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mandowifey · 11 months

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Bury

Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader

Miguel Masterlist

Warnings: Reader is 18+,NSFW, oviposition, creampie, breeding mentions, non-con mentions, dark!Miguel, my version of Miguel, dub con, violence, aggressive heroing, Miguel being a massive ass, pet play, reader is held against her will. Oviposition - the process of having eggs laid inside of you.

Another one I needed to do before my brain exploded. Not proof read, enjoy!

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One face in a sea of millions, and he picked you. Miguel liked to say,'I saved you,' but you knew better. You were taken. Whisked away from your home and locked somewhere unfamiliar and daunting. Most people swooned at the notion of being rescued by Spider-Man, but they didn't know the truth like you.

Spider-Man wasn't a hero.

He was a monster, and you were his prey.

Miguel liked to watch you. When he was in thought or pondering his next move, he would often linger in your presence and quietly observe. You hated it, feeling like a zoo animal under scrutiny. Sometimes, he'd cross the room and sit down on the bed near you with his face towards the wall. Other times, he would lay his head on your lap and rest his eyes to the sound of your pattering heart. If you felt brave, you'd tassel your fingers through his brown curls. Being soft with him helped to temper his mood.

That afternoon, he came to you as usual and climbed onto the bed. You folded the book you were reading and sat up, adjusting the silk blue nightgown he'd given you. The look on Miguel's face is different. There is uncertainty in his eyes, and his body language feels off. You watch him for a moment before tentatively touching your hand to his back. "Miguel?"

"I'm going to need you to do something for me today."

The weight of his tone makes you jump. A man who had done nothing but take from you was asking you to help him. You felt uneasy, watching him as his expression twisted into disgust, and he looked away. Ultimately confused, your eyes track him in silence as you wait out whatever internal struggle he was dealing with.

"You aren't going to like it."

Now you laughed.

His head swiveled, and his eyes went from that warm, chocolate brown to hellish red. Bristling, his clawed hand grabbed your cheeks and squeezed until your lips stuck out. "You think it's funny?" He spits, his lip curling in a snarl. "You have no idea, not a one, of what I'm going to do to you today." With a shove, he sends you sprawling onto your back and knocks the wind out of you. You are left flailing, arms and hands catching yourself before you could topple off the bed.

"I'm sorry," you squeak, heart hammering. "I'm sorry, I just -" The way he looked at you made you panic. "You have never asked me before." It was honesty. He had taken you from your home, stolen your virginity, and hadn't stopped using you since. Spider-man's dirty little secret, locked away in his tower forever. You press your knees together and turn your eyes downward, your shoulders slanted. "I'm sorry." You reiterated, as it was the only thing you could think to say now.

Miguel watches you tense like a snake in the grass. "You're right," His voice growled. "So what's the use in asking now. Come here." A fist closes around your ankle, and you're torn closer to him in an effortless display of his strength. The gown you wore rode high, exposing your underwear and soft stomach. His eyes flick over you, taking in what he'd claimed as his long ago. Tonguing one of his growing fangs, Miguel leans down to cage your body with his own. Balanced on his knees between your legs, he brings his mouth to your ear.

"You are special, Y/N. You think I picked you randomly, that I just happened to like you for your looks?" He smiled into his words now. "It's much more than that. You see," One of his hands touches your knee and causes you to jump, a whimper tightening in your throat. "What happened to me didn't just give me fangs, or venom, or red eyes and this charming disposition I know you love so much," A breath wafts against your neck, and you shiver. "My body, every couple of months, goes into a sort of rut." Miguel adjusted himself between your legs, leaning his weight into you to let you feel the growing bulge he sported.

Sucking in a soft breath, you close your eyes as he kisses the nape of your neck. Of everything he did to you, you hated the fact he was able to make you melt. Miguel knew everything you liked and enjoyed using it against you. Grazing your flesh with his fangs, Miguel continued. "It doesn't just make me violent, hungry, and territorial, but in fact, it also makes me produce eggs." Hearing that made your eyes open and head turn to look up at him. With your faces so close, Miguel ghosted his lips over your own. "That's right," He continued. "Every time it's happened and I've tried to pass them manually, it doesn't work. The pain is fucking excruciating, Y/N." Sighing, he nips your mouth. "I came to the conclusion that for this to work, I had to find the right incubator."

That wasn't a compliment. It struck fear in your chest, and another wave of nausea rolled through you, making you hot. "Oh god," you gasp, your voice twisting in distress. Miguel was unflinching, his eyes - now back to brown, staring down at your distraught expression. "It's going to hurt, I'm guessing, but since you're such a good girl, I know you'll take them just fine for me." A sickening smile crossed his features as he kissed you, bruising your lips before drawing upwards.

"W-wait, wait, wait- Wait, Miguel, f-fuck, Miguel wait -" You babbled, helpless as the super human moved your body around to his liking. "P-please, please let's talk about this!" Tears stung your eyes and clouded your vision as he drew you close and pushed your legs apart. The only thing hiding you from him now were your panties. "Nothing to talk about, kid." He sighed finally. "Maybe you'll even like it, who knows." Miguel was unbothered by your tears as he let his suit crawl back until he was bare.

This couldn't be real, and most certainly couldn't be happening to you.

Heaving a sob, you put your face in your hands as he rips your underwear off and exposes your soft folds. "Besides, you used to beg me to stop before and now look at you, I practically make you cum every time we fuck." Chuckling, Miguel wrapped a fist around his cock and dragged the weeping tip through your slit, collecting moisture. He tuts at you. "You're kidding me! You're wet, too? Sheesh, I'm starting to think you really do like me, princess." You were humiliated and frustrated at your body for defying you. In no way did you want to be used by some maniac to harbor his clutch, and certainly didn't want to cum for him.

Miguel rumbled above you, brooding and large as he notched at your entrance. "Try not to tense up this time." He smiles when you peek at him from between your fingers, then shoves forward. His cock stretches you brutally and bottoms out as he hilts. Your hands fly from your face to grab the blankets while a scream bellows deep from your diaphragm. "Shh, shh shh, you're doing great." Cooed the hero, his body leaning forward so he could balance on his forearms above you.

He begins to thrust, drawing back until only the head is left submerged before slowly shoving back to your end. The drag of his cock is maddening, stroking the deepest reaches of your cunt and making you mewl like a cat in heat. Miguel drops his head to yours, stealing a kiss to swallow your cries and lapping into your mouth. You felt smothered as he rocks his hips, driving deep into you with each brutal thrust he gave. "Ghh-god, f-feel so fucking good." He hisses against your lips, his breath fanning your face as he bucked. Your body bounced helplessly under him as you tried so hard to fight that rising heat in your abdomen.

"That's it." Miguel purrs against your gaping mouth, dipping his tongue over your teeth and breathing in your scent. Your cunt squishes around him, embarrassing you further as it made his girth pound easier within you. "M-mi-guel-" You choke, your words broken by each impact. Finally winding your hands into his hair and scratching down his back, you cave. As hard as you fought, he fucked you well, and you couldn't deny it.

Spurred by your affection, Miguel thrusts harder. His cock pounding into you rough enough to bruise, pulling cry after cry from you. Your nails scour his back, making him snarl as his head drops to your shoulder. The both of you are panting in tandem, your mouths brushing as you breathe eachothers air. He was losing it, his thrusts becoming uneven and frantic as he draws closer to his end.

"H-hah, t-too m-much-!" Your voice breaks, nearly sobbing as he rocks just right, the tip of his cock forcing against your gspot and bringing you closer to your own release. The sounds you make encourage him, and he suddenly sits up to grab your ankles and fold you at the hips. With this knee-to-chest position, you gasp. Miguel looks down at you, his eyes cloudy with emotion and need. Some of his hair came loose and dangled in strands in front of his face.

"C'mon princess, cum for me."

And that was all it took.

The mans cock brushes something explosive and sets you off. Your world becomes white hot, body tensing and arching as you clamp down around him in waves. Later, you will hate yourself, but now you ride out your release while you cry out and rock your hips to his. Miguel, now satisfied that you finished, braces himself on his hands by either side of your head. His face changes to a look of near pitiful desperation, the sounds escaping him paint a different picture of the man who held you against your will.

As you come down from your high, you watch as he unravels. Eyes closed lightly, and head lowered, Miguel bucks into you. He sought your warmth and the comforting squeeze your little cunt gave him. Harder, until he bumps your cervix again, and you keen softly, then he crumbles. You feel him throb, followed by a hot spray of thick, heavy fluid. It doesn't hurt, even when he begins to frantically rabbit his hips into you.

He's muttering in Spanish, like he's talking to himself. The thrusting slows, and you feel strangely full and warm. Miguel eases down until his larger frame is resting against yours, caging you under him while leaving his cock nestled inside your walls. His lips press to your neck and jaw, peppering you in what felt like gratitude. You were apprehensive and uncertain if this were really all there was. It gnaws at you, but you bring your arms to wrap around his neck.

"Does it hurt?"

Your eyes open and catch Miguel's worried stare. "No. Should it?" The man frowns and moves one of his hands to pet and paw over your abdomen. He looks unsure, and you realize this was equally new to him. After a moment, he reluctantly pulls out of you and moves to curl around your body. You were dwarfed by him as he wrapped you in his arms and drew you into his broad chest.

Affectionate was not a term you would ever associate with Miguel. He presses kisses into your hair and inhales your pleasant scent, his hand drifting down to cup your abdomen once more. As you settle into him, you look down and notice the slight bloat under his hand, like you'd pulled a muscle and were pushing it out. Fear prickles up your spine as he pets you there, your mind racing with dozens of thoughts.

Are there really eggs inside of me?

What happens when they hatch?

Miguel can feel you starting to tense, and he kisses your temple. "You'll be just fine." He churrs into your ear, making the color drain from your face. "Motherhood will suit you." He nipped your neck before laying his face into your shoulder. Miguel was giddy at the notion of any of those eggs taking. Imagine you swollen with his child, giving him a new life to love and raise, an opportunity to be a father again. It was all he wanted.

He falls asleep curled with you, his hand planted against your growing abdomen. You mourn the loss of your bodies autonomy, silently laying there in his arms while dozens of tapioca sized eggs clung to your hot womb and begin to grow. You were certain you could feel the process as it underwent. The sensation made your throat dry and eyes wet, knowing that Miguel, your captor, left a part of himself inside of you. He claimed you in every way, violating you so deeply that you knew there was no coming back.

As the day descends into night, you listen to him sleeping soundly and wonder if he was right.

If motherhood would suit you.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara headcanon #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader

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ice-creamforbreakfast · 1 year

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::Download:: (Patreon - Early Access -Available for everyone from 26th Nov 22)

I was on a work trip and spent a lot of it in my hotel room, on Pinterest and a 70s themed set seemed like a very good idea. Doing the previews like a dodgy 70s catalogue seemed like a bad idea, but I did it anyway.

Carly Dress - Knitted mini-dress with striped collar, sleeve and hem detail

Linda Blouse - Button-down blouse with voluminous split sleeves

Joni Sweater -Fitted rollneck swearer in a rib knit

Diana Skirt - Suede Skirt with cutout pattern at the hem

Felicity Flares - Flared, high waisted trousers

Carole Boots - Heeled platform boots with a cursed 70s gummy sole

Deirdre Glasses - Large glasses with a subtly tinted lense

Jaclyn Scarf - Silk neck scarf tied to the side

Kate Necklace - Bakelite beaded necklace with beads in graduating sizes

Iris Earrings - Bakelite rainbow earrings

Barbra Earrings - Gold drop earrings with a tassel trim

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4cc #ts4mm #maxis match #download: clothing #download: accessories

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somewhereincairparavel · 2 days

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What would the seven wear? - Fashion Style analysis ( HOO Girls Ver.)

as a kid I used to want to be a fashion designer so making this post healed my inner child <3 enjoy ~

HAZEL LEVESQUE - okay okay omgg this girl would have the best fashion sense out of all of them (imo) because she is influenced by SO many fashion aesthetics, like her style would be vintage and modern at the same time! I feel like she would love long flowy dresses because it was the most common clothing women would wear in the 40's, she would love floral patterns sm because they are so cheery and it lightens her mood, this would bring out her "adorable" style more. also. JACKETS. this girl is OBESSED with jackets and cardigans, particularly in the colors brown and black. Overall her style is a mix of cheery, cute but she has that pluto edge to her style aswell with the jackets.

PIPER MCLEAN- honestly as much as she would hate to admit it, i feel like Piper would LOVE pink, pale pink takes up the majority of her palette. Her style is very youthful and it's a mix of rebel indie kid and soft coquette core. LOVES LOVES LOVES denim shorts, they are like a must in her wardrobe. Also, She loves jewelry, whether it be tassel earrings, beady bracelets and necklaces, rings etc. like she defo cares more about accessorizing than the actual clothing. she wears baggy white shirts a lot for some reason, but it suits her so well. Crop tops are a must, specifically pink or purple ones with a cute image on it, remember she wore a hello kitty crop top? yeah like that. I feel like her style is the most fresh and childlike without it being over the top, it is so cute. i love her style sm.

ANNABETH CHASE- Annabeth's style is super elegant tbh, she LOVES wearing grey, orange and white imo, also, i feel like she LOVES light blue/dark blue jeans. Ofc Annabeth loves caps, its like super dear to her, she doesn't have a specific "style" she just loves changing it a lot. Annabeth LOVES long dresses especially if they are white/warm brown. Her style is just super chill and modern. Percy is down bad when she wears baggy shirts tho cuz she slays so hard in them Annabeth loves knitted lace jackets because it gives off very homely vibes. Overall her style is super authentic and fresh tbh.

REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO- i have a feeling that reyna would love dressing up. it brings her comfort, she was the hairdresser in circe's island after all, Reyna is just straight up royal core. she likes wearing corsets, and silk gowns, Her color palette is gold, black, white, violet, and dark maroon tbh. Reyna LOVES large gold earrings that just dangle y'know? it makes her feel and look regal. She also loves circlets that you wear on the head. uggh she has got that roman classiness y'know. Super fancy and enjoys wearing long robes and skirts, i love my fancy shmancy queen <3

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ms0milk · 1 year

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𝟐 | 𝐈𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Magic can manifest a million ways, but from forever til today the only way you ever pictured proper magic was flowing from sweaty palms and jagged fingers."

no cw the Terrible Roadtrip™ pt 1/2, bkg is a huge asshole, i can't promise you won't fall in love with kirishima, you have to put your faith in me for this fic, pls trust me. 3.1k

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Kirishima Eijiro has always been kind to you. A wave, a nod, a sharp smile, he never ignored you in the castle when you happened upon each other, but thinking about it, you’ve never actually spoken. There was never a need and the prince always maintains the perfect amount of hurry to keep his companions from acknowledging staff.

Kirishima likes to dance with the girls who work in the kitchen so they’re too giddy to lecture him about stealing snacks. He likes to sleep in, and for some reason he likes training with his violent prince. Kirishima gets bruises but not cuts and you think it’s probably because of his magic. He sometimes cries while feeding the birds. Now Kirishima crouches so close to you that your shoulders touch and his warmth feels so familiar.

“Like this,” you correct. You stop him from placing another log on the fire before he knocks over the entire structure. Across from you, Sero huddles closer in the chill of evening while Denki investigates the kettle hung on irons to check if hot water is ready. Mina rummages for mugs. Camp tonight is tucked in the clearing of a felled maple tree much to the prince’s dismay, as it’s too dark to read by the sunset under foliage. So he busies himself untacking horses and with anger taken out on leaves, twigs, and the general inanimate.

Early in the morning, just an hour into the journey, a pink finger poked out of the carriage window ahead of you and beckoned you closer. The pink finger was of course attached to the pink girl, who rested her head on her arm while you rode beside her. “I don’t think you know who I am,” she cooed and you were quick to apologize to the nobles; they must be noble if they were guests of the prince; and if you had been on solid ground you would have taken a knee.

“My Lady, please forgive my behavior this morning.”

His Highness scoffed and you didn’t dare look his way.

Mina, Denki, and Sero. Kirishima introduced the travelers to you from his spot beside the prince, who took up at least a quarter of the small space with his spreading and growling and kicking of friends.

From what you could see on horseback, the inside of the carriage was just as delicately beautiful as the outside. Silver stars held the royal blue quilting in place and a little chandelier twinkled in the very center of the ceiling. White silk draped above them. Bench cushions trimmed with silver tassels and decorative knots, and when you dared to lean closer you could see the wallpaper wasn’t all quilt– there were rows and rows of flat ribbon with embroidered shells, and figures depicting some sort of scene across the trim.

“Get your bigass head outta here!”

It was your turn to be snapped at by the prince and it startled you backwards a bit in your saddle. His showy red eyes trained on yours for a second before he shut them tight and leaned back in a cross-armed huff, “Already got four fucking twats suffocating me, I don’t need more hot breath'n my ears.”

“Apologies, Highness,” you spoke this line clearly in lieu of, once again, formal introductions. But you couldn’t be fazed. It counted as the second time he looked at you, twice in a day, and that was more than the last fifteen years combined.

A sneeze from Denki ignited the prince’s fury in full and soon the carriage was a ring match. Sparing a glance to Shinsou, who chuckled at Denki’s misfortune on horseback through the window opposite yours, you slowed to let the travelers sort out their frustration alone. As you fell back, the silver of the window framed Mina’s pretty pink smile.

Mina is very nice. Across from yours and Kirishima’s little fire now, she hoists a red tin cup above her head and mouths, “Tea?”

“Please. Thank you, M’lady.”

She beams every time you call her that. This time she shouts through the clearing to the prince and all of the horses, “Hear that Kats? I’m a Lady.”

“You’re a fuckin' menace is what you are.”

These were strange nobles– friends, even. To be speaking with the prince so casually. What was Sero doing in soldier’s gear earlier?

Before departing, you and your travelers were instructed to change into the riding clothes provided to you. “No gambeson,” droned Aizawa when you tried to avoid removing your red Aldera uniform. “Your measurements were sent to our royal tailor, I promise these travel clothes are much more comfortable for riding.”

So now your dragontooth brooch, pinned rebelliously to your collar, is all you’re allowed to remind you of home. It clicks softly against the silver details of your lifeless white blouse. You feel sick riding another queen’s horse, and wearing another queen’s colors is almost all you can handle. On solid ground beside warm Kirishima, you’re sore and thankful to be finished traveling for the day.

By the time the sun began to set, the prince had a sparkling fist swung out the window and his companions let out yelps of pain from the receiving end of his anger, “I’m sick’a breathing your stinkass air!”

Mina and Sero, both carried under one of Kirishima’s strong arms, melted from the carriage doors with much moaning and many grumbles. Denki tripped on the single step again, directly into Shinsou’s back and the two of them hit the ground. Only the prince seemed to have any amount of energy left and took to immediately examining the grounds Aizawa chose for camp.

“No bitchin,” Master Aizawa grumbled before bundling himself up in the driver’s seat of the carriage in a thick woolen blanket. The blunt interaction was all you would get from him tonight.

These woods gnarl with the same vines and fruit that wrap up your Aldera castle so safely, which meant Jeanist’s halberd made quick work of the familiar trees when it came time for you to chop firewood. Kirishima loved watching this part most, as you instructed and explained the basic nature of maple and the best angles to hit it. “The axehead here,” you tossed your halberd higher into your grip to point at the blade, “isn’t at all made for this. But the carriage ax is too heavy for me.” You were quick to nurse your finger between your lips after forgetting just how sharp your mentor keeps his tools and Kirishima jumped at the opportunity to take over.

Jeanist takes you camping sometimes. He calls it playing favorites when other soldiers ask, but rarely do you do anything with Jeanist besides train, camping included. Splitting wood was day one. You can recognize nuts and leaves, hunt creature and beast by bow, dagger, and lance. A fire was the simplest thing you could think to do tonight and it has Kirishima drawn in with sparkling eyes, begging you to teach him how to lean the sticks to one another or shave kindling from bark.

“Y/n, won't it go out?”

Your name brings you back. You place a hand over the Champion’s before you’re completely aware of your surroundings, to keep him from fiddling with anything else, “I promise it won’t. Look.” And point to the white hot hollow just below the tent of flames. Embers are what’ll keep your campsite warm all night, not a raging fire on big logs. It’s a simmering sense of pride you feel that if you were good for nothing else, you could at least start a fire in a rainstorm.

Aizawa is long-asleep on the driver’s bench. The carriage twinkles at the very edge of the clearing, you imagine to keep it safe from flames or potential explosive fury in conversation around the campfire. You smile behind the hot mug that Mina hands you at the thought of arriving in Takoba on a single singed platform– all that would be left of the fairy carriage after the prince’s companions antagonized him a few words too far.

“For you,” Shinsou murmurs while he winds his way around the campfire with bedrolls for each traveler. He drops yours beside your seat and overcome with– something– laziness? His master’s contagious exhaustion?– tosses one over the fire to the prince who is approaching camp, having given up on his mission for readable light.

You’re one step closer to that singed carriage, you think, when the prince catches the bedding in a fist and drops it where he stops at the farthest point from all of you in the circle. His broad chest vibrates inside furs.

“Keep it down.”

This is a very obvious assertion to everyone but you, that it’s time for the prince to go to bed. The sun just set, you bewilder and then he does in fact kick open his roll beside the fire and settle down with his back turned. Other than yourself and Shinsou, the company lets up a knowing chorus of, 'G’night Bakugou's that catch you by surprise. You look to Kirishima for confirmation and when he’s too busy poking at your fire to notice, you lower your face into the steam coming off your mug.

“Is that your magic?”

When you cast your eyes up to see which company member has taken to immediately disrupting the prince’s peace, Mina is the one watching you. You’re supposed to be checking the carriage for wear and reinforcing the perimeter before tucking in for the night, and you suppose it was only a matter of time before someone noticed you slacking in your duties. You breathe the steam in from your tea slowly, so it doesn't burn you, but enough that it warms your motivation to move away from the fire. Kirishima is looking at you now too, when you pull your dark Takoban cloak around your shoulders and dust off your knees.

“Y/n?”

“Stay,” you smile at him, “Eat, be warm. I have to check in with Master Aizawa.”

Shinsou peers up at you from his seat between Denki and Sero. Mina clears her throat, “But you didn’t answer the question.”

Did you miss something? You glance between the faces of your sitting company to try and sort out the pieces of their conversation, but she’s looking only at you.

“Are you a flame mage?”

“What?”

Then Sero laughs. He laughs like he doesn’t mean to and covers his mouth, which ignites the purple blush across Mina’s face. “I–I didn’t–! Was that weird? You guys are thinking it too, c’mon–”

“I don’t say everything I think, Mina.”

“Spare me, yes you do!”

The prince, laying deadly still and very much not asleep, grunts. The Champion leans back to look up at you as you stand above the group, still a few steps behind in their conversation. He offers you up your mug again as an invitation to sit, “They’re just curious is all.”

“I don’t do magic,” you murmur, only to him. You take your cup from his hand but before he lets go, he tugs downwards to pull you back to his side. The fire is hot but not so big that you can’t sit exceptionally close to it.

“So no to fire magic?” Mina pipes up again, “What do you do?”

“I don’t, M'lady.”

“Don’t…do anything?”

“I do plenty,” you chuckle, “but I can’t do magic.”

A growl sounds off from the prince who’s dragged himself up to sitting in the single blink of an eye. He seems less irritated with the lack of sleep he’s getting and more by your apparent lack of magical aptitude. Like it’s a personal slight.

“What’s the point of you then?”

You don’t dare eye contact when he speaks, but you’ve heard this kind of intimidation from his mother. Kirishima is looking, and he points sharp in his prince’s direction to clip short whatever might come next.

You rally, “I swear I’m no less competent than any fighting mage.”

But Prince Bakugou is no longer interested in you, and only barks when Mina throws an acorn cap at the back of his head. Kirishima nudges you a bit when you try to dip into your mug again.

“Have you ever tried?”

“Tried what?”

“Magic.”

What used to be your smile twists into confusion, but the Champion presses on, “You’d be surprised how many people think they can’t do any magic at all, when really their gift is just specific! Like, uh— the man who works proofing ovens in the kitchens at home only has one fireproof hand,” The redhead has himself chuckling along with the rest of his friends but presses a flat, gentle hand into your back to keep you safe from his enthusiasm, “You can imagine the day he found out his other half wasn’t so flame retardant.”

The prince looks like he’s winding up to yell at you all again over his delicate sleep schedule so Denki is quick to butt in with, “Why not try now?”

Today is a lot to take in. Promises, apologies, a lesson in campfires, but you aren’t going to add mage training to the list. You balance the mug under gentle fingertips, “I don’t need magic to do my job.”

“That’s badass.”

“But Y/n, what if you have some crazy world-ending power?!”

You look to Shinsou for a bit of level-headed support but he turns away to let you simmer in the attention alone, smiling.

“Or what if you can, like, bring back the dead? Or heal the sick! How many sick people have you touched recently?”

“Or dead people?”

Mina and Denki try to bounce as many ideas off each other as they can fit into the next few seconds before the prince blasts their heads off and you feel like a real afterthought in all. But the questions subside, the prince doesn’t blow, and now you’re expected to answer. Even the Champion at your side is looking at you with those soft red eyes of his. You dip your lips back into your mug for a warm sip before responding, “I wouldn’t know.”

Kirishima’s the only one who really understands what you mean and tries to change the subject but Mina scrambles across the small clearing and gets a hold of you before he can speak. She’s gentle when she takes one of your hands and stretches it out towards the fire.

“When I use magic, I relax my arms like this,” she wiggles her fingers, “and it just oozes outta me.”

“Literally,” Sero chuckles. Mina shakes you back into focus before you can ask him what he means.

“What if you relax real good– here hold your hand just like this– and then boom! You blow up the whole campsite. Your magic could be really powerful like that.” She has your arm outstretched, the one not holding tea, and she’s miming going limp with her own hand. You give in. She’s a royal guest, and you’re in no position to deny her. Your eyes flutter closed.

You used to try this as a kid, willing your own magical gift to manifest in your bedroom after Jeanist called for curfew. It feels the same now as it always has, not that you’re concentrating as hard as you used to at eight years old. It feels like nothing. Magic can manifest a million ways, but from forever til today the only way you ever pictured proper magic was flowing from sweaty palms and jagged fingers. You curl a little closer to your knees but commit, and flex your fingers the way you’ve seen beautiful magic made before.

“Try to picture something pretty.” You’re not sure who says it, and gods you feel silly, but you comply and focus on the warmth that tingles your fingers from the fire in front of you. For some reason, the first thing you imagine is velvet.

Immediately your hand is so hot you have to open your eyes to keep from snatching it back to your chest.

It’s the light that you see in your dreams in that little cup your fingers made. It’s the stars that fall from the sky in corners of the castle at night. White, purple, orange, and blue. It’s the same as the prince’s beautiful magic, in your own outstretched fingers for a single fleeting, flickering moment. Your heart is in your head. Your eyes wide and trembling. It’s just a second of pure bright light before the spark bounces off your palm hot enough to make your eyes water, and dies as quickly as it is beautiful into the campfire.

Beats of excitement tap your chest as you look to the group, but the prince’s eyes are the first ones you see and he looks altogether too happy with himself for you not to realize. Bakugou shakes the rest of the sparks from his fingers and doesn’t fight the smirk spread across his lips, though, the very second you meet his gaze he bristles. The group around you shifts uncomfortably. What’s he supposed to do with those big eyes of yours, huh?

“Don’t be an ass Bakugou, we’re just having fun.”

“s’not my fault she’s gullible.”

Kirishima’s warmth isn’t enough to keep you at the campfire. The horses started snorting at the fireworks and so you nestle your cup in the dirt around the fire to regain your focus, “Apologies, Highness. I’m acting unprofessionally.”

“Y/n don’t–” Mina tries to salvage your company but you smile,

“I got comfortable before even feeding the horses.”

And you do mean it. You’re standing now and you make sure to nod to every member of the company before you back into the dark of the far camp, “Good night everyone. Thank you very much for the tea.” It’s okay. You’ll set up your bedroll near the carriage in the dark so that the crackling fire doesn’t keep you from hearing footsteps. Yes, you’ll sleep alone like you’re used to, with the familiar smells of horses and finally get some rest.

“Good night Y/n,” Mina whispers. Denki throws a disapproving acorn cap across the fire at Bakugou’s bare shoulder. He ignores it and takes a sip from his mug. Sero throws another.

PREV | M.LIST | TAGLIST | NEXT

tagged angels ✧.* nnubee cherrykamado nonomesupposedto zombiewarprincess kotarousproperty strawberry-mentos69 sveetnn eirlysian lunrai cherripunch26nch26 km74744 arayoflia

(tumblr keeps deleting the end of my fics, including my reader tags! I didn't re-tag the lovelies above because I'm sure they're getting sick of the notifications as I try to fix it. tags will be back to normal next ch! if you've signed up for the tag list, have no fear, I think I've figured it out)

#thank you so much for your support!!#this story is my baby #my slow moving baby #trust is the name of the game folks #theres only excitement from here on out #swearsies #a hymn to black water #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #mha fantasy au #bnha fantasy au #fantasy bakugo #fantasy bakugou

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timeturner-jay · 8 months

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So for a few days now, I've been trying to puzzle out what memories Monkey King was seeing in those brief blink-and-you'll-miss-it glimpses we got in the broken memory scroll. Maybe you guys have some input?

Let's start out easy - these two flashes are very straightforward. He sees the Jade Emperor bearing down on him, either in battle or in punishment. Simple enough! (Though the way he's holding his head in pain is breaking my heart a bit.)

The next one is a bit trickier (and my shoddy picture quality isn't helping, so if anyone has any higher-resolution screenshots, I'd appreciate it!) - we can make out Wukong fighting someone, staff in hand. His opponent seems quite large and bulky, and their head-shape might suggest the Demon Bull King - but I don't think we ever see DBK in such long, flowing sleeves in this show. Though maybe this is their encounter during the Journey, and those sleeves belong to the green silk dinner jacket the Bull King was then wearing in the original tale?

Then there's the next one, which just has me utterly nonplussed; it's nearly impossible to make out much of anything in it, since the memory flash is so faint. Those two darker shapes might be a pair of eyes? But if so, they'd be set in a truly massive head, so I'm not sure. Whatever it is, the shape seems to be bound with glowing ropes - so maybe we're looking at our dear Great Sage Equal to Heaven, bound with the diamond snare at his own execution? It's the only thing I can think of, but if you guys have any better ideas, I'm all ears!

And then there's the last memory flash, which is a lot more straightforward again, but very interesting in its own right. 😌 We see someone's bare, muscled torso, and judging by the overall build and those hair tassels, I'm going to assume it's probably Azure Lion, so-

...soooooo, hey Wukong! Any reason in particular why you remember seeing Azure Lion's naked tiddies? 👀 Anything you want to share with the class, o Great Sage?

#djfgs you can't tell me that the dynamic between Azure and Wukong wasn't fruity af #But until I saw this memory flash I kinda assumed it was one-sided lol. Now though... hmmm. 👀#Anyway I really would appreciate your input if you can make sense of any of these pictures!#LMK Sun Wukong #LMK Monkey King #LMK Jade Emperor #LMK Azure Lion #Lego Monkie Kid #analysis #theory #LMK season 4 #LMK s4 spoilers #LMK s4 special spoilers

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legend-of-thyme · 5 months

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Today is @ikaishere 's birthday (at least in my time zone, and I know I'm barely squeaking it in here) and tomorrow is mine. I borrowed the modern AU boys to write some sibling fluff and GrooZeLink. Hope you had a great birthday!!!

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“What do you guys think? The feather earrings or the swords?” Sky turns his head side to side critically eyeing his reflection in the mirror.

“Personally I think you should worry more about finding some pants first,” drawls Wars from where he’s sprawled over bed without even looking up from his phone. “Sun and Groose might not mind your ratty old pajama shorts, but the restaurant will probably have some objections”.

Sky flops backwards into a pile of laundry with a groan earning himself an indignant squeak from Wind.

“Sky!” he complains, snatching up one of his hands before he can run it through his hair. “You’re going to ruin my masterpiece”

“Sorry, sorry,” he replies, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “At least my nails will look nice even if I have to go dressed in a burlap sack”. Wind beams and he can’t help but smile. The kid did a good job on the nails, even forgoing his usual favorite neon oranges for a softer shade of blue coated in white crackle.

Warrior’s eye roll is nearly audible. “Don’t be dramatic. Didn’t you buy a skirt for tonight just last week?”

“That was before I knew we were going indoor skydiving between the escape room and dinner! I have to bring a change of clothes and if I put it in my bag it will get all horrible and wrinkly.”

Wind pokes through one of the discarded piles of shirts, picking things up to examine them before tossing them to the side. “Just wear your date jeans. It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you just wear what you like?”

Sky pouts. Wind is right of course, but it’s the principle of the thing. He has plenty of clothes that hit the sweet spot of being comfortable while also making him feel confident and attractive, but he’s hoping for more tonight. Something to really wow his partners. There’s a warmth that curls through his chest whenever Groose gives him a slow once over and a low whistle, or when Sun reaches out to trace the pattern of his shirt or play with a bit of lace or tassel that he would bottle and keep forever if he could. And maybe War’s is right and he is being a little dramatic, but that warmth is going to be his birthday present to himself if he has to turn his closet inside out to get it.

A balled up sock hits him in the head, breaking him from his thoughts. He looks around in time to seek Wars drop his phone on the bedside table and swing to his feet.

“Do you trust me?,” he asks, smiling.

“A terrifying question,” Wind mutters under his breath and Sky can’t help snorting a laugh into his fist as Warriors sticks his tongue out at their youngest brother, dignity forgotten.

“I would trust Wild at this point if it gets me to my date on time”.

“All right then,” Wars cracks his knuckles with a grin. “Grab your date jeans. We’ll pair them with Sun’s old band shirt she did that diy fringe on”.

“The ‘without music life would B♭’ one? Are you sure?” Sky frowns as Wind begins searching.

“Very. The stupid pun makes you smile and it shows a little skin,” Wars nods and circles him slowly as he pulls on the clothes. “The purple silk scarf would make a cute belt and if you promise not to scuff them I’ll lend you my jacquard docs”. He nods, satisfied. “It’s going to get cold tonight so you should top it off with Groose’s old leather jacket you stole when he wanted to get rid of it”.

Sky spins slowly, getting a feel for the outfit and letting Wars examine his work before turning to the mirror. It’s comfortable and easy to move in and the shoes and belt make it feel special enough for a date outfit. Wind clambers up onto the bed behind him and swiftly does up the clasp to a necklace before jumping down to hug onto his side. He reaches up and smiles softly as he feels the familiar iris brooch.

“There,” Wars returns his smile and ruffles Wind’s hair. “Now you look perfect”.

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

“Sky!” Sun calls, rushing across the parking lot to pull him down for a kiss before leaning her head on his shoulder and tangling her fingers in the beaded tassels of his shirt. “We were starting to worry you’d fallen asleep or something.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and hugs her tighter, admiring the way she looks with his old fuzzy green sweater hanging off one shoulder. “And miss my perfect birthday date? Never. I bet Legend we could beat the escape room’s record time”.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach even as he teases her, reminding him of the early days of his crush.

“Well, well, well,” Groose saunters more slowly across the lot, hands shoved in his pockets. “I never thought I’d see the day, but I think you wear that jacket better than I ever did”. He pulls Sky in to kiss him, once on the lips and once on the forehead, before holding him at arms length and whistling slowly. “I like the different earrings”.

The different– Sky’s hands fly to his ears and, sure enough, he’s still wearing one feather earring and one sword. “Yeah,” he says, doing his best to sound casual and knowing he’s failing, “I wanted to try something new”.

Groose smiles down at him knowingly as Sun bursts into laughter. He can feel his cheeks reddening and desperately searches for a change in subject. “What about you?” he asks Groose, gesturing at his too tight plaid shirt. “You look like you’re about to burst out of that thing? Where did you even get–”

He cuts himself off and looks at the shirt again. “Wait. That’s my shirt.” He looks between them, baffled as Sun begins to grin and Groose looks sheepish and almost nervous. “Are you both wearing my clothes?”

“We thought it might be fun to match,” Groose admits, embarrassed. “You’re wearing our things”.

“It was Groose’s idea,” Sun nods enthusiastically. “And I told Wars to text us what you picked out. Did you really change your outfit six times?”

Warmth blazes through Sky’s chest as he looks at his partners. It’s such a fun idea and the sort of thing he would normally suggest. The sort of thing other people had teased him for in the past. They put so much effort into today and they did it all for him. His mouth opens and closes and he finds himself at a loss for what to say. What words could possibly be enough?

Sky swallows the lump in his throat and beams at them as hard as he can. “I really love you guys, you know?”.

#ika's modern au #lu sky #lu wind #lu warriors #lu sun #lu groose #groozelink #you always seem to have so much fashion fun #drawing isn't really my thing #but i thought id try writing some

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uhohitsdorian · 11 months

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Ludari for @/Neopawliton on Instagram! This was part of an outfit exchange event, so I’ve only designed and drawn the clothes on top of the adorable base provided! I guess I’ve thoroughly cemented myself as the guy who draws drow in hanfu/hanyuansu now... all things considered, pretty good legacy I think.

[Image: a digital drawing of Ludari, a drow wizard, in beautiful, flowing robes and jewellery. He has pale lilac skin with white freckles, and round, grey eyes. His long, wavy white hair is adorned around his face in dangling gold and silver, including a lotus crown and several hairsticks and asymmetric earrings. He has a sleeveless teal-blue vest with silver frog fastenings and a faint pattern of leaves, and a sheer, seafoam-coloured scarf draped around his arms and tucked into a matching sash. Sheer silks hang off his arms from gold bangles and rings, and from the sash hangs a talisman with a holed disc and beaded tassels. His deep purple, ankle-length skirt is similarly patterned in leaves, and he wears black socks with gold shoes that upturn into points at the toes. End ID.]

#OCOEE #D&D #Art #Drow #Wizard #Ludari Beltune #Neopawliton #Hanfu #Hanyuansu #Fashion #Design #Collab #The Pictures of Dorian They #ID #14.3 #2023

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gracegrove · 8 months

Note

1920’s secret gay bars

Send me a decade and two word prompts

1920 (the way this makes me wanna watch Chicago...) I had to do a little research for this as I'm not too familiar with the topic, you'll have to forgive me if it comes off too much like a speakeasy. my attempt to write this with some gender fluid flavor to it because it seems the clubs of the 20s-30s were places that allowed individuals spaces for free expression when they could not do so readily in their everyday lives.

tw light use of the slur 'fairie'

Steve was nervously fiddling with his cufflinks, tugging at his overly starched white collar. Why did he agree to come here with Robin? He wasn't some 'fairie'. He wasn't like these people. These people sure were something else. Painted faces. Men with rouged lips and high arching eyebrows. Women in pinstriped suits and pant legs. Wigs. Feather boas. Silk scarves. Tassles. Flappers.

There was no semblance of order. Who was a man? Who was a woman? Steve couldn't tell. "That's the entire deal!" Robin told Steve. He looked at her like she was crazy. How could people be happy in so much chaos?

Handing Steve a stiff drink, Robin pushed him into a seat and introduced him to the regulars. Steve politely greeted each of them, lighting cigarettes and shaking hands.

The room darkened and a spotlight centered on the stage as the long drawling whine of a trumpet kicked up. The whole club quieted as a single leg entered the limelight, tan and supple.

The spotlight widened, revealing a blonde in a gilded gown that tapered at their mid-thigh but was adorned with a train's length of golden tassels.

"Who's that?" Steve blurted aloud, only to be harshly hushed by multiple people including Robin.

The band struck up as this individual raised a silk-gloved hand and began.

They were like a songbird, beautiful and delicate. Steve was captivated, hanging on every note that they uttered. He was dazzled.

The song ended too quickly, Steve startling when the crowd burst into uproarious applause.

"Isn't he so lovely?" Robin asked, still clapping. "He?" asked Steve, not taking his eyes away from the stage as the performer took their bows.

"Yes," Robin said, "Would you like to meet him?"

Steve shook his head, "No that's quite alright... I-"

Robin was already pulling them from the stage by the arm. They were suddenly larger and looked more masculine and intimidating to Steve up close. He wanted to turn tail and run.

"You must meet my good friend," Robin stated, patting them on the hand, "This is Steve. It's his first time." Robin whispered the last part in their ear.

Steve could feel his face heating, "Was Robin telling them something good about him? Hopefully." He held out his hand in a gentlemanly fashion, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

They placed their hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, "Billy, it's charming to meet you." Billy smiled sharply at Steve, "You were staring at me during my whole performance. Did you see anything you liked?"

Steve's face flushed, "I uh... well, I just. You're a very beautiful woman. I mean man!... I -!" He cut himself off, biting on his fist in light frustration. "I'm sorry."

Billy laughed, high and rolling. "What a mighty compliment!" Pulling a cigarette loose from an case laying open on the bartop Billy slotted it between his painted lips, looking at Steve expectantly.

Steve patted his pockets in panic before finding his lighter and lighting it for him. Billy took a thoughtful puff.

"Want to come to my dressing room and tell me what else you liked?"

Steve nodded.

#billy in his jessica rabbit era #whipped steve #1920 au #harringrove #billy x steve #lol i like this one #like i have the whole outfit in my head already and god he looks like a babe

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incorrect-mtg · 7 months

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Flavor Text Highlights - Mirage

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

Funny - Pacifism

For the first time in his life, Grakk felt a little warm and fuzzy inside.

Funny - Elixir of Vitality

“Eternal life or your money back.” —Unnamed Suq'Ata merchant, deceased

Emotional - Reign of Terror

“I don’t know what takes them; they die around me without time to scream.” —Scout Ekemet, final journal

Worldbuilding - The entire Love Song of Night and Day* *which I will put under a line break because it's super long AND I want to repost content from a Wizards article which is no longer available

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

The full poem, taken from the article of the same name originally posted in 2003 on the wizards website (here) with footnotes explaining which cards quote it.:

Love Song of Night and Day by Jenny Scott

He (Night) / She (Day)

Wrap yourself in your best bright clothes, your red and purple scarves of silk. Run with me to the festival, where we will dance until sunrise. The dwarves will beat their funny drums of zebra skins and hollowed trees, while stiltwalkers perform, and the musician blows his bamboo flute.

And late in the night, the poets and storytellers entertain, delight us with their dancing words, as we listen, clapping by the fire. Enchant me with your tale-telling. Tell about Tree, Grass, River, and Wind. Tell why Truth must fight with Falsehood, and why Truth will always win.1

I will tell my father's stories: how the giant mantis fooled Death by holding still as a felled tree; how the elephants trampled the leopard cub, and its father, though he knew, killed nine goats instead;2 how pirates gambled with a djinn and lost the thing more dear than gold.3

Tonight we'll eat a farewell feast. Cold corn porridge is not enough. Let's peel papayas, pineapples, and mangoes, drink coconut milk, and bake bananas.4 We'll dine on crocodiles, wild birds, and turtles, perhaps a hippopotamus--if only you can catch it first.

I'll build a palace made of stone. Two hippo-headed guards will serve, and tigers carry in your meals. I'll capture flying zebras for your steeds, and fill the stable with every kind of unicorn.5 Butterflies and salamanders will decorate your garden.

I'll strand long strings of beads for you, blue, the color only kings may wear. I'll carve a soapstone lioness, a wooden box to lock it in, girded with sapphire amulets, ostrich feathers, ivory. These things will protect you while I'm gone, remind you of my love for you.6

Your voice resounds like a songbird's, every word is a sweet, soft song. When you run you're graceful and swift, sleek as a powerful panther.7 Mysterious chameleon, you're a thousand women at once, sharp and strong as a lioness, yet gentle as a striped gazelle.

On this our last day together, let us walk across the grasslands. Hold my hand and let's walk slowly, seeing everything as children. Let's walk on the Daraja Plains, where leopards hang from trees, dosing, tasseled tails swaying in the shade, near villages of tree-dwelling elves.

Glorious, to walk again across the savannah with my beloved. A lion walks commandingly, a general among his troops, camped the night before a battle. A snake, colorful and coiled, loops around his bough, mischievous, hanging over the village path.

We'll find termites in their nests, hard tall towers above the plains, and point-eared cats, taking their turns, guarding their many entrances. We'll find the basket-nests of birds hanging from the acacia tree. Rhinoceroses and dragons for once will let us walk in peace.

When lightning tears the sky's dark cloak and heaven's bird beats the water on the muddy plains with its big wings, termites and frogs escape their homes toward the lamps in the nearest village. Spiders dry themselves indoors, the spotted lizards that never fall from ceilings suddenly appear.

In the forest, fires light the sky as the black clouds unfold their weight.8. The black-and-white sacred monkey holds her children to her, and waits.9 Love, like lightning hits suddenly. It sparks the heart with blows of light, its fire extending, bends, expands, beats and breaks your hiding places.

* * *

Remember when we were children, herding the sheep together, leading them over the grassy hills with long sticks. Your silly songs made me laugh, and in the evening, you'd enchant me with your stories, lying on your back beside me. Even then my heart was yours.

I remember your sacred rites. You were so funny, so grown up, so stiff and serious, all arms and elbows. You went in a girl, but you returned a warrior. You marched back with the others-- your hair was cut, your eye tattooed with the red triangle of war.10

Tomorrow I must go, my love. I will tattoo my head with braids. My shield will bear a shining sun so you will always be with me. Inlaid with gold, it will shine like glowing embers.11 I will return with lizard skins for your sandals. Paint your eyes black and wait for me.12

I am the sun, you are the moon. Wherever you lead I will go, following across the wide sky, as long as I live and you love. Sun follows Moon until she tires, then carries her until she's strong and runs ahead of him again.13 I'll carry you, too, my beloved.

My love, we are not Sun and Moon. Instead we are like day and night. The old ones say Day is a woman, who works only while it is light. She herds her goats and catches fish, fills her fields with golden corn, shows her children what is just and protects them from the cobra.

Day loves Night, who works in darkness, walking through heaven's milky sky collecting stars with his quick arms, piling them into a basket like a child collecting lizards and piling them into her pot until the pot overflows with lizards, 'til the basket overflows with light.

Night wears a black cloak lined with fire, studded inside with gleaming stars. At dawn and dusk he spies his love. Across the rolling hills of sky, they glimpse each other--so briefly. They throw each other kisses, cry. Their tears spill over Jamuraa. Mixed with blood, they wash everything red.14

But once, with a magician's help, Time was stopped and Day stood still.15 Night spread over Jamuraa, wrapped Day in his dark cloak and held her. In their miraculous embrace, the two became as One. Until pulled from Day's arms, Night sank, commanded by the western horizon that always beckons him to come.

I won't give up hope, my love.

Our love is like the river in the summer season of long rains: For a little while it spilled its banks, flooding the crops in the fields.16 But soon it will evaporate with the dry heat. Like Day from Night, I'll live my life apart from you, just glimpsing you across the sky, because you cannot change, my dear, and nor can I.17

[1] "Enchant me…" - Village Elder, Mirage [2] "I will tell my father's stories… how the elephants…" - Wild Elephant, Mirage [3] "…pirates…" - Kukemssa Pirates, Mirage [4] "Tonight…" - early harvest, Mirage and Sixth Edition [5] "I'll capture…" - Zebra Unicorn, Mirage (note that "flying" was changed to "gentle" on the card.) [6] "These things…" - Remedy, Visions and Sixth Edition [7] "When you run…" - Panther Warriors, Visions [8] "In the forest…" - Flare, Mirage [9] "The black-and-white…" - simoon, Visions [10] "…you returned a warrior… your hair was cut…" - Zhalfirin Knight, Mirage [11] "My shield…" - blinding light, Mirage [12] "I will return…" - Femeref Knight, Mirage [13] "Sun follows…" - Chariot of the Sun, Mirage [14] "Their tears…" - Mortal Wound, Visions [15] "But once…" - Sands of Time, Visions [16] "Our love…" - Summer Bloom, Visions [17] "Like Day from Night…" - Unfulfilled Desires, Mirage

#magic the gathering #flavor text highlights #Love Song of Night and Day #mirage

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indianlacesandfabricsupplier · 9 months

Text

Discover the magical world of tassel silk thread earrings! Light, colorful, and full of charm—embrace playful elegance like never before!

#tassel silk thread earrings

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incorrect-koh-posts · 2 months

Text

Chapter 11 on AO3

“Slower, girl. Slower! By all that is holy – do they not read books in Kerak?”

Sibylla lay sprawled on her bed, half-buried under a heap of tasselled cushions and silks. She had been complaining of a headache all day, but when she heard Isolt and Fenie approach, she feebly lifted her head, keeping a hand pressed to her brow to prevent her cold compress from slipping. “Ah,” she said, sinking back into the mattress. “There you are. I need some refreshment to combat all the words that child is butchering.”

Seeing Isabella cringe in her high-backed chair, Isolt very nearly cringed along with her. Her own truce with the queen still stood on shaky legs, too new to carry much weight, and Isolt was still frighteningly aware that Sibylla was watching her every move.

She had, after all, admitted to it herself.

“I saw you, you know,” Sibylla had mentioned casually one evening out in the gardens, mere days ago. Hitching up her skirts with one hand, she had sat beside Isolt on the rim of the trickling fountain, close enough that their knees touched. “You and my esteemed cousin, at my lord husband’s tourney. You seemed rather … familiar with one another, non?”

It had taken Isolt her all not to drop the embroidery she’d been working on into the water. Yet something in her face must have betrayed her, for Sibylla had smiled at her, with the deceptive mildness of a cat that has placed its soft paw on the mouse’s tail. “Oh, don’t look so caught out! Thought you were being discreet, poor gosling, did you?”

Isolt felt as though a rug had been pulled from under her feet. “My lady,” she stammered, curling her fingers round the cool stone of the fountain’s ledge. “Madam, I hardly –”

She and Lord Tiberias? In some small corner of her mind, of course, she had expected that such an accusation might be levelled at the two of them eventually. After all, they saw each other often; and though they took some precautions with choosing the time and place for their meetings, none of it was clandestine, exactly. Why, Tiberias was a married man! And he did not strike her as being of the unfaithful sort of husbands that prowled about court, chasing after every skirt. Besides, he was so much older than her. And even if – if one of them were to even consider – surely, then, he’d prefer someone else. Some older lady, perhaps, whom he’d known for years; a grave and much more worldly-wise person than her, who’d whisper daring, heated words into his ear at night, but would dress again at the crack of dawn and return to her husband’s quarters with scarcely a perfunctory peck on her lover’s cheek. Or perhaps -

Isolt had reined in her shameful fancies with some effort before they galloped away with her entirely. But when she had looked up again, her cheeks were burning, and she’d known Sibylla had her precisely where she’d wanted her.

“I must admit,” Sibylla had said, idly trailing a hand through the leaf-strewn water, “it quite surprised me the old fox still shows interest in you. Be warned – he has a habit of dropping people once they have served their purpose in his schemes. And I cannot for the life of me see what advantage an insignificant thing like you might win him, at present. Not with my husband, that’s for certain, what with your connection to William Marshal! If it were influence he wanted, my lord Tiberias had better seduce Reynald’s horse than bother with the likes of you.” A pensive expression crossed her features; she gave a shrug. “Well, I suppose his years are beginning to mellow him. You have some little charm, I grant, when you choose to put some effort into it …”

Perhaps it was the veiled jab at her pride that made Isolt find her voice. “Nothing untoward has passed between the count and I, Your Grace,” she said, hoarse but firm. “I assure you.”

Sibylla had laughed at that, somewhat shrilly, as if she found Isolt’s desperation both familiar and hideously entertaining. “No assurances needed, ma chère. I heard of those poor young fellows you recently jilted so recklessly. That fierce little German – and one of Scandalion’s scions, was it?” Her gaze grew sharp. “Just out of curiosity, was my cousin the one who convinced you to set your sights a little higher?”

Set my sights a little higher? Isolt had almost recoiled. She knew everything was a game of ambition in this place, all the perilous climbs and descents from the cradle to the grave, but she had ill considered how her own actions would be read. She believes she deserves better, the silly chit. That was what Severijn had said about her decision, quite deliberately within hearing range, and she’d seen him preen when his friends had jeered. And yet, deep down, wasn’t that exactly what she believed? That she deserved a life without the constant jingling of fear at the back of her skull, beside someone who didn’t trample on her views, her trust? Someone to whom she was more than a mere connection made with some other man, some prize to be won?

Read the rest here :)

#fic update #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfic #fanfiction #raymond iii of tripoli #tiberias x oc #my writing #in case anyone is interested #my emotional support old man

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ice-creamforbreakfast · 1 year

Photo

::Download:: (Patreon - Available for all 23th March 2023)

If The Sims series has given us anything, it's good villains. This set is inspired by some favourites across the series; Vita Alto (TS3), Lily Feng (TS4), Count Vladislaus Straud IV (TS4) and possibly the most evil, Angela Pleasant (TS2).

Item descriptions below the cut:

Vita Dress - A Maxi Dress with bishop sleeves and embroidered details on the collar, sleeve and waist

Verdlana Hair - A low, braided bun with volume in the crown and a centre part

Vittoria Pendant - A rope chain pendant with tassel

Vittoria Earrings - Tassel drop earrings

Victoria Dress - A patterned silk dress with open cape sleeves

Serpentine Necklace - Sneklace in precious metal with gemstone inlay eyes

Serpentine Bracelet - Coiled bracelet in precious metal with gemstone inlay eyes

Arabella Earrings - Gemstone earrings with fringing detail

Vlad Smoking Jacket - Who says cleavage is just for women? Not Vlad. Smoking jacket in a variety of patterns with quilted collar and sleeve trim

Vlad Teeth - Double fangs in four options. Two bloodied and two with rather undead looking gums

Angela Dress - Deceptively sweet looking off the shoulder 50s prom dress

Heuchera Earrings - 50s/60s style bakelite earrings with some painted options (including two cursed surprises)

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4cc #ts4mm #maxis match #the sims 4 custom content #s4cc #ts4 custom content

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kharrisdawndancer · 17 days

Text

It was well past the holiday, but Khaeris never had much use for calendars when it came to celebrating. Giving would always be something she enjoyed, even if she had never had much use or attraction to the common sort of gift. Pyraelia and she had made those confetti eggs, so each basket had gotten at least a few of those. They were prettily dyed in bright saturated colors. There were cookies and candies she’d made--some ‘medicated’ and some not. There were pretty ribbons woven into the reeds and then some personal touches to each of them. Pyraelia’s had candied fruit and a pair of fuzzy socks Khaeris folded to look like rabbit ears. The ‘grass’ was a green throw blanket and the basket itself was white and filled out with chocolate and tea tins. She’d put the skeins of yarn around the back half of the basket for a pop of color and filler. The little box held a blank puzzle and a set of gouache paints to decorate it with. Lastly a silly clay whistle in the shape of a songbird and glazed in a pretty pearlescent that caught the light--the kind of whistle you put water in and it made bird-like calls. Khaeris thought that Pyraelia would grin that infectious grin before blowing as loud as she could on it. Ahuatli’s basket had flavored lip balms nestled around teal and aqua colored confetti eggs. Khaeris grinned to picture her friend smashing one on her lover’s chest. Ahua’s laughter rang in Khaeris’s mind as she tucked in a gauzy silk scarf with tassels. There were Silvermoon truffles and some Kul Tiran treacle tucked next to an enchanted ‘buzzy ball’ -- originally sized and made for a Quel’Thalas lynx, Khaeris thought that a snow leopard would also enjoy it. Tied on as a ribbon was an anklet woven through with Quel'thalas seashells she’d picked up on the beach.

Pollux did indeed get ‘flowers’ made of tools. Sometimes you’d need some strong imaginoscopes to see the ‘flower’, but Khaeris had simply painted a tiny flowers,chicks, or rabbits on the tools she couldn’t arrange in a bouquet. She wasn’t sure what he’d do with yet another set of wrenches and ratchets and the like, but maybe he could find a use for them or give them to a student. There were metal nuts on the dark blue ribbon and thin stacks of washers wired together in patterns. It was much, much heavier than the other baskets. It was also much -louder- as she hefted it onto the kitchen table with a grunt. There were a few little vials of a well-known-to-them potion.

The other two baskets were on the bookcase by the door, ready to go out tomorrow in personal deliveries, but the heavy one sat in the center of the table. Khaeris herself perched on the edge of that table with her legs crossed and bunny ears on, bangles chiming as her legs swung lazily.

She was late, but it was the thought that counted, right?

When Pollux arrived home a few minutes later, she thought about throwing a confetti egg at him. She had one hidden in her hands behind her back, after all. There were at least two problems with that, though: Most importantly, you probably shouldn’t do that in surprise to someone with his past! But also, she would never hit him. She was a good throw, but he was faster and more dextrous. She could throw it NEAR him, but again, it could too easily be construed too similar to a grenade in the subconscious mind. No. She couldn’t throw it at him.

But when he looked up he saw her next to a ridiculous Noblegarden basket that couldn’t be for anyone but him. He smiled and she melted. The kiss was sweet and she almost felt bad smashing the egg on his head.

Almost. mentions: @pyraelia @darkspear-dancers @polluxhale

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chic-a-gigot · 1 year

Photo

La Mode illustrée, no. 12, 19 mars 1865, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Lise, 17 r. Nve. Ste. Augustin. Envois de la Mon de Commission Générale, r, d'Hauteville, 53. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Robe en poult-de-soie noir, bordée avec une grosse corde verte en soie. Au-dessus de cette corde, une guirlande d'épis brodés en soie verte remontant sur le devant de la robe et sur le corsage. Pardessus en drap léger, gris souris; grandes poches ornées de passementerie et de longues olives en passementerie; même ornement répété sur les épaules; manches étroites, fermées avec trois gros boutons plats. Chapeau de tulle noir garni en taffetas vert. Jupon blanc en percale, garni avec un volant ayant 6 centimètres de hauteur, plissé à gros tuyaux et à tête fixée par une bande de percale ayant 3/4 de centimètre de largeur, piquée sur chaque côté.

Robe en foulard écru foncé; allongée par une bande de foulard violet clair, ayant 10 centimètres de largeur. Cette bande remonte par devant en se rétrécissant graduellement jusqu'à la ceinture qui est de même nuance violette. Chemisette blanche, montante et plate, à petits plis et entre-deux. Veste courte entr'ouverte, bordée avec une bande violette; ces bandes sont partout surmontées d'anneaux entrelacés faits avec une grosse corde violette en soie; sur les épaules, mêmes anneaux terminés par des glands. La chemisette montante a un petit col droit auquel la bande violette garnissant l'encolure tient lieu de cravate. Chapeau blanc, moucheté de grosses perles noires; boules noires retombant par derrière.

—

Dress in black poult-de-silk, edged with a thick green silk cord. Above this rope, a garland of ears embroidered in green silk goes up the front of the dress and on the bodice. Overcoat in light cloth, mouse grey; large pockets decorated with passementerie and long olives in passementerie; same ornament repeated on the shoulders; narrow sleeves, closed with three large flat buttons. Hat in black tulle trimmed in green taffeta. White percale petticoat, trimmed with a flounce 6 centimeters high, pleated with large pipes and head fixed by a strip of percale 3/4 centimeter wide, stitched on each side.

Dark ecru foulard dress; lengthened by a strip of light purple scarf, 10 centimeters wide. This band goes up in front, gradually narrowing to the waistband, which is of the same purple shade. White shirt, high and flat, with small pleats and in-between. Half-open short jacket, edged with a purple band; these bands are everywhere surmounted by intertwined rings made with a thick purple silk cord; on the shoulders, the same rings ending in tassels. The rising shirt has a small straight collar to which the purple band trimming the neckline serves as a tie. White hat, speckled with large black pearls; black balls falling from behind.

#La Mode illustrée #19th century #1800s #1860s #1865 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #color #retouch #description #Forney #dress #toilette #ensemble #Lise #mantle #coat #bolero

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thatswhatsushesaid · 6 months

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WIP game: Chengyao whatever? 👀

full disclosure that this is actually part of an rp thread between myself and my pal @ghibli who has kindly given me the OK to adapt it into fic form for AO3. this bit is entirely my writing tho.

The complex web of feeling that spiders its way through Jin-furen's ferocious desire for this betrothal would concern Jin Guangyao more if he were not morbidly convinced that he will be dead long before he ever takes Jiang Wanyin to wife. Perhaps that is part of Jin-furen's desperation to see them wed and Jiang Wanyin moved into the bridal pavilion as quickly as possible: she can't fulfill hers and the late Jiang-furen's shared dream of bringing their families together through marriage if her idiot husband gets his newly legitimized bastard killed before they can take their bows before heaven and earth.

Because that is what is going to happen if Jin Guangyao does his duty and remains filial to Jin Guangshan. He's going to die because Jin Guangshan expects his filial son to kill Wei Wuxian.

The 'why' is simple and straight forward enough, of course. It's the 'how' that remains an insurmountable mystery, and so until he determines how best to solve it to his father's satisfaction, and on such an aggressive timeline, Jin Guangyao finds himself devoting slivers of each day to the grim, pragmatic task of getting his affairs in order. Just in case.

There is much secret correspondence that must be burned, to preserve the reputation of the Jin sect. Other correspondence, too, that he should consign to the flames to preserve the image of him that he hopes will live on in Lan Xichen's memory, even after he does what must be done. But Jiang Wanyin, god--what sort of betrothal gift does a groom present to his fiancé when he knows he plans to murder his adopted brother?

("For heaven's sake, just don't give him a comb," Nie Huaisang had fussed at him while taking him shopping in Qinghe. Somehow, Huaisang's company had been the least intolerable of his available options in the immediate aftermath of realizing how little regard Jin Guangshan held for the oath Jin Guangyao had just sworn to Lan Xichen. Huaisang hadn't seemed to care either, but his indifference to such things was impersonal, and it didn't stop him from hooking his arm through Jin Guangyao's elbow while he did what he did best: complain, and spend his Da-ge's money on expensive things.

Jin Guangyao had settled on a piece of exquisite pale jade cut and rounded into the shape of a lotus blossom, attached to a deep violet tassel made of silk. Spotting him considering it, Huaisang had been quick to gasp and then make all of the correct sounds of approval--and envy, which had cemented his decision. He'd opened his pursestrings and secured the purchase. There would be the other traditional betrothal gifts, of course--the gold jewelry, the candles, tea and wine--but this token of his affection he would deliver into Jiang Wanyin's hand himself.

And, upon Wei Wuxian's death, it could easily be sold or bartered away for the cost of a generous shrine and memorial placard. It would still serve some practical purpose, even after Jin Guangyao ruined Jiang Wanyin's life.)

He makes a conscious effort not to fidget with the weight of the jade token in his pocket as he glides through the halls of Jinlintai towards the reception hall, his expression mild and welcoming and his father's admonitions still ringing in his ears. It takes considerable willpower to keep himself from clenching his jaw and tightening his fingers into fists, to make sure his mannerisms remain as fluid and graceful as they always have while arranging the finer details of cultivation conferences and the lavish banquets that inevitably followed. His heart might as well be a rabbit thrashing in a snare in his ribcage, but he lets none of that show on his face. No, he will not embarrass his sect and shame himself; he will be a gracious and generous host to the man he is to marry and will treat him to an enjoyable and diverting afternoon in this nest of gilded pit vipers, or he will die trying.

#asks answered #ask meme #mdzs fic #chengyao

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