUGH AFTER THAG JAPPENED i’d cry. please please don’t let gumi feel ostracized and guilty for just existing PLEASE

[bagel-boy-sama]

Imagine we get playable Sirin in starrail and she's not HoV she's just happy and good and Bella is still alive and Sirin is similar to k423 and she can have a happy fucking life for once please please please please

[e17omm]

how do you think hi3 would’ve changed it cecilia had survived instead of siegfried?

Either wouldnt have discovered the K-series of clones, or having been talked into allowing it to happen, or she wouldve gone to Otto to ask for answers when she did find out about it.

I dont think she would have broken in, rescued K-423, and then deserted from Schicksal.

If we go the fanfic route with it, perhaps she could talk Otto into getting K-423 to raise her to be kind. In ways, K-423 is Sirin's second chance at life. I can imagine Cecilia would beat HoV when she awakens, but treat her lovingly like she did with Sirin.

Then Cecilia, Kiana and K-423 probably would have stayed and grown up at Schicksal HQ, becoming Schicksal Valkyries from the get-go.

Without Siegfried running away with K-423, Valkyries wouldnt have to be sent out to search for him, so Ragna wouldn't be killed and Himeko would have stayed in Squad V. And if K-423/HoV grew up to not hate everything (at least for HoV) then Otto likely wouldnt need to awaken HoV and the whole mess of Final Lesson to happen. I dont think he'd kill Cecilia to have K-423 fight HoV. That doesnt really make sense if Cecilia raised them, they'd just both turn on Otto instead.

Possibility of K-423 and HoV to get on okayish terms, but that depends how much HoV wants to destroy humanity. She could be anywhere from constantly trying to take control, to being more like Seele and Veliona.