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eternalstrigoii · 4 years

Text

With Someone Like You

A Not-Sequel to Bittersweet Platonic! Diaval + Desert Dark Fey Reader; Platonic! Conall + Reader; Borra x Reader

“Will you tell me about him? Conall?”

Your mouth quirked. There was a little, rueful part of you that imagined you would never hear his name on the lips of the moor-folk, of which Diaval was included. She had only known him a handful of days, though they were certainly extraordinary ones.

“He was kind,” you began, for that was the place you ought to. “Selfless. Generous, and truly, unmistakably good. When they shot him, it was as though they’d torn the collective heart from our chests.” You were not shy toward pain, and not only the physical – there was only one raw spot upon your heart that you treated tenderly; the rest were metaphorically thumbed, handled until callouses built over the wounds to soften their blow. “He was about Borra’s size, but a bit bigger. Himself, not his wings; forest wings are shorter.” You imagined that he’d noticed, though he had not said so; he saw you, and his mate, often enough to make the distinction. “Eyes the green of spring. Brighter than hers.” You mimed the shape of his horns when you could not put their proper arrangement into words; told him, in no uncertain terms, of Conall’s power and his grace. His physical beauty and the well-beloved warmth of his heart.

The raven wandered the moors at your side, deftly crossing over streams with little more than a short leap. He listened without interrupting, his face nearly unreadable, though the darkness of his eyes offered plenty of emotion.

“He loved her, you know. He could have done a hundred different things to protect her, and yet his instinct was to shield her with himself.” He had always been selfless, and he had always been good; losing him was the only other wound that had not yet fully healed, for the depth and the profundity of that loss still tore you up when you acknowledged it. She had known him for a handful of extraordinary days; you had fledged with him.

“I know,” Diaval replied. “Sometimes she says his name in her sleep.”

You set your teeth and made a sound like laughter with your breath; she was not the only one.

You were an orphan, once. All people become orphans eventually, but your parents were taken from you well before their time. Udo was still young, then, not yet the surrogate nest-mother that you knew, and so you remained where you had been raised with your last surviving brother, tended by the collective care of your people, and, oftentimes, also Selene.

Selene was Conall’s mother, though you were young enough to also consider her your own. She was the one who corralled you when you had not been preened, settled you in her arms and sang to you while she washed the dust and bracken from your hair and your feathers. There had been a pack of you, in those days; feral children taking flight throughout the Nest in her entirety. Whether or not you had parents to return to had not mattered, the Nest was different in those days – there were more elders, more children, and the migrations had not yet stopped.

Conall was your leader, for he was a year and some ahead of the rest of you. If you remembered correctly, for it had been an age since you thought of it last, Borra was something like seven months ahead of you, and Ini a year and two behind. There were others, of course; people you knew and could name but were no longer as close with.

You remembered traipsing along the edge of the jungle not too much unlike the way you did the moors, now. Settling in borrowed hammocks in the high trees, feasting on absurd amounts of fruit. Though you’d always had the penchant for sweets, Conall was the one who found the fullest trees. The group of you lay together in a heap, weighing down the woven boughs, and ate yourselves sticky as though Selene would not come fetch you and make you all bathe like it would teach any of you shame.

The lot of you were thick as thieves, and you recalled the bright glimmer of your nearly-brother’s eyes when his mother oversaw your scrubbing – your collective had done it before and would do it again, and no punishment could fracture your camaraderie.

Not even when the migrations stopped.

When your mother was murdered, two of your brothers were slain with her; the eldest was twice your age, still a child in the most painful sense. Nearly the whole of your family was taken in one blow; had you and your brother not been swept from the sea by another of the deserts’ communal hunting party (for large game could not thrive in captivity the way rabbits could, and rabbits only offered so much meat), you all would have perished.

And yet, the news of your elders’ belief that all migrations had come to an end was the first time you recognized true fear in yourself, as well as your companions. You were older, then; you sat before your own fire like a council of your own and listened to the still-boys rehash what they had heard from their parents.

“Migrations can take months,” Conall explained to your collective. “But there have not been any in so long, our people believe we are all that’s left.”

“What does that mean?” Ini asked. She was the youngest of you, and had no shame in being so; though her hands enwrapped your wrist, you would never have dreamed of pushing her away.

“It means humans killed the rest of us,” Borra replied. “They’ve killed my mother, Conall’s father, both of Suren’s parents and two of her brothers, and now they’ve killed everyone else who isn’t here.”

He had not mean to strike you all silent, but he had. You were still children, and the gravity of your situation was not supposed to be so obvious; it was a game, was it not? Like playing Defeat The Human Army, smacking at one another with felled branches and pretending they were iron swords.

It would have been different if Conall protested, but he did not. His bright eyes settled upon you where you sat, holding Ini’s hands, and he nodded. “That is what my mother thinks.”

You swallowed back a lump that was equal parts terror and grief. Another of the boys of your group dissolved into sobbing, and the rest of you sat there, still and silent, struggling to understand.

“We are all that’s left,” Conall said. He was not yet old enough to soften the gravity of his voice. “Our parents, our friends, and us. There are no others.”

“That can’t be,” you whispered. “There are so many of us. Everywhere. We…” You had never noticed the migrations, really. Groups of people arrived at random, refugees returning to their ancestral home. You had met many other children that way, and, though their parents were eager to try to merge them with the existing young, there was something different in the way they moved. A heaviness that you had not yet understood. “They cannot do this to us.”

“They always have.” Borra’s voice was more gentle than you thought it would be. He knew he’d frightened you, and that was not what this was meant to be – you had to make sense of this together, as it should be. “My father told me of your mother. They called her the Immortal. They said no human could slay her; that she carried blades forged from the ribs of the men that killed her parents and the men who your father. That she ripped pieces from their banners and wove them into a sash.”

You did not remember her that way. You had few memories of her at all, then, but the one that survived – that stayed with you always – was of a violent storm. You heard the crash of thunder like you never had before; there were other children crying out throughout the Nest. The lightning flashed so brightly that the desert was illuminated more fiercely than it was during the days of bright sun filtered through the high peaks. You and all three of your brothers had joined her in her bed, and she’d heaped the hides on top of the lot of you, settled you against her chest and sang to you in a hushed, sleep-roughened voice. Words in a language you did not know; words that her mother sang to her once upon a time before the Shrublands burned at mortal hands.

“They still killed her,” he said, like that was an adequate conclusion. “And my mother. And they will do it again.”

You were all children, and you were all afraid. You looked to Conall for guidance, as he was the eldest of you, though no older than your own blood-brother.

“We will protect each other,” he said, as though it would be so easy.

But you were children. The abridged version of the world was all you knew, and so you believed it would be. You believed that you could – that you would, always, without fail, and that you would never falter.

“Come.” He drew closer to the rest of you in the half-circle that you sat in. You were all socialized well to bonfires, to gathering with your parents and dancing pell-mell as though you did not know what you were supposed to be doing.

This was different. He held out his hands to all of you, and, since there were more of you than he had hands, Borra took one and someone else took the other; you took Borra’s, and Ini’s, and Ini, someone else’s, in a chain that linked the entirety of you to one another.

“We will protect one another,” Conall said again. There was such certainty in his voice that you never would have doubted him or his abilities for a moment. “Always.”

“Always,” you echoed with all the rest.

“What if we can’t?” someone asked, as though it could not remain unspoken.

Conall looked them in the eyes (though you did not remember who had asked, you remembered, vividly, the look upon his boyish face when he levied his bright eyes upon them). “Always.”

Some part of you remembered the lash of iron around your wrists.

Fear choked the breath from your lungs. The only thing you could cry was your brother’s name, though he could not help you – the human hunting party loosed an arrow upon him. Shot him in the chest. You could see him from where you landed, the dark blood that came, steadily, over his lips.

Your mother was slaughtered in the mountains. You knew this, and yet it was there you had both gone – to fetch mullein for the healer’s nest, as well as catch game, forage roots. You’d come with several empty rucksacks and intended to fill them all. You were at the cusp of your fledge-hood, still a girl, not yet a woman, but the hunting party’s leader descended from his horse with a gaze that you had seen countless times in the fox that led you to the hidden warren.

“Hold it down.”

He was fair-haired and, you imagined, fully grown, for he was nearly as large as some of the men you knew.

Your struggling resumed anew. Two of his men still held the thin, woven iron ropes that scorched your ankles, and another two moved for your hands. You swiped at them, pulled your body along the ridge with all your might. They were dismounted from their horses, and even when they dug in their heels, they could not fully hold you in place.

“Are there more like it?” he asked one of the men, and you did not hear the response. They dropped the loop of an iron rope and you had not been able to pull your hand back in time; one wrist was caught. You shrieked at the top of your lungs, fought with the whole of your strength. Fury and fear swirled violently inside of you – harsh, vehement no mixed with strangled, begging please!

“Hold it down,” he repeated. You would not see that same manner of cold glimmer in human eyes until you reached the shores of Ulstead. “I want to watch it struggle.”

Your left wrist wore fainter marks then the rest because of how little time the iron burned there. The last bond was slipped around it; your eyes welled and your throat was raw from screaming, but you had done it again.

And you were not the only one.

Borra’s wings cut through the air more audibly than a sword’s blade. His talons rent flesh; he lifted the man who intended to hurt you, swept him clearly off the ground and twisted them where they’d landed in his chest.

Blood rushed from the human in a brighter shade than it did from your brother. When he hit the ground, he was already struggling for breath.

You fought for your life, for you knew you must. You fought to keep them from donning their weapons, though there were only four of them and two of you and they no longer had the element of surprise.

You knew him. You had always loved him in some way, for he had always been your friend. You were not surprised by the violence that came from him, or the violence that rose in you in return. When he swept two men away, you handled the last – the burning of your flesh spurred you on. You were not cruel, you did not make them suffer, but you did take their lives, and you did rush to pull the lashes from your limbs.

You did cry when they were gone.

He gathered you close against him, cradled your raw wrist. “Are you alright?”

You could not respond. No, you were not – you were hurt and scared and your brother was dead and you would have been, too, if not for him. You wept harder than you had in an age, your wings folding as tightly against your back as your body would physically allow, and you pressed yourself into him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe, now.”

You were not, but you did not know that, when you left. You stumbled to the cliffs with him with your eyes still blurry and pain still jolting through your limbs. You did not realize that he heard other horses, knew that other men would join this group, and that there was no time to ensure your safety and gather your brother’s body to return to the Phoenix.

He did not realize what would come of leaving it behind, or the woven rucksacks that adorned it. You did not realize, still, that it had been an exchange of a brother for a brother, or that it would be an adequate excuse for a mortal princess to become a terrible queen.

That was the first time you did not go to Selene with your troubles, for Borra could handle them just fine. You wept until you hiccupped; wiped your traitor eyes on your arm while he slit the sides of spiny aloe to peel out the leafy innards, which he would use as a bandage for your wounds.

“Suren,” he said, as gentle as you knew him to be. Never would you have believed that anyone could see differently than you did. “Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. He had not given the human the chance, and, for that, you were exceptionally grateful.

“Try to hold still. Don’t hold your breath.”

You’d had to force yourself not to, when the aloe was smeared across your raw flesh. The pain was so intense that it made you shake, for most of your wounds were deep. He dressed them carefully, tried to ease your pain with a dust of powdered willow, and then wrapped the long, translucent strips of aloe-bandages around them.

He was nearly done when Conall arrived. Word had reached the others of your brother’s passing in the worst way; he, who fledged with you, who was nearly your brother in all ways, had known Borra would follow you when you left. It was not intended to be a safety-measure; they were even closer than they were with the rest of you, and Conall had known of his intentions to attempt to court you for some time.

It was not supposed to involve saving your life. Dressing your wounds, afterward.

You were not the one who told him what happened in the mountains, nor was it repeated in front of you so soon. You were all still young, then, and peace was not yet an option.

Conall perched beside you on the edge of your nest and drew you close – enwrapped you in both his arm and his wing.

You were nestled in Borra’s arms when you felt the softest touch upon the union of his hand with your forearm. You shifted instinctively, curling closer to him under the pile of fur and hide that blocked out the chill of the desert nights.

“There is a barrier around the moors,” Conall whispered, rather close to you both.

You stirred together. Let the sleep leave you in full so the words could set in; you scrubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms while Borra asked, “What manner of barrier? More than the stone border?”

“A wall of thorns as high as the peaks.”

You both paused. In the darkness of your stony nest, you could not believe that Conall – graceful as a passing cloud, gracious as the river in spring – could ever do such a thing.

“No one from the Nest created it.” He sat back on his haunches to ensure you both met his eyes. “I swear upon the Phoenix.”

You both shed your blankets and re-donned your armor. He had not asked you to come, to prepare for whatever could be out there, but you did. You had to. Some part of you was still as eager as a child, still as hopeful toward the prospect that your people were not dwindling – perhaps, by some miracle, someone else in the vastness of the world beyond had survived.

“Could it be a migration?” Borra asked, already dressed while you still fussed with your leather straps.

“I did not see anyone. I did not get close – there are men at the borders. If the moorlands themselves have created it together—”

“Then we have to help them,” you whispered. In the cold and the black of the night, with only the three of you, that did not seem like a feat you could accomplish. Dressed though you were, hopeful as you might be, it was in your best interest to hesitate. You knew, without question, that other fey lived on the moors; that was why you did not take from them. You imagined they would be imperiled by the humans that surrounded them on all sides, and your peoples’ hunting parties were never big enough to properly combat an enemy as you imagined they already must.

You had imagined correctly, then. If they were strong enough to raise a wall of thorns, then they were strong enough to fend for themselves, and you were glad for them.

“We will see it,” Conall agreed. “And we will return to plan from there.”

It would have been a sound plan, had unspoken hope not lingered between you. Te Tue of the Cloudless Sun spoke often of what would happen when your people could no longer sustain themselves – whether you were forcibly cut off from the outside world, your numbers grew too large for the Nest or too few to continue, your people had gone from reverence and respect to hiding away in a cave. Generations ago, there had been peace – there had been a future as bright and as eternal as the Phoenix’s still-smoldering bones.

Hope was all you had left, as a collective. Hope that something would come – some great war or some great plague, perhaps a famine, something that would destroy enough of mankind that you could reclaim the skies again. Rip the iron from their hands, shove it back within the earth, take back what had been stolen from you.

But when you flew, all you saw were thorns and darkness.

The men at the border retreated before you’d come. Their horses’ hoof-prints were still visible in the soft earth; the places in the grass where their heavy boots had sunk. Borra crouched near them, studied them while you, in turn, studied the thorns.

You did not know if you could even truly call them thorns, for they were massive. They were like spears, and sharp as nettle. You touched your finger to one and recoiled fast; blood welled at even the lightest touch.

“Could little faeries do this?” You stuck your finger in your mouth and kept your tongue against it until the bleeding stopped.

“I don’t know,” Conall admitted. “This was not here last night.”

“You’ve kept watch over the sea for two nights?” Borra asked, the disapproval in his voice unhidden.

“I am restless,” he admitted. “One can only endure so much waiting.”

You heard something, quick and faint. You touched the ridged flesh of his arm – for he had been victim to nearly as many close-shots as the both of you – and Borra straightened quickly. You fell in together, as you always had; gave one another your backs with no gaps in cover. You listened for a moment before the anxiety that gripped you became less of a feeling and more of a physical presence.

“Go,” Conall whispered, and the three of you took off from that same, fixed place – so quickly that the trees rustled all around where you had stood; so suddenly that you barely noticed the large, dark creature that barreled toward where you had been, like some great, black dog.

You did not plan when you returned. You did not plan to hold council, either, though you knew you must. The three of you went home to his mother like you would’ve when you were children, and you sat together at the dying bonfire not far beyond Selene’s nest.

“If it is a migration,” Borra began, though he paused to rub his eyes before continuing, “they may not know how close they are.”

“They may have settled where they saw fey,” you agreed.

A heavy silence settled over your collective. Where they saw fey implied there were places they did not possess any, and that those places existed in abundance. You rubbed your eyes, also, and fought to remember if your mother had ever told you of fey in the Shrublands where she’d grown. Had she ever told you? Or, like all but the memory of her holding you in the storm, had the whole of your people slipped through your fingers like sand?

“It could be the moor-folk.” Conall settled back against one of the felled log benches around the forest’s fire. “Their conflicts could have escalated.”

“We’ll have to go during the day,” you muttered, though you knew how horrible a prospect that was – the last time your people departed during the day, you were nearly killed. Your brother was, and it was as though his death inspired the Nest as a whole to stop venturing out when the sun was high – not unless someone meant to sit in the peaks just beyond and watch the sea for ships.

“We will not,” Conall replied. “Migration or no migration, it is not worth it. We will not go during the day.”

You were both silent. The fire had nearly burned out, and you did not intend to go curl up with Selene in her nest, though some part of you still desired to. You were a grown woman, now; fully fledged. You did not need your second mother to hold your hand when you could rely on your mate, your partner in all ways, to plot and plan and save you.

“Swear to me,” Conall said, just as he had when you were children. “You will both swear to me that you will not go during the day.”

“I swear to you,” you said, nearly automatically, for Conall was nearly your brother and you had fledged with him. You loved him, and you were tired and disheartened by everything you had not seen.

Borra said nothing for a moment longer, but he was outnumbered. He sighed deeply and laid back his head. “I swear.”

Your mutual vows changed when he saw her.

It had changed before then – he already wanted peace, and you were not at liberty to tell Diaval why – but it, the whole circumstance around that peace, around that nagging, persistent hope you’d all possessed for your future, changed when he saw her for the first time.

He kept his word to you as you had to him. He did not venture out into their world during the day, but he checked on the wall of thorns. He wanted to know what they were, why they were – why they had risen, and, eventually, why they crumbled.

You were right, in the end, in some way – though you did not know if that was precisely why her parents settled on the moors, the thorns-walls had risen because one of your kind willed them to. You could not believe that she had always been there, within reach but always out of sight, and you did not understand why she had gone where she had come from – why she stunk of human beyond the crispness of the ocean-brine.

You had found out, of course; you and Borra both broke dawn curfew in order to. You were out half the night and then half the afternoon with only that council meeting in between – it was a necessity, thanks to her. The migrations were over; she was all that was left. Perhaps. She must’ve been, but no one was certain.

Conall answered everything she asked. He was her companion and her friend as he had been yours – all of yours – though, with her, it was different.

He did not look at anyone the way he looked at her.

“Our ways are not human ways; he did not revere her because of her gifts.” You had settled with Diaval in a field that was no longer under mortal command; your wings stretched out alongside you, flattened swaths of purple prairie-clover so you could bask in the sun amid the high bodies of feral sunflowers and wild, seven-headed daisies. “Though our people can, and frequently, intermarry, there is little as satisfying as pairing off with someone like you.”

This was not the conclusion the raven wanted. Of that, you were painfully aware, but it was what you had to say, and so you said it.

“There was never a time when Borra and I did not belong to one another. With him, I do not have to compromise; I do not have to explain my needs, though it would take very little explaining with another of our own.” You touched him unlike anyone else would know they needed to; you kneaded the tension out of him, as the strength of his muscles and the stone-toughness of his skin meant anything lighter would only be sentiment. You knew that the leaf of his ear was strangely sensitive, and if you wanted him to come to bed, all you needed to do was ghost your lips over it. “I imagine it’s much the same for you.”

He did not expect you to say that. He fluffed a little, the feathers in his hair betraying his pleasure.

“I will never understand you two,” you broke from your narration to eye him sidelong. “Jealousy is such a human attribute. Your people mate in pairs, but that does not mean hers do. If you’d had to share her, would you?”

“If I had to,” he quirked his head, “I could. If that was what she wanted.”

Conall was always one of your dearest friends, though he and Borra were the tightly-woven pair. You imagined it would not be hard to fall in love with him, though you’d never tried. It was certainly no difficult task to love him as you had.

“Was that what she wanted?” he asked.

You were not her, so you could not answer. “She accused me of seducing you, you know.” You almost made it through the statement without laughing. “The human nonsense is mutual.”

He flushed from his cheeks to his jaw like he had a fever. Your heart momentarily lost rhythm for entirely unpleasant reasons, and you’d had to look away lest unpleasant memories rear their ugly heads.

“I should have gone with them.”

As though those thoughts were any more pleasant or any less raw; you recalled, vividly – painfully vividly – Borra’s hand upon your arm, the quick flash of his eyes requesting that you’d stay behind. You hadn’t intended to, at first, but Conall went ahead of him. He went ahead of him, and you’d presumed that, if they both left, either she would not get far, or she would be convinced to return.

You never imagined, though you should have, that they would be fired upon.

Conall was nearly blood to you both, one of your dearest friends since you were young. Watching him struggle for breath had stolen the air from your lungs. It had been some small comfort to know that Maleficent would stay with him – you imagined she would not follow you at all; that she had, in fact, chosen him and peace over war.

You did not blame her. Even as the fury in your heart spread the way lightning causes wildfire, even as your kinsmen departed to prepare for long-awaited war and Borra paused beside you in the path between the coves to wipe the dampness from his eyes. You had slipped your arms around his waist and pressed yourself close as though you were the one seeking comfort, providing an excuse for him to fold himself into you until the molten pain hardened into fury. You had not blamed her, but you were angry, and you meant to lash out at anyone and everyone but him.

An axe to the back, Conall dead; a wedding, a tantalizing little hope, and then…

You rubbed your eyes fiercely. Just to get the sun out of them, not because they were wet.

“D’you…want t’ seduce me?” Diaval offered, and the absurdity of the question sent a smile across your face whether or not you were already occupied with feeling poorly.

“I love you dearly, you horrible, rotten little bird,” you pretended that you had to shield your eyes from the sun to see him, “but I wouldn’t nest with you if you were the last bird-creature left.”

“I was the last bird-creature left, until you showed up.” He fluffed all over again, and you reached up to tug a lock of his hair near one of his feathers – threatening to pluck him rather than actually doing it. “Ow!”

“Magpie,” you teased. “Maleficent is the only one who can tolerate you.”

“You’ve tolerated me so far.” He finger-preened his own hair and the smattering of feathers intermingled in it. “And you gave me that big, long story, too. Hard t’ believe you don’t want me around when you talk my ear off.”

“You asked me to tell you about him. I can’t tell you any more than I know.”

He shook his head lightly, as though you honestly would’ve plucked his feathers.

You reached up again, for he sat upright while you lay in the bramble, and you mussed his feather-patched hair again. “She is not the only one haunted by that night. Before and after, also. That is where I wish to leave it.”

He leaned into the warmth of your palm like a fledgling. It was no wonder why she loved him, though you could not comprehend Diaval and seduction in the same thought – he was a sincere, good-hearted creature, and you were very fond of him.

“Well, we’re just a glide away if you need us. If you ever need us.”

You patted his cheek, glad that he understood when to leave well enough alone.

When you thought of Conall, you did not recall that last, disturbing day. You thought of a bright, peaceful childhood nestled high in the trees; awkward, fledge-downed wings supported by colorful, woven hammocks and a belly full of tropical fruits. You thought of napping under the high sun in a pile with them, and taking flight when you were rested – a group of feral children permitted to run loose wherever they desired to be. It never occurred to you that someone, somewhere, might believe that was not how childhood should be. Not even when his mother stood guard over the stream to make sure none of you returned home sticky.

When you thought of Conall, you remembered a conspiratorial glance you’d shared once upon a summer evening so very long ago – the promise in his springtime eyes that nothing, not even his mother’s watchful gaze, would ever come between you. Long before you’d put your vows into words with joined hands and a murmured, “Always.”

But you did not speak solely of yourself, and so you nudged Diaval rather than allow either of you to dwell upon the connotation. “I think the more important question lies in whether or not you could seduce her.”

“We’re not talking about this,” he replied, so quickly it made you grin.

“Oh, you’re right. We shouldn’t. After all, courtship is innate – no more difficult than preening. And you certainly preen her often.”

“You’re an awful, pushy vulture, and sometimes I quite dislike you.” The flush was back in his face, somehow more intense than it had last been. “No more difficult than preening, and what’s your excuse?”

You grinned with far too many of your sharp teeth. “That’s not the only part of courtship, not that you’re familiar with the rest.”

He made a half-bird sound and swatted your arm, as though it did not fuel your laughter and his blush.

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Tag List: @boxxyass, @swim-reaper, @mor-ranr, @thetempleofthemasaigoddess, @deathonyourtongue, @blacksirenswolf

#Borra x Reader #Dark Fey #Suren of the Cavernous Dark #part of the U.W. Universe #post-M:MoE #tangentially Maleficent x Diaval #tangentially #Fluff!There Is No Plot Only Zuul #No Beta We Die Like Men #aka I'll edit this tomorrow maybe

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palepinkycat · 3 years

Text

OC Interview Part 1

Tagged by @raven-of-domain-kwaad and @starlightjedi, thank you! I think all of my mutuals have already been tagged so if you want to do it again, go ahead!

Now, before she starts ~

✨ insert sarcastic tone ✨

Name? Lady Ingirid of house Vassarok, firstborn daughter of - *bursts out laughing* The lesser beings call me Asha.

Are you single? Are you brainless?

Are you happy? I suppose I am, yes. *snorts* I never thought I would say that.

Are you angry? Answering all your moronic questions? Nooo, I am the bastion of temperance.

Are your parents still married? My parents' bones have been lying in some ditch for a few centuries now. Hmm... I wonder, have their wedding rings survived?

NINE FACTS

Birth Place? Iridonia or so I've been told. House Vassarok has not been exiled yet though I find the idea of being considered a criminal highly amusing. *clenches her fists* The law cannot stop me from smashing people's faces. Go me.

Hair Color? I cannot see colours. Rainbow.

Eye Color?

Birthday? Uh oh, this is a funny one! ... No.

Mood? I would like to kill something.

Gender? Female.

Summer or winter? Winter. There are no insects in the winter and the snow is... interesting. It can freeze humans limbs off and yet it is so delicate it melts when one touches it. One day, I would like to know how snow feels like.

Morning or afternoon? Morning. It is as far from night as one can be.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

Are you in love? *blinks* What? *for a moment you can see the sadness in her eyes* I am a weapon. A weapon does not love.

Do you believe in love at first sight? *snorts* I believe in hate at first sight.

Who ended your last relationship? The Star Forge, I suppose.

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? Broken someone's heart? As in, torn it out? Yes, I have and I sincerely regret having no memory of it.

Are you afraid of commitments? No, I simply find the idea idiotic. Why would anyone willingly give themselves to anyone is a thing I cannot comprehend.

Have you hugged someone within the last week? More inane chatter, lovely. You stick your bodies together and put your arms around each other in order to do what? Do you not feel stupid? What is the purpose of such acts?

Have you ever had a secret admirer? *snorts* I am a charming woman, am I not? *pauses* On second thought, I recall a man... He used to follow me everywhere, apparently. He wore an armour with my family crest, was some kind of guard, I think? I remember... Ew, next question!

Have you ever broken your own heart? Which one? I am quite a collector.

SIX CHOICES

Love or Lust? Ooh, the power of love, naturally!

Lemonade or iced tea? I have no need of liquids. I would choose iced tea and swallow the ice cubes whole, however. Do you think I could eat the glass too? *pauses* Of course I could.

Cats or Dogs? Both have fleas. Disgusting. *she falls silent for a while* Dogs remind me of the tall Revanite. They stink and love following orders.

A few best friends or many regular friends? I am a social butterfly, can you not tell?

Wild night out or romantic night in? Romantic night in, preferably with flowers. No.

Day or night? Day. I find snoring insufferable. The sheer concept of sleep bothers me. Are you not afraid of losing control over your body? You are so fragile, anything could kill you easily and you would not even be aware of that! What if one day a creature forgets to wake up? How do you know when to do that?

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

Been caught sneaking out? I have only attempted it once. *sighs* What an attempt it was.

Fallen down/up the stairs? Do I look like the tall Revanite?

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? Yes and I have claimed it.

Wanted to disappear? I did. I suppose being locked up in a room for years is reason enough.

FOUR PREFERENCES

Smile or eyes? *looks at Rosvur* Body.

Shorter or Taller? I enjoy being the tallest woman in the room.

Intelligence or Attraction? Both.

Hook-up or Relationship? Now, this is a repulsive question.

FAMILY

Do you and your family get along? I cannot say for sure but they sacrificed our position to save me, did they not?

Would you say you have a “messed up life”? On the contrary, my life has been pretty boring as far as I can remember. I've spent the last few centuries locked up in a dark, wet room.

Have you ever ran away from home? Hmmm...Not that I can remember, though I am not sure I understand your concept of home. It sounds like a term involving a lot of feelings, is it not?

Have you ever gotten kicked out? No. *snorts* They would not dare to touch me without binding me first. What an amusing sight that was, their tiny, fragile bodies cowering in fear. They would not get rid of such a promising test subject though I suppose at least half of them wanted to. I am told one of them was strangled with the very leash they used to put on my neck. My sense of humour has always been delightful.

FRIENDS

Do you secretly hate one of your friends? Of course not. I hate everyone openly.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends? Naturally. Why would you assume otherwise?

Who is your best friend? I... ugh... GAH, DON'T MAKE ME SAY THAT.

Rosvur and Revan. Or Arren... No, Arren is... more than that.

Who knows everything about you? Arren. She knows more than I wish she did and she is always there to encourage me or stop me from making foolish decisions. I do not remember what having a mother feels like but I imagine it is something similiar to that... Ew, what I said was so sweet, I think I am about to vomit.

#oc interview #zabrak #kotor #my art #oc:asha #ok but #the question is WHO pushed alek down the stairs #no it wasn't felair #she uses more sophisticated methods than that #let's face it he probably did this to himself #how to avoid family dinners in that one fancy estate EASY TUTORIAL #or maybe it was revan?#asha can't hide her amusement #she keeps making snarky remarks and not even arren can stop her #rosvur's just? sitting somewhere in the background shaking his head in disbelief #how can this or'dinii be considered a warrior #yes alek's half pureblood in this au

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i-just-love-spop · 4 years

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8, 40, 48 and 78 for Scorfuma kids, please? :D sorry if it's too much tho :( (I love your oc's they're so cute 😔💖)

@leiazh Awww, thank you for loving my characters so much, that you do makes me so happy 😢💖

And it’s fine, always feel free to ask as many questions about them as you want, I had a lot of fun answering this one, so thank you! Just... be warned that the answer might take a while and also possibly be... really long 😅🤣

This whole thing is about 4.2k words long... whoops.

I answered the questions in order, the kids are sorted from oldest to youngest for each question (except for the twins who are the same age, nobody really knows who‘s older since they were born via c-section and their parents either didn’t ask or at least didn’t tell them [the kids don’t know which one of these is true], although Kohana does insist she’s the older twin).

I also didn’t include Frosta as a character in the ask for this one despite her being the oldest Scorfuma-kid, since she’s not my character and most of these questions wouldn’t have made much sense to answer for her anyway, since they get answered in the show, so it’s just the five kids that are actually my own characters.

Frosta does show up in some of the answers, though, obviously, along with Scorpia and Perfuma.

Also, please don’t take the way I sorted the “good” and “bad” traits too seriously – some of these would definitely be considered good or bad by most people, but other things like shyness aren’t really good or bad, they just can make your life more difficult in certain situations (which I say as a shy person) and I had to sort them into one of the categories somehow so I could include them at all.

I hope you have fun reading!

8. What are their good and bad traits?

Clover

Good traits

He tries to help his moms any way he can, both around the house and in the garden, and will do so without being asked to do it. He’s a very caring older brother that will gladly get up in the middle of the night if one of his younger siblings is upset and needs him, and he’ll also stay up late and read them to sleep when their moms are preoccupied. He’s really good at cooking and often does it for the whole family, and he’s also very creative and makes really beautiful flower arrangements. He rarely has any trouble focusing on what’s important, and he’s very enthusiastic about the things he loves, so much that it’s infectious.

Bad traits

He has trouble dealing with some of his insecurities and will lash out at others when he doesn’t know how else to handle them. He also worried about being a bother to other people when he’s upset and will often keep quiet about what’s making him sad or angry or scared rather than opening up about his emotions. He often comes off as cold to people that don’t know him very well because of this.

He also has a bit of an attitude around people he doesn’t like.

Thorn

Good traits

She always tries to take care of her friends and family and, if possible, keep them out of trouble, and she’d never say no if someone needs her help. For most people, it’s really hard to dislike her because she’s always friendly and polite and cares a lot about others, always tries to give the best advice she can and brings fresh food from the family garden everywhere. She’s really outgoing and has a relatively large friend group because of that.

Bad traits

She’s kind of naive, to a point where her desire to help others lands her in trouble every now and again because she ends up being exploited in one way or another – she doesn’t have a very good judge of character, and because of this, she has “friends” that just befriend her because she’s the crown princess, and she’s so excited to be making new friends that she doesn’t question their intentions very often, especially when she’s still a child.

It’s especially bad with a person she meets when she’s about ten, who she likes a lot, but who her parents are always kind of wary around – whenever that particular kid shows up around their house, things start disappearing, especially Thorn’s favorite toys.They eventually ask her about it, and she just says that her friend liked them so much that she gave them to the other kid, but the way she says it makes it pretty clear that she’s actually really unhappy about it and really misses her toys.

She’s actually kind of like Adora to a certain degree – she doesn’t take her own happiness into account that much and rather makes sure everyone else is happy first... but her family and her real friends always have her back and make sure she’s also having fun and feeling happy. Messing with her is not a very good idea, and if only for the relatively large Thorn-protect-squad.

Willow

Good traits

They’re really smart and pretty patient when it comes to learning new things, and they like trying out stuff they’ve never done before.

When it comes to their friends and loved ones, they show affection openly and often and even get pretty bubbly despite usually being so shy.

They’re also a really good listener and don’t back down when it comes to speaking up against someone who’s being mean to other people – they’re also extremely loyal. Their friend group isn’t huge, but if they befriend someone and that person makes them happy, they’ll go to the ends of the world for them, are extremely supportive of their goals and help them achieve them if they can.

Bad traits

They’re a... bit forgetful when it comes to certain stuff – especially things like watering plants, but also where they last put their things – including the tracker pad that’s literally in their hands when they start looking for it. They probably have the tidiest room in the entire house, and they still never freaking find anything.

They’re also really shy, so they don’t make friends very easily, and they also take criticism very personal despite not openly showing it a lot of times because they’re too embarrassed to – when someone tells them they think Willow is annoying or weird, they’re just going to keep quiet about it and then crawl into bed to cry when they get back home. They’re confident when it comes to protecting others, but they’re also really insecure when it comes to being criticized themselves.

If they’re genuinely hurt by someone, they can’t just laugh it off two days later... they take a long time to forgive others, especially if it’s people that know what they’re insecure about and still push their buttons anyway.

Aster

Good traits

He cares a lot about his family, and always knows how to cheer his siblings and especially his twin up when they’re upset. He’s also not afraid to make mistakes and doesn’t get very nervous about giving a wrong answer when he’s asked things because for him, wrong answers only mean that you learn new things you didn’t know before. If he’s good at something that his friends can’t do, he often offers to teach them and would never brag about it. He’s also really good at playing the drums.

Bad traits

He’s extremely chaotic and can also get pretty loud. He also likes fighting – sometimes it’s just friendly wrestling with his sister, and that’s fine, but they might end up breaking some stuff when they wrestle, and after he connects to the Heart Blossom, he often underestimates his powers or uses them accidentally, which results in both huge chaos and often at least smaller injuries. After he learns to control his powers better, the number of injuries decreases, but the chaos remains, especially when he and Kohana start deliberate making their powers a part of their friendly but heated competitions. They once tore half of Catradora’s living room apart on semi-accident – Finn was very excited. He’s also not good at listening when people tell him what to do – his parents sometimes get through to him, and Frosta often does, but most people out of his family don’t.

Kohana

Good traits

She’s open-minded, more likely to listen to others than her brother is, and she has a pretty healthy sense of humor. She’s also the best fighter out of all the kids – she’s been taking lessons from Frosta, Lonnie and Catra respectively since she was about ten. She’s courageous and creative and if she’s certain someone’s apology is sincere, she’s pretty forgiving, even to people who have hurt her in the past and maybe don’t deserve it. She’s also trustworthy – if you tell her a secret, she’s going to take it to her grave. She also always takes her time to pick out heartfelt birthday gifts for the people she loves because while she’s not that good with words, she still likes finding ways to make their day.

Bad traits

She’s really, really impatient and gets bored and frustrated easily – if she doesn’t manage to succeed at something during the first or at least second attempt, she just gives up frustratedly and goes on to punch something to let out her frustration. She also gets jealous really easily, especially if people learn the things she can’t do really quickly.

Like her twin brother, she’s really into fighting for fun, and she also doesn’t really learn how to pick her fights for a while. Since she’s connected to the Black Garnet rather than the Heart Blossom, she also causes destruction way more easily than Aster does. She’s also more scary than her brother if she wants to be – think chipped-Scorpia level scary.

40. If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Clover

He has yellow skin, short teal hair that’s a bit curly, pink eyes, cyan wings – the left one is torn slightly at about 3/4 of the wing which is why that one is harder to move for him – and regular elven ears that are his skin color yellow outside and a darker yellow inside.

He’s the shortest Scorfuma-child except for Frosta, about one head shorter than Willow.

Also technically not a physical feature, but he rarely ever wears formfitting clothes.

Thorn

I posted a princess maker pic of her a while back (along with pics of some of my other next gen kids), but most distinctive physical features would be: Short curly white hair (about chin-length) with flowers in it, a red scorpion tail – which is actually her only Scorpioni-trait –, dark brown eyes and Perfuma’s skin-tone.

As an adult, she’s actually the second tallest of the kids, about as tall as Scorpia.

She’s the one that’s based off of Rae’s Scorfuma-child.

Willow

I also posted a princess maker pic of them when I made their bullet point list, but most distinctive physical features would be:

They have dark skin and dark brown eyes, freckles, curly black hair that almost reaches their shoulders, and their Scorpioni parts are black rather than red like Scorpia’s. They’re kind of short as a kid, but pretty tall as an adult – not quite as tall as Scorpia, but almost that tall, and also at least somewhat buff.

Also, I know this isn’t a physical feature, but they always walk around with that little flower trinket in their chest – Sagi has a similar one. He found it in a box when he was little and when Willow saw him with it, they promptly decided they wanted the same one, so their parents got them the same one. Neither Willow nor Sagi take them off very often, they actually still wear them well into adulthood.

Aster

He has freckles, dark brown eyes and extremely short white hair which you can see would probably be a lot more curly should he choose to grow it out. His skin-tone is somewhere in between Scorpia’s and Perfuma’s. He also has some red Scorpioni-features – the shoulders, the tail and the waist-parts.

He’s shorter than his twin sister Kohana for most of their childhood, but eventually outgrows her by about five inches when they‘re in their teens.

He’s also the only one of the kids that actually ends up being taller than Scorpia when he’s fully grown.

Kohana

She has dark brown eyes, Scorpia’s skin-tone and freckles, also long straight blond hair that she usually grows out to about waist-length and then wears in really any kind of plait, but most often a ponytail, but she cuts it off almost completely on a couple of different occasions throughout her life, mostly because it sometimes if it gets in her way or on her nerves all of a sudden.

She has pincers, as well as the knee and waist-Scorpioni-features.

She also has her ears pierced and likes wearing different kinds of colorful earrings from a pretty early age on, often even mismatching ones.

She’s relatively tall, give or take about as tall as Willow, maybe slightly taller, which makes her almost as tall as Scorpia.

And, again not a physical feature, but she also has either flowers or grass or both either on her clothes or in her hair at all possible times, varying from stuff like flower crowns and actual jewelry to just a grassy reminder on her shirt that she had another wrestling match with Aster in the garden.

48. What does their room look like?

Clover

His room is pretty tidy for the most part.

He has shelves filled with astronomy, gardening and cooking books that his siblings often lend and that are then never returned to him again – except for the cooking books because he’s made it very clear that he can’t cook as well as he usually does without them when too many of them disappeared that one time.

He also has a bunch of different CDs because he’s really into music – he can’t play any, but he really likes listening to it –, and he also has a couple really terrible old movies that he likes to make fun of with his parents and siblings, especially if one of them is having a bad day, as well as some children’s books that he often read to Willow and the twins when they were little and then kept because of the good memories.

He has a photo album where he keeps pictures of all his loved ones that he always keeps somewhere close to his bed, and an old baby blanket that he brought from the orphanage, which was the only memento he actually wanted to keep when it became clear that Scorpia and Perfuma would stay his moms for the rest of his life.

Thorn

Her room is very flowery, different potted plants standing on most of her wooden furniture as well as embroidered flowers on her white curtains.

The room is kind of tidy, but there’s a lot of notebooks and pens scattered all over it – she started keeping a diary pretty much since she first learned how to write, and she keeps all of them so she can look at her memories whenever she wants. When she’s a teen, she also picks up a habit of writing – sometimes stories, but more often, poems, which she keeps locked up in a treasure chest because she’s too shy to show them to anyone.

There’s a bunch of different genre novels on her shelf – she’s mostly into RomComs, stories about friendship and horror –, she also has a bright pink meditation mat that’s always lying on the floor in front of her bed for when she needs to relax, along with a tea set that her parents gifted her.

She also has a secret stash of sweets to make herself feel better whenever she’s upset that she keeps in a jewelry case with a false bottom in a drawer in her bedside table.

Willow

They have a bunch of cacti in their room, because they’re the only plant that Willow can actually have that they don’t accidentally end up killing after, like, a week of constantly forgetting to water them. Most of them are on their window sill. Their room is probably the tidiest in the entire house, including their parents’ bedroom. They have a calendar over their bed, a bunch of fluffy pillows and a mint-green blanket on their relatively large bed. They’re also the one that got to keep Scorpia’s little scorpion plushie – Frosta had it for a while after she was adopted, then Thorn until Scorpia and Perfuma adopted Clover, and then Willow got it. The twins each got their own separate plushie, so Willow ended up keeping this one, and it’s been sitting on top of their science book shelf since they turned twelve.

There’s a fluffy colorful carpet on the floor, and some equally colorful curtains to fit the picture, and a really bright nightlight on their bedside table that they‘re allowed to leave on day an night if they want to.

Willow also always has their swim gear somewhere in reach, which is probably the only thing in the room that they never end up searching for.

There’s also a bunch of different photos all around their room – family photos, and of their friends, mostly photos of Willow and Sagi and also some of them with Angie.

Aster and Kohana

They share a room for most of their childhood, so I’m going to do them together.

The fact that they share a room is mostly because it was just easier that way when they were little – they were offered to get separate rooms when they grew older, but they didn’t want to, and only actually end up getting separate rooms when they’re around fifteen years old.

These two are chaos incarnate, and so is their room. There’s books and toys all over the place, but despite that, both of them always know where everything is, surprisingly – and if one of them asks the other to hand them something, the other does it immediately without ever searching before. Their parents sometimes joke about how that’s their real magic skill rather than their connection to the Runestones.

There’s also a sword somewhere amidst the chaos that’s hopefully but probably not a toy that Frosta got them for one of their birthdays, as well as Aster’s ice skates and aways at least one canvas that Kohana starts painting on and then gives up on at least three times a week until she’s eventually satisfied and it gets hung up on the wall in the hallway or the dining room. Because of this, there’s also tons of art supplies scattered everywhere, and a huge red stain on the otherwise light brown carpet where she accidentally knocked over a cup of paint, tried to clean it up and just made everything worse. They sometimes joke about how someone that got on their nerves was murdered there.

There’s also a bunch of pictures on their wall.

They’re often just standing in the middle of their mess, painting and drumming, respectively.

78. If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

Honestly, that really depends on who’s around in the scenario with most of them, but I’m just going to go with “if they could pick literally anyone”.

Clover

Perfuma, that’s not even a question. He’s thirteen when he’s adopted, so it’s not the kind of “mommy there’s a monster under my bed”-nightmares, but he does have some bad dreams about more serious topics – he doesn’t remember much about his biological parents, but sometimes he hears shouting at the back of his mind when he closes his eyes and wonders if it’s them, and sometimes he has dreams about being back at the orphanage with that one kid that bullied him.

He then knocks at his mothers’ bedroom door softly, enters and wakes Perfuma – she told him very early on that she doesn’t care how late it is, he’s always allowed to wake her or Scorpia if he needs them –, and when he wakes her up, the first time she does is leave the room with him to talk to him alone for a moment. She always asks if he wants her to wake up her other mom as well, and sometimes he does because sometimes the only thing he needs is to cuddle with his moms on the couch in peace until he calms down...

But especially shortly after the adoption, he don’t want to feel like a burden to his new adoptive parents, and it’s worse enough that he’s annoying one of them – he’s pretty afraid they’re just going to decide they don’t want him after all if he turns out to be too difficult of a child, because he has friends and acquaintances that were adopted and eventually cane back to the orphanage because the adoption didn’t work out –, and despite Scorpia being the softest, friendliest person he has ever met, he’s also kind of intimidated by her at first because she’s so tall and buff and he is a really short forest elf, which is why it’s a little easier for him to talk to just Perfuma about his nightmares at first. ...and he also gets a little overwhelmed with multiple people questioning why he’s feeling bad sometimes, even if they mean well, so sometimes one person works better for him.

Scorpia sometimes feels insecure about this, but really, she just wants her kid to be happy, and if her wife can help him more than she can, that’s fine, and she’s obviously not going to blame him for it or make him feel bad about it.

Perfuma always makes him tea if he wants one, and then they’ll just cuddle under a blanket on the couch, and if he wants to talk, she’s going to let him talk, but she’s also not going to force him to speak to her about things he’s not ready to talk about. Sometimes, she tells him stories from her childhood to show him he isn’t alone with at least some of his fears, but of course only if he wants her to. Sometimes she’ll just take him outside into the garden so he can get some fresh air and lay down in the grass to look up into the sky and at the stars – he’s really into astronomy, and if he can’t talk about what’s bothering him, telling her stories about different constellations always calms him down and makes him feel better, so she will gladly listen to that for several hours if that’s what he needs.

...that, and also sometimes he just needs to hear that mom will kick someone’s ass with flowers if they bother him again.

Clover and Perfuma grow really close pretty quickly if you couldn’t tell.

Thorn

When Thorn has a nightmares, she usually just wakes both of her moms when she’s little – this changes a bit as she grows older and realizes there’s different kinds of help she needs depending on how upset she is and what kind of nightmare she had. Sometimes meditating with Perfuma helps her calm down and feel better, sometimes she just need Scorpia’s hugs and some hot cocoa – but honestly, this can be applied to most situations when she’s upset, not necessarily just nightmares.

Sometimes, also just she really needs someone to talk to, and, depending on the topic, it’s easier to just talk to one of them instead of both because she knows which one of her moms will understand her fears better, but sometimes she also just needs both of them.

She rarely ever goes back to her own bed after a nightmare and instead just climbs into bed with her parents.

Sometimes, when they stay over at Bright Moon, she also goes to cuddle with Arrow when she’s scared because Arrow glows and that calms her down – and also, Arrow will absolutely stage a kitchen robbery for some sweets in the middle of the night just to cheer her up.

Willow

They connect with Scorpia very well very quickly, so usually it’s Scorpia that they run to after a nightmare for some late-night cuddling and the best, most beautiful singing in the world to put them back to sleep.

Willow rarely ever has any nightmares that they can put into words – they wake up terrified and shaking, but without an actual memory of what they’re so afraid of, so there’s usually not a lot of talking involved. Scorpia usually makes them some tea, then sings to them and leaves the lights on when her child falls back asleep so that they’re not as scared anymore when they wake up again. After particularly bad nightmares when Willow doesn’t want to sleep again at all, Scorpia usually just puts on a movie or two until eventually, their tiredness catches up to them and then Scorpia sleeps on the couch with her kid sleeping on her chest.

They also often wake up Thorn who allows them to sleep in her bed and then reads to Willow until they fall asleep. When it’s especially bad, she hands out some of her precious emergency candy to make them feel better.

Aster and Kohana

Since Aster and Kohana share a room, the first person they usually wake is each other – sometimes deliberately, and sometimes accidentally, either by waking up screaming or by turning on the light.

After that, who they run to depends which one of them had the nightmare – if possible, they both like to wake Frosta who will definitely beat up any possible monster under their beds.

Other than that, Aster usually wakes Clover who takes their minds off things by either going downstate with them for a midnight snack that they prepare together, or by reading funny stories to them where the hero always wins and defeats the bad guys – he then convinces them that the stories about the good guys winning are way too scary for any possible monsters in their room and that they’ve long fled by the time the story ends, but also offers to read another one, then another and another of they’re not completely convinced. This goes on until they fall asleep, and sometimes Clover doesn’t even make it back to bed and just falls asleep in a chair in between their beds while he’s reading.

Kohana on the other hand usually wakes Scorpia, especially after she’s learned to control her magic more, so her mom can help her practice her magic outside to take her mind off things and help her feel stronger. Aster often joins in on the training as well, and then they end up being so exhausted that not only do they fall back asleep when Scorpia puts them back to bed afterwards and sings them to sleep, but they also sleep in in the morning – which rarely ever happens to any of the kids, but especially not to those two with their seemingly endless amount of energy.

—

Here are the questions again if anyone wants to ask anything else.

#scorfuma #scorpia #perfuma #spop #she-ra #scorfuma kids #she ra #she-ra oc #my ocs #spop Clover #spop Thorn #spop Willow #spop Aster #spop Kohana #answered #spop next gen

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axther · 4 years

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[1/3]Hi! i'd like a BNHA matchup? I'm a INFJ-T, female, virgo. I'm 5'11 and very insecure about my height, because of that I'm very awkward around people even people I'm comfortable with. I'm very shy and reserved, frankly judgmental with people I don't know. it’s something I'm trying to work on. those who I feel are trusting enough or even really worth of me as a friend, I cherish completely. I'd do anything to protect the people I care about.

BJFSABFNJAS I COULDN’T DECIDE SO YOU GET FOUR INSTEAD OF THREE

#1 is...Todoroki!

Oh my GOD

Y’all judge each other, on the spot

It wasn’t even intentional, of course

But you see him and it’s an immediate ‘oh god an emotionally constipated rich boy’

And he sees you and thinks that you just straight-up hate everyone

So y’all don’t talk.

At all.

There’s a strange tension between you two

It’s not hate, but you two aren’t friends

Until the sports festival

And he becomes more social

It makes him become more aware

He thinks about how he had prejudices about people

So rather than dance around it

He just walks up to you and asks if you hate him

You panic!! Naturally!!

And you clear it up, fast

He’s relieved, of course

But now he feels bad, and you feel bad

So he starts sticking to you

You guys haven’t talked much, but he still hangs around you

It’s a weird symbiotic relationship

Your friends become his friends

And little by little, he starts realising that you’re really pretty when you’re open

And he’s not talking the sort of pretty that makes heads turn

But it’s a soft comfort

You fret over everyone in your friend circle and it makes his heart flutter, just a bit

And you’re so tall!!

In my humble opinion, todo would absolutely DIE of joy if his s/o was tall

(actually, i think all the lads n gals would die of joy but eye-)

Not only do most of the fangirls not fuck wit you!!

But big spoon big spoon big spoon!!!

Take some of the responsibility to protect everyone off his shoulders

Because as soon as y’all are on the bed, your arms wrapped around him,

He’s out like a light

The boy even dreams about you omg

You wake up in the middle of the night to hear him murmuring something about your hair

And then turns and nuzzles into that shit and oh my god

soft.jpg

#2 is...Josuke!

Now listen

Josuke’s the same height as you

And considering that the average Japanese woman’s height is 5’2

As SOON as he sees you, he’s that one gif from parks and rec where they zoom in on Chris pratt

He’s THRILLED

Like he can and will stop you in the street and strike up a conversation

Because holy shit!! This Jupiter of a woman can look him in the eye!!

When I say it’s love at first sight I mean it’s on sight

He sees you and he’s enraptured

And as soon as he realises you’re so sweet, albeit a bit closed off

He makes it his personal goal to be close friends with you, if not more

Can and will flaunt you around

There are several repercussions

One, Okuyasu is jealous as fuck because his type is motherly and soft

Two, Koichi is even more dwarfed

Three, Jotaro is surprised but pleasantly so!

Let’s talk about one of my favourite aspects of dating a JJBA Part 3 and forward character

Stands

And here we’re going to assume you have a stand (something i feel that would be kinda omnipotent and not physical, like having a third eye that can see into the future or smth)

Crazy Diamond: Crazy

Like CD will hang around you as soon as you’re in range

Somehow, CD will find a load of little gifts, even if they’re a bit unconventional

What’re you going to do with a tonne of shiny rocks??

I don’t know but it will break CD’s heart if you throw them out

(guess it’s time for a rock collection)

It comes to a point that if you and Josuke have an argument, Josuke’ll be stubborn

But CD will wail and cling to you like glue

It’s certainly nice because CD shows how Josuke’s feeling

So arguments and unspoken problems are resolved a lot faster

Josuke’s not embarrassed by CD’s clinginess!!

He’s like ‘fuck yeah my gf knows just how much I love her!!!’

#3 (tied with #4) is…Jotaro (Pt 3)!

Tsundere boye

Will refuse for FOREVER to tell anyone he has a crush

But you make him super soft

You aren’t fangirl-y so it’s certainly a breath of fresh air for him

You’re calm and quiet and not too short

(remember he’s like 6’2 so you don’t have to worry about being too tall!!!)

He won’t admit it until you’re actually in a relationship, but he’s super confused about why you’re insecure about your tallness.

He thinks it’s incredible

You were literally born to run faster, fight better, be stronger

It’s the same way with him, so it does make him sort of wonder if his height is bad

He gets over it relatively quickly

As much as he’s big and mean, he’s also VERY VERY SOFT.

Smiling gently when you’re not looking? Being super proud of your work?

Soft kisses on the shoulder and watching you sleep next to him once he confesses?

Yes’m!!

Once camera phones come out you bet your ass that the only pictures on his phone are candids of you

He loves you so, so much

While he feels that he’s a bit unwieldy in the romance department, he’s always there for you!!

And it absolutely makes his heart swell with love if you tell him how much you love him and what you adore about him

And don’t get me started on Star Platinum

S-Plat adores you on a whole ‘nother level

Rather than rocks like Josuke, S-Plat will give you actual stuff like magazines and drinks

You so much as glance for half a second too long at a set of paintbrushes, or a trinket??

S-Plat is there with it in hand, and Joot’s got his hat tilted down with a furious blush

S-Plat loves hugging you!!!

He’s a cuddle monster, even though Jotaro won’t act like it for a long, long time

He will hang off your shoulders and refuse to disappear unless you tell him to, something that bothers Jotaro a lot, actually

Does that mean you’re okay if he did it? Are Stands technically sentient, but just obey out of obligation?

S-Plat’s super protective of you, too

While Jotaro is scared shitless something will happen to you, he respects your space and lets you do your own thing

But oh lord

If there’s a Stand attack and you get hurt, S-Plat can and will go apeshit.

I mean this in the most literal sense possible

Everyone will be howling for S-Plat not to kill the Stand user, not to hurt him anymore

But Jotaro glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sees your limp body

There’s a furious, cold steel gleam in his eye

He’s purely emotionless

But Star Platinum is screaming, sobbing, torn between taking care of you and ripping the Stand user to shreds.

Everyone can see that it’s impacting Jotaro on an incredibly deep level

And that’s probably how most of the Stardust Crusaders found out, honestly

Because when someone is ready to kill for you (and almost does), doesn’t that say more than enough?

#4 (Tied with #3) is...Jonathan!

a GENTLEMAN

This king would treat you so well

Folks call him a simp but they’re fools

He would treat you so gently

It’s almost like he thinks you’re delicate

Of course, you’re not, but it’s an incredibly cushy lifestyle

Being pampered by your rich boyfriend who wouldn’t so much as glance at any other girls if you even vaguely mentioned it???

Yes’m!!!

You paint him something??

The next time you visit, it will be front and centre by the staircase

You write something for him?

He has it in his pocket, constantly, and reads it when he needs a breather.

He adores you endlessly and wants to marry you, 100%

He’s here for the long run!!

After the first fight with Dio, he’s stressing to you how much he just wants to live well with you

(personally, i write within the Eyes Of Heaven AU, and Jonathan lives, goddamnit)

After the second and third fights, he drops as much of the fighting life as he can

The last thing he wants is to die on you and leave you a widow

You tease him on how big-hearted he is at times, but takes it all with an open mind

He thinks that when you get upset, it’s adorable

You’re much shorter than him, so he just wraps you up in a big ‘ol hug

But if you’re angry at him, he won’t

He feels like it invalidates your anger, and the last thing he wants is to make you feel bad

The kind of arguments you guys would have would be like ‘You got me the best present!’ v ‘No, you got me the best present!!’

Seriously

The amount of softness...its tangible

#matchups #matchup #bnha x reader #jjba x reader #IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG #I didn't realise how much of my creative cells 'hey lover!' took lmao

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typhonheroes · 7 years

Text

Wings

Apollo didn’t like bothering Jacqueline.

She was a nice girl, definitely the sweetest of the bunch, and she had a particular wit to her that made a conversation entertaining. For a twelve-year-old she definitely knew her stuff, and so it’s no wonder that she’d made it this far with the superhero crew.

Perhaps it was her prestige and intelligence that made Apollo consider her opinion of the highest value. That’s why he called her the morning after his “accident.”

He was still, admittedly, emotionally compromised. He had gotten very little sleep the night before and upon waking he found it difficult to move. So difficult in fact that he refrained from leaving bed altogether, and instead opted to have Jack run him his breakfast. He felt bad considering everyone in their house had their own problems, but his roommates seemed more than inclined to help. Noah was particularly irritated however, about Eli’s disappearance.

“When you need him most he leaves,” he had said under his breath.

But it was in this state that Apollo decided it would be best to figure out what to do with his one remaining wing. He had thought about it ever since he found out he would lose the other, and it was something that he simply couldn’t ignore anymore. As far as he could tell it would be nothing more than a nuisance from here on, something that would make everyday life all the harder. In Apollo’s mind he was more than willing to cut it off, and as a result he wanted to get rid of it now when he was still in the state to consider it an option.

But, again, Jacqueline’s opinion was heavily valued. If she said that it was a bad idea then it was a bad idea, and Apollo would refrain.

So he calls her up that morning -- his phone of the few things within reach. He decides against calling until nine because he figures that by then she would be up and about and open to conversation. Jacqueline answers after a couple of rings and the grogginess can be heard in her voice. Evidently, she got very little sleep too.

“Hello?”

“Jacqueline. It’s me, Apollo.”

“Oh, hey. What can I do for you?”

“I need your help with something.”

“With what?”

“Did you see the news yesterday?”

There’s a pause. Then she says. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“I know, everyone is. But I’m not worried about pity right now I need to figure something out and I want your help.”

“What do you need exactly?”

“It... It would be better for you to see in person. Can you come over to my place sometime soon?”

“Sure. I can be over in about half an hour if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. I might not answer the door--” as if he could “--so if either of my roommates do just tell them that I asked you to come over.”

“Okay.”

Then the call ended and Apollo waited. Jacqueline arrived as predicted a little less than half an hour later. Noah let her in and pointed her in the right direction. She went up, her mind spiraling off in every other direction as she tried to determine what exactly had happened after that fight. She knew it couldn’t have been pretty -- the live recording was cut just before things got especially gory but viewers could see the electrocution and that would’ve been enough to scar anyone. So with that in mind, Jacqueline was ever unsure of what she might find.

What she found was not the best thing in the world, but not the worst either. Her worst-case-scenario had been finding Apollo brutally scarred from burns and cuts. Perhaps he would have been deformed beyond recognition, or perhaps he would be barely pulling through on life support, either way neither of those conditions were true and so her anxiety left in part.

But that didn’t change the fact that the matter was terrible. There Apollo was, sitting up in bed where every little movement caused discomfort that showed through his expression. One wing laid limply at his side, crooked in parts and missing feathers in others. The other wing was nowhere to be found.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“I’m sorry about what happened Apollo,” was the first thing Jacqueline said as she sat down at his bedside. “I wish we’d known what would happen, then maybe we could’ve changed it.”

“There’s no point lingering on the past,” Apollo assured. “But I have a question about the future.”

“Ask away, I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

Apollo nodded, and composed himself before he spoke. “I want to cut off my wing.”

“That’s not much of a question.”

“I want to know if it’s a good idea.”

“Well, tell me the good and the bad.”

“This wing is practically useless. My other wing won’t heal so... so I won’t be able to fly again. My balance is awful when I only have a wing, dare I say even worse than when I have none. Not to mention it’s awkward to look at -- it’s like I can’t decide what I want to be. I should either be a whole angel or a whole mortal, I can’t stay on the fence.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I just don’t want to. It’s time I make a choice and my choice is to walk among man. Always.”

Jacqueline stared at Apollo’s expression for a moment. There was a fire in his eyes, a passion that shrouded desperation and fear. He obviously wanted this to be done, and Jacqueline wondered if he would follow through even if she told him not to. Regardless he obviously craved a response, so Jacqueline decided to give him one.

“If it’s for the best then so be it, cut it off. I won’t stop you.”

“Will you help me?”

“I’m not much of a surgeon. I could always ask my brother to help but he’s not the biggest fan of blood. Regardless if you really want this done then I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Apollo wanted the deed done before nightfall and so he got his wish. Justin came over, and the two of them along with Apollo’s roommates made a little area in the bathroom where they could complete the procedure. There was little fear of blood loss but they still made a sterile place to work with.

As they were prepping Jacqueline kept Apollo busy with conversation.

“Do you know a man named Eli?” he asked as he slowly lowered himself onto the slab of metal currently accounting for a make-shift surgeon’s table.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I was just wondering is all. Do not fret.”

“Is he important? You should tell me about him.”

“Well, I mean, I suppose he is a bit important. My roommates and I haven’t known him for very long though, so I can’t say what I’ll be able to tell you.”

“Tell me whatever you can think of. Personality, appearance, hobbies, whatever floats your boat.” Apollo was being secured down to the table whilst this conversation was happening.

“He’s possessed by a demon,” he began ever so bluntly. “A demon named Marshall. The demon’s a complete ass but Eli... Eli’s a lot more different. He seems so kind and caring and I can tell you that before whatever happened he was a good person. It’s really unfortunate to see where life has lead him, but the only problem that I have is that he’s just... hard to read. I never know what he’s thinking, and I’m always worried about his intentions. I blame the demon but even then I hardly know him and yet people have told me to fear him.”

Jacqueline had enough sense to know who these “people” were. She’d heard Marcus ranting about someone many weeks back, someone who seemed to cause a lot of trouble. That could easily be this Eli fellow, and if it was then suddenly a lot more things made sense.

“I can’t tell if he has a heart of gold covered in grime, or a tainted heart painted gold. His possession is definitely one of the more unique ones I’ve seen. The ones I’m used to demand exorcisms, and have victims who unwillingly agreed to the occasion and have lost all control of themselves. Eli’s not like that -- he seems to have some control over the demon, though how much I’m not entirely sure.”

“He seems like an interesting man.”

“He is.”

“Why don’t you tell me more? He’s starting to sound familiar,” she lied.

“Well, he’s from Boston. His accent is pretty obvious and honestly I don’t know enough about Massachusetts to figure out whether he’s faking it. And he has the oddest color of eyes I’ve ever seen, sometimes they’re so deeply mixed that they remind me of islands on the sea, and other times they’re so fiercely red that they... that they remind me he’s a demon.” Apollo paused now, a far off look on his face as his brow furrowed and he stared at the floor. Jacqueline gave him a quizzical look before prompting him to go on.

“Anything else you remember?” Apollo perked up.

“He’s a bit on the shorter side, I think I’m taller by a couple of inches. He also has this scar on his lips -- I think it was the first thing I noticed about him. Besides the accent, of course. I don’t know the story behind it but I wish I did. Then again, the whole ‘shrouded in mystery’ stuff seems to be his deal.” Who knows if Eli even intends to confuse Apollo as much as he does. “He has powers all stored away in that demon book of his, and I’ve only ever gotten to see him use it a couple of times but the few times I have I’ve seen his armor and let me just say that it’s absolutely stunning.”

“How so?”

“It’s just--elegant. Awfully elegant. It fits his form so perfectly even though medieval and Bostonian don’t exactly mix. Still, he finds a way to make it work. It’s all so incredible.”

“You seem really interested in him.”

“I can’t help but be. He’s the first person in a while who has piqued my interest so greatly, even if others seem to disapprove.” He could hardly be less subtle. “I think it’s just the want of knowledge that makes me this way. I want to know everything there is to know about him.”

“Everything?”

“Well, I suppose not everything. It’s just rare that I meet someone who has gone through what he’s gone through and continues to fight for what he has. It’s admirable, but I can’t understand it. Maybe that’s why I’m so interested.”

“You can’t understand it?”

“No. When my heart was broken twice over I was ready to give up. When Marcus died and Desmond left I was ready to give up. When my wing was torn from my back I was ready to give up. I cannot understand how someone could go through what he has gone through and not give up.”

“You’ve never given up either. You keep fighting even when things get hard.”

“Yes,” Apollo said as his eyes met Jacqueline’s. “But that’s only because I am a coward.”

#//jacqueline is def starting to notice apollo's feelings for eli even if apollo doesn't realize them #drabble;

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