Tumgik
#little artist note: at first the colored lighting i was planning to use red and yellow
dianagj-art · 1 year
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You KNOW I had to draw these two together
for @trubblegumm's DTIYS because I'm obsessed with their AU and I've been meaning to do fanart for bloodbath anyways (might do the rest of the boys if I have time latter)
Heavily inspired by this gif, I fell in love with the concept at first sight.
Sorry for the eyestrain, I'm gonna leave warnings on the tags for all the flashing lights :v
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whirligig-girl · 8 months
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Star Patrol rocket Piccard-5 encounters an artifact of the incredibly powerful White Marble Civilization. circa 2169, colorized & shipgirlified.
Commission for @foxgirlchorix, based on a render by Holly for @torchship-rpg
This is some of my best rendering work ever! These commissions do have a knack for putting me out of my comfort zone enough to continue developing my technical skills and style.
Image ID: Digital art of two ship girls in a black and blue nebula background. One girl is a very large solid white marble statue with a naked feminine form, pitted and cratered with meteoric impacts, drifting belly-down though space. Instead of a face, her head has a large hole which glows yellow-orange, with a white marble sphere held in space outside of it. A green tractor beam is being emitted towards the second girl, a Torchship named Piccard-5. She is a silver girl with her body resembling a star patrol jumpsuit. Warp drive rings circle her waist like a hula hoop. She is wearing a spherical ball helmet. She is wearing white rocket boots. She has glowing red-orange radiator panels as wings on her back. The white marble sphere's tractor beam is slowly disassembling her into individual hull sections, disconnecting her radiator wings, removing her boots to reveal the rocket propellant inside her legs, and taking her body apart. Piccard-5 is reacting with a worried or confused expression. End Image ID.
Artist's notes and concept sketches in the read more:
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When this render was posted Levana immediately had the idea to make it one of a series she was planning on commissioning me for, of shipgirls based on Torchship's Star Patrol (and alien) rockets. So we quickly brainstormed how it would go down and what she could afford price-wise.
When I do big commissions with new characters where I'm creating the design without an existing OC reference, I charge extra for character design. That doesn't just go to waste! Here's the concept art page:
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The White Marble shipgirl is inspired by the Eerie and Enigmatic Empty Vessels by @murmurlilies, which Levana really likes--if you look at her blog you might see one of those posts reblogged multiple times. I wanted to pay homage to the eerie and enigmatic empty vessels without directly ripping them off! The first sketch on the upper left is imagining the girl poses by breaking her arms into segments and moving them around, but that never looked quite right to me. The second is basically just a direct study of the empty vessels (with a ball head). The third is after a little more refinement--I liked the cute hair on the empty vessels so I wanted to keep the head mostly intact, and I found a way of keeping the silhouette of the jagged angular hips on the empty vessels but in a very different way! Meteoric impact damage, just like on the original Torchship render. I also used an edited version of one of the Empty Vessels drawings for the thumbnail sketch in the lower right out of laziness.
There's also a sketch of what Piccard-5 looks like when she's not being disassembled. Piccard-5 has a rounded main hull, so it looks much more like a regular space suit helmet than the frustum-shaped helmet on the Newton-2 shipgirl I sketched a while back. The Newton-2 shipgirl had heat radiators as wing shapes on her boots, but making them actual wings on her back makes the disassembly image all the more unsettling.
I changed the hairstyle on the white marble girl when I drew the main drawing because I wanted to evoke like, greco-roman marble statues, and so a curlier/braided look worked better than the cute pixie cut of the empty vessels. I'm really happy with how the final product looks. I knew I wasn't gonna be able to half-ass it with the rendering, you know, just a little shading along the edge; this required a lot of careful thought and it was a lot of fun to do! Especially where the craters interact with the terminator (line between light and dark), just like on the Moon, which I have a lot of experience sketching (see below--the following sketches were made while looking through telescopes at the Moon at night)
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Here's a WIP of just the line-art:
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and with the basic shading done on the marblegirl
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I started with like, a cel-shaded look (?), and then went in and softened the edges, then went over it again to fix the craters. I also added the marble texture to the unshaded base layer.
For the Piccard-5 girl, I spent a lot of time trying to get the pose right. I wanted it to be a little stiff, she's in a suspension beam after all, but not too stiff? And I had to decide like, what pieces should be detached, and where should they be going. In the render, hull pieces are often displaced towards the side, but when doing that to a humanoid, it ruined the pose too much, so i avoided doing too much weird stuff to the torso and kept the disassembled pieces largely to one axis. The cross sections are hollow because they're ship decks. She's a spaceship, not a robot girl. The warp ring was suspiciously untouched by the dissassembly beam in the original render, but i had the marble girl pull a few pieces off of it in my drawing.
Probably the one thing that isn't based on something happening in the render is the belt. Like, rockets don't have belts, cosmonauts do! So that was a fun little touch.
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twistedfeys · 7 months
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ParaSenses Update
Hi everyone! We wanted to give you a little update on how the comic is moving forward, along with our work progress! We have a few notes to give for those of you who are interested, and how we plan to keep going in the future.
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Art Style
First of all we do want to say that we have found a new work flow that works a lot faster for the both of us! We were struggling in our beginnings to find a consistent art style (that some might have noticed between chapter 1.1 and chapter 1.3) that we do believe we have fully fixed. With this new found style, we are able to work between panels a lot faster.
Something we always wanted was to have our own backgrounds drawn, and our characters shaded. This will take more time to do, but we hope you all understand this artistic decision we took. We did cut corners on any heavy shading to cut back on time, but we want to give the best quality possible.
Chapter Length
The chapters have all been pre-written in advance, and we have realised just how terribly long these have ended up being. However, we do not want to cut them up to the point of releasing five to six panels a week just to push out content.
We will continue to cut our chapters in a few pieces as we have previously done (chapter 2.1, chapter 2.2, chapter 2.3, etc...) but make sure one chapter is fully done to release it ever two weeks. This will give us time to work on the next few chapters, and Patreon content. We still want to release long chapters for people to enjoy even if the time is more distanced, than releasing them in smaller increments.
Character Design
Small changes that will be done for the characters for chapter 2 is their color scheme. A small modification has been done to adjust their tone:
Blair
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Blair's colors for his clothes were too clashing with his skin and face. Not only that, the line art was hard to see on his gloves, and we felt that the red was too sharp. We made small modifications on his clothing colors-
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-for something much softer!
Xephan
We found a different kind of problem for Xephan. His color schemes completely blends together; his gloves are almost the same color as his hair, his pants are the same tone as his coat... It makes him extremely difficult to color (Avery's note: And I'm the one coloring him. So I remade his color palette.) Unfortunately, I didn't keep a before picture, but here's Xephan in the comic beforehand.
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He's blending a whole lot together. I made some very light rearrangement so his glove at least doesn't disappear if it gets in the same shot of his hair.
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It's faint, but we didn't want to make something too apparent. HOWEVER. This isn't the last change Xephan will go through. His design is overly complex, and takes too much time to do (Avery's note: Not only that, half the time I receive the line art to color and shade, Xephan is missing at least an element or two.) And so, after the first mission these two will go on, we will reduce the amount of clutter he has on him so it at least doesn't feel out of the blue.
Time Frame
Finally, when it comes down to time before the release of our chapters, we still need more time to work. Life has been hectic on our side, but we've been working everyday to make this happen, and we wanted to show you guys that this isn't a project that's been discarded. We are still working day and night to make it happen. We also have a small animatic coming up in the meantime to thank you for your patience. If you've read all of this, thank you so much for your support, and thank you for our Patreon supporting us. You guys mean the world to us!
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angellesword · 3 years
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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK | 15 (FINAL)
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Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?
Alternatively:
“A future without you is a world without color.”
Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au
Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader
Word Count: 4k
SERIES: CHAPTER 14 | SPECIAL CHAPTER 
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"You sure you don't need anything?"
You weren't sure if it was annoyance or amusement that caused you to chuckle upon hearing hesitation in your father's voice.
"I'm good, Appa." You assured him, "it's just Jeongguk. Don't worry."
You were wrong. He wasn't worried because of Jeongguk. He was worried because of you.
"Okay," your father let out a deep sigh as he tried to calm his mind. "I trust your soulmate. Have fun, love."
And just like that, the call ended.
Soulmate.
After everything that had happened, your father still believed that Jeongguk was your soulmate.
You still did too. How could you deny that fact when you could clearly see colors now?
It had been four months since your eye surgery. You didn't think it was going to be a successful, mainly because you were convinced that Jeongguk's hatred towards you was the reason why you went blind.
Apparently, it was your fault.
You knew it was reckless to drive when you were under the influence of alcohol. This wasn't just about you. This was also about the people who could have suffered because of your stupidity.
Your father was actually disappointed in you. He didn't expect you to do something like this, especially because he knew that you had a careful approach in life.
You hated being a burden. Your greatest fear was to be the reason why someone was hurting. Your father didn't understand what ticked you to break out of character, and so he asked. He asked what was wrong—causing you to break into tears.
You couldn't keep this to yourself anymore.
You told him about everything you had been going through—like how your soulmate didn't love you and how stressful being a lawyer was.
Of course your father understood, but he told you that it wasn't an excuse to put yourself and other people in danger.
There were other ways to welcome or ignore pain. You agreed since it wasn't like you planned this to happen.
Your father didn't believe in you, though. He felt like you were trying to harm yourself. This was why he called you every single day. He wanted to make sure that you weren't driving or doing things you weren't supposed to do.
He freaked out when you told him that you were going out with Jeongguk tonight. It wasn't because he hated your soulmate. Admittedly, he felt like you were lying when you told him that Jeongguk didn't love you.
That can't be right. It was obvious. Your father had met your soulmate and he saw the way Jeongguk looked and talked about you. He couldn't be wrong; the boy destined to be with you was whipped—as in madly in love with you.
His claim turned out to be true when right after your surgery; you gasped and cried so hard because finally, you could see colors.
It was too good to be true. Was this seriously happening? Was Jeongguk really in love with you?
You couldn't tell.
You used to think that seeing colors was the indication of your soulmate's love for you, but it had been months now yet Jeongguk hadn't verbally told you that he loved you.
Sure. Actions spoke louder than words. You guessed you just had to be contented with this.
The past four months felt like a dream. Jeon Jeongguk, the most stubborn and egotistical person in the world, was acting like a lovesick fool because of you.
You told yourself that you did not want to love your soulmate. You stood by this. You had been ignoring Jeongguk's attempt to 'win you over.'
(Un)fortunately, the boy just wouldn't stop.
He would send you letters written in a small sticky note every day just to tell you the sappiest thing. On the other side of the sticky note, there's an exquisite drawing of every detail about you.
You realized that it was some sort of puzzle, but you hadn't really had the chance to piece it together because you were too caught up with the words written in the sticky notes.
Note 1 Red Red is the first color in the rainbow. She is my first love, but it ended. I'm saying this because I realized that the start isn't always the end. She’s the beginning, you are my end game.
This was the first note you had received from your soulmate. It was plastered on your front door—this was also the first thing you had seen after you had been discharged from the hospital.
Note 2 Orange Orange is the color I thought I know by heart. As it turns out, I've been fooled. I have been fooled by the world, but it's okay. You helped me see.
This note was unclear to you, yet it didn't fail to make your heart feel light. You weren't aware that Jeongguk was talking about how the florist who sold him orange tulips for almost a decade, the one who fooled him.
No one could take advantage of him now, though. You helped him with this problem.
Note 3 Yellow My mom said that yellow is the prettiest color. She also said that it shines the brightest. I'm glad I didn't believe her. It wasn't bright at all. It only reminds me of the time I thought I'll lose you.
It took you long to realize what he was implying.
Yellow.
This was the color of your shirt when your car crashed. Jeongguk remembered how dark life was when you were pushing him away.
Your soulmate had sent you hundreds of letters by now. All of his notes started with colors. Out of all the things he sent you, the yellow note was what stuck to you the most.
The black world was frightening. It felt cold and lonely and Jeongguk was exactly like that. He was lonely. He suffered from a major heartbreak that was why he turned cold. He hated what Red had done to him, but he wasn't really different from his ex-girlfriend.
Jeongguk hurt you the same way Red hurt him, but your soulmate was willing to do everything to make it up to you.
Aside from the notes, you also found out that Jeongguk was the one who cooked your food each day. You got mad at Red because she failed to tell you the truth. There was even a point wherein you stopped eating the food your soulmate had prepared since you literally didn't want to do anything with him anymore.
Jeongguk was still persistent. He would always pick you up from work and then he would ask if you wanted to grab dinner with him.
You always declined his offer to take you out. Turning him down was always part of your daily routine, so you didn't know what changed this Saturday night.
Why, after four months, did you finally accept Jeongguk’s attempt to ask you out?
"Can't resist his bambi eyes, can you?" Jimin laughed on the other line. Your best friend called right after your short phone conversation with your dad. It was like everyone was interested in your business tonight.
"It's just one date, Jimin," you rolled your eyes, yet the blush in your cheeks indicated that Jimin was right.
You still couldn't resist Jeon Jeongguk.
It wasn't like you were giving into him. No. It would take more than his wide, doe eyes to melt your cold, cold heart. He hurt you after all.
But last night was different.
You were supposed to have dinner with your subordinates since it was Friday, but then you spotted Jeongguk waiting outside the building of your small law firm.
He was standing there with trembling lips. Your soulmate was freezing under the cold winter, yet he still chose to wait for you.
You see, Jeon Jeongguk was banned from entering your office. You told the securities not to let him in since he was distracting everyone at work.
Your employees just couldn't stop gushing over your soulmate to the point that they weren't able to finish their task for the day. They were always trying to get Jeongguk's attention and the most annoying part was that your soulmate didn't seem to mind—not because he was a flirt too. It was actually because he was too naïve for his own good.
So yeah. You banned him from entering the building because he was a distraction and definitely not because you were blinded by your stupid jealousy. No. Not at all.
He was your soulmate, yes, but it didn't mean you had to stay together. The only thing you two should do was to try to be casual and not hate each other.
You couldn't afford to make Jeongguk hate you. This was the only rational reason why you agreed to go out on a date with him tonight. You were just scared and guilty for letting him wait for you in the snow.
"Whatever you say," you could imagine Jimin's teasing expression despite not seeing his face. "Have fun, okay? Love you!"
"Ditto! See you soon," you pressed the end bottom of your phone as your doorbell rang.
Seven pm. You bit your lower lip, glancing at the clock. Jeongguk was right on time. He told you last night that he would be outside of your door at exactly seven in the evening.
You sighed and fixed your hair a little before opening the door.
Jeongguk practiced speaking the things he would say to you tonight in front of the mirror. He swore he prepared so hard because he didn't want to disappoint you. He felt like this was his only shot with you, unfortunately it seemed like he was destined to fuck things up with you again.
"Oh fuck," his eyes dilated upon seeing you.
You were wearing this pretty dress that accentuated your curves. You looked so expensive and exquisite that Jeongguk felt like he was out of place.
Your soulmate was wearing a thick sweater and black sweatpants. His hair was messier because of the winter wind.
"You're not dressed." This was the first thing you said to him. The scowl on your face made him think that you already regretted agreeing to spend this night with him.
He was wrong. You were only frowning because you felt embarrassed. You took your sweet time preparing for this date. You even rushed to buy a fancy dress just this morning, causing you to feel like a fool.
It was clear now that you were more excited than the man who practically begged you to go out with him.
"I-I just thought it'd be better to stay home because of the weather." The boy said sheepishly while showing you the home cooked food he had prepared for this date.
You swallowed hard.
"Come in." And then you opened the door wider for him.
Jeongguk let out a sigh of relief. At least you did not kick him out. He wouldn't know what to do if that happened. He missed your home so much. He missed Miri as well. Too bad the fury pet wasn't around.
Miri visited the Kims' mansion every Saturday. Red picked the cat earlier this day. She said Miri was the only one that could make Soobin smile. Red and Seokjin, the newlywed couple, were only allowed to visit Soobin every Saturday. They always take the little boy to a nice place with your cat Miri.
Jeongguk realized that it was a blessing in disguise that the cat wasn't around since no one was scratching the couch where you and him currently sat on.
Jeongguk's idea for this date night was to simply watch some movies while eating. He thought that this was the perfect plan, sadly it looked like you didn't share the same sentiment.
"Jeongguk," irritation was laced in your voice as you called your soulmate's name.
You were irritated for the reason that you felt like he didn't really want to be here.
Jeongguk seemed preoccupied. It was apparent when you asked him what film he wanted to watch. He simply said 'whatever you want," while staring at you blankly.
You let it pass at first, but you couldn't ignore it now that the movie had ended and it appeared like he didn't even realize.
Jeongguk was silent beside you, but he couldn't sit without fidgeting. The air was awkward. He looked awkward, like he was uncomfortable or something. He wasn't even eating his food.
"Did you like the movie? Were you scared?"
"Uh," Jeongguk was staring again. "I'm...yeah. It's pretty scary,"
"Oh." You narrowed your eyes at him. "I didn't know you were afraid of zombies."
"Yeah. I am," he wasn’t and you knew it.
You huffed, crossing your arms. He was such a liar.
"The movie that we just watched," you gritted your teeth. "Isn't about zombies, Jeongguk. It's not even a horror film. It's Toy Story 4!"
You were annoyed. Why did Jeongguk even ask to be with you when he wasn’t going to pay attention to you or to the things the two of you were supposed to do?
"I'm sorry..."
And there's it again. The insincere apology. He was always sorry, but he never changed.
"You know what? Just go home. I..." You trailed off as tears filled your eyes.
Why did you always have to make a fool of yourself because of him?
"I don't want you here."
Jeongguk's heart sank upon hearing the words that left your mouth.
"No please," he also turned pale, eyes turning wide because he wasn't expecting this date to turn out like this. What he wanted to happen was to enjoy the winter night cuddled with you as the two of you watched a romantic movie.
Jeongguk imagined watching Love 911 to give you an idea of some of the things he wanted to try with you.
"What do you mean no? It's obvious that you don't want to be here. You're not even paying attention."
"It's not like that," he avoided your gaze.
You only scoffed. Typical Jeongguk. Always telling you that you didn't get him.
"Then what is it? Why do you look uncomfortable? Why do you look like you don't want to be here—"
"I told you it's not like that!" He was staring at you using those big eyes. His thin beckoning lips protruded into a pout.
"I just!" He sighed like he found it hard to explain what he felt. "Can't concentrate on other things because all I can think about is you!”
"What—"
He didn't let you finish. Jeongguk was rambling. He was nervous. He didn't want you to get mad at him again.
"Your dress really looks so good on you and your make up is really nice. You're really pretty...and really beautiful and really sexy and I really just...really—"
"Huh." you pouted, slightly cringing because of his excessive use of the word really. "So now you're blaming the way I look?"
You were teasing him to get rid of the funny feeling in your stomach. Damn Jeongguk for confusing the hell out of you. You were supposed to be annoyed, but why were you smiling?
And why the hell was it so easy to melt into him?
"No!" Jeongguk groaned. He was getting frustrated. You seemed to always twist his words and extrapolate things.
"Look..." He closed his eyes since he couldn't bear to look at you anymore. He was scared to see the disappointment in your eyes.
"I just love you okay? Like really, really, in love with you."
Jeongguk's heartbeat doubled when you didn't speak.
Silence engulfed the whole room that he was forced to open his eyes.
His heart went even crazier. It was beating erratically.
Why were you staring at him with an agape mouth?
"What did you say?" You were no longer in the mood to fool around. Sure, you were teasing Jeongguk, but it didn't mean he could also joke about feelings and love.
It wasn't fair.
"I love you?" Jeongguk said, unsure.
He wasn't unsure of his feelings. He just didn't know if you were referring to the last words he uttered.
"You...love me?" You were still in doubt.
Jeongguk simply nodded his head; a soft smile was plastered on his lips as he scrunched his nose. You knew this look well. This was his genuine self and it only meant one thing.
He wasn't lying.
"But..." you bit the inside of your cheek. "This is the first time you told me that."
"I thought it's obvious?" Jeongguk mirrored your confused expression.
He expressed what he felt for you by singing. Jeongguk thought you understood.
You did not. The song lifted your spirit and you also found the gesture sweet, but you still didn't realize it was his way of confessing.
"I mean..." Jeongguk pouted his lips more. "Your eyes tell, right? You can see colors now."
As soon as these words escaped his mouth, Jeongguk felt like he had been hit by a truck—crushing his bones and telling him how stupid he was for crossing the street even though there were signs that told him to stop.
Signs.
The signs had been there all along.
"You love me..." Jeongguk blurted out. His realization was too sudden that he couldn't help but a cry a little.
You panicked as you asked him what was wrong.
"I wasted six months because of how stupid I am!" His answer was unclear.
"Gukkie," you put your hands on the either side of his shoulder, urging him to look at you. "You're not making sense. Speak slowly."
Jeongguk shook his head, tears still painting his cheeks. It was funny how the situation kept on turning around. Just a few breaths ago, you were the one who was on the verge of crying.
"I told you you didn't understand!" Jeongguk was still not making sense, but you decided to stay quiet and let him speak.
It looked like he needed an outlet for the reason that his emotions were overflowing.
"I left b'cause I thought...you...d-din't love me!" He sobbed and your heart cracked.
How could he think this way when all you had ever done was make him feel the love you felt for him?
Jeongguk's twisted expression told you that you had voiced out the question running inside your mind out loud.
"I called you delusional since I believed that you really are," he was bringing back the wounds that you were trying so hard to forget.
Still, you didn't stop him from speaking.
"H-How can you be sure you love me when I myself know that I am not worthy of your love?"
Jeongguk knew that he had always been mean to you. He hadn't done anything to make you fall in love with him that was why he was questioning your feelings.
It wasn't him whom you loved. It was the idea of him being your soulmate. You liked the thought that there was someone out there for you.
It made sense now, though. The fact that he could see colors brightly made him realize that your feelings were real, but it didn't mean he understood your reasons.
Jeongguk stood by his statement. He was unworthy of your love.
"You're not doubting yourself, Jeongguk." You shook your head at him, proving him otherwise. "You are doubting my feelings for you."
This wasn't about Jeongguk's beliefs. This was about you. You grew up thinking that when you felt like everything was collapsing, your only choice was to trust what you feel was right. It's because at the end of the day, you were going to be the one to face the consequence of your actions—not your parents, not your friends, and not even your soulmate. They would be affected by your decisions, yes, but only indirectly.
They could make their own choices that would directly affect their lives even if their choice was based on your decision. People would end up having different results even though they walked on the same path.
"But why me?" Jeongguk sounded broken as he asked this. It hurt you to think that he really thought so lowly of himself.
He couldn't be blamed. He loved Red before; however, it was still not enough. He had moved on from her, but it didn't mean that all the scars would fade away.
His first breakup up caused him to think that despite giving your one hundred percent, it would still be lacking for some people.
But you weren't some people.
You were you and you had your reason.
"Sometimes you don't need a reason to love someone." Your reason was not having a reason at all.
Your soulmate wasn't sure if he agreed to what you said.
Jeongguk didn't believe that just because things existed, it was already valid. Validation cannot be valid if one would not give enough reasons to prove why it's worth validating.
This was the reason why Jeongguk was questioning the love you claimed you felt. He needed reasons. He was just a human after all—always in need of affection and reassurance.
"I mean...I tried thinking of a reason why I shouldn't love you, but I just can't find any." Your confession made Jeongguk blush.
You had always been straight forward.
The way you loved was the opposite of how your soulmate loved. This was probably the explanation why it took him long to admit his feelings for you.
As stated, Jeongguk was in constant need of reason. His drawings of you were his proof of the love he felt.
"If you can't find any reason, then just allow me to tell you the million reasons why I love you."
He didn't wait for your answer. Jeongguk simply moved closer to you. His face was just inches away from yours.
"You're smart." And then he kissed your forehead.
You weren't only a book smart. You were emotionally intelligent. You had taught Jeongguk a lot of things, especially when it came to forgiveness and compassion.
"You're brave." He kissed you left eye.
He remembered the night you told him you liked him. It was in front of many people. You didn't hesitate even when he was running away.
"You're patient and understanding," he kissed your right eye.
You tried to understand Jeongguk's annoying attitude.
"You work hard in all aspects." He kissed your nose.
"You're beautiful," he kissed your left cheek.
You really were. Inside and out.
"It's you,"
Jeongguk didn't know if he could love someone who wasn't you.
"Most importantly, I love you because you are my soulmate." And then he kissed you on the lips.
You laughed in between the kiss, but you didn't stop kissing him back.
Did you forgive him?
The answer was yes.
Were you ready to love him again?
Perhaps.
Were you still hurt by his actions before?
Yes.
Did you want to be with him?
Yes.
There were many questions flooding your mind right now. Some of your answers might not be the truth, maybe you were just too happy right now—caught up in the moment because you were in Jeongguk's arms again.
But it didn't matter now because one thing was sure.
You were willing to love Jeon Jeongguk again because you didn't want to repeat his mistake.
You didn't want to lose your soulmate just because of hatred and denial.
Things were clear now.
Jeon Jeongguk loved you and the world was no longer black and white.
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 BONUS: (a poem made by young OC that made her realize why she should trust her own feelings)
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holy. after 6 weeks???? i’m finally done writing this baby. wow. thank you thank you everyone for reading this—especially those people who never failed to send me feedback. i love you all!
New fic alert! READ HERE >> SAVE ME - Demon!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader
YES. I LIKE USING BTS’ songs as the title of my fanfics. 😅
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stephreynaart · 3 years
Text
Gravity Falls - “Waiting”
Pop-Pop AU
Stan sits in a hospital waiting room, thinking about his life and the people he loves.
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This is kinda old, but I realized I never posted it on tumblr. Hope ya like it!
Lots of fluff, the only ships are Soos and Melody.
AO3 LINK
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It had a square aspect ratio. Ink pen and watercolor on white heat pressed cotton paper in a bland white frame. One single blue flower in a red vase with what looks like a yellowish shadow. One shadow going left, the other going right. The lack of confidence and inexperience was obvious, the lines were unfocused and jagged, the color plainly filled the shapes and gave no other visual interest to the image.
Below the frame was a small white card that read “Painting donated by Jessica Blaise from Gravity Falls Elementary School”
Stan scanned the painting at least 20 times while sitting in that chair. The too rough and too soft at the same time chair that had similar copies populating the almost white room he sat in. The wallpaper bouncing off light pinks and blues with tiny ducklings as a makeshift wainscoting was starting to irritate the old man. It was too bright, and the consistent buzz of the fluorescent lights seemed so loud. Stan adjusted himself in his chair, switching his crossed legs to a wider spread and leaned his head against the wall.
The only other stimulus in the room were a few posters promoting proper hand washing techniques, the play area with a small table and chairs with large blocks, crayons and that weird “game” with the metal wiring and wooden beads that’s in every waiting room Stan’s ever sat in. He played with the toys to give himself something to do after he read all the magazines. The novelty wore off fast.
The television mounted on the wall was airing some cooking channel with no sound and no subtitles. Looking at food when you haven’t eaten in a few hours was practically torture, so Stan had been averting his eyes.
There were other paintings on the wall, one was less of a painting, but instead a print of a painting. He doubted that the artist got any compensation from it, if they were still alive. The other was a charcoal drawing done by a student from the community college a town away. Another square, but the entire image was black, the brightest thing on the page was an intruding infant hand coming from the left with the arm fading into the dark background. The fingers seemingly mid-twitch and grabbing at something. The lighting was dynamic and interesting. Stan swore it was a drawing of a penis the first time he glanced at it, which resulted in his brother’s laughter. Stanley smiled at the memory, it was only a few hours ago, but he relishes any time he can make Stanford laugh.
Stan’s eyes darted at the door in the far corner when it opened suddenly. He eased back into his chair when the nurse crossed the room to talk with the receptionist. He couldn’t hear the conversation very well, but could tell they were just gossiping and making jokes. Nothing that was of his interest. So he looked back to the elementary school child’s painting and analyzed it again. His eyes were dry and he was tired. He wished he could sleep, the chair wasn’t comfortable enough and when he did managed to sleep, his neck was sore when he woke up. He was only lucky Ford let him use his shoulder as a pillow for a while. He looked to his left and noted the book his brother placed in the seat. It seemed thick and in what looked like Hebrew. Stan wasn’t very surprised Ford was fluent in the language they were acquainted with as children. Their grandparents on their father’s side were the last to be fully fluent in Hebrew. It was like his brother to be curious of their heritage, but Stan only remembered a few phrases and words he learned from holidays and special event when he had to recite anything in Temple.
Stan crossed his arms and glanced at the clock on the wall and let out an exasperated sigh. It had only been 10 minutes since he last checked the time. He wanted to be at home, be in his soft warm bed and getting ready to eat pancakes at this time in the morning.
He and Ford were on the porch of The Mystery Shack when Soos rushed them off to the hospital the yesterday afternoon. What he originally thought would be a couple of hours of waiting turned into almost twelve. Apparently labour can last a long time.
Stan wished he could be a witness for Soos and Melody like he was when Dipper and Mabel were born, but Melody wanted her privacy, which Stan could respect, but Soos wanted him there…..so he and Ford waited in this bright, annoyingly pastel waiting room, twiddling his thumbs awaiting the arrival of the new member of the mystery family. He was glad he was in at least comfortable clothes, some gray sweatpants and a sweater Mabel knitted for him that read “godfather”.
He was never clear on what the title entailed, but it was mentioned a few times by Soos’ grandmother and the kids insisted that Soos was intending to ask him. He hadn’t, but he didn’t protest Stan wearing the sweater. Whatever job godfathers had, he was willing to play the part if Soos were to ask him.
Stan looked at the double doors a few feet away that lead out of the waiting room and into the halls. His brother left to find something for them to eat, but was taking his sweet time. The turkey being basted on the television was no help in aiding his growling stomach.
He distracted himself by returning his thoughts to Soos and Melody. Just down the hall they were experiencing the strange and beautiful phenomenon that was witnessing the arrival of a brand new person. Stan remembered the feeling so clearly. His entire life he’s felt the presence of human beings. It’s inherent in most people to feel when someone is in the room with you, the other soul sharing the same space as you. Imagine being in a room with a set amount of people and someone else comes in, but imagine they came in without using a doorway. Just appearing seemingly out of thin air. Suddenly another person is with you, and they’re brand new to the world, a life full of potential and power. Yes, today is indeed a happy day, but no amount of positive thinking would ease Stan’s nerves. His foot began to bounce and his hands unconsciously began to fiddle with each other. He didn’t want to think anything would go wrong with Soos’ baby, but anything can happen and life is so fragile, especially at the start of it.
He recalled his nephew’s nervousness the day Dipper and Mabel were born. His hands were shaking and he was constantly checking on his wife and asking the doctors loads of questions. He didn’t fully understand the twins’ father’s behavior until the end of that day.
Mabel’s birth was swift and easy. Her mother only needed to push one and a half times before she was here. It was as if she was eager to meet everyone waiting for her. She cried like most babies do, but Stan could’ve sworn they were tears of joy. While Mabel was greeted with, “hello, beautiful”, “hi, sweetie” and “she’s perfect”, Her brother’s introduction to world started with, “what’s wrong?”, “wait, let me hold him”, and “he’s not moving”. Dipper was rushed out of the room before his mother got a chance to look at him. Stan managed to catch a glimpse of the horrifyingly blue tint on his great nephew’s tiny face. The memory still gave him chills. He remembered how much he wanted to hold Mabel, who began to fuss and cry, obviously missing her brother. He was terrified at the prospect of another incomplete set of twins in their family. After the longest 30 minute of his life, Stan’s great-nephew returned with a bright pink face, wailing with all the power his little lungs could produce. Once the twins were reunited in their mother’s arms, they settled down almost instantly. The doctors told their parents Dipper was significantly lighter in weight than his sister, but both were very strong and healthy. Every so often Stan thinks about Dipper and how much he has impacted his life. His thoughts lead to darker places and he questions if Ford would be here if Dipper wasn’t there to find the third journal. He shook his head as a cold shiver went up his spine.
Stan did his best to distract himself from revisiting the scare that Dipper caused him 16 years ago.
16 years…..17 in August
Stan blinked. The squishy, bright faces that stayed with him that first summer had changed significantly. They stayed in contact all year round and visited every summer since they were 12. But every in-person meeting was always a shock. Dipper was developing the square jaw Stan, both his brothers and nephew shared. He started to regularly wear glasses their second summer with the Stans. Poor kid will grow up looking like Filbrick like the rest of the Pines men. He reminded Stan of Ford at that age.
And Mabel…..
Stan will never get over how much she looks like his mother. It didn’t strike him until Soos and Melody’s wedding and she put her hair in a bun. She’s calmed her hyperactivity down a bit, but not by a lot, she still brightens his day with her wit and creativity. They’ve both matured physically, but not much has changed personality wise and they still acted like big children when they’re around each other. Stan loved them very much, and wished he could see them more often. He wondered what the future held for all of them. Would they still visit town after going to college? Would they move here? Or somewhere else?
He’s had several conversations with them to see how they’re managing the prospect of separating. They’re much better at communicating than he and Ford were and they seem actually excited to have some independence. It made Stan nervous, but he was sure their close relationship wouldn’t suffer.
Wendy chose to be elsewhere for the next few years. She and her friends booked a plane ticket and plan to backpack and hitchhike around Europe and the UK. Stan hopes they stay safe and watch out for each other. Lotta weirdos in Amsterdam. She was set to leave in the coming days, Wendy wanted to wait until today arrived so she could meet Soos and Melody’s kid before going away for who knows how long.
A tap on the shoulder woke Stan from his deep thoughts. His brother arrived with some warm sub sandwiches and coffee.
“Any word yet?, he asked Stan
“Nothin’ yet”, Stan felt helpless not having any clue how Soos and Melody were doing.
Stanford took his seat next to Stanley and they both silently enjoyed their late breakfast. Since arriving they’ve witnessed families reuniting and going past the door in the far corner to meet their children, grandchildren or siblings. Stan looked at the clock again. How has it only been another 5 minutes? He sighed, leaned back and finished the rest of his sub. One hand holding the sandwich, the other went back to gripping the arm rest, then a six fingered hand went down to rest on top of it. Stan let go of the armrest and tangled his fingers between Ford’s and held onto it with a, hopefully not too tight, grip. It was like an anchor to reality, much better at easing his anxieties than any words could. Over the past 4 years, Stan and Ford’s bond grew stronger. Stan still feared one day he would wake up and find himself still in that basement surrounded by broken machinery and languages he didn’t understand. He hasn’t yet, and was enjoying the time he had left with his twin. Stan took a moment to look at his brother again, Ford made eye contact and smiled then continued to read his book. Hands still intertwined
Stans thoughts went back to Soos…
It amazed Stan how much he had grown and it still baffled him that Soos idolized him as much as he does. Before Soos, Stan had no one. His brother was….gone, the rest of the family didn’t talk to him much outside of the holidays and special occasion. There hadn’t been any sense of consistency in Stan’s life for years, decades even, until he hired the chubby little kid he barely glanced at one random Saturday. Soos always arrived to work early, sometimes with breakfast for both of them. Stan didn’t know how much he needed a reliable companion until he had it and he enjoyed the 10 years he had with that kid… or man he should say. Here he was…a few rooms away, becoming a father.
Stan used to daydream a lot about the prospect of having kids when he was younger. He’s was always good with them when he had the chance to babysit his nephew, then later Dipper and Mabel when they were toddlers. He loved having kids in his house that first summer. He loved the energy and the sense of adventure the twins brought. They gave him a sense of purpose and belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He wished he was brave enough to have his own children. Not that he was ever with anyone long enough to want to have kids with him. He supposed it was for the best that he didn’t subject a child to homelessness or an unhappy marriage. He was also terrified at the idea. His dad used to say having kids ruined his life. He wondered who his father was before his older brother was born. Did they really ruin his life? Stan often wondered if he would be like his own dad if he has children of his own. Would he change and become that annoyed parent that resenting his children?
He thought about Soos again
That was probably the closest to parenthood he ever experienced. The first time he felt like one was when Soos asked him for homework help after closing. He initially told Soos no, he wasn’t exactly smart and didn’t think he would be any help. It apparently upset the kid, so Stan sighed and gave it a try. It was fairly simple middle school math, he didn’t remember everything, but helped Soos do more than half of it. Soos thanked him and went home happy. Stan felt weirdly proud, he was glad he made a small difference and managed to teach Soos something he didn’t even know he knew.
The second time was when Soos was a teenager. His grandmother wasn’t able to teach Soos to drive, since she had forgotten how and her late husband used to do the driving, she mostly walked everywhere. Soos offered to work for free so Stan could teach him. Stan loved driving and found teaching Soos cathartic. He was a fast and eager learner, he only bumped Stan’s car once while trying to figure out parallel parking. Little did Soos know that he was getting paid for his normal work hours. Stan just put it away long enough to help buy the kid some old used truck in the junkyard for getting his license. They fixed the truck up and in only a few weeks it was ready to be on the road. Soos has taken good care of it and it’s still his ride to this day
Stan was very proud of Soos. He taught the kid some basic self defense and managed to be a decent influence in his life. Soos at least has his priorities straight.
Stan was even glad to see that Soos was willing to question him. When the portal was reaching the final countdown, he didn’t hesitate to protect the kids from him when he thought Stan was dangerous. He didn’t know, none of them did, so he didn’t blame Soos for distrusting him. He hoped he never had to betray him again. They both had crappy dads, and Stan knew how Soos saw him. Stan was never really sure if he reciprocated those feelings. It felt natural to act the part, but to put a label as important as “dad” on Stan was daunting. Soos definitely deserves better than what he was given, Stan wasn’t sure if he was it.
Stan looked up at the familiar voices running towards him from the double doors.
“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” Mabel waved to them
The two teenagers and Wendy walked in holding a balloon and various toys. They took some seats across from the Stans and asked how everyone was doing and if the baby arrived yet.
“Not yet, hopefully soon” Ford answered
Stan relaxed and silently enjoyed his family’s company. He laid his head back and leaned slightly on Ford to rest for a minute. His eyes shut as he listened to the kids joke around and talk amongst themselves. He squeezed Ford’s hand one more time before drifting off.
He knew he should’ve tried sleeping earlier, he wasn’t out for more than 15 minutes when Soos came into the waiting room. Stan’s eyes shot open and he was on his feet faster than he did when he was being chased by angry costumers as a door to door salesman. Soos’ red eyes sagged and he seemed exhausted, but carried a proud, wide smile across his face. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.
“It’s a boy”, he squeaked, “mom and baby are okay”
Dipper and Mabel were first to start the hugs, and the room filled with cheers of congratulations and love. Stan felt light as a feather giving Soos a hug and joking about child labor.
“Can we see him?”, Mabel bounced with anticipation
“Yeah, dudes!”, Soos gestured everyone past the corner door and into the suite. “But only for a little while, Melody has to sleep”
The room was small, dimly lit and warm. The Pines crew collectively lowered their voices as Melody came into view on the bedding holding a bundle of blankets decorated with small yellow ducklings. She was leaned back on a large pillow, covered in blankets and toted a soft smile on her face. Soos stroked her hair and picked up his little son to show to the Pines’. The younger twins got a look at him first,
Mabel squealed and cooed at the tiny infant. Then Wendy, who said hi to the baby and told Soos she’d make sure to send him gifts while she was away
“What’s his name?”, Mabel asked Melody
“I named him after my dad”, Melody replied, “Jacob”. She smiled sadly at the memory of the father she lost the year before.
Soos approached the Stans, Ford smiled and complimented the couple on a having such beautiful little boy, but shot Soos a look, who silently replied with another one. Something was up.
Finally Stan got a look at baby Jacob. “Wow” Stan smiled, patting Soos’ arm. “He looks exactly like you”
Soos laughed, “really? I think he looks like Melody”, there was a short silence before Soos spoke up again.
“Do you want to hold him, Mr Pines?”
Stan looked at Soos and smiled, “heh, sure”. He held his arms out. Soos lowered his arms to pass the baby to Stan, who scrunched his face up and started to fuss. Stan took the infant and managed to hold him with one arm. He bounced and shushed little Jacob until he calmed down. “Heya kid”, He’s held babies dozens of times, but something felt different about this one. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Stan felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. Jacob settled comfortably against Stan and continued his rest. Stan softly beamed at the tiny person in his arms.
“Hey, Stan?”
Stan lifted an eyebrow and looked at Soos, who was fidgeting with his hands and nervously smiling.
“Uh..”, he paused, taking in the sight of Stan holding his child. “You know about my dad”, Soos looked at Ford again, who shrugged and nodded. Stan studied Ford’s face, who’s eyes strayed away as he hid a small smile. Soos got his attention again.
“You uh…he wasn’t…”, Soos choked up, his voice strained a bit, “I met you when I was probably the loneliest I ever was in my entire life”. Stan pictured the little boy he hired on the spot, he didn’t remember him until Soos showed up at his door step the next day ready to work. He didn’t know how much that quick, thoughtless decision would change his life.
Soos perked up and walked across the room to a table and picked up the piece of paper sitting on it. Soos glanced at it, then at Stan and smiled, gaining some emotional strength it seemed.
“You mean a lot me”, Soos, “you were there when I really needed it, you gave me a job, taught me just about everything I know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that”
Stan got a bit nervous, Was this him asking to be the godfather?Everyone was silent and curiously watching. Soos held his hand out and handed the paper to Stan. He adjusted his arm to properly hold Jacob in his arm and took it. Stan flipped the page and noticed it was the baby’s birth certificate. Stan eyes bounced off the page and read the various information: birthdate, weight, parents, but he froze when he read the full name. Stan’s wide eyes questioningly studied Soos’ face.
“Are you…”, Stan felt his own throat tightening, crap. Come on, not in front of everyone “really?”, he asked. Soos gave a genuine nod and sniffed.
“I uh” Soos cleared his throat, “I was wondering, since Jacob doesn’t have one…if you wanted to be…. his grandpa?
There it was
Stan felt dizzy and took a small step back before remembering who was in his hands and regained his balance. Ford came to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Stan decide not to look at his brother and chose to stare forward, then his eyes went back to Soos, who look deflated. Oh man. Stan was terrified, he didn’t want to say no and hurt Soos, but if he said yes….he wasn’t sure what made him so nervous. The entire concept sounded so alien to him, like he didn’t deserve the title. He always considered Soos, Melody and their son a part of his family. But to bare a title like “grandpa”, had to mean he had children that that children. That he was already a parent without his knowledge. It all felt so natural to want to lean into this and become part of this family like Soos wanted.
He heard something make a noise from beneath himself. Stan looked down at little Jacob, who was mid yawn. The baby’s mouth grew wide opens and inhaled, scrunching up his face and suddenly shut. Suddenly two tiny eyes opened for just a few seconds, enough time for Stan to make eye contact before Jacob shut them and got comfortable again
Everything was different now.
Stan didn’t notice how quiet the room had gotten nor the tears forming in his eyes. Stunned by beauty and overcome with pride and a sense of purpose. The pride he felt teaching Soos math, how to drive and attending his graduation all combined just looking at the perfect being in his arms. If he said yes, he would want everything that came with it. Stan lifted the birth certificate up to read the name again.
Jacob Stanley Ramirez
“Y-Yes”, he heard a shaken voice say, almost not realizing it was his own “of course”. He looked at Soos, tears in his eyes and a bright smile on his face. He still wasn’t sure if he deserved this, but Stan wanted it. He wanted it all. Why not indulge just this once? He gave the certificate to Ford and used his now free hand to pull Soos into a hug. Gently sandwiching his…..grandson in between him……and his son.
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the-broken-truth · 3 years
Note
I love all your headcanons with the Dimitrescu daughters, so hats off to you, if it doesn't bother, can you do a headcanon about the 3 daughters with a male S/O on their wedding night?
Broken Truth: Hmm, that sounds simple enough. Let the words...
*STATIC*: Broken, wait. I have an idea.
Broken Truth (Looks at the mask): Let me hear it, *STATIC*.
*STATIC*: Do you remember the ask you did for Lady Dimitrescu meeting her daughters' partners: Th Village Painter, The Village Jeweler, and The Village Blacksmith?
Broken Truth: Yes, what about them?
*STATIC*: Here's my idea. (Whispering something)
Broken Truth: Oh! I like that idea! Let's go with that. Let the words weave together! - Names - Bela's Partner - The Village Artist - His name shall be Magnus. Cassandra's Partner - The Village Jeweler - His name shall be Matias. Daniela's Partner - The Village Blacksmith - His name shall be Maximus.
[At The Wedding of Magnus Vilkas & Bela Dimitrescu]
The Court of Castle Dimitrescu was decorated with the finest exports all across Romania - The Vilkas Lord spared to expense when it came to making his future wife happy; she was the very light of his life.
He stood in the room allowed her future son-in-law to use to prepare himself, looking himself in the mirror as he adjusted his tie.
The gleam of his Family Ring shined in the light when he secured his tie around his neck. He holds out his dominant hand, looking upon the colored gems that created his Family Crest. This ring gave him so much power and standing as a Noble Village House but at the same time, it brought back a very painful memory.
Before the Lord of House Vilkas could think back on it, there was a knock at the door. He spoke to the other person on the other side of the door, commanding them to enter: The door opened and a familiar face stepped into the room - The Village's Jeweler, Matias.
"Greetings, Lord Vilkas." The Jeweler bowed but it was met with a scoff from the Lord.
"Do not bow to me, Matias. You are a Vilkas as well, besides you're my twin brother; no formalities." The Lord said as he faced his brother.
"Regardless of our blood bind as brothers, you are still the Lord of House Vilkas and must be treated as such, even by blood,
" Matias said.
"Speaking of blood..." Magnus inhaled and exhaled before asking his question, "Did he come?" He asked.
"No. When I went to his house to see if he would attend, he slammed to door in my face; he says he wants nothing to do with the Vilkas Family." Matias explained causing the lord to turn his gaze to the ground in what looked to be heartbreak, "My Lord, it was not your fault." He said.
"Oh, really? Then why is he not here? It was my birth that ruined his life and...it's not fair - we were both robbed: Him of his rightful place and me an older brother." The Lord of Vilkas said.
"Brother, you and I were born on the same day but you are the only one he blames. If anyone is to blame, it's father; he was the selfish bastard that robbed us both." Matias said as he walked over to his elder brother and placed his hand on his shoulder, "Try not to think about this today, it's a very special day."
"Yes, you are right. Today is the day I marry the most amazing woman on the face of the Earth." Magnus smiled.
"Second best, Brother - My Cassandra is the most beautiful." Matias said with a smirk
The brothers argued over which sister was the most lovely when they saw the time and finished up before heading down the Courtyard.
The music - composed by Matias on the keyboard - began to play as Bela - wrapped in the finest silks that made her dress - walked down the aisle by her mother with her youngest sister walking behind her with a basket of black rose petals, throwing them in the air.
Once Bela reached the front, her hands locked with Magnus', who looked into her eyes with tears in his own.
"You are a true gem, my beloved." He said.
"Thank you, My Lord."
Mother Miranda - who took the position of a power of a priestess - called out to the guests: The Lords, The Daughters of Dimitrescu, and the residence of House Vilkas.
Once the vows were read and the 'I Do's were side, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
And he did, with all the love in his heart - which was endless.
[At The Wedding of Matias Vilkas & Cassandra Dimitrescu]
The Famed Jeweler of the Romanian Village smiled at himself in the mirror as he fixed his suit's jacket with a wide smile on his face - the Vilkas Family Crest Brooch secured to his chest over his heart and soon, he was going to place the crest of the Dimitrescu Dragons beside his own.
"You smile as if you are the cat that devoured creme." His elder brother chuckled from his place by the dresser, "You are really happy, aren't you?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I am going to marry the most incredible woman on the face of this planet - a true goddess given human form." Matias beamed as he fixed his tie.
"We've been through this, Little Brother - Bela is the most incredible." Magnus scoffed.
"Your opinion - Not Fact. Besides, My Cassandra shall always be the most amazing woman in my eyes; she is just too perfect to explain with words. I'm glad Madam Dimitrescu allowed me the privilege of marrying her daughter, I don't deserve her." Matias said with a smile as he thought back.
"I thought the same thing when I was getting married to Bela - she still is a wonder I shall never really deserve but I will always treasure." Magnus smiled.
"Oh, speaking of you two - I heard Madam Dimitrescu told you she wanted a grandchild soon." Matias said as he looked back at his brother, whose face was bright red.
"As much as Mother-In-Law would want a grandchild, I told her that I was waiting on Bela to be ready - we shall have a child when Bela is ready, not a moment before then." Magnus said.
"Good to know you treasure your wife's decision, did she finish redecorating the Family House?" Matias asked.
"So far, she can't seem to choose what she wants to change or what rooms she wants to make into her private rooms. On a better note, the staff willingly let Bela fed off them if she gets hungry and I'm not around. How's your construction going?" Magnus asked.
"Almost done, Cass held me draw up the plans so I know she's going to love the place. It will be ready in a weak." Matias said.
The brothers looked at the clock and saw it was almost time for the bride to come. They finished up with their own preparations and headed down the courtyard.
The violinists that Magnus hired began playing the song as Cassandra walked down the aisle with a bouquet of black roses in her hands & a smile on her face with a gleam in her eyes.
Matias stood at the altar with Mother Miranda with a smile on his face as his future wife came up and they linked hands.
"You are so breathtaking, My Beloved." Matias said.
"Thank you, you're very handsome yourself."
Mother Miranda began her rites - blessing the young couple before her and everyone else with long life, eternal love & endless happiness before the 'I do's were said and the marital bond sealed with a kiss.
Everyone was so busy celebrating the newly married couple that they didn't notice a large cloaked figure walk to the table that held the gits and place a small envelope on the table.
The feast began and the presents were given, The Lord of Iron found the envelope and didn't remember it being there at first and gave it to the new couple.
Matias opened it and turned it upside down, a pair of shiny keys landed in the palm of his other hand.
"Are those house keys?" Cassandra asked.
"Yes, but they told us that the house wasn't going to be done for another week... did they lie so that it would be a surprise?" Matias questioned.
"Well, looks like you'll be living together sooner than expected." Magnus smiled as he placed his hand on his wife's hip to pull her closer.
"It would seem so." He looked to his wife, "Darling, what would you like to decorate the house with?" He asked.
[At The Wedding of Maximus & Daniela Dimitrescu]
Alcina already didn't approve of Maximus' relationship with her youngest daughter - but this proposal filled the Lady of the Castle with rage.
She knew that she wouldn't be able to stop her daughter from loving Maximus, but she could prevent the wedding from happening on her Castle Grounds.
Daniela was upset that her mother was against her marriage just because her lover wasn't as rich as her sisters, but he loved her and he was willing to be hurt if it meant she was going to be safe.
Maximus told her beloved that it didn't matter - he could make them a great wedding, all he needed to know was where she wanted it to happen and what she wanted for it.
Daniela wanted her wedding to overlook the ocean at sunset - the light would be perfect. Maximus would give her everything she wanted but there was only one thing he asked for.
"I don't want the Vilkas Lords at the wedding."
When questioned by his future sister in laws, he told them 'I have a bad history with that family and I don't want them at y special day."
The Elder of the Dimitrescu Daughters had nothing to say about that and agreed.
On the day of the wedding - The site was lovely and everyone came in attendance; even Alcina. She didn't want to come up she wanted her daughter to be happy.
The Dimitrescu Daughters were there without their husbands and they were crossed with it.
Maximus waited for the arrival of his fiancee and when she did arrive - it was by carriage...a very familiar carriage.
The door of the carriage opened and Daniela stepped out...but she wasn't the only ones.
The Lords of House Vilkas - Magnus & Matias - stepped out in suits and had uncertain expressions on their faces.
"You?!" Maximus glared at the men, "What are you two doing here? Why were you in a carriage with my fiancee?!" He roared at them.
"I was on my way here with Aunt Donna when they pulled up and asked me where the wedding was taking place, I didn't tell them and they rushed us in the carriage." Dani said as she walked over to Maximus and Donna was getting out of the carriage.
"You forced my fiancee into a carriage?! For what reason?!" The blacksmith growled.
"Please, I know you are upset but we just want to speak with you - I want to speak with you." Magnus said as he took a step forward.
"I told you that I wanted nothing to do with your family, Lord Vilkas!" Maximus said with a glare.
"Stop calling me that! I'm not Lord Vilkas right now, I'm your little brother!" Magnus shouted with sadness in his voice.
Everyone looked wide-eyed at that confess and all eyes looked at Maximus.
"You're the Eldest of the Vilkas Family?" Daniela asked as she looked at the man she loves.
"I share their DNA and nothing else." He glared at his brothers, "I am not a Vilkas., that was taken away from me the moment they were born."
"What is he talking about?" Bela asked her husband.
"We grew up thinking that we were the only children but when we found a birth record for a son that was older than us, we asked our parents about him." Magnus began.
"They told us that he was an accident, an unwanted child, a placeholder for the Vilkas Heirship until a true heir was born..." Matias said.
"Then the moment the twins were born, my father disowned me, beat me to a pulp, and tossed me into the snow during a blizzard with dagger - the insignia of the family I once had was scratched out. I begged them to let me back in, I cried that I didn't want to die, but they ignored me and I began to walk into the forest, looking for some kind of shelter." Maximus' eyes looked to the ground at the pain of the memory.
"Brother..." Magnus said but he didn't know what he could say to his older sibling. All the pain he's been through, all because he was planned.
"It wasn't our fault. It was father and mother's, they were the ones who did that horrible thing to you! They robbed you of your place as The Vilkas Family Head & they robbed us of an older brother. Please, Maximus...We need our brother." Matias said to him.
Maximus looked at the two of them before he told them to sit beside their wives so that they could begin the ceremony. They took their seats, Daniela and Maximus took their places and the rites were read, the 'I do's were said, and the kiss was sealed.
Alcina just sat there with a stunned look on her face - the one she wanted was related to the family she respected, what's more, he was the rightful head?
Maximus looked at his brother and wondered - could he really have a relationship with them after their births took away his life?
[End]
66 notes · View notes
hanibalistic · 3 years
Text
#FBB2F3 | LEE FELIX.
genre | bittersweet, nostalgic fluff
word count | 2589
warning | none
tag | @fluffyskzclub​​
note | very easily could have been chan, but i wanted to write about lixie!!!
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the paint on the brush splattered on the classroom floor after felix playfully nudged you with his feet. you groaned before regaining your balance, carefully hoisting yourself back on your kneeling position. your glare was paired by his light-hearted snickers.
"lix, either help me or go home," you said as you pointed the colorful end of the paintbrush at him threateningly. you pouted when he stood unfazed, smiling down at you with amusement. "i really need to finish this by tomorrow. everyone is counting on me!"
he took a step back when you returned your attention to the banner-sized canvas, adding more detail to the seemingly finished product. tilting his head, he admired the decorative artwork with both intrigue and cluelessness.
it was something his non-artistic self could have never done on his own, which was why the painting looked so grand to him, but he also couldn't understand why it wasn't finished yet when there was no more blank canvas left on the surface.
you obviously wanted to add more to the painting, but he couldn't see what there was to add that would make it less or more appealing. in the end, it would just look the same to him, so why couldn't you pack everything up so you two could finally go home?
looking up at the opened windows, felix sighed as he watched the orange sun slowly fade back into the mountains. he wanted to go home, but he had no plans to leave you alone at school at this hour, nor did he want you to walk home alone, so supposed he would have to stick with you and your endeavor for now.
"what do you need help with?" he asked as he took his hands out of his pockets and knelt next to you, accessing the painting with unease. "i might mess up."
"you're not touching the painting," you said as you reached over for the plastic color wheel and handed it to felix.
his eyes followed your hands—boxes of paint, a jar of dirty water, a paper of abandoned colors, and a spiky brush. after setting them around him, you reached for your bag on the chair nearby and pulled out your notebook from the thin gap of your heavy textbooks.
felix raised his brows when you leaned over to him, flipping the pages of your notebook before stopping at a messy page. he saw circles and circles of colors, lined up together in a way that looked like detailed instructions but also a disorganized brainstorm map. his gaze moved from the notebook to the color wheel, utterly clueless.
"do you see number three, eight, and twenty-five? mix those colors for me," you instructed, pointing briefly at the paper before dropping it before his knees and turning back to the painting. "make sure they look like the ones in the notebook but a little more vibrant!"
felix nodded as a soft, confused hum of an agreement left his lips. he gripped the paintbrush in his hand, his shaky eyes glancing at the colors on your notebook and the lines of acrylic paint.
a gentle fear shook upon his ground when he was shifting through the colors. he could not tell the difference between the first red paint and the seventh one, but they had different names so they must be two kinds of red. putting his shrunken hand next to his face, felix licked his lower lip with concentration, thinking that if he stared at the colors long enough they would appear different to his eyes.
they did not.
giving up, he glanced up at you in preparation to ask for your advice, but he stopped when he saw that you were putting your utmost attention to the painting. with softened eyes, he decided to bother you at a later time—
"uh, haha, no," you interrupted the trip down memory lane with a sharp chuckle, and you looked up at felix with a sneer. "that was not how it went."
felix tossed his much longer hair away from his face with shy laughter. his short ponytail bounced slightly and his side fringes framed his sharp face. shoving his hands further down the pockets of his coat, he jutted his lower lip out and shrugged, "that was how i remembered it though."
"then you have bad memories," you scoffed, "you kept bothering me about the colors that i ended up telling you to just step aside and wait for me."
"i was not bothering you!"
"yes, yes you were."
"i was–ack! i was being thorough!" he retorted, throwing his arm out and waving his finger at you. there was a flustered smile on his face; he was looking like he could remember everything but was purposefully making things up. your chest felt light seeing it.
"remember how you told me your entire class depended on you to win the class board contest? how, like, they will literally kill you if you mess up?" he exclaimed.
you furrowed your brows in exaggerated horror, placing a hand on your chest and leaning back slightly to further state your surprise. "i never said that!"
"you never?"
"no!"
"was it just me?" felix questioned himself with a scratch of his head, taking shallow breathes of thoughts as he turned away to look around the classroom he once studied in. taking notice of a familiar corner, he raised his hand and pointed at the broken end of the door. "oh, they painted over the wall jisung scrubbed on."
you looked over instinctively and pouted.
of course they would. jisung had written profanities on that corner, after all. you weren't sure why he had done it then, but you remembered watching him get dragged by the ear to the principal's office and grimacing when you met eyes with him. who would have thought he became such an introverted and well-behaved boy now?
"i'm sure they changed a lot of things around these years," you said quietly as you walked through the narrow rows of the wooden desks.
the words jisung left on the wall, the rack of art supplies hyunjin always kept on the top cabinet shelf where the homework was stored, seungmin's neat handwriting being the first thing everyone sees on the blackboard whenever they walk into the classroom, and felix's school jacket he always dumped near the locker for easier access.
they were all gone. the presence of your youth has been erased.
"it has been a while since we came back," you finished off when you came across your old seat and you sat down.
it has been a while since you both came back to your high school, and it has been a while since you two went separate ways to pursue your careers. nothing physical has changed in these classrooms, but they no longer hold the scent of your old friends or the sights of your old classmates.
other people study here now, these classrooms are a foreign home now. as much as that irked you, you had to accept growing up.
felix pulled up the chair in front of you—the desk that belonged to him—and sat down facing the back of the chair. he propped his arms on the top rail and leaned his chin on his intertwined hands, staring at you.
the golden sun glossed over your faces, reflecting a younger light that made you gasp as it deceived your eyes with a newfound nostalgia, manually turning the gears in your head to make you see what you haven't seen in a long time.
felix's hair was black—black, short, and messy. you used to run your hands through them, especially when he was pouting from having trouble with finishing his literature homework. the teacher was the worst, he got unlucky to be stuck with them for a full year. it was thanks to your help, and the longevity of the lunch breaks, that he managed to survive.
instead of the turtleneck and coat, he wore the loose tie he never learned to properly tighten and his wrinkled uniform. his shirt was untucked because he couldn't be bothered. he would eventually fix it up, though, because he was scared of the discipline teacher. but, this was between him and himself only, compared to the discipline teacher he was more scared of you scolding him about his untidy uniform.
(funnily, there was nothing more he would purposefully chase after than your gentle nags back in the days.)
the freckles across his cheeks would be less visible. hyunjin used to have to cover it up for him because he wasn't confident about the way they looked on his face, but you remembered—you remembered how he had told you he loved it when you counted them, touched them, and kissed them as you sat on his lap.
he had told you he loved it.
he had told you he loved you back in high school, and you had said it back.
you remembered. under this blazing sun, the sun that never changed, the sun that only showed you the truth and what you secretly longed for, you remembered that you and felix were once in love.
"ah, this really brings back old memories," felix sighed dramatically with a smile. "we used to talk like this a lot. i remember being so uncomfortable sitting like this, but i wanted to talk to you so i kept sitting like this until the bell rings."
"what?" you scoffed, leaning back on your seat and raising a brow. "you should have just told me."
"i didn't want the ruin the flow of our conversations!" he said, then he propped his face on his fists like a flower. "besides, i used to think i look cool sitting like this, so i always sat like this when we chatted."
you gave him a faint eye-roll. you thought it was lame now, but back then having him turn as soon as the lunch bell rings and hearing your classmates coo teasingly at you two was the one thing you looked forward to in school, that was besides seeing felix, of course.
"well, it worked, didn't it?" you said. "you snatched me."
"i totally did." he laughed.
both of you didn't want to verbally acknowledge the fact that you two had been so madly in love back then that you would rather let silence fall over. it would have been awkward to talk about it after so long, even though you two had been very mature about the break-up and remained as loose friends afterward.
in an attempt to break the silence, you kicked your feet, reached out, and playfully ruffled his hair. felix was taken back by your sudden movement, his eyes widening in panic that you were messing up his hair as his hand immediately flew from his pocket to stop you.
"hey! i spent a long time on this ponytail!" he complained, frowning at your loud giggles at his misery.
"i'm sorry! it's just–" your eyes caught sight of a single run sitting on his fourth finger and you paused. there was a gentle pang in your chest as you tore your eyes away.
regaining your senses quickly, you removed your hand from his hair and sat back down, then you nudged your head over at his hand. "i see you got a promise ring there?"
felix hummed questioningly. he looked up at his hand, still trying to recover from the initial shock of your action, and he sighed with recognition when he realized what you meant. a smile blossomed over his face, a smile so bright and familiar that it made all your forbidden hope dissipate into the hole of your heart.
"yeah, i have a girlfriend," he said, wiggling his fingers. "we have been dating for a year now. i got it for our anniversary!"
you kept the smile on your face. you had gotten over the break-up a long time ago, but when the reality of moving on slapped you across the face like this, your heart churned in distaste anyway. felix was no longer yours, and you were not his—you accept that, you were just a tad bit upset.
"that's good! i'm still waiting for this boy to confess," you muttered with a glare of your eyes as you shifted on your seat. seeing the curious glint in felix's eyes, your thoughts swirled and suddenly your fondness for him faded to the back of your head. you sighed with a defeated smile at the new name in your head. "there is this boy at work–new guy, just a little younger than me–yang jeongin. he is so, so shy."
"i thought you don't like boys younger than you."
"he's an exception."
felix rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "alright. just don't scare him off, you can be intimidating. remember that time when a junior tried to ask you out and he chickened out the last minute–"
"uh, that was because i was dating you back then."
"no, he said it was because you looked like–"
"i know what he said, shut up!" you kicked him under the desk, bubbling a burst of laughter out of him as he stumbled.
after adjusting his position, felix patted his head to fix his hair before he crossed his arms and propped it on the top rail again. he looked at you seriously this time, but his eyes were caring and lovely. after all this time, he looked at you the same way—always, and you loved it all the same.
"does he treat you well?" he asked.
you pursed your lips into a thin smile and nodded. "mhm."
"good."
you glanced at him, wanting to ask your fair share of questions. is he happy? is he loved? is he being held? are his freckles being kissed, or is his hair being combed? is he nagged to take a rest, told that he is pretty? you kept your mouth shut.
the sun was setting into the mountains and the day was changing. the youthful light faded that your current-self once again resurfaced to sight, but just before the last trace of the sun died out in your classroom, you two gazed at each other, and it all went back to the wrinkled uniforms, the tousled hair, the old textbooks, and the shy intertwined hands.
back when felix was the only boy you kept in your heart.
the sun set, the light of his promise ring reflected in your eyes, and you felt a drop in your stomach that you ignored.
"i'm gonna go back and make sure jisung isn't causing a ruckus in the hall," you said as you stood up. "you coming back? dinner is about to start."
felix looked up at you and shook his head. "not yet, you can go first."
you shrugged and left the room with no questions asked. felix returned to the front when you left and he sighed at the worn-out desk before him.
he refused to think about the fluttering feeling in his tummy when you ruffled his hair and when he saw the younger version of you seated in front of him, but he knew for a moment there when he felt it, it was kind and warm, and he knew he missed it somehow.
he missed you, he used to, the only person he had kept in his heart.
tapping his finger, felix rolled his eyes.
"yang jeongin," he clicked his tongue, "pff." and he scoffed.
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kuroo-shitsurou · 3 years
Text
Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)
TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety
note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.
Late February was never a good time for Xiao.
It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.
He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.
Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.
Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.
Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it
This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.
Until you came.
Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.
He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.
"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.
"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.
"Mind if I sit beside you?"
Again, a light nod.
You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.
The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.
"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.
"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).
"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"
Ouch.
"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.
"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"
At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.
His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.
With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.
It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.
That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.
"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.
"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"
Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.
"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"
"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.
"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."
"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.
"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.
-
Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.
Late February was never a good time for Xiao.
It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick.
It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?
Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.
What else did that mean?
His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).
"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.
1:37 AM.
You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.
[ 14 missed calls. ]
Yikes.
"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.
He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.
Fuck. Where are they?
He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.
Where the fuck are they?
He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.
"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.
Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.
"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.
Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.
His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.
Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?
He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.
Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.
"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."
"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.
"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.
You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.
"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.
You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.
His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.
"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.
"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"
You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.
"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."
Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.
"I came along, I wrote a song for you."
He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.
"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."
You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.
"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."
"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.
"And it was all yellow."
Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.
"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"
You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.
"Turn into something beautiful."
You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.
"Do you know? You know I love you so."
You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?
"You know I love you so."
You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.
"I love you, Xiao."
At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.
"I love you too."
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jolynej · 3 years
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may i ask some hc's for a bisexual artist reader dating bruno, giorno and doppio? 🥺 👉👈 (bonus: reader gets to flip off/ smack diabolo for interrupting dates lol) - 🎨
yes! sorry it took so long, honey! this was really fun to write!! hope you enjoy, bby!!
all characters are 20+ in this piece!
CW: implied nsfw, a curse word in Doppio’s part
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• Immensely impressed with your artistic and creative capabilities, no matter your preferred medium. Each time that you present him with a finished copy of your work, his cerulean eyes light up, and his amber lips tug up to reveal a proud, dazzling smile. He gets worried that some of his compliments may sound repetitive, so he has developed a habit of commenting on and praising the most random aspects of your work. From anyone else it’d be odd to hear about that ‘handsome shade of green’ or the ‘fascinatingly sexy technique’ you used, but it’s Bruno, and you wouldn’t expect anything less
•If you’ll indulge him, he’s a big fan of sitting back and watching you work. Full warning though — those odd comments of his are in full abundance! The man truly hangs on to everything that you do and is very anticipatory of how your piece will turn out. But he is far from overbearing. He knows how bothersome it can be to have someone hovering over your shoulder, and he makes sure to allow you to have more than enough breathing room and space to work
•On special occasions such as anniversaries or your birthday — or even just on a random Tuesday, the man just loves surprising you, let’s be real — he’ll gift you art supplies. From brushes to paints, to art programs and aprons, Bruno has given you an array of art-related items. The moment you say that you’re eyeing something in particular or are running low on a particular supply, he mentally catalogues that information away for later
•100% into paint and sips! He signed you up for one as a date idea, and he found out that he really enjoyed himself. It’s a fun way for him to loosen up, relax, try something new, and to, of course, spend time with the person he loves most. He’s a bit of a giggly drunk, and he has definitely made you, and some other angry patrons, mess up due to his loud gasps and snorts and wheezes that he makes because he made such a silly little dolphin, wheeee!!
•Bruno offers to model for you — nude, if you don’t mind certain things popping up. He acts all suave and nonchalant when he proposes the idea, but when it comes down to the actual event of him posing on an ivory-colored sheet draped over a chaise lounge with one hand propping up his head and the other sat upon his thigh, he’s trying everything he can to keep himself from getting turned on. But there is something about the distinct way in which your eyes are narrowed in pure concentration, because of him, that gets him going
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•He’s a good critic — he’s fair and offers constructive criticism but is never harsh nor rude, plus, he’s quick to remind you that he knows next to nothing about art and what exactly goes into the creation of your pieces, so he tells you to take his suggestions with a grain of salt, it’s just his way of trying to get you to challenge yourself and achieve even great heights! Still, Giorno always finds something in your latest piece that he admires, and his compliments are always very genuine
•Definitely hangs your work up in his office and whenever someone comments on the work or asks who the artist is, he just smirks and says in a knowing, smug tone that he’s intimately familiar with their other work and that he’s grateful for the exclusive access that his position as don has given him. Whether or not the innuendo is lost or not on the other party is solely dependent on their own inference
•Giorno will absolutely surprise you with your own art studio and/or gallery to display your pieces. While the actual work and planning that went into this took months of proper organizing and hours of him touring different venues to search for the perfect place, the don makes it seem so nonchalant and casual when he calls you out of the blue to tell you to meet him at ‘x address’ at 6:00 PM sharp for your birthday present
•If you have any plants in your works, then he may surprise you with a fresh cut flower or fern or even a potted sapling, depending on the specific species of flora that was featured in your piece. Don’t be shocked to find a vase of roses or hydrangeas or forget-me-nots, or any flower for that matter, on your kitchen counter when you come home from work. He leaves a handwritten note in gorgeous cursive that says something sappy along the lines of ‘I hope this bouquet blooms new inspiration, amore’
•Much like Bruno, he’ll be happy to model for you, and he’ll have no qualms about doing so nude, if you ask, but he probably won’t bring it up otherwise. He’s very patient and does a great job staying still for you, and he will also create a few spontaneous vines and blossoms to better accentuate his chiseled features, stringing the delicate petals through his golden hair and dotting a few at his feet
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•Since the boss has him traveling all over, he’ll commission a small self-portrait of you to keep with him when he’s away. He’ll ask for a new picture every few months, which he explains is because he wants to keep up with your change in appearance, be it a new hairstyle/color, new glasses, a new piece of jewelry that he adores on you, etc... but honestly, he just wants to have as many pictures of you as he can — you’re just too lovely!
•Doppio brings up making one of those giant canvas pieces where you both cover yourselves in paint and make love on the canvas together. He had overheard Squalo and Tiziano discussing it one day, and he immediately found himself torn between whether you’d look cuter in pink or blue paint — or both. Doppio would love to sit and have his portrait painted; but alas, that wouldn’t go over well at all with the boss, so this, to him, is the next best thing! Plus! It’s a testament to the love that you both share, and no one has to know how it was made!
•During his travels, he’ll visit little gift shops and will mail back postcards that feature the work of local artists or photos of the scenery or native wildlife. He writes you a cute ‘I miss you’ letter and signs it with a tiny doodle, a heart, and in cursive he ends the note with a simple but intimate ‘your Doppio’ You should plan on making a scrapbook one of these days due to the amount of postcards that you’ve received over the years!
•You have a date night where you both paint along with an episode of Bob Ross, and to put it kindly, Doppio’s painting ends up on the fridge and not on your living room wall, but he’s still proud of himself, considering it’s his first time painting. A few days later, Diavolo walks by the refrigerator one day and asks you why ‘that tasteless shit’ is on display, causing you to scowl and smack him clean across his disgusted face
“Ah, tesoro...” Doppio winces, rubbing his cheek, red and hot from the impact of your harsh slap. “Why does my face hurt?”
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obae-me · 4 years
Text
Sweet and Sour Demons
Note: Thank you for 400 followers! It means so much to me that so many people appreciate what I do and write, and I’m excited to keep improving! So as a thank you, I wrote this little piece with some added visuals!
Disclaimer: I made these creations on Picrew, and I wanted to make sure I give proper credit, so, here’s all the places you can find this wonderful artist! Go support their work and make some cute chibis!
Picrew
Their Twitter
Their Website
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You had no idea why you made these things. At first, it seemed like a great idea, you had sat there in a hallway at RAD, waiting just outside the door of the Student Council room. They were all having a meeting, which, of course, you weren’t allowed to attend. However, you were also barred from going anywhere by yourself, so here you were, waiting like a dog on a leash. It was, to say the least, absolutely mind-numbingly boring. You had scrolled and double-scrolled through everything on your phone, you had given up trying to read-you just weren’t in the right headspace- and even the occasional entertaining shouts and exclamations from the brothers had died down. So, you resorted to random websites, and in one, you did something you never should’ve done.
You created cute and heart-squeezingly adorable stickers of the brothers you knew so well. You knew the consequences, you had been there for the texting ban which came after those stickers were created of Lucifer and Diavolo. The house had been in chaos, and yet you made these anyway. You couldn’t help it! You were bored and your creativity and curiosity was begging you to see what they would all look like as kawaii dessert chibis. Plus, after you had made them, it had brought enough warmth in your heart to let you survive a harsh winter using nothing but your body heat.
You knew the trouble it would bring, you knew the moral consequences, so you had planned on not showing them to anybody. They’d just be your secret and yours alone, never to be shown to the world. The D.D.D. you possessed just skyrocketed in value.
Plans and secrets were hard to keep in the Devildom, especially for you, and despite what you had prepared for, you weren’t prepared for the meeting to end early. Today of all days. Right while you were giggling and hugging your phone to your chest, the doors swung wide open, each of the brothers catching you in the act.
Mammon sped past you like a whirlwind, a simple blur of white and gold. The phone was gone. Your phone was taken! Still left on the screen where all the little pictures were saved. Your heart almost stopped, that warmth snuffed out in seconds. Mammon just waved the phone around in his hand.
“What’s got you so giddy, eh? Who’re you talking to?” He frowned, the gold color of his eyes getting darker. “Since I’m so nice, I’ll let you tell me before I look.”
Before you could even open your mouth to respond, Beel came over and plucked the phone from him. “Mammon, it’s not nice to invade MC’s privacy.” You were saved!
At least until Asmo came and snatched those hopes and dreams away. “Aw, but I want to know! The drama, the intrigue, who can resist?” These brothers were playing hot potato with your phone. None of them had seen what was on it yet, for some reason all of them assumed you were talking to someone. It was only a matter of time before…
Levi rushed over to Asmo. “They’re talking to someone other than us?” His envy almost started dripping from his body. “I need to see who it is!”
Satan aggressively grabbed Asmo’s wrist and tore the phone away from his brothers. “Honestly, all of you are such children.”
A tail knocked the phone out from Satan’s grasp and into the air, landing perfectly in Belphie’s palms. He was in demon form, already enraged somehow. “Who…” was all he could mutter.
“Please, it’s no one!” You pleaded, surprised you could still breathe and say words at this point. What played out before you was like some cartoon. Was it possible to still salvage this?
The eldest brother, annoyed by his siblings’s antics, used his powers to magically move your phone into his gloved hands. He had a deep scowl on his face. “The next person to touch MC’s D.D.D. without their permission is going to have a special punishment.” He shook his head and looked into your eyes. “Here you go, MC.” There was such a thing as miracles after all! You couldn’t believe it. “I’m sorry abou-” Lucifer cut himself off short, his eyes had just briefly flickered over your phone screen. Had he really just tried to take a sneaky look after everything he just said?
Everything was in shambles. The phone that had almost been in your possession once again, just inches from your fingertips, was snapped away, plastered near Lucifer’s face as he looked upon your screen with an expression for the ages. Confusion. Slight amusement. Then bafflement. Now he was in his demon form.
“MC…” his voice was a rumbling sound, almost deep enough to make the floor shake. “What are these?” His brothers all looked intensely curious, but none of them even dared move.
“I wasn’t going to do anything with them, I swear! No sharing, no money, no nothing. I was just bored and...I thought they were cute?” You even questioned it yourself, your confidence wavering. Lucifer was silent...much too silent. You were prepared for anything, a lecture, your D.D.D. confiscated, even death.
His scowl turned into a smile, an evil smile. “I think it’s only fitting to share these with everyone else, right, MC? Once we get home, I want to see you in my study.” With a menacing glint in his eyes, he held his hand out to let his brothers, rabid with curiosity, claw their way at your phone to look at the contents.
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Lucifer
Dessert: Chocolate-Covered Strawberries
Description: Despite their simplicity, this dessert is widely popular and renowned for its flavor. It doesn’t need to be overly flashy to be a prideful fan favorite. It’s not sickeningly sweet or rich like lots of other desserts. Its strong fruity tartness mixed with a sweet outer layer makes this the perfect dessert for the demon of Pride.
He’ll admit, he was shocked to his core when he saw the creation on your phone. He had felt deeply insulted that you would make him look like that. On the other hand, the fact that you had gone out of your way to make something in his likeness--no matter how disgustingly cute and humiliating it was--mixed with the look you had on your face when he opened the door left a feeling in him no human had stirred up in him before.
When you came into his study after the event, he saw you with your head hanging low, eyes sullen. He had to control himself to keep him from smiling. He only showed you a cold expression, crossing his legs in his chair behind his desk as he waved you over with one hand.
“Come here.”
His demand sent a shiver down your spine, and your face burnt up as you obeyed his order. You stood right next to his side, looking deep into his eyes as his glower burrowed into your skull. You noticed a box in his lap, red, covered in a single ribbon. Lucifer finally let his tart countenance fall, a smile on his face. He held your chin in his hand as he made you look at him. He stroked the lid of the package with one hand before gracefully opening it. Inside laid an assortment of chocolate covered strawberries, each pristine and neat. You blinked. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying as you thought the contents would be.
“What is…” you stammered, trying to look for words to express your confusion, but Lucifer’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making you lose your voice immediately, your face starting to almost share the shade of some of those strawberries.
“Your...punishment,” Lucifer explained. “Believe me, I had something else planned, but then I thought, if you helped make me look so cute in strawberries, how about I do the same thing to you?” Before even giving you a chance to catch your breath, he placed the box on his desk, reserving the space for you. With a hand around your wrist and the other on your waist, he pulled you into his lap, relishing your little gasps as you tried to get some air in your lungs.
Everything about him was making you squirm, his rich voice, the slight bobbing of his knee as you remained on his legs, his eyes flickering a deep crimson. To make things worse, he helped guide your hands behind your back, his hand big enough to reach around both your wrists. Your heart was racing a thousand miles a minute, your head going dizzy and light. One hand keeping you bound, the other one grasping one of the treats from the box, holding it tauntingly at your mouth. He brushed it across your lips, the look on his face telling you that what he was putting you through was sweeter to him than any dessert.
“Be a sweetheart and say Ahh.”
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Mammon
Dessert: Lemon Tart
Description: A classy little pastry that’s a great mix of zesty citrus and sweet custard that sticks with you despite being surrounded by a flaky crust exterior. The bold flavor along with the gold and white motif makes this a good match for the greedy second-born.
As much as his brothers wanted to see him embarrassed, even he was surprised to feel...proud of the thing resembling him on your device. You made something of him. It may have been demeaning and overly cutesy, but you really took time out of your day to make something about him. Something that made you happy and that you appreciated. You didn’t make fun of him and tease him about it, you had planned on keeping it a secret for you to enjoy.
He dragged you away, both of you headed out of RAD, past stores and shops that he usually took you to, and instead headed into a popular Devildom bakery. Everyone in the shop swiveled around, and you couldn’t help but try to hide your face as Mammon shouted enough to be heard two stores over. He demanded the best lemon tart money could buy. Despite the other demons waiting, everyone hustled to get what Mammon needed. They knew who he was, and if he didn’t get what he wanted when he asked for it, there would be worse things to worry about.
“Mammon, slow down.” You were starting to get out of breath from all the running around he was doing, refusing to let your hand go. He had you and you couldn’t say otherwise. You realized the path you both were on now was heading back towards the House of Lamentation. As you slowed down due to exhaustion, his impatience kicked in, his wings spreading from his back as he swooped you off your feet, pressing his body deep into yours as he flew the rest of the way.
He didn’t stop moving till both of you were inside his room, slamming the door behind him. He crawled onto his bed with you still clinging to his neck, his knees by your side. You heard him undo the package the tart had come in. He made sure you watched as he bit into it, the crust crumbling, some of the custard lingering on his lips.
It was hard to stay focused, but you dropped one of your arms that was around his body, ready to grab a piece for yourself, but he stopped you, his irises glowing a dark gold behind his lids. He used his hand to direct your arm back to its place around him. His eyelashes fluttered as you instinctively latched onto his hair. His gaze had you so enamored, you didn’t notice his horns now sticking out of his head. He got in close, very close, close enough that your noses were almost touching and all you could smell was sweet citrus.
“Do you want to come try some?”
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Levi
Dessert: Mochi Ice Cream
Description: A small round treat consisting of soft sticky pounded Mochi with cold and flavorful ice cream on the inside. It’s able to change color and flavors to adapt to people’s moods and preferences to make sure people like them. Perfect for the envious otaku.
He was used to seeing characters like those, but he never thought you would make him into one. He was equal parts embarrassed and envious. The way you looked at your phone like that over a fake digital character, the same way he often did. He could do that, but when you did it, it tied his insides in knots.
He still couldn’t get it out of his head, so later that night, he headed to your room, a bowl of treats in his hand. He would show you that, for once, the real thing was better than any 2D picture. When you opened the door, he stormed in, causing you to back up to keep him from bowling you over. He was in his demon form, his tail flipping back and forth. His face was flushed, but he was determined.
He backed you up to the bed, forcing you to sit down, still confused by the rush of actions happening in rapid succession. He looked down at you, his cheeks tinted pink, his tail brushing against the skin on your arm as it curled around your body, the scales as cold as ice.
He picked up a Mochi ball, placing it in his mouth, his orange eyes swimming with something other than envy. This was one of the only times he wasn’t shying away. He leaned close to you, preventing you from leaning back away from him with his tail pinning hard against your back. He pressed the soft ice cream against your lips, waiting for you to take it from him like one of his favorite Pocky games. You could feel the tip of his tail wagging against your shoulder blades, expectant.
You took the treat from him, puncturing through the mochi with your teeth only to feel the nerves of your mouth freeze as the ice cream came through. With one of his fingers, Levi helped pop the rest of the mochi in your mouth, a look of sweet satisfaction spread over his face. You shuddered, the ice cream and his cool scales sending a cold chill down your spine.
He wrapped you in his arms, the boldness melting away like the ice cream in your mouth as he leaned into your body to keep you warm.
“Don’t look at anything like that other than me.”
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Satan
Dessert: Mint Brownie
Description: A hot and powerful tasting treat that not only has the bitter sensation of dark chocolate, but the strong and flavorful mint. An array of tastes under the simple and calm looking brown dessert matches the demon of wrath perfectly.
He was angry, which was the expected response. The way Lucifer and his other brothers teased his sticker form. It took a lot of control to not fight them off right then and there, destroying your D.D.D in the process, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. He was angry at you for making it, but also...he felt something else. He stormed away from the group, making his way home. You felt guilty, but decided to try to give him some time to cool off, but he had other plans.
He called you to meet him when he got home. As you approached his door, you couldn’t help but smell something sweet coming from his room. As you came inside, you smelt the strong scent of chocolate and mint. It filled your nose and overwhelmed your senses so much, you didn’t notice Satan standing right behind you. He wrapped you in his arms from behind, and you could feel his tail curling around your ankle.
“Here, have these.” He presented to you a plate with a single brownie on top of it, a thin layer of green frosting over the surface. They must’ve been fairly fresh since they still were giving off waves of heat. “I made them for you, since you think I’m so sweet.” You could feel his hot breath right near your ear as he curled his lips into a smile.
They were still so scorching, they almost burnt your fingers, but you picked a corner and shoved some in your mouth anyway. It was deliciously dark and minty, the temperature and flavor making your eyes water. The tail around your leg wound tighter as one of Satan’s hands came to brush away your tears. His boa around his neck tickled your skin, giving you goosebumps.
“Satan?” You swayed, overwhelmed by the heat coming from the pastry and Satan’s body, you were unable to tell which one was burning you more right now. He held you tight, keeping you planted in place. He used the fingers that had touched your face to pick up the rest of the brownie on the dish. He brought it up to you, and while you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his eyes staring you down.
“Go on, they taste best when they’re this hot, trust me.”
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Asmo
Dessert: Cupcakes
Description: Undeniably sweet in every sense of the word. Soft cake, fluffy icing, not to mention you can use whatever filling or toppings you want. You can dress it up and make this dessert as fashionable as you please, the flawless comparison to flashy fifth-born demon.
He thought it was adorable. He was flattered you’d made sure to make him look as amazing as possible. He was sickeningly sweet, but something about the way you looked at your phone made his heart flutter. He had a plan. He was going to do a comparison, and you would be none the wiser.
Already he had everything prepared by the time you got home. He hunted you down and dragged you to his room, not giving you a chance to say no. As you entered, everything hit you at once. He had a plate of cupcakes on his nightstand, white cake with pink frosting. Asmo was almost glowing as he came over to get you one. You looked him up and down, noticing he had changed his clothes to make himself resemble the treat he gave you. A pink top, white bottoms, he even wore a pearl necklace and matching bracelets to resemble the pearly beads on top of the frosting.
“Asmo…” You hesitated, knowing he was up to something, just not quite sure what yet. Or even if you did have an inkling of what he wanted, it still left you breathless. He just looked at you with begging eyes, and you sighed figuring there was nothing wrong with eating a cupcake.
You peeled the paper off the base slowly and watched as Asmo blushed, getting closer to your body. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him as you opened your mouth to get a good bite of the dessert, making a happy little noise when you tasted how delicious it was.
“Yay, yay, my turn!” He came over quickly, making you back up against his bedroom door as he stared you straight in the eyes as he took a bite of the cake in your hands. He took a finger and curled it around your hair. Your face turned bright red. “Lets keep going, I don’t like to waste things.” You kept taking turns biting your own end of the cupcake, watching it get smaller and smaller as your mouths were getting tauntingly close. When there seemed to be only one bite left, he made a little whine. “Aw it’s your turn, you win.” He let you take the last bite, some of the frosting depositing itself on your lips.
Asmo let you press your back deeper into his door as he got even closer, his lids heavy. His wings and horns now exposed as his lips got closer to yours.
“Time for me to check which one is sweeter.”
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Beel
Dessert: Pancakes
Description: Not your typical form of dessert, but with its fluffy texture and satisfying nature, it’s capable of being a good meal for any part of the day. With stacks upon stacks, it’s a great match for the demon of gluttony.
Just seeing how you dressed up his little likeness made him hungry. He wanted to eat everything he saw, in fact, it was a miracle he hadn’t eaten your D.D.D. when he had it in his possession. All he could think about was making something like that with you. You made everything taste so much better, if he could let you finish making it anyway.
He dragged you to the kitchen once the two of you got home. There was a little spring in his step, being the happiest he had been in a long time as he watched you mix the batter. You had to order him to stay put to make sure he didn’t eat it before it could even get in the pan. He watched you move around the kitchen, and you could’ve sworn you watched him almost drool as he looked you dead in the eyes, not even at the stove.
It was almost like art the way you placed the pancakes on his plate, and as you turned around to get yours, he had already downed his in a single breath. You figured he’d do something like this, but you weren’t ready for him to watch you eat, him licking his lips every time you opened your mouth.
“Beel, do you want these?” You slid your plate towards him, only having taken a few bites of the syrupy cake.
“No, I want you to eat.” He slid his own chair around the table to be seated right next to you, legs touching. His response left you stunned, your mouth just slightly ajar in your shock. His gaze turned bright, snatching your fork away from you. “Ah so you want me to feed you, I can do that.”
Your little cry of a protest was muffled as he placed the fluffy pancake in your mouth. Some of the syrup escaped down your chin and he wiped it up with his forefinger before licking it clean. He hummed to himself in glee.
“So delicious.”
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Belphie
Dessert: Hot Chocolate
Description: A hot beverage consisting of sweet chocolate and creamy milk. It leaves you feeling warm and cozy after drinking it, coaxing you to take a nap. It’s simple to whip up and quick to make, an easy comparison for the demon of sloth.
He wasn’t sure which one had left him more irritated, the fact that he thought you were messaging someone that left you giggling, or the fact that a digital image of him was. Either way left him exhausted, but restless. However, he wasn’t someone to let something go. He always felt like he had to get even. He wouldn't be able to get any sort of sleep till he ensured you looked as cute to him in real life as you made him on your phone.
So, when you came back home from RAD that evening, he was already waiting for you. How he had gotten there faster than you was a mystery. He was laying on the steps, still in demon form, clutching his pillow in his hands. As soon as he saw you, he was up faster than you had ever seen him move. With a twitchy tail, he grasped your arm and dragged you to the attic, the place he always seemed to take you when he wanted to be alone with you.
“Belphie, what’re you?”
He pointed to the bed, glaring pins and needles at you. He wordlessly watched you sit on the bed in confusion. You glanced to a small table and noticed that there was one mug on it, steam emanating from the top, the smell of sweet chocolate drifting through the air. He strided over to the mug, picking it up in his hands before doing something you weren’t ready for.
He came over, placing himself in your lap, knees pinned to your sides, towering over you as he pressed the warm mug to your face. You immediately flushed, and you watched his top lip twitch as he prevented himself from smiling.
“Too hot?” He droned. He brought the cup to his lips to gently blow at the drink to make it ‘cooler’ for you. It didn’t stop you from burning up. His tail came up to brush against your cheek as he let the ceramic touch your lips. “Well?”
You parted your lips to let the sweet liquid fill your body, the milky chocolate making you warm. The sight of Belphie staring you down, his tail patting your head as the smirk he had tried hard to contain finally revealed itself. He didn’t stop until every drop was gone, and then he put the drink to the side, using his sleeve to wipe away remnants around your mouth.
“We’re not close to being even yet.”
579 notes · View notes
cosplayinamerica · 3 years
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Deku from My Hero Academia // Cosplayer: atarashiraven // Photo: @tsunderee_
So I went back and did some digging and found my first full Deku cosplay. And OHMYGOD I'M SCREAMING. I didn't think I improved so much cosplaying Deku. But I can really see a difference. A glow up. It goes to show that no matter what kinda cosplayer you are, famous, professional, beginner, moderate, advanced, little fan base. Doesn't matter.
Cosplaying is fun and there's always room for improvement. Cosplay is for everyone no matter your skin color, your figure, your ability or disability. Whether you can put on makeup like a pro or don't know what you're doing, its a process. And honestly back at the time this picture was taken I just wanted to be around like minded people and have fun, and I was experimenting w/my makeup. Cosplay is not a competition, its a passion, and one that you can feel happy in improving and doing new things.
I wanted to cosplay Deku mainly because he sparked something in me. I had been on a break with cosplay. Focusing more so on school and wondering when the next character that I make a huge connection with would come along. After all, I was feeling like maybe I was losing that cosplay spark. But something about Deku really made me wanna cosplay even more. Seeing him work hard to achieve his dreams and goals made me wanna do the same. I just resonated with him. He's always looked down upon only to prove people wrong that he can be the best in his own way! And that’s how I wanna be! 
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Photo: @brittanyfournier
Since I had no idea how to crossplay I spent hours researching, I actually bought my first cosplay and didn't really make any modifications. Not until I bought his suit. I made my own leg and arm pieces because I like the way it fit and looked on me better. I went out of my way to buy a yellow backpack, his notebook, his provisional license, and school ID to really bring him together. And then paired it with red shoes that light up!
I had a lot of positive responses with cosplaying Deku! Everyone really loved the jacket, how my shoes lit up and all the little details! And when I went to the my hero group meet up I felt really apart of something! It felt special! And a lot of teens ans kids wanted pictures with me. I was called cute quite a bit! So that was a plus! I do remember that I bought a bunch of merch that day and I bought a Bakugou body pillow, and a Bakugou cosplayer literally walked by me with a smile and said "nice pillow Midoriya." And it took me a minute to register why he said my pillow was nice.
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Photos: @tsunderee_
Bunny Deku came in October 2019 when the Bunny Deku trend was finally trending within the fandom. A lot of artists were drawing him but I didn't see a lot of cosplay at the time. So I decided to cosplay Bunny Deku and he just kinda stuck around after my friends and my boyfriend saw me cosplaying him. They kinda see me as their little Bunny Deku.
Bunny Deku 1.0 as I like to call the first rendition of him was made using white bunny ears, a white bunny tail, green rit-dye, a low heated blowdryer and a styling comb. I used my old First Deku cosplay and the clothes in my closet to really piece him together.
 I went to Wasabi-Con and Anime Festival Orlando as Bunny Deku! And the response was great! Two of my favorite cosplayers at WasabiCon (Akrcos and inspectorlemon) really lifted my spirits by saying I was quite the adorable bunny Deku. They even asked how I made the ears! At AFO I was dragged into a MHA group too, and they were nice! Overall it was a very nice experience!
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Photos: @tsunderee_
I have been steadily improving my cosplay! I'm working on improving the leg armor pieces, I've made bunny feet to go with Bunny Deku, I'm working on a one piece suit, bought some pretty sweet Fila shoes because I think Deku definitely deserves designer sports shoes, I plan on ordering another full one piece suit but in a zentai suit, and I bought I guess you could say a designer Deku bunny set from LittleLuxies who is really popular in cosplay community, and I do plan on improving the gloves sooner or later. I noticed that my cosplay makeup and connections have improved a lot! At first I was just some young girl who really didn't understand how much went into it. But now it's my passion so I'm always improving and taking notes!
My future cosplay plans really involve improving my current characters I cosplay and also bringing back characters that were popular in my childhood back to the spotlight!
Currently I have a lot of cosplays lined up for cons in the future. And I'm even learning to work with different sfx makeup so I can do more characters that people typically don't bring to life at cons. I wanna be a cosplayer who's known to cosplay anything and everything! From well known to obscure characters! I also plan on doing couple cosplay with my significant other sometime in the future. Which will be a ton of fun! And I wanna keep inspiring people! Especially as a black cosplayer I think its important to inspire other black people and even POC. There needs to be more of us out there because we do exist and cosplay is for everyone!
https://linktr.ee/atarashiraven
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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years
Text
Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session
The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.
(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)
1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come
2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants
3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)
4. Rin's tail is about a meter long
5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them
6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings
7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.
8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc
9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.
10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid
11. She likes industrial style interior designs
12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol
13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)
4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol
15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail
16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house
17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.
18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan
19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs
20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 
21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation
22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute
23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first
24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time
25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen
26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something
27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)
28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.
29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)
30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join
31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it
32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise
33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special
34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends
35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it
36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That
37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou
38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often
39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language
40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end
41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)
42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??
43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids
44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink
45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay
46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN
47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc
48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down
49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]
50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans
51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc
52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)
53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism
54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto
55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like
56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!
57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram
58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!
59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it
60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him
61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject
62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???
63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)
64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!
66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past
67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu
68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background
69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)
70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over
71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way
72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there
73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS
74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet
75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such
76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending
77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively
78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol
79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently
80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved
81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?
82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together
83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication
84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)
85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR
86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there
87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style
88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy
89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved
90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!
91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved
92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means
93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY
94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene
95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable
96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol
97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character
98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever
99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters
100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.
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speechlessxx · 4 years
Text
Bring Him Light - iii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)
Chapter Summary: The reader confronts King Steven. 
Warnings: nothing really... just really wordy. pretty uneventful. 
Word Count: 2.1k
Note: This originally had 4K+ (+ because i’m still writing) but I opted to cut this chapter in half because it felt overloaded. Forgive me.
I hope you enjoy!
Bring Me Light Masterlist
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<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->
Tensions quickly rose after that night. Even those without eyes could see that you steadily avoided the king. Any time King Steven entered a room you previously occupied, you found a reason to leave.
Rumors had begun to swirl.
Some told the tale of how you were displeased with the king – displeased with the arranged marriage. You were seen as the fiery princess of York, defiant and headstrong like your king father who was at war with their nation years ago. You were unwilling to settle down even if it meant you would be queen to a respected nation and the wife to a revered king. Your actions proved to be a rejection – a rejection of Brooken, of their king – and the people began to resent you even before you took your place at Steven’s side.
Some spun a story that further supported the rumors you heard in York and even in Brooken itself. Some said you saw the king’s cruelty firsthand and have plans to flee. Perhaps you ignoring the king was a ploy to get him to dismiss you, send you back to York, so that you did not marry him. Some said that the king would kill you for your defiance and instead of giving their king a son, you would give him another widow.
You heard the rumors. Every whisper, every mutter, every side eye and glance – you saw and heard it all. But you paid it no mind. As you did the king, you simply ignored the rumors. It did you no good to entertain them.
The king’s words still hung in the air every time you managed to look at him. The threat still as vibrant. It frightened you. Who was the man that smiled with you, entertained you, commissioned you a bow, and called you my love? Was he the same man in the dungeon – ordering the torture of a prisoner?
You hoped they were different people. That the king was not cruel as the rumors painted him out to be. Were you just naïve?
Visitors have started pouring into the castle. Nobles, royalty alike ready to bear witness to your marriage. It was a promising union. The north finally putting aside their years of discord and hostility to unite for peace – to unite against the Mad King who continued to claim more land. It was a treaty between York and Brooken that was symbolized by rings wrapped around yours and King Steven’s fingers.
You stared on as the servants brought in your throne. “Pivot!”, “Up!  Up!”, “To the right! The other right, you imbecile!” the man in charge ordered around. You chuckled to yourself at the man’s frustrations.
In York, your father’s throne stood tall and proud with intricate designs of red and gold – your house colors displayed proudly. Your mother’s had the same overall aesthetic and elegance but was much smaller – “dainty,” she called it, “as a queen, as a lady should be.” It was a decorative piece made to compliment the king’s seat like how a queen was to compliment a king.
It didn’t seem as if Brooken shared the same ideal. You didn’t know this, but King Steven believed that a queen isn’t just an accessory or a figurehead or a birther of heirs. He liked to believe that a queen was an equal to a king – that they were partners working together to make their kingdom great.
And it was made visual by the elegant bronze thrones whose heights were equal. They were tall and daunting. Terrifyingly beautiful.
“Do you like it?” You nearly jumped out of your own skin. Steven had snuck up behind you while you were lost in your admiration. You made an attempt to walk away, but he grabbed your upper arm gently and prevented you from fleeing. He leaned in and whispered, “we need to welcome our guests.”
“I believe that is your duty as king.” You simply responded. You tugged your arm out of his grip and with servants, lords, and other witnesses around you both, he let you go without struggle.
“I believe as Brooken’s future queen, it is your duty as well.” His voice was low. You couldn’t quite make out where his tone was. Was he angry? Was he teasing? You weren’t sure. It seemed as if Steven had a hidden talent for acting. One second he was charming, kind, and laughing with you the next he would probably snap at you, send you away to the dungeon to get your teeth ripped out. “And I’ll introduce you to the nobles you do not know. Acquaint yourself with your people.”
You wanted to retort that Brooken’s people were his people not yours – that York was your home and its people were your people. But you decided to remain silent and nod because he was right. As Brooken’s future queen, it didn’t matter where you were born or where you grew up or what blood ran through your veins. Upon your marriage, Brooken’s people will become your people too.
»————- ⚜ ————-««
As the last of the guests left, Steven ordered everyone in the throne room to leave. Everyone slowly started to file out and you were making your way through the doors as well when he grabbed your hand and asked you to stay. You glanced over at Natasha, whom you confided in of what you heard in the dungeon, who gave you a reassuring nod.
“I know what you heard.” He muttered as soon as the doors shut. You glanced around the room. You were completely alone with the king. You felt a chill go through you. You didn’t like his tone, but you weren’t a pushover. You were a Stark.
So, you stared at his eyes, your voice strong like you, and said, “Does the man still have his teeth?” You cocked your head to the side. That caught him off guard.
He assumed you would deny it. He prepared for the confrontation. He imagined you’d argue that rose was a popular scent among women because of literature that described their heroines with that very scent. He’d counter and tell you that servants admitted to seeing you flee. He wasn’t prepared for you to come clean.
Steven raised his brows at you, amused. “This isn’t a joke, Steven. What does that man know that you need to? And would it kill you to show compassion to someone whom you’ve already imprisoned? He begged water and you denied him that. Perhaps if you listened to his needs, he’d provide you with the intel you’re desperate to know. Perhaps if you showed a little restraint instead of playing a power card like a king and listened like a good man would, then others wouldn’t paint you with such cruelty.”
“He’s a traitor. I needed him to tell me who else in my court, in my country that plot for my downfall.” You weren’t expecting that… Of course, you knew that others plotted against their monarchs. It’s how King Thanos gathered support and was able to infiltrate countries in the rate he does.
The king seized your hands, catching you off guard. His thumb gently grazed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed in two days. “I want to wash the toxicity away from my country, my court. I want to quash the unrest. I really do. I want my kingdom to be happy, stable, to flourish. I want to do it with you by my side. I trust you. And I understand this marriage isn’t what you may have wanted, but I want us to grow to tolerate one another, to find happiness in one another. I apologize if I frightened you. I understand my reputation on the battlefield is rather… unwelcoming.”
“It’s frightening, yes,” you agreed with a nod and swallowed. “I think I do need to stop listening to servant gossip. I apologize for my part in our current unhappiness. I do want that though. I may be of York and a Stark, but I do want Brooken to be successful, to be great. I want happiness and I want love. Two things I thought that I will not get in this marriage.”
“We might not be at the current position to love each other. We have only met nearly weeks ago.” He agreed.
“But perhaps, we can grow to it. We will be bound together for eternity soon after all.” You offered him a smile, one that he returned.
He was relieved to hear you say that you two were on the same page. It was refreshing. Steven glanced down at your lips. Your smile as enchanting and beautiful as you. He wasn’t sure if it was an overstep, but the glint in your eyes told him it might not be. So, he took the chance and pulled you closer to him.
You gasped as you lost your footing and crashed against the king, but he held you up and flush against his body. You stared up at him in surprise. His smile was still there. You wondered if the reason why he never smiled in his portraits was because the artist would be distracted. His smile was hypnotizing. You could stare at him forever.
And slowly, he leaned in. You remembered how he was with a bow and arrow. Quick, precise, confident. The man leaning down towards you was unsure – his movements slow but deliberate. He was so close that you felt his breath on your face. You held yours in.
“What are you waiting for?” You whispered.
He smirked. Outspoken and amusing. He would never get tired of you. Steven leaned in, closing the gap between your lips. Your eyes fluttered close, as did his, as you both moved in unison.
You found your footing again, balancing yourself and melting into him. A bit shy and inexperienced – this was your first kiss after all – you tried to pull away, but Steven’s hands gently cupped your cheeks and held you in place. He grew intoxicated by your scent of roses, quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your lips. He felt a fire igniting within himself, the embers spelling out your name. You both got lost in the passion that neither of you expected to be there.
Suddenly, a cough caused you two to quickly separate. Wide eyed, you turned and saw your father’s entertained smirk. You blushed and looked down, curtsying to your king father.
“Tony.” Steven greeted. He wiped his lips as subtly as he could, but the older king saw it as did the queen at his side with a similar expression with her eyebrows raised. “You weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”
“I grew impatient. Made our driver go faster.” Your father smirked as he turned to you. You bit on your lower lip as your eyes wandered around the room. “Did we interrupt something?”
“No.” You and Steven said in unison.
Your father had a knowing smirk on his face. “Daughter, you look lovely. I take it you’re enjoying your time in Brooken?”
“Yes, father,” you nodded. You nearly rolled your eyes at his teasing.
“My love, stop teasing.” Your mother chastised, slapping his shoulder. She opened her arms for you and you gave her a smile as you accepted her hug. “I told you.” She muttered in your ear low enough so only you heard it. You blushed even more as you pulled away from her and stood at Steven’s side.
“I’m sure the journey was tiresome. Shall I call for a servant to escort you to your rooms?” You asked, forcing a courteous smile. Your mother smiled and nodded. “Mother, is Morgan and Harvey with you?” You were eager to see your younger siblings – and honestly quite relieved that they hadn’t witnessed yours and Steven’s moment.
Her smile quickly faded as she glanced to your father, wordlessly asking him to help. The York King simply waved his hand and shook his head. “Morgan’s far too young to be traveling right now.” You found that odd. Your mother wouldn’t have simply left her months old infant in the care of the nannies. She would’ve wanted to supervise and micromanage them as she did with Harvey and undoubtedly with you. “And Harvey’s …” He paused for a moment. “Your brother’s exhausted from his constant training. We decided it was best if we left the children in our castle.”
“Of course.” Steven nodded. “Please,” he smiled and motioned for the doors. He offered you his arm which you smiled and took as you both led your parents out of the throne room and into the corridors. You asked one of the servants who passed by to escort the other pair to their chambers. After your parents left you two once again, Steven took your hand and brought it to his lips. “Two days.”
“Two days.” You agreed with a nod.
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ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3
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It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.
“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.
Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.
He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.
Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.
Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”
Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.
“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”
Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”
Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”
“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”
Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”
Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”
Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”
Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”
Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”
Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…
“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”
Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.
“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.
“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”
Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”
Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”
“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”
Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”
Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”
Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”
Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”
Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”
Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”
Ian smirked. “Green?”
“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.
Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”
Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”
Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”
Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.
When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.
Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.
“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”
Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.
Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”
“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”
Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…
As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.
Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”
The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”
Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.
Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”
Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”
Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”
Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.
A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.
Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.
“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”
Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”
Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”
“Yup.”
Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”
“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.
Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”
Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.
But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.
By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
part two here!
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we-love-imagines · 3 years
Text
Sweet Words, Sweet Lies
Valentine’s Event: Day 5
Prompt: Caesar + Roses
Ao3 Link
Author’s Note: Hello again everyone! Today we have everyone’s favorite flirt, Caesar! The only warnings in this one are some suggestive themes (no actual nsfw) and while the reader is gender neutral, Caesar refers to the reader using female Italian pet-names (Like Cara instead of Caro). Enjoy!
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You had known Caesar for quite a while. Even before you were formally introduced, the man had a reputation surrounding him: a no-good Casanova who would treat you like royalty before kicking you to the curb. When you started training together under Lisa Lisa, you saw that there was more to him- but after seeing so many ‘partners’ come and go from his life, you knew his trail of broken hearts was lengthy and loveless.
That’s why, when his advances started to be directed at you, you were having none of it. You two were friendly enough, so you played along for a little bit, always quipping back at his pick-up lines or pointing out his wandering eyes. As of late, however, you’ve been getting more and more frustrated with his insistent begging to go on a date with you. While he certainly was attractive, a capable man many desired to have for a partner, you refused to fall for the pickup-artist’s charms.
“Cara, you don’t know what you’re missing,” he spoke, trailing behind you as you went back to your bedroom after the day’s training, “Just spend one dinner with me, you won’t regret it.”
“Are you sure? It looks like a lot of people regret spending their evenings with you. Like Rosemary, Patrizia, Mattia-”
“-All satisfied customers!”
“How do you know they’re satisfied when you never see them again, hm?”
As you reached the door to your bedroom, Caesar fell silent behind you. You were afraid, for a moment, that you hurt the young mans feelings; however, as you turned around, you saw the roguish grin on his lips.
“Look, Tesoro,” he purred, taking one of your hands into his own, “I know I have an... experienced reputation, but I would move Heaven and Earth for the chance to woo you. All I ask is that you give me the chance.”
Before he could bring the back of your hand to his lips, you pulled away from him. He looked bewildered for a moment, confident those words would work on you, before straightening back up.
Opening your door in a huff, you spat, “How many people did you use the ‘Heaven and Earth’ line on? I’d rather keep my dignity than be another notch in your belt, Caesar.” With that, you went into your room and slammed the door in his face. He flinched as the distinct sound of a lock turning hit his ears, silence filling the hall soon after.
While you were right about a few things- Caesar had used that line on someone else before, and he really only wanted to get in your pants- you were still missing one key piece of information on Caesar. Like most flirts, he loved ‘the chase’, the two-and-fro as he slowly made you fall for him and give into his advances. You were certainly not the first person who rejected him at first, but they all eventually came around. If you were going to play hard to get, Caesar would just have to up the ante.
The next morning, you opened your bedroom door to find a single pink rose waiting for you on the floor. The day after that, another. The day after that, there was a whole bouquet at your feet.
You weren’t dumb, this had Caesar written all over it. You had even seen him give flowers to potential lovers before; it was an easy, cliché trick he used to get people to fall for him quickly. While you would take the roses and keep them in your room, since no pretty flower deserved to wither away on the floor, you paid them very little mind. It’s not like his aggressive flirting or fleeting touches were letting up- this little plot was weak, at best.
That was, until, the letters began arriving. Attached to the fanciful bouquets, which were growing larger and certainly more expensive by the day, were little notes and messages written in Caesar’s handwriting. 
You told yourself you wouldn’t surrender yourself to him, but Oddio, this man could write! The blood rushed to your cheeks as you read paragraph after paragraph of praise from him, about how strong, beautiful, and capable you were. With the grace and skill of a poet, he compared your eyes to the moon and stars, you voice to the sweet chirpings of birds, and your intelligence to that of a scholar. 
For a few days, it was flattering to read his wonderful letters, a smile spreading across your face when you’d find one attached to some roses at your door. Eventually, however, you had to sadly tuck the letters away. You knew he wasn’t writing from the heart, that he was just abusing those sweet words to spend a single night with you then throw you away like the others. Not having the heart to throw them away, you placed them in the back of a drawer somewhere in your room, hoping you could ignore them for the time being.
Little did you know, those letters had sparked something new in Caesar. Writing letters was a new tactic for him, something he was driven to because you didn’t react as he planned to the expensive flowers, but he was taking a liking to it. The first letter was simple enough, a barrage of compliments that would make anyone’s heart swell. Hiding behind a corner, he secretly watched as you read it to yourself- while your cheeks turned a light pink, it didn’t get a very big reaction out of you.
So, he began writing about things more unique to you- your soft-looking lips, your exceptional skill with Hamon, your kind nature; suddenly, he found himself writing longer, more passionate pieces than before. Sometimes, he’d catch his mind wandering to you, wondering if you’d ever like to call your partner pet-names. He began to feel worried for you if you got hurt during Hamon training, feeling like he failed to protect you, even though it was just a training exercise. Caesar also noticed that he started going out of his way to be around you, not just to try and romance you, but to just feel your soothing presence.
Was he falling for you? 
No, no that couldn’t be. You were a fling, nothing more, he had never felt that strongly for anyone.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked down at the letter he was composing for you. He had already filled up two pieces of paper just musing about your character, front and back, and he was nowhere near done. Sighing, he thought there was no reason to deny his feeling further. He had it bad for you.
The next morning, you expected to find another bundle of roses and a love letter at your door. At this point, you hadn’t even read the last few letters, just tossing them into your drawer so you could ignore your growing feelings for Caesar. 
But, much to your surprise, you opened the door to see the very man you were trying to push aside standing right in your doorway. He held a very large bouquet in hand, full of roses in various colors, wrapped in a bright white bow. You were tempted to roll your eyes and send him away, but the nervous expression on his face intrigued you.
“Caesar?” you quirked an eyebrow, foregoing a greeting and cutting right to the chase.
“Ciao, Cara,” he smiled, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, “These are for you.”
As he handed you the large bouquet, your eyebrow somehow went even higher. His face was the slightest bit red, so little one could barely notice it, and he was nervously trying to find a place for his hands as you eyed him up and down.
“Mind if I speak freely?” he asked, letting you think for a moment before nodding. Taking a deep breath, he began to let everything out.
“Look, (Y/n)- I know you think I’m a bad guy. I’ve done some pretty sleazy things in the past, and you totally have a right to be weary of me. You figured me out pretty fast, y’know? I’ll admit, at first, I did just want to fool around with you, nothing more.”
Your expression quickly soured with disgust, so Caesar decided to get to the point before you slammed your door in his face.
“-But, (Y/n), you changed me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Writing those letters and buying you these roses became the highlight of my day. I mean every word I write, Amore. I really, really like you.”
For a moment, you stood there, heat rising in your cheeks. Your stomach was full of butterflies, your heart pounding full of love for the beautiful, well-written man who just confessed to you. Your mind, on the other hand, was trying to get you to see things logically: Was he being honest? Was this all an act?
“Caesar, I-” you mindlessly spoke, trying to get your head and heart to agree on how you were feeling, “-How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“I thought you might ask that,” he laughed nervously, taking your free hand into his, “I’m really asking a lot for you to trust me. I totally understand if you refuse me, I haven’t been the nicest guy with you.”
Rubbing a gentle circle into the back of your hand, he gave you a pleading smile.
“-But I can promise you that there will be a second date.”
Reluctantly, you accepted his offer, hesitantly accompanying him to his favorite restaurant in town.
You really enjoyed that first date. And the second. And the third. And the one-hundredth!
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Otherwise Engaged
This is my (late I’m sorry) Maribat Secret Santa gift for @kitsunebell! It’s a Timari story and contains fluff, some very slight angst, but a happy ending for all! My first time writing this couple and I had a hard, but good time. I really hope you enjoy and have a Happy New Year!
@maribat-secret-santa-2020 AO3
To say Tim was nervous would be the understatement of the century. Today was Christmas after all, and it was his girlfriend’s favorite holiday. And she loved literally almost everything about it. From the decorations, to the lights, to the cooking and smells that came with it, to gift giving and hanging out with family.The one thing she didn’t really care for was receiving gifts. She always accepted them with a smile and a thanks, but she hated the idea that people spent their money on her, even if some of them were billionaires. And this was what made him nervous. Because this year he had gotten her a gift, breaking their promise of no gifts for each other. And he had a plan to go along with it.
He had all day to get everything set up just the way he wanted. It wasn’t anything elaborate, but because his family was just the way they were, there was always something that can and probably will go wrong. He had already set up a private area in the Wayne Botanical Gardens, her favorite area with the tropical flowers in a variety of colors and smells. It was her go to area when in a design slump, and the location of their first date. He smiled as he recalled that day.
“Tim! Where are we going?” asked a young 18 year-old Marinette who was currently blindfolded and being led somewhere in her new home city of Gotham. Tim had been ecstatic to learn that his long time friend, crush, and now new girlfriend had decided to attend University in Gotham for their fashion courses. He knew a little of that world, but Mari had been a willing and patient teacher whenever he asked questions on why she was doing a certain stitch when and how she just knew what kind of fabrics to use. And in return, he was always willing to explain his business knowings her when she asked anything.  
“You’re so very impatient you know that?” replied an excited 19 year-old Tim Drake. He had never thought he would get the chance to take her out on a proper date, but now here he was, ecstatic and leading her to their first date location that he hoped she would love as much as he did. It was his favorite part of the botanical gardens and he knew she would love it as well. “It's our first official date and I want to take you somewhere special, so therefore it’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait and see,” he chuckled at her sigh and tightened his grip on her hand slightly to signal her to pick up the pace a little. He, too, was getting impatient but he wouldn’t let her know that.
They entered the gardens and his excitement turned to nervousness. What if she didn’t like the location? What if she was allergic to these types of flowers? What if… He shook his head and didn’t think to much on it anymore. This was Mari he was talking about. She loved all types of flowers and he knew she loved places with color for inspiration. This was a foolproof plan… He hoped.
As they entered the tropical area of the gardens, he let go of her hand and turned around to face her. “Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded her head, excited to see where he had taken her. He reached up to untie the blindfold from her face and watched her face as she looked around. Her eyes lit up and her smile grew wide. She looked around the room, falling in love with it more and more. The red and yellow flowers contrasted against the green fauna made her inner artist squeal and add in the purples and oranges and she was a goner.
Marinette took another look around the room before turning back to Tim and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “This place is amazing. Thank you for showing me this place.”
It was at that moment that Tim knew he was goner as well.
Returning to his project at hand, Tim had started to set up a little picnic area for them to enjoy together after the big Christmas family dinner. Alfred had made up both of their favorite snacks and desserts and had also packed a bottle of champagne. Tim never really was one to drink these days, but he did indulge every once in a while.
21 year-old Marinette had been up all night waiting for Tim to get home. He had said he was going out with some friends earlier to a bar for a few drinks. She knew it wasn’t his patrol night, so that’s not where he would be. She had tried calling him a few times, but stopped after the third time, not wanting to seem overbearing.  They had just moved in together into their own apartment not too long ago and everything had been going great so far. Marinette was almost done with her college courses and was on track to open her own little boutique here in Gotham, and Tim had started to take on some more work load for Wayne Enterprises. She knew how stressed he could get at times and a few drinks had always seemed to help him out. But he had never stayed out this late before. At least, not without letting her know he was okay.
And so, in order to occupy her mind, she pulled out her sketchbook and began to mindlessly draw some designs. Tikki would come by to check on her every now and then, but even the little goddess got tired and found herself snuggling up to Marinette to fall asleep. That was at 2 am. And it was now going on 5.
Just as she was about to give in and go to bed, she heard the jiggling of keys, the turning of a lock, and then the sound of the door opening and slamming shut. She carefully removed Tikki from herself and jumped out of the chair to run to the front door.
There stood Tim, alive at least, but looking worse for wear. His hair was crazy and wild looking and his usually neat shirt was wrinkled and had a few stains on it. She could smell the alcohol on him a mile away. She said nothing as he looked up at her and smiled before tripping over himself and landing against the wall with a thud. After helping him to the bed and removing his shoes, she set a glass of water and aspirin on the nightstand and left him to sleep on the couch.
The conversation that followed was fairly typical. She asked where he had been and why he didn’t at least let her know he would be back later than expected.  He told her he was sorry to worry her and that his phone had died. He explained that he ended up at his friends house where they continued the party after the bars closed and that was it. Then he promised to not do it again.
Except he did it again. It was two months later, but it happened.
And then again and again and again.
He continued to go out and stay out on his off nights and even sometimes skipped his own patrols.
And then one night/morning he came home expecting her to be there, but she wasn’t. Instead he found a note on her side of the bed, claiming she was at his father’s house for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t keep doing this, waiting around all night for him to come back and worrying about where he was at or if he was okay. She wrote that she loved him and wanted to help him get better, but she needed a break for right now. Because she didn’t know how to help him.
It didn’t really set in that she was gone until he looked around the room and saw that it looked empty. Her side of the closet contained only bare hangers and her sketchbooks and extra fabrics were gone. He looked around to try to find the tiny flying goddess or any of the other kwami that she guarded, but couldn’t find them at all.
When he laid down, it was to a cold bed and he knew he had royally fucked up.
Shaking those thoughts aside, he took a look at the picnic area and smiled. Now all he had to do was make sure his family didn’t interrupt him this evening after they left the manor.
~~~
Christmas dinner went as smoothly as expected. Marinette’s parents flew in to spend some time with everyone and, of course, brought along some of their macarons. Gifts were exchanged and pleasantries were passed along. Time kept creeping ever closer to his time with Marinette, and Tim was feeling nervous again. He knew she loved him, no doubt about it. She wouldn’t have put up with him for almost 7 years if she didn’t. And he loved her more than he could ever convey. So why did he feel this way?
Ahh, yes. It was his brothers, who were currently trying to set up a way to sneak into the gardens beforehand and not get noticed. The only ones he wanted there were him, his girlfriend, and the gaggle of kwamis that were always around her. But even they were in on it, so they were going to make themselves scarce. Dick and Jason had set up cameras earlier, but Tim had found them and knocked them out. Damian, who really opened up to Marinette over the past few years, had tried to sneak a peak at the ring so he could give his approval, but it was moved before he could find it. Even Bruce had had thoughts of trying to get in, but Alfred had pulled him aside for some last minute details on something that needed his attention right away.
He looked at the clock in the living room. 9:30. It was time to go. He began to get up and walked over to Marinette who was sitting with her parents just chatting away. He felt bad for taking her away from them, but this was important. And her parents knew.
“Mari, babe. Let’s head out. There’s some place I want to go before we head home for the night,” he said to her as he laid his hands on her shoulders. She turned to look at him and smiled before turning back to her parents.
“Maman, Papa, is that okay if we go?” Her parents eagerly agreed, saying they would talk later and to have fun tonight. And with that, Tim and Marinette had grabbed their coats, said their goodbyes, and went on their way.
“So, where exactly are we going Tim? You seem really excited for this,” she inquired from her seat, Tikki sat on her shoulder and grinning widely.
“Now, where’s the fun in surprises if you know about them?” he chuckled as they pulled up to botanical gardens. He quickly got out of the car and ran to her side to open the door and let her out. Taking her hand, he gently kissed the back of it before closing the door behind her. “Now, I do have something for you to wear before you can go in.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold.
“Really? I know almost every inch of this place?” she giggled. “But, if you insist, go right ahead.”
Tim then covered her eyes and started leading her into the gardens. They passed through every single area until they reached her favorite room. This was it. Now or never. He reached up to take the blindfold off, but instructed her to keep her eyes closed until he told her to open them. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and got down on one knee.
“Okay, you can open them.”
Marinette opened her eyes and smiled at the room. It was always lovely to be here. It made her happy and always quieted her mind. She looked for Tim in front of her before looking down and gasping. There he was, kneeling in front of her, with a simple yet gorgeous floral ring.
“Marinette,” he began, “you’re my best friend and my favorite person. I’ve gotten to spend 7 years with you and for that I am the luckiest man in the world. You were there for me in my darkest time and you never stopped believing in me. You were there even when you had every right to leave me behind and never look back. You have no idea the hold you have on me.”
“I want to continue to wake up next to you, and to share your struggles, frustrations, and celebrate your achievements. You’re the only one for me and I want to let everyone know that. So will you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, do me the honor of marrying me?”
Marinette’s heart was beating so hard at that moment. Her eyes began to water and she began to smile. “As long as you can handle the constant screeching you’ll get from my friends for not telling them about this, then yes. Tim Drake-Wayne, I would love nothing more than to marry you.”
His smile turned so bright at her words and he took the ring out of the box. She handed him her left hand and slid the ring into place before pulling her in for a passionate kiss…
That only lasted a few seconds because not long afterwards did a bat boy seemingly fall out of nowhere.
“Really Nightwing?! I had the perfect spot to record it all!” Red Hood shouted up to the ceiling where a chorus of laughter rang out. He pulled himself up before turning to the happy couple and whipped out his recording device. “Don’t mind me. Just recording this for prosperity’s sake, you know?”
Marinette laughed and Tim sighed before turning back to his fiance (Fiance!) and pulled her back in for another kiss, ignoring all the catcalls and whistles from up above.
Years down the road, Tim was grateful for the video, even though he would never tell anyone that.
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