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periwinklemoonlight · 4 months

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desperate for a minute in the light ⋆ boatem knights au

my third short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! this is a big one!

cw: death, graphic injury, body horror

if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!

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It all was a bit of a blur. Pearl wasn’t sure if she could recount how exactly she had stumbled across the ancient temple in her journey, if she was honest. She had just been wandering around the forest on the outskirts of camp, and maybe travelled a bit too far in when she’d broken off from the others. She was sure that she would’ve seen a structure as big as this one earlier, though. Or that someone else had seen it, at least. The thing practically towered over the treetops around it.

Pearl tiptoed around fallen tree branches, fluttering her wings curiously. The structure sat in the middle of a small clearing, lush with tall grass and decorated with small, vibrant purple flowers. They were in sharp contrast to their surroundings, a stark colour among greens and yellows. She made a mental note to remember to pick a few from their stems when she was on her way back. There was a slightly older girl in her flock that she knew had garnered a great interest in botany recently, and Pearl had thought it a good idea to ask her to identify the flora. She’d also found herself rather interested in plants as of late, though she was always most enamoured with those that matched the lustrous gold colour of her wings.

There was a small path of scattered rocks leading up to the entrance of the temple, barely visible between the blades of grass that hiked up to her waist. The Sun was high in the sky, and at just the right angle for the building to now be casting an ominous shadow over her as she approached ever closer. Its intimidating stature did not deter her; Pearl stepped deeper into the darkness.

It was extraordinarily odd, she had decided, that something like this had been here for what she presumed had to be centuries, if not millennia, and not a single person had ever mentioned it. It was a tall thing, to be sure, although as she looked closer she saw it did not seem to actually be very large beyond its generous entrance. It appeared to Pearl as more of a facade, as if the idea of a structure was all that remained. She wondered what the need for such a building may once have been before time and disrepair had taken hold of it and its architects.

Speculation aside, it was in a terrible state to be sure, with massive chunks of rock missing and an assortment of unidentifiable vines and mosses nearly entirely encompassing what was left. They seemed to crawl in between the cracks of stone and twist into each other like knots. Frail-looking columns teeming with fractures were all that remained to hold it all in place among crumbling walls, though evidently not without much difficulty. All things considered, it was a miracle it was still standing.

The absolute disarray the structure was in made it all the more intriguing that a crescent moon symbol at its forefront was still completely intact, and subsequently, all the more imperative for Pearl to investigate. Or at least, that was how she had reasoned it out in her mind.

Pearl crossed the threshold inside.

She wasn’t expecting to find anything of value inside the old temple when she had entered, much less the prettiest thing she had ever laid eyes upon. There, resting on a crumbling pedestal at the other end of the temple was a beautiful silver crown, adorned with twinkling jewels and iridescent pearls. All her other curiosities were instantly thrown away the moment she saw it. It was magnetic: how she was instantly drawn to the item, and utterly sure that her finding it was no mistake.

Sweet sunlight poured into the temple through half shattered stained glass windows, coating the crown in an alluringly bright glint that made Pearl’s heart swell with excitement. It was perfect. Her flock mates would come back from their search and see her wearing the gorgeous object, shinier than anything any of them had ever seen before, and be unable to resist showering her with praise for her expert find. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t already deeply accustomed to it, though. Being her flock’s golden girl had its perks, undoubtedly, especially in terms of popularity among the other children. The meticulously woven crown of sunflowers in her hair said as much.

Something dark began to build in her as she approached it, however. The closer she got to the object, the more she could swear she smelled something rotting. Every eager step she took was soon punctuated by a feeling of dread that was quickly overtaking the initial exhilaration. Still, she persisted. She couldn’t give up the opportunity of retrieving the crown, couldn't shake off the feeling that something about it was just so right. Something so meant for her, and her alone.

Pearl held her breath as she reached the final steps, though at that point she couldn’t tell whether it was in anticipation or to momentarily relieve herself of the nauseating smell that exuded from every crack in the stone and permeated all her senses. It was wholeheartedly disgusting, but Pearl had never been one to flinch at a little muck. The crown was just as beautiful up close, every jewel shining in a vibrant technicolour that by all accounts should have been impossible. She wanted nothing more than to take it for herself, place it upon her head and declare her rightful place as queen of this old dilapidated structure.

She reached out to grab it, and gasped in shock at the intense burning sensation that instantly spread from the metal’s surface to her fingertips. Then, it all went dark. Though it was midday, the light that had been streaming into the temple vanished at once, as if someone had forcefully put the Sun to rest and brought upon night. The only light now was a faint, ghoulish glow emitting from the crown as it continued to singe her fingers.

Pearl screamed in pain, though it only fell on the deaf ears of the dark. The sound reverberated around the temple walls, surrounding her in a claustrophobic cacophony of her own agony as the smell of flesh burning filled the air.

She watched in frozen horror as the skin on her fingers began to melt and rot before her eyes. Flesh bubbled and sloughed off as the burning spread down her palm, then her arm, until it creeped into her shoulder and threatened to seep into her wings. Pearl cried out again, bony fingers trembling uncontrollably as the rot began to trace her spine. Chills wracked exposed bone as warm blood ran down her back. Her feathers withered into ash as quickly as hair catching flame. As the pain began to paralyze her body entirely, Pearl thought, while she still had the capacity to think, anyone, anything, please, help me.

Her vision began to fizzle out entirely, and what was left of her collapsed on the temple floor as she finally let go of the wretched item, fingers fully limp. It was far too late, though. Seconds, maybe minutes, maybe years of agony seared through her body as she lay helpless, the crown fallen somewhere just out of reach. And then, it all stopped.

Pearl wasn’t anywhere, and she was everywhere.

A new type of darkness encapsulated her, this one deeper, more primordial than the first. No, not the absence of light as it had once been, but rather the essence of darkness itself. Although she knew it was dark, she could not see. No senses passed through her as she drifted meaninglessly, unsure if she was falling or rising or even moving at all.

It was peaceful, yes. It couldn’t be anything but. Nothing around her, nothing against her, nothing for her, she was nothing just the same. All that was left was a deep, insurmountable emptiness. The emptiness that held the fabric of the universe together, the negative space to fill the gaps to keep it all from falling apart at the seams. Pearl might have felt fear, being surrounded by nothing and everything, if she had still been capable of anything at all.

Pearl spent forever in the silent nothingness, and no time at all had passed when she first heard it. A faint single tone, low but not deep, floated around her. Pearl clung onto the sensation desperately, trying to grasp at it, take it for herself and hold it tight to her chest. Instead, she followed it as it slowly became louder, more solid. The pitch increased, then dropped and mellowed out in the middle once more. The melody was the brightest thing she had ever seen in a long, long time.

She followed its lead, doing something akin to opening her mouth to sing along, wanting to join this light in its song. She did not, of course. She had no mouth to sing with, and no voice to produce noise. She was just Pearl. Still, she chased the tone, which had since then evolved into a simple melody, repeating itself patiently, taking care to never get ahead of itself or change its pace. The melody had all the time in the world. It knew Pearl did, too.

She felt herself be guided by the song, mirroring its tones with her movements. When it dipped, she dived down with it. When it rose, she soared. The vocalisations carried her like a current, weaving Pearl through its highs and lows.

And then, all at once, nothing was dark or ever had been dark. A brightness enveloped her, so purely light that darkness would never dare step close to it, lest it cease to exist entirely. It knew better. The melody had evolved too, the chiming tones teetering on the edge of resembling words. Pearl could not make them out.

Instead, she allowed the song to engulf her as well, feeling two blankets of light drape across something that could have been her back. Gently, the song washed over her and flowed like a lullaby, rendering her into something akin to sleep. Suddenly, after spending eternity in absence, she was something again. The light became brighter, heavier, thicker, until it was no longer encasing her. It was her.

The light was as bright as it ever could be, and suddenly it was dark again.

And cold. And wet. And sticky. And gross. Pearl opened her eyes, and found herself exactly where she’d ought to have been. Collapsed before the pedestal, yet bathed in the same warm light of midday. Except, something was very, very wrong. She lifted herself weakly off the temple floor onto her elbows, finding her hands covered in a black sludgy substance. Brown, wilted petals and leaves lay where her head had been. Pearl’s vision blurred and spun, and she blinked it away as best as she could, trying to orient herself to having a body again.

She wiped the sludge off her hand on something white and soft, a fuzzy substance resting gently underneath her as if it had broken her fall all this time. Its edges appeared torn and frayed. She attempted to raise herself up further, and was met with an intense ache in her back that caused her to double over again in pain. She inhaled sharply — she was breathing, she could breathe— and tried again, this time successfully balancing onto her knees.

She made a half hearted attempt to flutter her wings, feeling panic start to surge through her when they felt wrong. Lighter. The familiar weight of hollow bones and strong muscle on Pearl’s back was replaced with something featherlight and delicate, though she would bet that whatever was there wasn’t feathers at all.

With trembling hands, Pearl reached up over her ear to feel the texture of the small wings that resided there, the panic bubbling inside her as she felt nothing but smooth skin and clumps of wet hair where soft feathers should be. No, no, no.

Her hand traveled higher, threading through her hair and stopping at her forehead. No, that wasn’t right. Her hand was stopped. By an antenna, sticking out of her head just where her bangs began. She grasped it, and promptly cried out in pain at just how sensitive it was, her nerves on fire. And then it hit her. She was feeling what it felt. It was a part of her.

There, sitting covered in sludge-like black goo and on top of a silk cocoon, at the crest of a worn down temple in the middle of nowhere, Pearl screamed. And this time, it was heard.

She had only just managed to get herself to stand on her own two feet again when she heard twigs snapping and familiar voices chattering nervously, getting closer. Pearl balanced herself with great difficulty, the lightness on her back still disorienting. Slowly, achingly, she stepped forwards off of the silk and onto the cold, gritty temple floor once more.

“Pearl?” an approaching voice called out, stretching out her name. “Where are you? Are you okay?” Pearl opened her mouth to speak and screamed again as black sludge poured out and trailed down her chin, evidently not yet all spilled on the floor behind her. The noise alerted her flockmates, though, and the footsteps drawing near increased in speed tenfold as she spat out the rest of the sludge, feeling utterly disgusted.

“Pearl!” they called again. “Are you in here?” A flurry of voices accompanied the cry, getting closer and closer until Pearl could finally see them approaching her. The leader of the search party, a girl with dandelion coloured wings, was the first to enter the temple, and the first to see her. The others quickly appeared at her sides as the girl cried out in shock, clasping her hands over her mouth and stumbling backwards. The rest of the search party followed suit similarly, gasping and yelling as they laid eyes on her.

Panic quickly returned to light Pearl’s nerves ablaze and replace the small shred of hope that had been building when she’d first heard them approach. She tried to speak again once more and found that her throat, terribly dry despite being choked with sludge moments ago, could only produce a croak that tore into her vocal cords like shards of glass. Tears formed in her eyes as another drop of sludge fell to the floor in front of her. She could see on their terrified faces and through their hushed whispers to each other that she had only moments to plead her case.

Desperately, Pearl gestured behind her where she knew the silver crown had dropped from her hand, unsure what she expected to happen but hoping they would notice it nonetheless. Something, anything. Instead, what she said was a conveniently placed pile of ash that just so happened to create a perfect ring shape. Pearl wailed in frustration, the sensation ripping through her throat.

“Oh my void, she’s a monster!” one of her flockmates, a girl about her age with pretty amber wings, shrieked through tears as she clung to her friend. As soon as Pearl took a single step forward, she knew it was over. The other girls all screamed and ran as fast as their feet could take them out of the temple, each clamouring to be the first to escape.

On wobbly legs, Pearl followed them, chasing just as desperately she did that melody in the darkness. She couldn’t let her hope run away from her.

One of the slower girls dared to look back and screeched to the others, “She’s following us!” Those who had exited the temple now scrambled to take flight, pausing only to pull the last of their flockmates along with them into the sky. They had already risen high into the sky by the time Pearl made it out, the tall grass beneath them entirely trampled in their haste. Purple flowers lay pathetically: half-lodged in dirt, disregarded. Pearl’s eyes darted upwards at her fair-weather friends and she grit her teeth, determined to fly after them despite her badly aching body.

Pearl jumped and flapped her thin wings uselessly, embarrassingly unacquainted with the new protrusions on her back. She managed to hover in the air for only a moment before she came crashing down onto herself, her already bruised limbs now meeting solid ground. She didn’t try to get up again.

Instead, Pearl lay there in the dirt, shivering and crying unabashedly into her arms as her flitty wings twitched, unable to do anything as her flockmates abandoned her as quickly as they’d found her. When she’d finally mustered up the resolve to lift her head up, she was greeted with a single amber feather that had fallen just inches away from her.

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Pearl had gone silent in front of Grian, her words now replaced with shaky breaths and sniffles. He finally let go of her hair and let it fall against her back, having finished braiding it long ago.

“Pearl?” He asked gently. “Are you okay?” She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he used the opportunity to slide himself beside her. Soft blankets crumpled around him. A simple glance revealed what he already knew: quiet tears were streaming down her face. She turned her head away from him to wipe them, suddenly aware he could see them now.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Pearl breathed. She faced him again, unable to hide the smile that creeped up into her cheeks when she saw his silly worried expression. “Honest.”

“Are you sure? We can stop now if you want-”

“Griba,” Pearl interrupted. “I want to tell you. I don’t think there’s anyone on this planet who deserves to know more than you. Will you let me do that?” Grian’s shoulders relaxed.

“Of course, yeah.” He looked sheepish. “Sorry.” Pearl elbowed him playfully.

“It’s alright, mate. Really. It’s been on my mind for a while now.”

“So… what happened next?” Grian asked. Pearl took a breath before continuing.

“Well, for starters, I had to get all that muck off me. So I took a little dip in the nearest river. I don’t blame them for not recognizing me at first, now. It stained my hair and clothes black for a while. I still looked like a completely different person by the time I went back to camp.”

“You went back?”

Pearl laughed. “What choice did I have? There was no place for me there anymore, I knew that, but there wasn’t exactly a place for me anywhere else, either. So I went back. They… I’m not quite sure they knew what to do with me. They tolerated me, which was all I could have ever asked for at that point. Well. Pretended to tolerate me. But that was all I needed. I could tell as soon as I got there that everyone already knew everything they needed to. How the other kids had found me, that I was a… moth.” She paused for a moment, sniffling again.

“Everyone was gathering up to leave camp. By the time I got there, they’d already begun to pack their things, so I did the same. We always travelled light, of course, but I can’t tell you how happy I was to finally get myself a change of clothes. I was wearing my favourite dress that day, you know? Green, with lovely droopy shoulders and little bits of gold to match my wings. And it was ruined, covered in nasty muck and drenched in river water, just like the rest of me. I think I burned it. The night they all left.”

Grian tilted his head to the side, trying not to intrude on her space but wanting to be closer nonetheless. He thought of the choice he had made all those years ago, the look on his little brother’s face when it happened. A hand grasped tightly in his own, wings wrapped even tighter. He imagined Pearl in his place. To be loved one minute and left behind all the same. “You didn’t have any family in your flock?” As soon as the question left his lips, he regretted it.

Pearl winced, her face scrunching up. Another tear dropped down her cheek. “I did.”

Grian looked as though he was about to give her a million apologies, but instead, he silently wrapped his wing around her, brushing his feathers against her shoulder as if to say, I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.

Pearl continued. “I did try to leave with them, don’t get me wrong. By then, I had actually figured out how to fly a little with these things.” She spread her wings out for a moment before flattening them out again.

“But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t keep up with them normally, not by a long shot, and especially not in the middle of a storm like the one that was raging that night. I would have never admitted it to myself back then, but I’m certain now that they left when they did very much on purpose. They wanted to make sure there was no way I could follow. And they were right, I couldn’t. I did make it farther than I thought I would’ve, higher too actually, but void, was the wind strong. I was tumblin’ around like a leaf in the air trying to keep up. I tried for a good long while until I just couldn’t anymore. And then I fell.” Grian pressed his lips together, his mind suddenly conjuring up another familiar image. Yellow feathers stained red, caught on tree branches and littered in the grass below. He knew all too well the consequences of an avian falling.

“I was one of the lucky ones, I guess you could say. My wings, flimsy as they were, — are —, were okay for the most part. It was my leg that took the blow the hardest. The break was pretty bad, I won’t lie to you. It was only another stroke of luck that saved me. There was a village nearby, barely visible from wherever I’d landed. But it was there. So, one more time, I chased it. I propped myself up on my good leg as best I could, and I was going to drag myself over to that darn village if it was the last thing I did.” Inexplicably to Grian, she giggled after she spoke. His expression said it all, and Pearl laughed again.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just thinking about it. I must’ve been quite a sight to those poor village folk! Covered in mud, leg twisted all the wrong way, soaking wet in the storm! I think that was the beginning of my whole ‘wet cat’ shtick, honestly.”

“Pearl, you could’ve died, I don’t think-” Grian began.

“I know I could’ve died!” she squawked, throwing her hands up. “But it just, I don’t know, it didn’t really scare me anymore. I didn’t want to die, mind you, but I had just kinda thought, well, I was going to live, or I wasn’t. Simple as that. And hey! Look at me now! I’m still kickin’, aren’t I?”

Grian couldn’t imagine it. All his life, above all else, he had been determined to survive. There wasn’t any other option. He'd tell himself he would live to see the Sun rise another day, and somehow, he would. Death was not something to come to terms with, shake hands with, tell I’ll see you later. It was something to fend off, teeth and soul bared, and triumph against despite all odds. There was simply too much life had to offer to him, and he would be a fool to refuse it.

“That you are, Pearl,” he smiled, poking her with his knee. Pearl returned the favour with an exaggerated kick to his shin with the leg she’d been swinging back and forth off the edge of her bed. Grian yelped dramatically.

“And don’t you forget it! Where was I? Oh, yes yes, the village. Well, I did make it over there in the end.” Pearl looked wistful. Grian waited patiently for her to continue again, but the moment never came. After a good long while, he spoke.

“...And then?” He asked.

“And then?” Pearl slinked her braid over her shoulder. It really was nicely done, each strand placed with clear care. “And then I met you, doofus. And Jimmy. And it was the best darn thing to ever happen to me.”

#boatem knights au #bkau #pearlescentmoon #my writing #grian #cw death #cw injury #cw body horror #skyblings

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meowzfordayz · 9 months

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shiny

Author’s Note: sooo this was supposed to be for a college au, secretly dating trope suggestion (as well as for an emergency request for fluff 😅)… but then The H*rny™️ hit 🥴, and uhh, it turned into its own lil thing. 😏

shiny

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, cream!pie, explicit language, Fem!Reader

~faqs~

“Sanemi, don’t you think she’s a little out of your league?”

Obanai’s stern tone does little to soften the reality behind his question, Sanemi once more reminded of why he can only watch—can only yearn—from a safe distance of ten physical feet, five invisible rungs on the social ladder, and one gigantic she-doesn’t-even-know-I-exist problem.

“Nobody’s out of my league,” Sanemi mutters, glare darkening with his trademark scowl, “She’s just shiny, is all. I’m easily distracted.”

“And that’s why you ignore me whenever she happens to be at the same dining hall as us,” Obanai snorts.

“Fuck-” Sanemi’s fork scrapes across his plate.

Raising an eyebrow, Obanai continues, “And also why you terrified those women away from their table.”

“-off,” fork stabbing loudly at his dry chicken.

“That just happened to be across from where she was sitting.”

“I said-” tearing sloppily into the overcooked meat.

Mask stretching as Obanai grins, he makes his final push, “And forgot to eat your food after she made eye contact with you.”

Mouth full, words muffled, “-f’ck ‘ff!”

“If nobody’s out of your league, then why don’t you say,”—in a breathy, squeaky voice—“Hi, I’m Sanemi!”

Swallowing his bite in a single motion, “I don’t talk like that,” Sanemi glowers, “Besides, shiny things lose their sparkle the moment you touch them.”

“Whatever man,” Obanai scoffs, “Shiny things also tend to hate crude assholes.”

“I’ll crude your fucking asshole.”

Eyes rolling, Obanai switches gears, “So Mitsuri and I-”

Only to be promptly interrupted, fork waved aggressively in his direction, “Don’t fucking start on your goddamn perfect love life.”

“Perfect?” Obanai huffs, whining now, “Dude, you know how long it took for-”

“If this is supposed to be a roundabout pep talk or offering of love advice,” Sanemi stands, half finished plate in one hand, steel grip around his glass with the other as he tilts his head back to chug the remainder of his lemonade, “Just fucking don’t.”

Waiting in lines isn’t your strong suit, fingernails rapidly tapping your lukewarm plate, droplets of water glistening under the too familiar lighting of the dining hall. You’d already scratched off the faint remains of someone else’s lunch, not bothering to search for a new, cleaner plate — they all had some sort of residue. Lifting your gaze to survey the people ahead of you, you’re immediately hindered by the tall, broad stature of a white haired man, the tension in his back muscles emphasized by the tightness of his moss green shirt. Sighing quietly, you notice his neck twitch, the curve of his biceps discernible as his arms—presumably—cross in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, chatter, clang, and hiss of lunchtime swallowing your attempt to get his attention, “Hellooo.”

Somehow, his biceps flex harder, fabric of his shirt’s armholes stretching to accommodate his strength.

“Um, alright,” you mutter, refocusing on your plate, fingernails returning to their tapping, “Never mind, I guess-”

“If you want, you can cut me.”

You blink, vision flashing to the Beautiful purple eyed man turning around to face you.

“Are they real?” you gush, cheeks warming, eyes squeezing shut before you can process any shame.

“Pardon?” a teasing, incredulous lilt lingers in his voice, “I can see, if that’s what you’re-”

“No, like, are they contacts?”

If it wouldn’t hammer the final nail on your coffin of embarrassment, you’d slap yourself right then and there.

“Open your eyes,” he speaks softer now, “I’m not wearing contacts.”

Eyes opening sheepishly, you stick out your free hand, “Nice to meet you, I apologize, you probably get the eyes thing a lot,” they’re too pretty for you to not.

“I’m Sanemi,” he responds evenly, your hand untouched as his jaw clenches, “Are you going to cut me or not?”

“Or not,” you reply quickly, nose scrunching as you glance away, hand dropping limply, “I can wait.”

“Your incessant tapping suggests otherwise,” he—Sanemi—grunts, “If you’re not gonna cut me, then at least be less annoying to everyone else in line.”

You snort, “Are you usually this combative?” pointedly ignoring his jab.

“Usually, I don’t offer up my spot in line.”

“So does that mean I’m special,” you grin now, eyes glittering at the way his brow furrows, “Or just extra annoying?”

“Extra annoying,” he deadpans, “Definitely extra.”

With a friendly pout, you lapse into silence, shuffling forward an insignificant amount, inwardly cursing whoever poorly planned the university budget to short staff the dining halls.

“Y’know, you look familiar.”

Sanemi shrugs, back turned once more to you, shoulder blades rippling with the motion, “Makes sense.”

“What, am I not original enough for you?” you grumble, cheeks warming again as he whips around to glare at you.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, “To be nice? To be annoying? Because I’m bored and hangry and this line seems to go on for forever?!”

Lips twitching, he slowly gestures in front of him, still glaring, “Cut me.”

“No!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before you can protest, he maneuvers himself behind you, impatience radiating from his body, lean muscles barely grazing your bare arms, goosebumps raising when he crosses his own, the view so much more defined from your new perspective. You’re too busy memorizing his physique to notice his reaction to your careful attention; too busy uttering his name under your breath, committing it to heart, to see the blush creep up his collarbones, his neck, his earlobes; too busy finally getting food to catch him opening, closing, then opening his mouth, a hushed And what’s your name? caught beneath hesitation and loneliness.

“Thanks Sanemi,” you say, waving cheerfully, “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

His response falters in his throat as he watches you leave, gaze swiveling to eventually—reluctantly—make eye contact with Obanai. Good effort! Obanai gives him a thumbs up, just as Sanemi groans lowly, flipping him off.

“Sanemi,” you whisper, fingertips walking warmly across his scars, smooth and sensitive to the touch, his breath catching at the light pressure, “Promise me you were sober.”

Body vibrating with quiet laughter, he catches your hand, lips gentle and wet as he kisses each of your fingertips, “I don’t drink,” eyes flitting over to your haphazardly tossed clothing, “And you?”

“I had one,” you murmur, lifting yourself to roll atop him, straddling his waist, thighs sweaty and soft, heat stirring in his groin at the familiar position, “Way before you arrived.”

“Waited for me, hm?” he chuckles smugly, gripping your hips, kneading into your skin, a strangled hiss tightening his lungs as his cum leaks from your slippery folds to his stomach, “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this.”

“And I didn’t think you threw parties,” you quip back, reveling in the filthy squelch of your languid grinding, his rigid abdominals flexing shiny and divine against the bump of your clit, “Till your roommate introduced himself, invited me over,” draping yourself over his chest, tits heavy and warm on his sternum, voice promising and heady in his ear, “I didn’t think I’d be getting fucked tonight.”

“Me neither,” Sanemi rasps, cockhead swollen and smearing precum against the plush of your ass, erect again, “Didn’t think you’d show up on my doorstep,” grasping your jaw to present your neck to his bared teeth, nipping greedily, “Looking so fucking gorgeous, like you were begging for someone to devour you,” tongue swiping flat and messy at the hollow of your throat, his hips bucking upward for friction, “Good thing I found you first, hm? Good thing I got to your pretty mouth, to your beautiful cunt, before some other fuck.”

“Sanemi,” you whimper, tugging your head down slightly, just slightly enough to see the dangerous, hazy glint in his purple stare, “W-wasn’t here to f-fuck anyone.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” he teases lightly, releasing your jaw with a final, tender kiss to your chin, “Had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw you, laughing with your friends in the dining hall, that incredible smile of yours knotting my stomach,” swallowing thickly, dangerous edge fading as quickly as it surfaced, feather soft confession taking its place, “I must’ve become absolutely insufferable,” snorting amusedly, “If Obanai intervened.”

“I forgot to tell you my name,” you admit sheepishly, beginning your own parade of sloppy, heated kisses across the sheen of his collarbones, exertion from his first orgasm still evident, “Thought I missed my shot,” reaching behind you for his cock, deft thumb circling his tip, grinning at his unabashed moan, “Wondered how I could possibly recover from such an encounter with your mesmerizing hair and brilliant eyes,” winking playfully as you squeeze his cock, earning a halfhearted scowl, “Your gentlemanly gesture of saving me from my hanger.”

“Want to feel you again,” is your only warning, and then he’s bullying his cock between your folds, whining sharply as his tip nudges in, rhythm shallow and wanton, gradually stuffing himself further and further into your honeyed, dripping hole, “Fuck,” he grits out, your ass so perfect and weighted atop him, “You feel so fucking good.”

“Is this all you want?” you ask quietly, question nearly lost in the broadness of his chest, pussy clenching tight and overwhelmed around him.

“This?” he manages to scoff, his exasperated, adoring eyes meeting your unsteady, wide gaze, “‘Course not, I want to get to know you, your favorite color, how you look in the morning, what buttons I can push, when to say I’m sorry,” repetitive, gentle grunts underlying his reassurance as he continues thrusting torturously slow, “I’ve got a devastating crush on you, you idiot, so why the fuck would this be all I want?”

“Well you did just call me an idiot,” you giggle, back arching into his movements, his eyes glimmering at the display of your breasts.

He huffs, “Learn it or hate it, but s’my love language.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying this love language,” you drawl, grabbing onto his shoulders, sweat trickling shiny and subtle as you readjust yourself, “I guess I could adapt to ~odd pet names too.”

As Sanemi’s pace hastens, second climax coaxed harsh and unrelenting from your body, he slips one hand from your hip to your sex, palm pressing strong and intense on your clit, the most stunning wail tearing feral and needy across his bedroom as you cum on his cock, thighs squeezing the air from his lungs, fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, neck faintly mottled with the aftermath of his love biting.

Sunlight glows weakly through his blinds, the quiet pulse of your breaths preventing Sanemi from wiggling even an inch, too afraid of shattering the stillness of his dream. Your leg’s slotted comfortable and trusting between his own, fingers pressing soft dots into his chest, a sensation he wishes he could bottle for a rainy day. Thankful for his lack of drinking, and thus, lack of a hangover, his eyes blink closed, basking in the recollection of your unexpected passion, the shine of moonlight on your naked figure, the curve of your smile, hot and welcoming against his mouth.

“So how do I look in the morning?”

Your sleepily murmured question startles him, the uptick in your breathing having gone unnoticed, too deep in his reminiscence. Head tilting to better see you, he smirks fondly, gaze more serene without the exhaustion of the day settled in yet.

“Like you just woke up,” he says nonchalantly, nevertheless breaking into an endeared smile, muscular arm tugging you closer to him, so close you can see the flecks of muted silver in his irises.

“Hm, thank gosh it’s Saturday,” you yawn, limbs stretching in his embrace, toes finding purchase on his ankles, “I definitely did not set an alarm.”

“What dumbass would throw a party on a weekday?”

“Not you,” you retort sweetly, dramatically batting your eyelashes, “You’re not a dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Already?” you wink lazily, “Don’t men have a refractory period or something?”

“I only came once last night,” he nearly pouts, hiding his expression in your sunwarmed hair.

“Right,” you chuckle, tender memories of being carefully wiped clean, and then snuggling into him, promptly passing out, floating contentedly through your vision, “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing enough to do this again?” his voice hardens, somehow moving further from you even as his body doesn’t move.

“Didn’t I already ask you that?” you reply gently.

“Yeah.”

Nose crinkling, you poke at his cheek, humming confidently, “I may not have had a devastating crush on you, but I obviously I like you, idiot.”

“Yeeeah,” he sighs.

“So we’re doing this again,” you remark plainly.

“Good,” he finally grins.

“Good,” you grin.

“Ugh,” he scowls, pretending to push you away, only to quickly pull you back into his embrace, pulse thrumming at the momentary distance.

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” you singsong, lightly tucking a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, cooing at its immediate redness, “You think Obanai heard us?”

“Fuck,” Sanemi grimaces, suddenly dreading his next conversation with his best friend.

“Poor guy,” you laugh, tone laced with mock sympathy, “Probably regrets inviting me.”

Shrugging, Sanemi pecks your forehead, voice gravelly as he mutters, “Nah, fuck him.”

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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ja3hwa · 6 months

Text

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎: 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 - 𝐂.𝐉𝐇 ♡

Out Of This World

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : You were gifted an alien plant from one of your friends that lived off the planet since you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 3.17k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Sci-Fi. Galatic Heroes Au. Smut. Fluff.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Enchanted!Jongho x Assassin!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Crying. Making out. This is slightly dub-con. Neck kisses. Hickies. Possessiveness. Slight toxic thoughts. Breast play. Begging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Lots of emotion.

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“Hey so has anyone seen Peach? we’re about to leave.” Seonghwa was walking around like a worried mother, trying to find you before you all were supposed to leave for this event thingy they had agreed to attend. You weren’t in the mood for parties or galas at any time of day or night. So you disappearing before one wasn’t a surprise.

“I’ll go look for her, shes probably in her room trying to find a place for that new plant Wooyoung gave her from off planet.” Jongho rolled his eyes knowing his best friend all too well, heading straight for your room which was situated on the same level as his in the compound. A couple of days ago Wooyoung had returned from his trip back from to home planet and had gifted everyone with something from there. So of course you being a planet lover. He brought you one of the exotic flowers. Yeosang pestered on how ‘we don’t know what that plant could do. Is it even safe’ but Wooyoung reassured everybody that it was fine. And that he had no clue what the plant was anyway. So with that Jongho said he’d catch up with them and take his bike later with you rather than making them wait.

While this ordeal was unravelling you were frantically holding the said flower in a beautiful pot that Wooyoung had gifted you along with it. You had so many plants as it is that you’ve realized there was no room for the newest addition. A knock at your door startled you almost to the point of dropping the poor guy all over the floor. But luckily your reflexes kicked in quicker than usual. “Come in!”

You knew it was most likely someone like Seonghwa or Hongjoong coming to parade you about ‘getting ready for the gala’ but you seriously didn’t want to go. It wasn’t like you hated your friends or the party per se. You just hated people in general. And why you may ask? Because people are loud, rude, narcissistic and most importantly stuck up. Half the time people love to walk all over you because of your job. Given you and the others were galactic rangers, people only looked at you in two different views. Scum that brought danger to earth. Or these kind of saviours, superheroes. Something you didn’t consider yourself as. So either way, you didn’t want the interaction. So staying home it is.

“Give me one good excuse why you are still in your pyjamas running around like an idiot holding an alien plant and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider you not going to this lame party a good enough reason.” Jongho’s voice brought you to a halt, your head snapping back down towards the little Kitchen/Entrance. Your nose was scrunched up, making Jongho know you were trying to think of a lie. You were never good at them always having a tell clear as the day. He just scoffed, slipping his shoes off so he could walk into your room. “So, what’s your excuse, Honey?”

“It’s uhh…” You half smiled, tip-toeing toward the large male. “I need to find a spot for my son.” You shove it in his face in an almost innocent manner. Jongho held in his chuckle, staring at the strange purple-looking plant. He had to tilt his head, noticing it was moving almost like it was breathing. Shaking off the weird thought his gaze looked back up to your wide eyes, the sparkles in the corner of them made his heart flutter. You loved nature so much, from the simplest things like flowers and fruits to the weirdest in Jongho’s opinion, Moss, Fungi and vines.

“Son?” He had to chuckle.

“Yes, my son. Isn’t he pretty? I need to find a spot for him.” You brought the plant to your chest inspecting him with such innocent eyes. Oh, what Jongho would give for you to look at him like that. You were perfect in every way. Even if you are shy, introverted. You smiled at everyone, making any of your teammates feel like they were the centre of your attention. But every time you gave him that same smile, he felt like he was the centre of your world. Like nothing else mattered but you two and your longing stares. Maybe his crush on you has gotten out of hand and maybe he should just ‘man up’ as San puts it and tell you how he feels.

But he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like that. Like he could do no wrong. That he wasn’t a monster, an outsider. Like he thinks he is. No, your smile would just say he was one thing. Human.

“Well, I guess you’ll need to name your son too.” Jongho steps a little closer to you, now both staring down at the plant with the beautiful purple and gold patterning on its petals. You hummed in response beginning to think of all the stupid names you could give it but then something strange began to happen. The plant swayed, but there was no breeze. Its leafs wrapping slowly around the stem and then slowly squishing itself down. What was it doing? You knew it was an alien plant but this was definitely not something a plant should do… right?

“Has it done that before?” Jongho asks.

“No It’s onl―” Your words were cut off when a bright purple powder suddenly exploded from the plant landing straight onto your and Jongho’s faces. From the reaction, you dropped the plant, making the soil go everywhere on the floor by your feet. You hissed at the pollen-like substance sticking to your eyes. you could hear Jongho also groan in protest, more likely from the same thing.

“What the fuck!?” Jongho yelled. “I’m going to kill Wooyoung I swear to god.” He manages to get the sticky purple dust out from his eyes, letting him open them to see you cowering with your fingers desperately trying to get the dust off you. “Honey, hey… come here.” His hands cupped your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe away all the dust he could.

“Why is everything purple?” You blinked a couple of times noticing your surroundings were tainted in a violet-like hue. Jongho didn’t want to scare you but he too had the same view. He helped guide you to the sink in the kitchen, putting the tap on so he could splash some water on yours and his face. The purple slowly went away but the hue was still slightly there. Drying your face with some paper towel you suddenly felt an odd shiver pour down your spine. You gulped, having a hot flush start to wash over you as if someone turned up the AC. You took a step back leaning against the countertop, trying your best to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“Are you okay Honey?” You looked up from the floor to see Jongho with rigged breathing. His nostrils were flared and his mouth was slightly agape. He had a fire burning in him, making all his blood go straight to his cock. Eyes hazy, and voice deep and growled. He sounded like a predator coaxing his prey.

“I…I don’t know.” You had no clue how to explain with you felt but all your mind could understand was that you needed something, someone to help get rid of the pain. A sharp stab pierces your chest making you hiccup before falling onto the floor. Jongho was quick to meet you on the ground, gripping onto your arm holding you up. His touch sent sparks to your dripping core. You needed him. “J-Jongie I need help…”

Your whimper made Jongho groan, shaking his head in an attempt to suppress his needs. He couldn’t think straight, only thinking about what your pussy could feel like. No, you’re his friends! His friend that he had the biggest crush on. But no, he can’t just pin you down this very floor and fuck the life out of you… right? “H-honey, please. Do you know what kind of plant that is?”

“Woo said uh, it…it was a samfar? Samfarir?” You tried to remember the conversation you had with Wooyoung when he gave you the plant but your mind kept wondering to… other things. you layed down on the cold tiles in the hope you could cool yourself down. Jongho had let go of you leaning against the cabinet along the wall. He sighs, raking his fingers through his damp hair. He knew what this plant was.

“Fuck… That fucking dick. It’s a sex plant.” Jongho’s words made your eyes snap open, sitting up to look at him in a what the fuck did you say expression. “It’s a plant from his home planet that is supposed to help intercourse. But they stopped the practise cause of one downside.”

“What…What's the downside Jongho?!” You sat on your knees, placing your hand on his hot thigh. Your innocent touch alone made his cock twitch. His eyes met yours and the temptation to kiss you was becoming increasingly difficult.

“You don’t have sex. You die.” He said it bluntly. “I found out from a conversation San was having with him. Asking if there was something to help boost his sex life. Typical…” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Now there was a stalemate cause lets face it as much as he wants to, he wasn’t about to ask if you wanna fuck. How would he even ask such a question? And plus his crush on you doesn’t help him in this situation. He watched you wiggle, feeling your pussy begin to drip through your shorts. God, he could smell you too. Everything was making his hair stand up. Your scent, your heavy pants, the way your eyes were glossed, practically begging him to do something, anything.

“If that’s the case…” You trailed off, scooting close to him, placing your free hand on his forearm. He suddenly jumped, pushing himself away from you making you flinch. You didn’t want this either. You were so in love with Jongho since the first day you met and, you did not expect this to be the way you’d be intimate with him. But him pushing away from you hurt so much. You put your hands in your lap feeling your heartbreak. Maybe he thought death was better than having sex with you.

“Hey wait I uh…” Jongho saw the panic in your eyes, seeing tears start to form, moving back to grab your hands, making you look at him. “I didn’t mean…fuck. Uh. I don’t know wha…” Jongho cut himself off with a hitch. You look so desperate, your tongue sticking out to lick your lips slightly. His hands gripped tighter on yours, forgetting all of his past thoughts, past restraints. You and he can just talk later right? “Fuck.”

He cupped your face, smashing his lips on yours. It was single-handedly the best kiss you’ve ever experienced. His tongue slipped inside quickly, attacking your own. He drew out moans from you that he thought he’d never hear. Your fingers intertwine with his jacket. He was forceful, pushing you down onto the cold hard floor, pushing his thigh between your legs so he could brush it against your core. The pressure was the relief you needed, bucking your hips without a second thought. Everything was happening so quickly but neither of you cared anymore. “J-Jong…”

Jongho swallowed your words, biting down on your bottom lips before pulling away, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from you. There were no words shared, no, only your bodies spoke. Telling one another you needed the other. Your hands ran up his biceps, digging into the leather on him. He kisses the corner of your mouth before slipping down towards your jaw, then neck, before stopping on your collarbone sucking harshly. His teeth grazed your shoulder, using his left hand to help tug down your shirt slightly so he could sink his K-nines into your skin. He didn’t want this to be a memory by the end of it. He needed to leave evidence on your body to show you and himself that this was indeed real and it was happening. Your hips hadn’t stopped there slow grind against his thigh, making his light jeans deepen in colour from your wetness. His hand moved from your shoulder, gliding down to your hem. He tugged it at first seeing how loose it was before getting his other hand to pull the opposite way ripping the fabric in half.

“Pretty.” he sat on his calves, seeing the laced black bra you were sporting. Your chest rose and fell at each breath making him bite his lip and eyes darken. You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. All his late-night wet dreams, fucking his fist at the sheer thought of you would never compare to what his gaze met with now. And he never wanted to let it go. You were going to be his whether you liked it or not. He took his shirt all as well before diving back into your kissing along your breasts before pulling down your bra letting your tits spill over the top. You did have time to say anything before he latched his mouth on your hard nipple, while his thumb rolled over the other.

You cried, feeling tears prickle against the corner of your eyes. You moaned his name over and over, trying to find any type of pressure to heal the ache from below. It was like his mind knew your body, noticing the sign of plea. He gave one last suck on your nipples before pulling away with an audible pop. Your eyes opened slightly to see his dark pair staring at you with intensity. It was like he was scanning your body making sure to remember every scar, beauty mark, freckle and stretch mark so he could reply this event later in his mind. His hand cupped your mould feeling heat pooling from it. If it wasn’t for the plant clouding your judgment, you’d most definitely be embarrassed. But you didn’t so all you did was buck your hips into his hand, spreading your legs more for him to have his way with you.

“Please. I’m yours Jongho. Do something. Anything to me. Have me, however you want. Just please make it stop hurting.” your words made Jongho stop for a moment, even though this plant affected both of you, it seemed that his mind was more clearer than yours. His enhancements must be helping him from completely losing his mind. His face was inches from yours, gripping your chin with his fingers, making you focus on him. He needed to confess before he continued, even if neither of you believed it and blamed the plant afterwards. He needed to tell you what he felt.

“I love you, Honey. I’ve loved you since you arrived as a new recruit. I’m so madly in love half the time I don’t know what to do without you being by my side. And I swear to fucking god, I’ll take you out and treat you like the queen you are afterwards but for now, I’m going to fuck you like our lives depend on it.” He sealed his lips on yours once last time before sitting up to pull your pants down.

“Our lives do depend on it.” you halfheartedly chuckled, groaning at the cool air blowing on your bare cunt. He threw your pants across the room, unzipping his and pulling them down enough to pull his cock out. You gulped at his size, knowing he must be big but he was…definitely big. He placed his hand on the base of his cock while the other snaked the back of your neck, bringing your bodies close together. Your breath was mixing together and your eyes never left his, brows knitting slowly as you felt his tip push against your soaked hole. “I love you… I love you so much.”

“Fuck.” he bottomed you out making you hiss at the pain since neither of you prepped. But the pain was short-lived as he started thrusting slowly. His head fell into the crook of your neck letting you wrap your arms around his broad back. Your nails dug in harder with each snap of his hips. His cock was hitting all the right places, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit perfectly and his balls hit your ass with each moan and gasp that slipped off your tongue. Everything was overwhelming yet perfectly balanced at the same time. You cried, not just from the intense pleasure but from Jongho’s words previously. Your purple-hued vision slowly became normal and your mind unfogged.

The plant's influence slowly left your and Jongho’s system leaving just your raw feelings for one another. Neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to run. You were perfectly content in each other's arms. Locking your lips in a non-verbal seal of love. You were his and he was yours whether either of you voiced that neither of you cared. You only cared for his body caging you on the hard cold floor while he only needed your cunt to keep squeezing him before you both were coming undone. It was sticky, messy, loving and raw. And it was just the way you both dreamed it would be.

-♥︎

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thelunarsystemwrites · 20 days

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Oops-

I accidentally became moots with a lot of cool undertale/UTMV artists-

*inhale*

@nobodys-reblogs Like, you were my first idol on here that I befriended 🥺 AND NOT BECAUSE YOU WERE MY IDOL- you legit just seemed cool, and I am very VERY grateful each time I see '#friend tag' with you!! I also love your style, it gives a sense of comfort because of the shades you normally use!! (<- psstt I also like your doors content!)

@inka-boi I love the way you draw chubby and plus sized people, literally helped with my own drawings of different body types! You're also super nice. And well, my mum—I love the purple yarn family, I live for the purple yarn ship, you're super sweet!

@zombiestar1934 Uhm, yeah—Yoink. Your art is very yoinkable, VERY HUGGABLE!! Looks like it was drawn in a library, where you had the peace of only hearing your drawing tablet make 'lil clicks! I love the hearts you add to blush, and the smiles you give them! Yet you're just as capable of making angst, and I love Angst :3

@absurdumsid I want to hug all, and I mean ALL your drawings. ESPECIALLY horrorpills, I love the clean look they all have, I love looking at your art, and I just- aghghgh your so cool!!

@italic-doing-random-shit man you're just very awesome, idk how the hell I manged being moots w/ you but I'm vibing with it, your art is like, yum. It gives me, hm... Oh! Okay it gives me animatic vibes, like you'd be a good animator! /pos!

@inkcat1987 AWE. JUST AWE—I love how sweet your style is, and I'm especially liking the middle school AU!! Once again, soft as angel wings!

@axinfinity there's just- there's something so HOLDABLE about your art! I just wanna pick it up and protect it!

@ant1quarian ah yes, a fellow UTMV enjoyer who collects a very specific sans, that being Dust in your case! /vpos. Your style, it's like moss. It has a natural feel, it looks like it'd smell like rain, like feathers and it's so... like this song, The Moss is how I feel when I look at your pfp!

@dzasterdumpterfire Stars. Your art looks like stars, I'm fairly sure the lighting comes from the stars. I dunno it's just kinda mystifying to look at!

@endless-emptyness Your art >>>> Very pleasant to look at. I really enjoy the facial expressions you do!!

@solusminds your art feels like it was crafted in the cozy darkness, illuminated only by a single lantern, while winter blazes outside. It's so nice and warm feeling!

@kiyo-void A lovely painting! All your works feel like they were painted, painted and set in a cool breeze to dry, especially your digital art, and I am LIVING for it! Plussssss Runetale is super cool!

@iatetheglue YUM it looks so squishable, so fluffy!! I love your art!

@denieatsart HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE that's how I feel looking at what you make!! I love the kinda like, layered look your art gives!!

@largefound can't say a bad thing about ya, you're cool, your art gives cool feelings, cool vibes everywhere!

Annd... it's late, I can't think of anyone else BUT IF I DO I will ADD YOU to the list!!

UPDATED:

@rushin-safire. Yeah, your art? Feels like it was drawn with a cat in your lap while you've just come home from the Cafe, still sipping on your coffee. :3

@nashdoesstuff for the LIFE OF ME I can't figure out how the hell to search your art, hpw am I screwing it up?? But anyways it probably tastes like gummy bears. /pos.

@nightmarish-qeuwusha Your art tastes like cotton candy! I think that your art was woven from candy floss and glittered with stardust! ^^

@analexthatexists Containment! I feel like your art gives off SCP vibes, I feel like I'm some sort of entity when I look at it, and that, is, awesome!

@determinedfanartist okay but like, your art is "I drew this specifically bc I love my friends" and I cannot be convinced otherwise. /pos

@mrfellsans Ah, cartoony. Specifically with that dapper charm to it! I'm talking bendy and the ink machine, I'm talking swing, I'm talking pleasant to look at as you have a modern spin on it!

@the-second-reason your art is that chill older kid, the one that helps ou their younger peers figure out stuff. They're the super relaxed big sibling, your art has a mellow style, gives chill big sibling vibes. :]

@dustsansm1 I mean this in the best way possible, your art feels friendly but has anxiety. And that's okay! Your art gives me like, it wants to be friends w/ someone but too shy to do so. It has a sorta 'I'm trying my best' style, when it's already really good!

@spookuzm cover artist! I feel like you'd do well drawing the characters that you put on the cover of stuff, your art vibes me those vibes! Like it's the peak inside a new world! ^^

@mellybabbles Reflections, your art makes me reflect on myself. What was behind it? Every line you etch into it makes me think, ponder, as if it were drawn from a mirror.

@wickjump ICON. Your art is SUCH an icon, you're RADIATING icon vibes. The colours you use seem to naturally give off a hue to it, giving it that pop! It's beautiful and clean and iconic! ✨️

Also, we may not be moots—But honourary mention to @somegrumpynerd you're my comfort artist, I go searching for Dadmare if I'm down and I find your art—I love how it just looks like the embodiment of Marshmallows. I love how you draw each and every scene you've made, the emotions you convey even if it's supposed to just be a silly post! Just ahhhhhh I love looking at what you make!!

Have a good day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you guys!

#Friends #moot #moots #art moots #mutuals #i love my moots #friend tag #artists on tumblr #artist support #artblr #artwork #You guys are all literally so awesome #Will update the list as time goes on!

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beansprean · 1 year

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Atlantis AU….. for @fanfic-fugue who asked the very important question what if a vampire fanboy with Van Helsing lineage led an expedition to an ancient lost vampire city no one thinks exists? And also Nandor had his tits out? 😈

(ID in alt and under cut)

1a. Background of an underground Persian palace of cracked stone and tile, overgrown with vines and moss and surrounded by pink silk trees. Closer to the viewer, beyond a plain that is half sand half meadow, is a double waterfall flanked by cracked stone pillars, pouring into a basin covered by a gulley of cypress trees. Closer still is a short set of fallen stairs leading down to a peaceful blue pond with floating lily pads and a massive cracked stone pillar set crooked in the ground. The pillar is coated in vines and algae and has a center ring of round protrusions capped by red gems, some of which are missing. Standing at the top of the ruined stairs are Guillermo and Nandor. Guillermo is dressed like Milo Thatch in an army green tank top, brown breeches, and stockings, a leather bag crossed over his chest and an old book tucked under his arm. He is reaching out towards the pillar with his free hand, smiling in fascination as he remarks, “Wow, this architecture is amazing!” Nandor stands behind him, arms tucked behind his back, and replies “I suppose. It looks like breasts.” Nandor is wearing a version of his usual layered kaftan in light purples and blues, a long dark blue sash with gold patterns draped over his shoulders and tucked into a leather belt at his waist. 1b. Full body drawing of Nandor in the same outfit, showing more detail like brown leather boots, the ancient-looking sword strapped to his belt, and the looser bun holding back his hair. Nandor is standing proud and upright, looking directly at the viewer with one hand on the hilt of his blade.

2a. Close up of Guillermo soaking wet and dripping, his tank top now translucent enough to see his nipples through. He is talking excitedly, almost manic, grinning and gesturing wildly with his hands at someone offscreen. There is a plain gold crucifix around his neck. 2b. Close up of The Guide dressed like Helga Sinclair in a long silk black evening dress, black gloves, ushanka, and fur stole, draped casually in a chair with legs crossed, the fur tucked into her elbows and one strap of the dress slipped down over her shoulder. She lifts one hand in a “what the heck?” gesture and says, “Guillermo de la Cruz… I sent, like, 50 ravens!!”

3a. Full body of Guillermo smiling confidently, holding up an old leather book with a red skull design, titled “Vampyr”. He is wearing a khaki colored sweater, brown breeches, stockings, button boots, and a long faded green coat. He has a leather bag strapped across his chest. 3b. Full body of Nandor stripped down to a tiny wrapped-cloth undergarment, standing with hip cocked flirtatiously, one arm stretched up to rest against the side of the image as he grins teasingly, one eyebrow cocked. He asks casually, “Do you swim?” 3c. Close up of Guillermo pausing in the act of pulling off his own shirt, clutching the hem with both hands at his breast line. He stares openly at Nandor, face tomato-red and shaking mouth struggling to form words, stuttering out, “I-I swim pretty guy- pretty good!!”

4. Nandor and Guillermo floating together underwater, Nandor in his cloth briefs and Guillermo in white boxers. They both have their hands placed on a cracked stone mural depicting an ancient bearded warrior on horseback, wielding a sword much like Nandor’s and a helmet and armor similar to the one his ghost wore in the show. Their hands touch against the stone and they turn to look at each other, Guillermo flushed and spilling bubbles between his lips, Nandor unbreathing with large liquid eyes. Guillermo’s crucifix is floating up in the water, shining bright gold. The entire scene is overlaid with teal and shining water effects, light piercing down at them in rays. /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis au #mlm #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #wwdits the guide #what we do in the shadows fx #what we do in the shadows #my art #fanart #image described

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 month

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Your Love, Like Birth and Death

cw. jjk faerie au, banshee!reader (she/her pronouns, afab), seelie prince!gojou, mutual pining but gojou's love is heavier, descriptions of blood and injuries

pairing. gojou x reader

notes. i should be working on the unseelie lord toji fic but this concept is still wracking my brain so y'all are getting this right now instead. lovesick faerie prince gojou for you, you and you! (also, spot the furuba and mirai nikki references lol.)

This Court is dyed in the colors of Life, you note this particular morning.

Of course, this is something you’ve noted every morning since you’d been brought to this palace nearly a month ago. Yet you aren’t tired of noting it.

The Court you have found yourself in is beautiful. From the ledge you lean against, it almost feels like you can see everything in Faerie.

You see the royal gardens, a mass of long grasses and moss dotted by colorful wild blooms. Overgrown and yet each flower seems right where it is supposed to be.

Beyond the walls of the castle, you see stretches and stretches of blue spruces and just beyond that a lake that almost seems purple. If this were a palace in Unseelie territory, you might have thought a kelpie lived in it.

Across the courtyard, souls living and deceased move as if in a dance. The living with their duties for the day, unaware of their ghoulish companions drifting about. Some have the ever permanent dribble of poisoned wines falling from their lips, others' have blood seeping into their clothes from their torsos and others are missing limbs although they find no difficult in moving.

The sight of death faeries is one that gruesome. A mixture of life and death, the path you folk walk on until you return to nothing.

Neat yet unkempt, wild yet tame, expected yet unexpected ー that is the beauty of Faerie you’ve grown accustomed to in the centuries since your creation.

A beauty you rarely have the opportunity to appreciate when you often find yourself in the realm of humans, heralding death.

You wonder how much time has passed there since you’ve come to the Court of Reckoning. All while the skies have lost the traces of violet, peach and marigold that painted the dawn skies and have begun settling into a lovely shade of pastel blue.

“I see I’ve finally found you,” when you look over your shoulder, it’s one of the prince’s advisors that greets you. The one with the long raven-black hair and brown eyes that remind you of humus-rich soil. You see the makings of a black tail with a tuft of fur peeking from his cloak and believe him to be some sort of phouka. “I almost thought for a moment our honored guest had disappeared,” his voice is light and airy, but he seems relieved to an extent. “I’m glad my concerns were proven untrue. Satoru would be quite unmanageable if that were the case.”

You shake your head, smiling politely, “I enjoy watching dawn turn into morning.” You look at the large bouquet in the phouka’s hands ー an assortment of lavender roses, baby’s breath and ferns.

“Our prince is too busy to deliver these himself this morning,” Suguru explains once they’ve caught your eye. You make sure to not let your fingers brush against one another when you reach for the blooms carefully. “Love at first sight, purity and fascination it is supposed to symbolize,” the advisor recounts the meaning of each bloom dutifully. He’s exasperated, you can tell. “Do you like them?”

“Yes, they’re quite lovely,” you believe so truly. Everyday since your arrival to the palace, the prince has had bouquet after bouquet gifted to you. Even if he cannot deliver them himself. “As were the rest I’ve received.”

“I’ve never seen Satoru so smitten,” you avoid the phouka’s gaze. “You should have met him when we were younger. He was adamant that he’d never be besotted with anyone lest he become a fool.” There’s a light pause as Suguru recalls the evening Satoru brought you to this palace. You who are cloaked in death and all of her colors. “Look at him now. He’s certainly caused a stir in his insistence you’ll be his queen. He’s a charming fool, though, I am sure.”

You prefer to think of the prince as a ridiculous fool but you cannot deny that he is charming. Dangerously so. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought him to be a gancanagh, a love-talker.

“Please marry me,” came the soft request as sky blue eyes stared into your very being. “And I’ll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise.”

You try not to remember the way your chest clenched in surprise. How you were so surprised it almost felt like your skin had warmed. It’s best not to focus on that memory at all.

It’s a ridiculous notion, a seelie prince in love with a banshee.

“The prince is simply confusing gratitude with love,” you return Suguru’s gaze with a polite smile. You hope he believes you. “He’ll realize that soon and I will leave this place.” You know that will bring palace staff a great sense of peace. If there is one thing you’ve learned in your long life as a banshee it is that even if the Folk spurn mortals and their blink-of-an-eye lifespans, there are many things faeries and humans have in common.

A fear of death is certainly one of them.

As such, to the vast majority of faeriekind, Death Folk like yourself are not looked upon favorably. Banshee and dullahans alike, you’re more like pests in their eyes.

You banshee women who scream and keen if death is near.

The dullahans who hear those screams and arrive when that final hour has approached.

Yes, you know how death fae are viewed. You’ve heard the whispers in the palace, how you are an omen of malevolence to come. That your kind are like roaches. Should one appear, others will soon follow suit.

This is why you’ve come to appreciate this private ledge on the castle walls that receives less foot traffic than the rest. You’d rather the staff of the palace have peace of mind in your absence while you live in the palace even if their prince insists you can venture the halls as much as you’d like.

Once the promised revel he hopes to throw in your honor comes to pass, you know the prince will lose his interest in you. Then you will leave and continue about your existence until you fade into nothing but a vague memory in his subconscious.

That's what you truly hope when you see the prince in question later on in the day for lunch in the garden.

How his eyes light up and he stands to his feet as Cypress, a lovely pixie tasked with being your attendant, announces your arrival. How he doesn't even wait for you to reach the table before he comes to meet you. You are unused to being treated like royalty and yet their prince insists that you are. "You won't believe how the old hags go on and on," he sighs, remnants of annoyance dancing in his tone but his voice is soft with you. Cypress takes the dismissal in stride. "I couldn't even come see you for breakfast. Did you like the flowers?"

He wraps your hands in his own large palms, seemingly unaffected by your corpse-cold skin, as he has done every time you've met since your arrival. "Yes, they were beautiful," your smile is small and doesn't quite reach your eyes. You hope this ridiculous yet charming fool realizes that loving one such as yourself is more trouble than good. That his love truly is just misplaced gratitude. "You really don't have to send me flowers every morning."

The prince disregards your words the way water rolls off the back of a duck, "next time I'll bring you the flowers myself." He guides you to the table filled to the brim with food you aren't accustomed to eating. "Will you tell me your favorites finally? I've been going out on a limb with my guesses."

"My tastes in flowers are unique, to say the least," maybe it's your nature, but your favorites tend to circle around the prevailing theme of your kind. Lavender to give the dead peace in passing on, calendula for blessing and love. Dandelions in the seed head stage were quite popular with ghost children, still finding them just as amusing as they did when they were alive. "The flowers you send me are more than enough." The prince pouts but he decides to let you skirt around his request once more. You bring focus back to the spread, "it looks like you've demanded everything in the kitchen."

There are strawberry-and-whipped cream filled pastries, cold cut platters and buttery biscuits to name a few things. The tip of the iceberg of everything on the table.

"I wanted to make sure our bases were covered," the prince grins, teeth as white as his hair. "I hope you like lavender chamomile, that's today's tea. I've never had it before." He drops cube after cube of sugar into his cup, drizzles the contents with honey before finally pouring in a splash of cream.

You take your tea plain and enjoy the gentle fragrance. Lavender buds are just barely visible below the tea's surface. You close your eyes as the flavor hits your tongue. It tastes as wonderful as it smells. "Yes, this is quite nice. I really like it."

"Should we have it for tomorrow as well?" He's too eager to curry your favor.

You open your eyes to dissuade him but your attention is instead drawn to a headless hob nearing your table. You've seen this hob before, skirting about the palace bitterly as he carries his head in his hands much like a dullahan. He's old, even by fae standards, with a long beard. There's no question as to how the man died, beheading. You hope it was quick.

His beady eyes glare at you with a quiet rage similar to how most fae spirits do. You wonder how long he has been like this, refusing to board the carriage of any dullahan that may come to collect him and bring him to the Otherworld.

You personally believe that faeries leave behind ghosts more than humans do.

It's why you've often seen ghosts from a distance at revels, dancing from dawn til dusk even if they will not be perceived by the living. Even if they can no longer don the fancy dresswear they were able to dress in.

Time and time again, they will do this. Staunchly refusing death even after they're already in its hold.

"Oh, is there a ghost with us?" The prince notes how your eyes dart between him and the space he perceives as empty. "What's it saying?"

"Tell this lout that I sooner hope his rule is contemptuous and brings the Court to ruin!" The hob's head seethes. "That his many days are fraught with danger! Gakuganji is my name and this is the curse I cast upon him!"

Folk can't lie, but you you prefer not to relay the bitter message. "He hopes your rule is one that is," you lick your lips and raise your cup to your lips. "Filled with exciting thrills," not an exact lie. Perhaps to this radical prince, those sorts of threats are exciting. "He says his name is Gakuganji."

"Exciting thrills, you say?" The prince barks in amusement, shoulders shaking with his laughter. "That doesn't sound like the traitorous scoundrel I know. You don't have to lie, he's probably cursing me and my bloodline for generations to come as we speak." The hob growls at the lackadaisical nonchalance of the elf. But it seems he has had his fill as he stomps off before he can hear more insult to his person.

"Gakuganji has lost his touch even in death," the prince's amused chuckles turn into light sighs "You wouldn't have liked him very much when he was alive," you're sure you can agree with that much of the prince's words. Gakuganji, as you now know him, has been one of the more unpleasant spirits in the palace. "He was very stuck in his ways. What's it like, seeing ghosts all the time?"

Normal?

You can't quite remember what it was like when you were a newly-made banshee and everything was new. Nor can you remember the life you once led as a human. You simply remember your death was a terrible, terrible thing. "It's as normal to me as it's normal for you not to see them," you set your cup down. "If someone asked you what's it like to see the blue sky everyday, it would be a strange question, correct?"

The prince takes in your words thoughtfully, not slighted in the least. "I guess that's true," he nods to himself. "I just wondered if it was something that took some getting used to." The prince removes his darkened spectacles from the bridge of his nose. "I told you before I have pretty good eyes. I'm able to perceive a lot of things no one else can from mana to the shape of one's soul. But the spirits of the deceased are exceptions to my eyes, it seems."

"Your Highness," you begin.

"Satoru," the prince corrects you swiftly.

"Your Highness," you insist. This boundary you won't cross for yourself. "I'm not sure it's really wise for you to tell me about your eyes. I'm not a member of this family or your closest allies."

"But you will be," he tells you as if he's simply remarking on how pleasant the weather is. "I will become king of this Court and you'll be by my side as my queen." You're quite sure that if his mother, the High Queen, has anything to say about it, she'd sooner relinquish her throne to a random nixie than allow a banshee to wed her son. "I trust you as much as I trust Suguru or Nanami."

You wish he wouldn't.

A Seelie prince and his banshee queen? That sounds like the start to a ballad meant to insult him.

It's misplaced gratitude, not love. That's what this prince feels for you. You tell him as such once again as you have everyday since you were brought here. "You'll realize that soon, maybe even before the revel you plan for me," you whisper ー no, you pray. "There will be another you yearn for and you'll realize the difference."

The prince will fall deeply, truly, unapologetically in love with someone and he'll discover the truth.

Perhaps it will be a lake maiden of Spring whose dreadlocks drip with water droplets that fall onto dewy cinnamon-brown skin. Who sings of the beautiful red and pink of the roses and of love.

Or maybe it will be a selkie man who doesn't mind living far from the sea as he's brought a love as deep as the ocean along with him. Whose coat is donned in scars and scratches from battles past, a reflection of his form as a seal.

Or maybe he can grow enraptured with his phouka advisor whom he trusts more than anyone in this life.

Someone dyed in Life's colors.

Someone beautiful.

When that time comes, you'll be happy for him. Maybe then the ache that resonates through your heart and bones will end.

The prince isn't the only fool here, you admit reluctantly. You're just as much, if not more so. But this feeling will come to pass, "this is just gratitude. Fascination. Not love."

"You think I don't love you?" The prince asks quietly, resting his chin on his palm as he looks at you. He says he has good eyes, he wonder what you look like to him through them. You who once was dyed in Life's colors but have since become painted over by Death's brush.

Death folk with death folk.

Life folk with life folk.

"I know you don't," he can't. You can't allow either of yourselves to do so. "A banshee by your side as queen," you want it sound ridiculous to both of your ears. "It's absurd."

There are no rules that state your union is forbidden, this you know. But the laws of nature are simple. Life and Death co-exist separately, unable to exist without one another. But there has never been a tale where the two joined together as one.

Maybe you're just too scared to be the first.

"I want the woman that I love by my side as queen," the prince replies smoothly. "Your species is of little importance to me. All that matters is that my love is returned in full. Please, allow me to be yours," he reaches for your hand once more, stepping out of his chair in favor of sitting on bended knee. "More than anyone has or ever will, I love you. This is an unwavering truth."

The blood of the love-talker must run through his veins. Why else do you feel like this? Your desire for this prince will eat away at you until you become undone and return to nothing. "You're a prince. It's the duty of the royal family to provide heirs," even the smallest sprite knows this to be fact. "Are you asking me to stay with you and have them?"

"Please have my children," azure stares seriously into your pale eyes that were once [color] when you were human.

Your skin feels warm at his unabashed request.

Gojou Satoru has no shame, that you have become sure of in the near month of knowing one another.

He had no shame when he asked you to be his bride when you first met.

There was no shame to be found when he insisted that you stay in the palace as an honored guest he owes his life to.

Nor is there any shame to be found in him now when he cups your cheek in his furnace hot hands to guide your lips down to his, long white lashes fluttering shut.

I shouldn't, your mind screeches at you. I shouldn't allow us to get even one millimeter closer. Yet you make no move to do so as your lips are just barely touching whenー

"Your Highness, your mother is requesting you," Nanami's mild-mannered drawl saves you at the last minute.

You jerk back into your chair in relief, heart pounding. You aren't able to make eye contact with anyone, least of all the overworked horned elf-kobold hybrid brought to receive the Gojou heir.

The prince clicks his tongue in annoyance, glaring over his shoulder at the advisor, "she can't wait? We haven't even begun eating yet."

Nanami looks just as annoyed to be there, "the faster you heed her call, the quicker you can go back to fawning after the object of your desires." He tells his prince. "And the faster I can get back to resting."

The prince with snow-white hair clicks his tongue once more, but he doesn't argue against it. He turns to you regretfully, "I'll have to leave again. Perhaps we'll have more time together at dinner," you hope the wait for dinner is longer still. You know the prince hopes the time passes as quickly as he can blink.

Warm lips press against the back of your hand, lingering for five seconds longer than they should.

The bones of your hands ache.

Extra:

Title comes from a Nizar Qabbani poem: [Your love / Oh you with fathomless eyes / Is extreme /mystic / holy / Your love, like birth and death / is impossible to repeat]

My favorite bit in this is having the reader refused to call Gojou by name even in the narrative dialogue, in a futile attempt to keep distance between you both. I hope you guys found that riveting as well

Part 2? Should there be one? Perhaps there should be... y'all let me know

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk faerie au #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #faeries #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #fair folk #mythology #i had a lot of fun writing this

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crazy-pe3p · 9 months

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i have never made a fusion nor drawn su ever but heres a flower ranchers fusion!! purple moss agate!

gemcyt au belongs to @chrisrin !!

[bonus doodle:]

#gemcyt #ori's art #scott smajor #smajor1995 #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #flower ranchers #idk i think hed be very confident and salty

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cj-the-random-artist · 8 months

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I have made more designs for the medieval fantasy au thingy, the King and (most of) her court (I haven't designed Joe yet but I'll get there)

Bdubs is in charge of the cavalry (he just trains the military to ride horses), he's very fond of horses and he's part fae. I don't really have many major design notes for him, though I don't think his cloak is actually made of moss. At some point, he was cursed by some far stronger fae, but he's not cursed anymore (for reasons).

Next is the Immortal (and Undead) King Cleo (or Queen but I figure since they're the King of Hermitcraft I'm just gonna say King lol). I wanted Cleo to look kind of royal without wearing red, so I went with a purple cloak instead. She's also dressed very functionally, because when you're ruling a town where shenanagins occur on a fairly regular basis, it's important to be able to go out and be comfortable while ensuring the safety of your subjects. (Also, note of Cleo's undead status- they were necromancied back to life by her Royal Wizard, BigB, which she's very glad for, and no one seems to have noticed yet).

Ren is in charge of training the knights and leading them to battle in the event of a major diplomatic disaster. He's very good at his job. He's entirely human, but he's also a werewolf. He doesn't transform, however, again thanks to the Royal Wizard who gave him a pendant that keeps him from transforming at the full moon so long as he wears it. No major design notes other than I like how his hair turned out and I wanted his color palette to be simple.

Finally, we of course have BigB, the Royal Wizard, practiced in all major types of magic and several lesser known ones. He has quite a bit of magical power but tends to prefer not using it for things of major consequence except as a last resort. I gave him a halo of glowy bits around his head because I didn't want to give him a wizard hat but I wanted him to have something going on there.

I have one other court member to design, Joe (court jester by day, diplomatic genius by night) and then several more designs but I hope y'all like these ones and have good day :D

#cj the random artist makes an au #bdoubleo100 #zombie cleo #renthedog #rendog #bigbst4tz2 #hermitcraft au #life series au

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rasenkaikyo · 17 days

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⛩ Hinako Daigo ⛩

Thank you @chadhunkler and @shroudkeeper for tagging me! 💜

I don't know who I should tag! So if you see this if you wanna do it/haven't done it for an alt or something, tag me and I'll make sure to tag in the future.

Basics

Name: 大悟の日和子 Daigo no Hinako

Nicknames: Hina

Age: 26 summers

Nameday: 16th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Race: Raen Au Ra

Gender: Cis Female

Orientation: Bisexual

Profession: Shrine priest/kannushi, healer-adventurer.

Physical Aspects

Hair: Dark brown into black.

Eyes: Dark purplish-red with pinkish limbal rings.

Skin: A mid-deep brown

Tattoos/scars: A number of trace scars, most notable a slash scar near her right shoulder and a burn scar on the same side of her abdomen.

Family

Parents: Katanobu Musa (father, deceased) and Honoka Daigo (mother, missing)

Siblings: Kanako Daigo (younger sister)

Grandparents: Morimoto and Komachi Daigo (maternal grandfather and grandmother, both deceased).

In-laws and Other: Kirisame Akiudo, Kagetora and Sakuya Daigo (cousins), Misuzu Kurenai (step-cousin).

Pets: Bakusan (tapir), and a number of pets shared with her partner, including Raiken and Hayate (shiba inu), Sakumi (hawk).

Skills

Abilities: Hinako displays great potential with manipulation of qi, in controlling elemental magic and in healing. She has a closeness with the unseen world and can commune with various spirits, and exceptional perception of the qi around her.

She also stands versed in martial arts as part of supplementary training, in kenjutsu and primarily bajiquan, and is stronger than her initial presence suggests.

Hobbies: Weaving, botany (per her training), exploring, playing music, trying new foods.

Traits

Most Positive Trait: Extremely genial.

Most Negative Trait: Has often kept her troubles to herself.

Likes

Colors: Purples, pinks, green, white.

Smells: Flowers, petrichor, moss, incense.

Textures: Grass, silk, wood, stone.

Drinks: Teas

Other details

Smokes: Not at all.

Drinks: On occasion she may partake in umeshu or sake, or share a drink with another when being social.

Drugs: None such.

Mount Issuance: A white falcon of her village so aptly named Yuki, and at times in Eorzea a horsebird called Mogumogu.

Been Arrested: Detained on dubious grounds mostly, including once by Imperials in occupied Doma, and in Gridania out of suspicion towards her practices.

#ffxiv #prompts #writing #lore #about #hinako daigo

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evilhasnever · 1 year

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Not a request but it was partially inspired by this lovely artwork by @pillow-boi!

xiyao soulmate AU - colors

They say people know only one color in their life until they meet the One that opens their eyes. Most people live perfectly well without knowing more - to them, colors are only words attached to concepts without any truth to them. “Blue”, “Gold”, “Pink”, what are these but words, to one who has never seen them? But curiosity was always Meng Yao’s greatest flaw.

When A-Yao asked mama to describe colors, she always recited poetry to him. She said one day father would come back and bring all the colors with him, that he’d bring gold and turquoise and purple as a gift, and let them see the world of poets and painters. The older Meng Yao got, the more he suspected mother had never truly seen gold and turquoise and purple herself, because her descriptions were vague and lyrical, the same as her poetry and fables.

The only color Meng Yao knows is blood. He’s seen it on mother’s lips and bedsheets, he’s seen it smeared on her face like makeup. When she died, Meng Yao decided he did not miss the red at all. He knows, knows, knows, that the world is nothing but black and white and the miserable gray in between, tasting of hunger pangs and bitter bile. The splatters of blood pressed on the world like fingerprints help him spot danger and keep him alive.

Meng Yao is fine with that; colors are better left to poets, who live above the caliginous gray world. He can be gray himself, slipping among shadows unseen until he finds what he is looking for. Safety, and strength, and gold.

He sees no glint of gold as he falls ruinously off the stairs, hundreds of steps biting into his flesh like the fangs of rabid dogs, the gray sky above and gray marble below blurring into one. He limps back into the fog, numb even to his pain, and for a while he refuses to look at the world at all.

But one day, one day he finds a wounded young man in the woods and his eyes open wider, wider, wide.

He sees the bluish hue of his corvine hair, he sees the pinkening of his cheeks when he unexpectedly smiles, he sees the shocking green of a leaf that stuck to his ruined robes. He sees his blood too, and he immediately gets to work tending to his injuries, his hands shaking.

“Young Master, you’re wounded. Young Master, who did this to you?” His breaths stutter in his lungs with the desperate urgency of one who’s broken the surface of water after a too-long dive.

“My name is Lan Xichen,” the Young Master whispers, incongruously. He’s still smiling despite the blood on his clothes. “May I have your name?”

“Meng Yao,” he hurries to reply, “please, let me help you up. Come with me.”

In a daze, they stumble through the woods and along the river. Meng Yao has to keep himself from spooking like a foal at every unexpected splash of color along the path.

Young Master, he wants to ask, was the sky always so blue? Was the moss always so green? But he has no time for poetry, and no words for it besides.

Lan Xichen is no help, peals of laughter and pained coughs the only sounds he can produce as they make their way towards Meng Yao’s home, the arm that is not broken wrapped around Meng Yao’s shoulders to stay upright.

“Look, Master Meng,” he whispers, half delirious, “the mushrooms… they’re so yellow.”

Golden-orange, spotted caps emerge in bushels from the underbrush, startling Meng Yao with their brightness.

“I see them,” Meng Yao murmurs, shell-shocked.

Two more steps, and Lan Xichen gasps in delight. “That ladybug, do you see it?”

“Yes. It’s red, Young Master.”

Lan Xichen turns his head to gaze at Meng Yao intensely, and in this position, one supporting the other, their noses almost touch. “Meng Yao,” Lan Xichen whispers, his eyes growing wide with realization. “I’d never seen red before.”

Meng Yao is speechless, but cannot look away.

“And look! A butterfly,” Lan Xichen points again, jostling them and nearly falling from Meng Yao’s shaky grasp. He gives him an inquisitive, almost cautious side glance. “Do… you see it?”

“I see it. It’s… blue?” He’d seen its shape in a book, he’d known it was “blue”, but he had not known what his eyes would see when they gazed upon blue. It’s breath-taking. It’s the color of Lan Xichen’s clothes and the glitter of dew on his hair.

Lan Xichen only nods, expectantly, and Meng Yao’s mouth opens unbidden. “I’d never seen blue before,” he stammers, before he can think of keeping it to himself.

“Oh, how lovely,” Lan Xichen murmurs, his eyes squinting with something bittersweet even as he smiles. They’re gray, but not like the gray world at all.

“What is it, Young Master?”

“It is just, Meng Yao, that I am unconscionably happy, and it seems almost a crime to be privy to such beauty when the world is in an upheaval.”

Dumbly, Meng Yao nods, though he has no time to feel guilty of his selfish, burgeoning joy.

It is taken away soon after, as all things are. When he has tucked Lan Xichen into his own bed, he leaves the hut to gather supplies and information, and steps into a world of ghosts.

It is as if he has taken a dip in cold and murky waters, color draining from his world as quickly as it had come. Did it take so little, just an hour of walking hand in hand, to forget what the gray world looked like?

He grits his teeth and hurries back as soon as he is able. Lan Xichen’s answering smile when he opens the door is all he needs to know. It tells him that color has returned with Meng Yao too, and Meng Yao is humbled and furious at once. He can live without, he always has - but knowing that he is withholding it from Lan Xichen is unconscionable.

Cruel as expected, the world only lets him see its true face when Lan Xichen is with him, and him with Lan Xichen. And that is not something that will ever last.

On the same day, Meng Yao discovers color and its impermanence, and at times he thinks he hates knowing beauty. Because how can one go back to the gray world willingly? How can one look away from Lan Xichen long enough to ensure he survives? To ensure they both survive?

He must, yet he hesitates to leave. He hates to hunt, he hates to spy, he hates to go and be anywhere but here, where the colors live.

He apologizes to Lan Xichen for it, redness kissed from his cheeks to his lips again and again as he forces himself to say goodbye.

“I will need to leave you for a long while,” he says, with the shame of a traitorous thief.

“Go as you will,” Lan Xichen says, with a smile of pink dawn. “Night is not painful before sunrise, and the wait is not heavy with the promise of your return.”

#xiyao drabbles #xiyao #soulmate AU #yeah it's yunping again #lan xichen #jin guangyao #meng yao #shiome fic

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phospadparadscha · 4 months

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Gym teacher Harry reveal except it's his base gem reveal.

Something something quartz something something bicep girth.

In my AU, Harry was a moss agate before Martinaise and his pale exposure / memory loss. After his reformation, he became almost unrecognizable as a moss agate, with drusy formations deep in his gem that corrupted his original data (but not quite corruption like the gem monsters in Steven Universe). Usually drusy formations match the color of the gem they're on, but I like the idea that the Pale exposure made the drusy crystals the same colors as his skills (blue, red, yellow, purple), oversaturating his gem colors. His corruption is more like Volleyball's in Steven Universe where his damage is permanent and internal. (Also as a 'gym teacher' in this au maybe he was training younger gem foot soldiers?)

#disco universe #disco elysium #disco elysium au #steven universe #steven universe crossover #harry du bois #illustration #my art #art

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larz-barz · 2 months

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New Addition

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Warning(s)/info: This fic contains GiYuMiLo which is a family dynamic that contains the ship GiYuna and depicts Michio and Milo as their children. Yuna is not my oc, she belongs to my amazing platonic wife @kimetsu-chan. This is a fic for the magic au that @aceofstars0 started:D

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Giyuu and Yuna are just walking around in the mountains, hand in hand and their 4 year old son on Giyuu’s shoulders.

“What’s that?” Michio asks excitedly, jabbing his finger at the air in the direction of a shooting star that was nearly consumed by the black moss that covered patches of the ground.

“Oh no! We need to go help them!” Yuna exclaims and runs to the star, Giyuu quickly follows her over to it.

She quickly dislodges the star from the parasitic moss and brushes moss off of it.

“You don’t think we’re too late do you, Yuu?” Yuna asks her husband worriedly.

Just as Giyuu was about to reassure his wife, the star starts to crack open and it reveals a beautiful little 1 year old girl with long half black and half white hair with purple streaks on both sides. Her slightly tanned skin has black splotches that vary in size and resemble vitiligo.

“There’s your answer..” Giyuu says calmly as he brushes a bit of hair out of the small toddler’s face.

Michio seems excited to have a new baby sister to play with.

“Well Michio.. what do you think of your new baby sister?” Yuna asks the little boy with a bright smile.

“I wove her!!” He squeals excitedly and Yuna chuckles softly.

“What should we name her?” Giyuu asks Michio and Yuna.

“Miwo!” Michio suggests happily and the small cat ears on the girl’s head twitch and she smiles and starts purring softly.

“Hehe.. I think she likes it.. Milo it is..” Yuna says with a soft smile.

Giyuu leans in to kiss Yuna on her forehead.

“That’s a perfect name for her..”

The small family then begins to walk home with their new addition, Milo.

~the end~

hehehe i love this sm🥰💕

#random posts from larz #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #teehee #meow #milo suzuki #magic au #larz writes #oc fic

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whogavemoththerighttohyperfix · 2 years

Text

ALL MY HERMIT DESIGNS

None of this is official it’s more just HC for my more family centric hermit au so like none of this is meant to be taken seriously Heh

BdoubleO100

Bdubs is a glare hybrid for the very simple reasons of 1. I like glares and 2. Moss. The stuff covering the top half of his dead is kind of like fluff but it’s also a mix of feathers his bandana is mainly for separating the hair from the fluff because they tend to tangle together. Like glares he can locate places with zero light but darkness also tends to make him grumpy.

Technically he can float a tiny bit but it’s mostly uncontrollable so he keeps weights in his shoes to keep him to the ground.

Cubfan135

originally I was going to make Cub some sort of hybrid of an animal from Egypt cause Targét is one of my favourite builds but I didn’t end up deciding on anything and just made him a normal human but I’m more than willing to change that if I find an animal I like

Docm77

Dom is the tallest of the hermits, he is actually taller than he is in the photo cause he’s sitting down in that. He’s a creeper hybrid with some robot modifications he is actually massive. I love the centaur idea of creepers so of course I had to make him a type of centaur.

He says he refuses anyone to ride of his back but in reality basically everyone has gotten a ride almost once off his weather he was willing to go r not

EthosLab

Etho being a Phantom hybrid is honestly such a fun idea for me I saw it once and it’s not like completely canon in my head, also since he can sense when someone’s got a lack of sleep he just fucks with them endlessly until they eventually sleep and it’s no fun anymore.

Sunlight actually burns him so if he deciders to go out in the sun then he either has to wear a hood or if it’s a ridiculously hot day a sun hat

FalseSymmetry

False is also just a human but she’s stronger than most of the hybrids there, she’s also got roller boots! It’s not that important my god I absolutely love roller boots! False is literally amazing cause she can somehow skate everywhere with them.

She also gave Her goggle adjustments so she can see peoples health and injury status on them. It also shows her plans for building so she can get stuff done faster

GoodTimesWithScar

Scar is an elf! His hair is naturally long, if he cuts it it will grow back by the next day. He does practice witch magic though. The crystals in his hair link to his magic, his wheelchair turns into his elytra when he presses a button on it, it originally was never able to but it was too much trouble to get out and into his elytra every time.

His wheelchairs also got a perch on the back of it cause Grian kept landing on the handles and breaking them

Grian

Grians a parrot hybrid but his flight feathers have a tendency to fall out when he’s stresses which is often now a days. Ever since the Rift had been growing he’s always been cold and blanking out often so he’s been flying less.

His eyes nose and mouth have been leaking purple stuff as well since he found the rift. It’s not bad yet but it’s just the beginning of the rifts side effects.

GeminiTay

She’s a deer centaur!! :D lots of flowers, lots and lots of flowers like if you’ve been around her like at all you’ll find flowers in your hair, in your clothes hell even in your house, no one knows where it comes from though, if you scare her she will literally just act like a deer in headlights, honesty one of the strongest people on the server, she could practically lift everyone and one kick could break a bone.

Although that she could she would probably never do it,she’s intk done it like once or twice and those were whole different situations.

Hypnotizd

Hypno is technically just a human but he can keep up with other hybrids and hold his own, he’s known most of them since the hermitcraft was discovered, his coat is made of gold in some places and his watch is pure gold, which also makes it really funny when he lobs it at peoples heads when their trying to fly

iJevin

Slime hybrid! He’s honestly quite squishy but will punch you if you decided to hug him without his permission,as much as you can you shouldn’t take his bones out his body , one time he took it out as a joke when he was little and was bed ridden for days in pain. Which means if he ever got caught in trouble his best option is just to book it if it gets too bad.

ImpulseSV

The hermitcraft is actually surprisingly hot yet Iskall still wears winter clothes, he actually had a thing where he feels the cold much more than other people, a small breeze can feel like he’d been dropped into the Antarctic. He also keeps quite a lot of amethyst shards hidden in his coat he always had some on him.

Iskall85

Iskall is also just another human but his robot eye does give him some advantages, it shows heath, hearts and any potential weaknesses or places that are hurt, while it does help with fights it can also help with the other hermits because they will literally go to any lengths to hide injuries, he just makes it so he gets notifications now.

Honestly if you’ve been around him at all you will find leaves in you hair for the next few weeks, no one knows where it comes from not even him

JoeHills

Joe is probably the least accessorised off the hermits, he has been tackled on a number of occasions to add more clothes cause in everyone else’s opinions “he has no sense of style” but he’s happy with it so he’s willing to survive a few tackling of he got to wear what he wanted

Keralis

Keralis is probably the most strongest on the server despite being a human, under his clothes he’s actually fucking ripped as hell, despite that though he’s honestly one of the nicest guys there, if you sick he is the type to bring you soup without even having to tell him that your sick he just knows stuff like that.

MumboJumbo

Mumbo is a red winged Moth Hybrid! They tent to get attached to redstone and redstone items, usually to their colour but the texture is a,so appealing to them, he’s naturally good with redstone and can fix basically anything despite not actually knowing how redstone even works, usually the others will have him double check for anything major wrong,

He can also technically make redstone but it’s kinda gross so he doesn’t mostly

PearlescentMoon

Pearl is a Moon Moth hybrid! She cycles with the moon, her sleep schedule fluctuates between being normal and being nocturnal, sometimes her instincts keep her awake at night despite being awake all day so she has to be wrestled into bed, usually by botem but everyone’s had to do it once or twice. No one dislikes her for it though she can’t help it

Her wings also tend to change with the night sky you can spot constellations in them if you look hard enough,

Rendog

Rens a Werwolf but he wasn’t exactly born it he was bitten by another Werwolf hybrid but he honestly has no problem with the guy that bite him, the guy was hiding away so he wouldn’t hurt anyone till Ren wandered in at the wrong time, the guy even helped him get a safe place to transform on full moons.

The other Hermits know they should leave him alone on full moons but they end up just going “PUPPY” instead. Ren surprisingly doesn’t have any intent to bite them when transformed he just lies down in his house so it leads to break days. No need for them to overwork themselves on the days he’s transformed because transformed Ren wouldn’t stand for it if he saw it.

StressMonster101

Stress is a fairy hybrid! She can actually turn into a smaller version of herself which can be honestly helpful in snooping or literally anything. It does also mean there is a small chance she can be stepped on but she does her best to avoid that (it has happened before though)

She’s also the type of fairy that will literally just fuckin die if you don’t believe in fairy’s but it’s not that bad since she’s right there’s so there’s no reason for people to not believe

TangoTek

Tango is a blaze hybrid, he dosent have the rods that most hybrids come with for some reason though, he can still light himself on fire though. He also tends to set himself on fire when he gets scared it he gets too excited which can be an issue sometimes since ya know fire kind of burns other people

They’re all fine with it though they can usually tell when he’s about to set himself on fire

TinFoilChef

TFC is basically the server grandpa in the best way possible, it does mean though that sometimes he’ll just come home to find random people camping out at his house, it’s gotten to the point there he had to build a guest room for when it happens

He was born without one of his legs so he usually just makes his own leg, right now his leg is just diamonds to flex how rich he is

VintageBeef

I sadly probably have the least to say about Vintage Heh, hes just a guy! But I love his design. He constantly is changing his apron but it always ends up dirtied to the point that he shouldn’t even try and wash it at this point

He only really gets annoyed when the blood gets on his face though anywhere else it’s fine

WelsKnight

Wels is a human but I was originally going to make him an angle hybrid or something like that but i can always change it if I want to. His armour is honestly mostly decretive but it’s also cause he’s in a server with either extremely strong people or people that can use some sort of ability on him.

xBCrafted

XB is a Guardian hybrid he’ll honestly die if he dosent get water, so it’s usually best for him to have about 5 buckets of water on him so he dosent ya know die, it also means he’s invincible to water bucket pranks as it literally just helps him.

He can also control water just not well, it’s extremely hard but he can move it on his own

Xisumavoid

Xisuma is an admin hybrid, which is one of the rarest hybrids. You cant meant to be an admin you have to specifically be born to it you can create worlds, championships, you can become a god basically. Which is why most Admins tend to become corrupt, But Xisuma isn’t evil enough for that, the Hermits are his family so why would he want to hurt them?

if TinFoilChef was the server grandad then Xisuma is the servers dad

ZedaphPlays

Zedaph is a goat hybrid which can be kinda annoying when he comes running full force at you and barges you with his horns, he has accidentally killed people on multiple occasions but it’s all fun and games he means nothing by it. He’s also broke so many goggles with his horns so he’s got a full drawer of them

ZombieCleo

Cleo is of course a Zombie hybrid! But she also has some Medusa elements, her snakes won’t turn you to stone but they can turn you to zombies! It makes Zombie villager stuff easier though since she can just do it herself, but being undead also makes clothes shopping a bit difficult cause clothes tend to rot away on her, she can just patch it up though.

She’s also the only one that can fight in high heels other than tango but she prefers army boots

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watcher-with-burned-wings · 6 months

Text

Bad Thoughts Give Me Bad Dreams

(Dragon Scott au with flower ranchers)

Many years ago, dragons, humans, and hybrids lived in peace. The humans had land and farms, and the dragons had mountains and skies. The hybrids were free to pass through either domain. That was until dragons discovered magic. When the humans found out, they got increasingly jealous. Soon the humans convinced the hybrids that the dragons were too powerful. The hybrids and humans attacked the unsuspecting dragons, wiping out many of them. The remaining dragons refused to fight and turned to hide. The dragons disappeared without a trace. No one knew where they fled as they did not return to the mountains. Even after all these years, many humans were still set on hunting them down.

Somewhere in the sea on the coast, is a cave. Deep within this underwater cave, leads to a hidden civilization. Once a lush cave had grown into a sanctuary for the remaining of the fallen race. The walls shifted from stone alto diorite to calcite. Glow from berries glimmered in the amethyst clusters dotted around the cave. Vines hung from ledge to ledge, from stalactite to stalagmites, and decorated nests. Moss and azaleas were used as bedding and padding, magic growing the azaleas into trees. Using the same magic, crops were grown. Fresh spring water flowed down one side of the cave. Dragons walked around and glided through the air as they chatted and lived peacefully. A market was in the middle of the refuge. Many sold fish, or the more darning ones sold game from the surface.

A pair of dragons watched the bustle of their kind from a small ledge. On the ledge was their nest. Two eggs were resting in the center. A crack appeared on the shell of the larger egg. Both parents turned eagerly and watched as two tiny legs pushed out of the shell, cracking the egg fully. A purple-haired hatching sat in the middle of the eggshell, its black wings were visibly strong, and its horns shone proudly. The parents only admired their hatchling momentarily before the other egg cracked.

Unlike the first hatchling, a small hole was formed, and a small face poked out. The hatchling pushed hard against the shell and popped his head out as the top of the egg cracked. A startled squeak came as he rolled out of the egg. This hatching had cyan hair, small horns, and weak wings, but his claw-like hands were webbed with a fin-like tail. The parents were ecstatic that they had a sky-borne and a sea-borne hatchling. They dubbed them Xornoth and Scott.

As the years passed, the siblings soon grew from hatchlings to fledglings. Xornoth was the first to learn how to fly. Scott struggled to fly due to his features but could glide for long periods. When it came to learning how to swim, Scott flew through the depths, while Xornoth struggled to stay afloat. The cyan-fledging soon learned he had gills on the side of his neck, allowing him to breathe underwater.

While being different, both brothers were extremely close. They played, fought, and shared everything. But one thing they both loved was the days of homecoming. Every six months, they would race to the cave Gate and wait for the exploration team to return. The Gate was the water passage that led to the cavern. It was protected by a strong magic to only allow dragons through. When the older dragon appeared from the water, everyone cheered as they brought new technologies or food for the colony. Scott would watch with stars in his eyes as he admired the team. He made himself a promise they when he was old enough, he would be on that team.

===========

A purple and black blur shot through the cavern air space, a blue flash following beneath. Wedded claws gripped at store roofs, springing across gaps and streets. A fin-like tail flashed behind as he glided from roof to roof. Calling out apologizes as he dodges around clotheslines or startled elders. His sibling’s laughs echo above him as they grips their stomach at their brother’s dilemma. A smirk graces his face as they slam back first into a stalactite. They fell onto a nearby roof.

“You deserved that!” Scott snickered as he stepped around Xornoth’s fallen form. They groaned in response to Scott’s jab. Scott fondly rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’re going to be late for homecoming.” Grabbing his sibling’s arm, he pulled them up. They wobbled before shaking themselves off.

Scott leaped off the building with a laugh as he heard an agitated ‘Hey!’ come from his nestmate. He descended into the middle of the street and took off running towards the Gate. Dragon folks of all ages started to converge on the plaza. Scott slipped into the front of the crowd, tail swaying eagerly as he watched the Gate. Xornoth dropped beside him and pushed his shoulder.

“Jerk! I could have missed it,” They complained, crossing their arms over their chest. “And here you would have been.”

“Oh shush! You were fine.” He responded as he rubbed his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “I’ve seen you take worse falls than that. You’re just being dramatic.” Xornoth pouted at him before a gurgling caught both of their attention.

The water in the Gate began to swirl in a vortex and changed in color as the magic reacted. From the vortex, a sea-borne dragon shot up into the air, followed by two sky-borne dragons and then a nature-born dragon. The group landed in front of the crowd of dragons, their arms full of supplies and new shiny objects. But something was off.

A solemn air surrounded the group of newly returned dragons. A wave of confused whispers and murmurs passed through the crowd. Everyone watched the pool, waiting for the other two members to appear. Like everyone else, Scott and Xornoth were concerned by the absence of two of their kind. The sea-borne stepped up with a solemn air to him, hushing every dragon in the process.

“To my dismay, I must inform you Tilly and Dan have sadly perished during our adventure.” The leader informed. A stunned shock settled on the shoulders of the community. “They sacrificed themselves to allow the rest of us to escape from the humans. So let us not waste their sacrifice and forever remember them and celebrate the supplies they allowed us to forge.” The leader tried to lighten the mood.

The crowd agreed, dispersing around the market. A band had begun to play songs of remembrance to grieve their loss, then switched to a more upbeat one. Couples dance in the square, while game stalls begin to shout for players. Soon laughter lifted the solemn mood. Scott watched from a shadowed corner, sitting on a barrel, Xornoth finding him after spending some time enjoying the festivities.

Approaching cautiously, Xornoth asked, “Scott? What are you doing here? You should be out there, having fun.” They sat down on a crate next to him.

“Just thinking.” He replied, watching a bat fly around. Xornoth gave an unimpressed look.

“Scott.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, fidgeting with his tail. His sibling rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I promise, you can tell me anything.”

Scott looked at them finally, taking a deep breath. “I am thinking of joining the group to the outside world.” He admitted, not looking them in the eyes. “I know how dangerous it is, but I want to do something good for the colony.” He closes his eyes, expecting a backlash. Instead, he got a gentle hug.

“I know,” Xornoth whispered. “I will never stop you from pursuing your dream. Just come back to me safe, that's all I ask.” Scott hugged him back tightly, burying his face into his sibling's shoulder.

“I will promise.”

Xornoth cradled his younger brother close to his chest. “You better or I’m hunting you down myself and turning you into a rug.” Scott laughed wetly as he pulled away. Xornoth grinned and grabbed his hand. “Now let’s go play some games, I’m going to beat you so bad!”

Scott smiled as he walked with them, “No you’re not, I’ll win easily.”

===============

It was the third anniversary of the passing of two of the members of the adventure group. It was also the day when Scott joined the team. All the group was reluctant to let the fledging join their ranks but agreed. The first year was spent learning and observing, and Joel made sure of that. Joel was the leader of the group and a sea-borne like Scott. He was a natural-born leader as he gave instructions flawlessly and proficiently. Scott learned many skills from him. Hunting, fighting, and stealing are the main ones.

His partner was Lizzie, one of the two sky-borne dragons. She oversaw planning missions and was a rather good fighter. Many of the plans the group chose were approved by Lizzie. When not prepping for a mission, she was rather protective of their newest member. She would cook great meals and sing songs when they were resting. Scott enjoyed her company late at night when she would point out constellations. Her scales were a shimmering sea green.

Next, Grian. He was the other sky-borne dragon of the group. He was a master of disguise and deception. He loves causing confusion and distraction to humans as much as possible. The red-scaled dragon loved any explosive he could get his hands on. Anything shimmery or a button to be pressed, he pushes or takes. When not on a mission, he plays pranks on them. No matter what, Grian is there to make Scott smile. Learning how to set traps had to be Scott’s favorite memory with him.

Last, but not least, was Scar. The nature-borne dragon was Grian’s significant other. While clumsy, he was a master at magic. All dragons knew of some magic, but Scar could outdo them any day. His skill with a bow was incredible and well-practiced. Scar had taught him how to use magic and recite important spells as well as potion making. Scott’s favorite memory is when he accidentally turned the emerald, green dragon into a vivid lavender purple. Everyone had a great laugh.

The second year he mostly allowed Scott to branch out. Engaging the skills, he had studied into practice. The fledging of seventeen rotations soon expanded his reach. He battled in missions with Joel, stole alongside Grian, cast and prepped spells with Scar, and cooked with Lizzie. Scott couldn’t have been happier.

By the spring of the third season, Scott had nearly surpassed all his teachers. He won a duel against Joel. He created a spell all on his own. He even picked up strategizing from Lizzie, helping her to come up with backup plans and escape routes. Everyone was proud of him. Xornoth and their parents were over the moon every time he came home with stories to tell when he visited.

Homecoming had just wrapped up. The team, minus Scott, was planning where they would go next. Scott walked beside Xornoth, who had grown as well. They were the captain of the guardian force. He was proud of his sibling for making such momentous progress. The two were making idly chit-chat as they headed towards the building where they were residing for the night before heading out the next morning.

Xornoth spoke up suddenly, “Scott… maybe you should hang back this time.”

“What?”

“Just for this year, you know mom is sick so I was just thinking you should be here in case something happens.” They explained, his gaze turned away.

“Xornoth, she has a cold,” Scott deadpanned. “She’s already nearly fully recovered. If something bothers you, just let me know. Don’t dance around it.” He stated bluntly, stopping in his tracks to look at his sibling.

Laughing, “You know me too well. Okay, I guess…” They relent. “I just… have been having horrible dreams about you. In the nightmares, you would be locked in a cage, humans surrounding you. They just seemed so real…” They grabbed his hands, staring him dead in the eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Scott.”

He pulled his sibling close and engulfed them in a hug. “I vow that I will return to you no matter what. I’ll be careful, I swear.” He pulled away. “Besides, if I’m gone, who’s going to be your annoying little brother?” He gave in a cheeky grin.

Despite looking reassured, Xornoth still seemed troubled. Sighing, Scott compromised, “How about every few weeks I send a letter through flame mail? Will that help?”

“Yeah, just to hear from you.” They agreed.

“Great, now I need to head to the grand hall to meet and plan with the others.” Scott hugged his older sibling once more before letting go.

“Stay safe,” Xornoth called as he walked off. Scott rolled his eyes and called back, “Okay mother hen!” Xornoth squawked in outrage as Scott ran off laughing.

Slipping inside the grand hall, Scott found his companions discussing a map.

“But Lizzie, we can’t go back to Crystal Cliffs, we were just there,” Joel explained. “It would be best if we went to the Southlands.” Lizzie shook her head.

“It’s too far of a journey this time of year. The tides aren’t in our favor.” She pointed to another place; a city built at the mouth of a river. “Midnight Valley is relatively close.”

Grian piped up. “Oh, heck no! We nearly got caught because of that bottlenecked trap!” Using feather-light steps, Scott crept over and gazed at the map. Lizzie huffed in frustration. “Then where do you suggest we head too?”

Grian studied the map and then pointed to a small group of islands. “What about the Coral Isles? They have good resources.”

Scar frowns. “Don’t they have a pufferfish infestation they are taking care of?”

“Ah, I forgot that part…” He slumped in his seat.

“What if we were to head to Ranch Town?” Scott suggested, alarming everyone.

Scar clutched his chest and panted, “Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a stroke!” Scott had the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry Scar.”

Joel looked at the map, considering Scott’s suggestion. “Why would you say that place?” Scott looked up at him and then at the map. “Well, if we were to travel there, we could camp on the small uninhabited shores near the bottom of the edge of civilization without having to cast huge spells. And Joel and I will always have seawater.” Lizzie nodded slowly.

“I see your point, there are plenty of escape routes if we choose to swim upstream.” She traces the river divides, then taps the docks. “They also have the largest world trade port, allowing us to steal some rare necessities.” Joel nodded.

“I agree. We haven’t been there for ages. Looks like we’re heading to Ranch Town.” The leader declared, “We leave in the morning, so prepare accordingly. Ranch Town is a week’s worth of travel.”

Everything was settled, so the adventurers headed off to bed, unknowing of the strife ahead.

==============

Weaving through the crowds, Joel and Scott dashed through the dock. Shouts followed them as knights gave chase. Tucked in Scott’s claws was an book, he had stolen from a royal merchant ship. Twin cloaks flailed behind them as they fled the scene. The chase had been going on for around a good twenty minutes by now.

Scott was starting to tire as Joel gave a nod, signaling to split up.

Scott turned down a small side street, trying to lose the guards. As he ran, he wondered how this had happened. It was supposed to be a simple operation. Get in and out. But everything went wrong right away. The ship that was supposed to be there was a simple merchant ship, not a royal one. Then the guards swamped the boat. Everyone scattered, guards tailing them. This brings us to where he is currently.

Four guards sprinted after him. He glanced at the book and wondered why they wanted it so obsessively. Shotting out of the alley, he ran into the road, sliding under a cart that nearly trapped him. He snickered as he heard a few cusses, dashing swiftly around a corner, only to nearly run into a horse.

He stumbles into the dirt on his butt. He looked up to yell, only to pale, seeing the head of the royal guard. The head of the royal guard was the prince’s fiancé, Tango. He was a hot head blaze hybrid, fiercely protective of the kingdom. Nearly no one had escaped him before, minus his group. But he was about to clean his record. Scott tried to scramble away, but his boots couldn’t get a grip on the sediment.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tango hopped down and placed his knee into Scott’s spine, nearly on his hidden wings. The book, long forgotten, fell into the dirt as Scott struggled against Tango, trying to escape. Tango manages to wrangle him into chains as the other knights rounded the corner. Falling limp, Scott realized he was outmatched and outnumbered.

He yelped as his hood was grabbed and he tossed over the horse's back. Tango patted him down, confiscating his small, enchanted dagger and a few regenerating potions. Then the royal knight reached for his cloak clasp. Scott stiffened in fear as he was powerless to prevent the inevitable. He curled slightly as his wings and dragon heritage were revealed. Tango seemed to short-circuit for a moment before recovering, placing the cloak down he turned to his men.

In a commanding voice, “Find the other thieves I need to bring this one to the castle.” Tango orders. “Do not kill. Especially if they are anything like him.” The knights saluted before spreading out to search for his friends.

Scott’s stomach dropped when he heard castle. He couldn’t be serious. But as Tango saddled up, and pushed his horse into a trot, he knew he was in big trouble.

==============

Scott cursed as he was thrown roughly into the cell. He hisses at the guard as the wooden door slams and locks, causing the tower to rumble around him. He glares as he brushes himself off, checking himself over. The cyan-scale Dragonborn had been stripped of nearly everything he owned, left with only the clothes on his back. Sadly, his cloak was confiscated, leaving him only in his trousers.

Glancing around, Scott grimaced.

The cell was circular with a barred lancet window situated above his head, allowing fresh air and sea breeze to filter in. Moonlight cased long shadows but provided enough light to see. The tropical summer humidity caused the cobbled stone to gleam with condensation, making the cell damp. A small wooden bench hung, posing as a poor substitute for a bed, under the window. A tiny wooden bucket filled with murky questionable water was placed beside it—the whole cell smelt of mildew.

Trudging over to the bench, Scott sat down heavily. He closed his eyes as he rested his head against the wall, feeling so stupid about getting caught. Opening his eyes, he stared up at the cone-like ceiling with despair. He should have listened to Xornoth. He could have spent six months with him. It wouldn’t have killed him to spend time with his family. Now he might not ever see them again.

Ignoring the burning in his eyes, Scott looked at his hands. He looked at his scaly hands and sharp nails. He cupped them together and mumbled under his breath a spell. A ball of light formed and drifted from his hands. A sudden thought came to him, causing him to spring up for the worn old bench. The light drifted above his head as he approached the door.

He nearly laughed at his idiocy. He crouched down and pressed a hand to the cell door. He smirked as he pronounced the lock-pick spell. A click echoed around the small room as the door unlocked. Relief washes over Scott as he pulls open the cell door. He stepped out of the cell, and a narrow staircase leading downward met him. Eager to leave, the dragon leaped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Scott couldn’t help but feel victorious as he dashed down the stairs.

However, the feeling didn’t last long.

Halfway down the stairs, Scott turns one of the many curves of the staircase. He was in such a rush, that he didn’t realize until it was too late, hitting the prince directly in the chest. They both tumbled, pushing the second person, Tango, down the stairs as well. The trio rolled down in a jumble of limbs and curses. Finally, they stopped near the bottom of the stairs, very bruised and sore.

Scott groaned as he pulled himself out of the pile, groaning as he held his chin where he hit it. He rubbed it, checking for blood, which thankfully there didn’t seem to be. Another groan caught his attention, and he turned to see Tango rubbing his head a bit. The prince just lay on the stairs, looking dazed. He and Tango locked eyes.

Scott bolted. He heard a curse before another pair of footsteps followed him.

Scrambling down the rest of the stairs, Scott practically fell out of the stairway, Tango hot on his heels. Picking a direction, he fled. Much to his dismay, he met two guards right away. Tango called from behind him, causing the knights to notice him. He dodged out of their reach, before continuing down the hallway.

He turned another corner, only to run into a dead end. Come on, Scott thought. I can’t catch a break. He spun around to meet his pursuers, pressing himself back into the wall of the hallway, wings twitching. Tango stepped in front of the two other guards.

“No one needs to get hurt. The prince and I only wanted to ask you some questions and offer you a deal.” He had his hands in a passive position in front of him.

Getting defensive, Scott snarled, “Let me go. Like I would ever help you.” He barred his teeth, at the blaze hybrid. Tango's face fell in a scowl.

“You were caught stealing. Normally, thieves would be sent to work in the mines for a few years. But you’re a special case.” Tango explained.

“And why’s that?” He snapped, his tail whipping aggressively. Footsteps came from behind the group. The guards moved, revealing a disheveled looking prince. A low growl rumbled from Scott’s throat.

“Because we need your magic knowledge.” The prince stated as he fixed his crown. Scott’s eyes scanned him as he towered over him. The canary hybrid stood nearly head over him. Golden feathers ruffled on his head wings. He had sandy blond hair with muddy tried brown eyes. He was clearly near Scott’s age but his eyes mirrored an elders.

“Why?” The dragon asked suspiciously.

“Please. Humans have begun to invade our land. Many hybrids are dying, like many of your kind did.” To Scott’s surprise, the prince knelt and bowed to him. “Please. We’re desperate. I sincerely apologies for the treatment you had this far. I promise, as Jimmy Solitary, so to be king of Ranch Town, that you and your kind will have protection here for as long as I live.” Jimmy had his forehead practically touching the floor. All the knights copied his movements.

To say Scott was lost was an understatement. First, they imprisoned him, then they asked him for help. He shook his head a bit, feeling overwhelmed. “How do I know this isn’t a sick trick?” Scott deflected.

“Please, if it was trick, do you think we would be bowing and not just torturing you?” Tango said with a bit of an eye roll, but something felt off as Jimmy shot him a glare. Scott gulped at that. It was a good point.

“Fine,” Scott admitted, “But what would you need me to do?” Scott questioned.

Relieved, Jimmy stood up from the floor. “If possible, we need more of those potions you had on you. Plus, if you could perhaps make our weapons enchanted as well.” Jimmy thought for a moment. “We’ll provide everything you need to create them as well.”

Scott couldn’t believe he was hearing. It was like something from a dream. Those simple everyday things dragons could do, but the problem was supplies to create them. So having access to everything was a blessing. Biting his lip, his ear fins flicking with thought.

Scott sighed, “My group and I will help you out as a trial run, until we can trust you.” He spoke. “But know, we will never show you where we hide.” He promised.

“Deal!” Jimmy exclaimed excitedly as he took Scott’s claw and shook it. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Scott awkwardly patted his shoulder, feeling as though he made a deal with the devil.

“Yeah, well as long as we remain behind the scenes, I don’t mind helping.” He added on. “And free meals and comfortable rooms.”

Jimmy laughed, his personality doing a one-eighty. “Of course! In the morning, you can go out to find your friends. But please, allow me to show you to your proper room.” Jimmy grabbed his hand and guided him down a corridor. A staircase later and another hallway later, they reached a door.

Tango opened it, revealing a small bedroom. To be honest, it wasn’t much bigger than the cell had been, but it was furnished with a bed and a dresser. A rug covered the stone floor, but there was no window, only touches for light. Scott reluctantly stepped through the doorway.

“Oh, by the way. Tomorrow we will also discuss your punishment, after all, you still stole royal property.” Jimmy added slyly. “Don’t worry about it too much, Cutie. We can add it into the contract that we’ll create we all your friends are here.” Jimmy gave a Cheshire grin. “Sleep well, little dragon.”

With that the door was slammed closed and locked. Scott could hear something being put in front of the push door, locking him in with no way out. Standing in the dark of the room with only torchlight as company, Scott had a feeling he had just sold his soul.

Scott crawled into the bed and cried himself to sleep that night.

=============

It was four years later; Scott found himself sitting on the arm of King Jimmy’s throne, dressed in the finest clothes, sitting beside the king himself. The war had finally ended. With the dragons’ help enslavement, the hybrids were able to conquer over the humans, restoring balance. During the war, many dragons had moved from the cave to Ranch Town, having decided to be forced to help. After dragons were able to begin normal lives in Ranch Town and live happily above ground, free to fly or swim wherever they please. But as per the agreement, Scott must serve an extra two years for his crime.

Jimmy and Tango had married before the war was announced, officially making Jimmy king. Scott was worked to the bone through the first year in captivity. Many potions and weapons nonstop, his hands would blister from how much nether wart he had to touch. His scales would be dry and flaky by the end of the day due to the heat of the brewing stands. Tango had taken notice one day and had him moved.

From then on, he was Jimmy’s personal servant and guard, much to his friends’ protests. Scott simply told them not to worry and continued with his job. Jimmy soon took a liking to Scott, becoming friendly with him rather quickly while Tango was on the front lines. When Tango was sent back due to an injury, he also had taken to a liking to Scott, but much more slowly. Scott, oblivious to royals’ affection, was focused on protecting everyone he endangered. Even when the war ended, Tango and Jimmy agreed that Scott was theirs.

The royals decided to host a ball celebrating the victory, which is where they are now.

Jimmy leaned over and murmured into Scott’s ear, “Come on Scott, don’t look so glum. I know you want to go be with your family and sibling but we’re your family now as well.” A shiver when down his spin at the hot breath on his ear.

A choked off squeak escaped the cyan dragon as Tango petted his wing. “Yeah, we could have lock you in your room for the night, but we graciously allowed you to be here with us.” Tango gave him a small kiss on the forehead. “So don’t be so ungrateful.” Tango chastised lightly.

Scott early on had learned how to get under their skins. “Yes sirs.” He replied sadly. Both frowned instantly. Neither of them wanted to cause their little dragon to be mad or upset. But they both agreed that sometimes it was needed. But this wasn’t one of those times.

Jimmy tried to recover, “Maybe later you can hang out with Xornoth, they are staying the weekend. But we haven’t seen much of you all week.” He whined, holding Scott’s hand.

“Yeah, and I was only teasing about you room.” Tango added. “We just missed you, cutie.”

Scott smirked internally, having admittedly, started to gain feels of his own towards his to captors. He nodded a bit on the outside, “Okay…” He yawns as he rubs his eyes, having decorated and planned most of the ball himself.

Both Jimmy and Tango melted. Pulling the sleepy dragon into his lap, Jimmy rested him against his chest. Said dragon barely noticed, having done this millions of times, snuggled into Jimmy’s chest. He closed his eyes, falling asleep to the lull of the conversation in the ballroom.

“Sleep well, little dragon.” Both whispered with soft possessive eyes.

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