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#so the average person might be dressed more simply
artwheat · 1 year
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my girls tricky and maewynn
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hannieehaee · 7 months
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18+ / mdi
a member finding your nudes - 96 line
95 line, 96 line, 97 line, maknae line
wc: 1818
masterlist
jun -
jun was extremely close to all seventeen members, considering them all basically his blood brothers. although he felt this special connection to all of them, he couldnt help but feel a little extra close to minghao, sharing a language with him and being able to speak to him as freely as possible. this special sense of closeness between them allowed jun to come to minghao for advice whenever he wanted to edit a special vlog for carats, trusting his artistic advice more than anyone else.
as the two sat next to one another and fiddled with jun's phone, a notification from you arrived. on pure accident, minghao's fingers tapped the top of the screen just as the notification arrived, causing the text bubble to open up in the imessage app. unfortunately for jun, this was not one of the usual light-hearted and sweet messages you'd usually send him while he was away at the company.
no, this was a picture of you, fully nude, with a text attached asking him to hurry home and take care of you.
minghao was not an easy man to fluster, but jun had now come to find out that if he ever wanted to make the younger blush, your nude body would do just fine to get the job done. although embarrassed at the accidental intrusion, jun couldnt help but feel a sense of pride at minghao's reaction, knowing that his pretty girlfriend not only had such an effect on himself, but seemingly even on the stoic man sitting by his side.
this pride was short-lived, however, as the bashfulness grew in him, heating up at both the implications of your message and at the awkward conversation that would now follow between him and his friend.
"i- sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. he gently took the phone from his hands and put it in his back pocket, "i-"
"dont say anything. i'm .. i'm just gonna go," replied hao in a strained voice, hurriedly exiting the room and wondering how he would ever make eye contact with jun's pretty girl from now on.
soonyoung -
many thought that soonyoung was a little air-headed at times. it wasnt that he was dumb, no, he was actually quite smart, but he occasionally tended to let his actions come before allowing himself a chance to think.
this was one of those many instances.
due to some delays at the venue in which seventeen was currently promoting their new comeback at, the thirteen members were asked to wait in the changing/waiting room as the venue's staff figured out the issues preventing them from continuing the show as usual.
sitting between seokmin and seungkwan, soonyoung decided this might be the best time to take some pictures, considering that he was dressed up and had his hair and makeup all done. better now than after performing, when he would be all sweaty and disheveled, right? he, however, did not have his usual instagram phone on him, so he opted to use his personal one for the photos, reasoning that he could just send them to himself later.
he signaled for dokyeom's help, handing him his phone and finding a place to do his classic leaned back, hand in pocket pose, showing off his pretty outfit. after a few shots, both members sat back down and soonyoung looked at the photos, wondering which ones carats would like best. as he swiped through the dozens of new shots, he leaned back and allowed seungkwan and dokyeom to look at the images and even comment on which were best.
having completely forgotten that this was his personal phone, hoshi made the grave mistake of swiping one too many times, landing himself on a pretty picture you had just sent him the previous night. if it had been a regular picture, it wouldve simply earned an 'aw' from seungkwan and dokyeom, and maybe even an 'aigoo' from jeoghan who was now standing behind the couch looking over his shoulder. this picture, however, was not your average picture. this image showcased you laying on your side, boobs pressed together under the thin sheer fabric of baby blue lingerie that gave the perfect view of your nipples through the fabric.
okay, it couldve been worse. it couldve been an entirely nude pic, but despite the level of explicitness of the picture, soonyoung immediately panicked. in a frantic state, he attempted to exit out of the image, only to accidentally open up the photos app, where the miniatures of the many other nudes you had sent him that night stared back at him and his group mates. as a last desperate resort, soonyoung decided to just switch his phone off and flip it around just for good measure.
across the room, mingyu stared in curiosity at the scene, seeing four of his group mates with widened eyes. jeonghan held a shocked, but satisfied smirk, while seungkwan looked as scandalized as ever. hoshi and dokyeom shared a similar pale look as if theyd seen a ghost, making mingyu wonder what theyd just seen.
hoshi had never felt more flustered in his life (and that was saying something), fearing the stern scolding he would receive from seungcheol and from you for being careless enough to use his personal phone and accidentally exposing his girlfriend to his unsuspecting members.
wonwoo -
wonwoo always saw chan as a little brother. someone who could do no wrong in his eyes. which is why he trusted him with basically everything. he mightve been a few years younger, but wonwoo always thought of him as responsible and respected him as much as he would someone his age, trusting him with his belongings, even.
having a short dance break together in the most recent comeback, chan and wonwoo decided to arrive to practice earlier in order to get in tune with each other and not take up any designated rehearsal time for the group as a whole. a little over an hour had already gone by, leaving both members sweaty and in need of a break. while wonwoo dabbed away his sweat, chan sat down for a bit, going on his phone. that was when wonwoo's phone started to chime, short breaks between each vibration of the phone, signaling multiple messages.
"check that for me, will you?", said wonwoo absentmindedly, walking in the other direction to retrieve a water bottle from nearby.
chan followed his senior's orders without thinking too much of it, unlocking his phone and swiping up. he assumed itd be one of the other members or maybe wonwoo's dad checking in. what he didnt expect, however, was a row of messages from wonwoo's girlfriend, with a pretty ... explicit picture attached to it.
nonuuuu
you left without saying goodbye :((
shouldve waken me up, i couldve given u a little something ;)
*two picture attachments*
im aching for u :((( gonna miss u all day now :c'
the pictures detailed almost the entirety of your naked body, pretty tits being groped by your hands while you wore soft pink (was that silk ..?) panties. despite not wanting to disrespect wonwoo or his girlfriend, chan gulped, unable to take his eyes away from the messages.
".. chan? chan!"
chan's attention finally diverted from the small screen in his hands.
"who is it?"
"oh, i ... its just. uh, its your girlfriend," he stutters, extending wonwoo's phone out to him, fearing for his reaction.
wonwoo finally took a look at his messages, eyes widening, instantly putting it away as if it had burned him, "oh. just .. ignore that. it's not .. uhh, okay, anyways. we should get back to practicing," wonwoo tried to salvage the awkward situation without further embarrassing chan or his girlfriend or himself.
the two stood there awkwardly trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and the arousal you had inadvertently caused the two of them), thanking god at the timing of the rest of the members who were now finally walking in to join them.
"what's up," said an unsuspecting mingyu as he walked towards them, ready to rehearse.
jihoon -
soonyoung had the tendency of dropping by jihoon's studio unannounced pretty often. many of those times would be while jihoon himself was away. why jihoon gave hoshi the passcode to his studio, he didnt know, but it was now all said and done and there wasnt much he could do about it anymore. dont get him wrong, he enjoyed having his friend visit, but he also desired some alone time while working.
today was one of the many instances in which jihoon had to step out, leaving his studio locked, not thinking anyone would walk in in his absence. soonyoung, however, had different plans. as per usual, whenever the day seemed to slow down for him, soonyoung would waltz into woozi's universe factory and hang out while he watched him work, with today being one of those days.
he didnt pay much mind to jihoon's absence as he laid back on the couch and went on his phone while waiting for his friend's return. he stayed like this for a few minutes until he heard the chime of jihoon's phone on his desk. he ignored it, not being too interested by it. then the chime repeated. once. twice. three times. four, five, over the next few minutes. okay, now that caught his attention. being so close to jihoon, soonyoung didnt consider this snooping, reasoning that this was his best friend. what could there possibly be on his phone that he couldnt check simply out of sheer curiosity? thats when he made his first mistake.
he picked up his phone, tapping in jihoon's password and swiped up on the messages without thinking much of it. that's when he made his second mistake. his eyes widened like saucers at the messages in front of him, even more so at the image attached to it. what he was now seeing was a picture of you, shirtless and pushing your tits up while making a kissy face at the camera.
jihoonieeee
are u still at the studio ??'
*image attachment*
dont u wanna come see me? ill make it worth ur while <3'
hoshi made his third mistake of the day when he unconsciously decided to keep his eyes glued to the phone, failing to notice the arrival of his friend, who immediately took note of his phone in the hands of someone who wasnt its owner.
"soonyoung what the hell are you- HUH?", jihoon didnt even have a chance to finish his sentence before interrupting himself upon taking a look at what seemingly had his senior in a trance. "GIVE ME THAT! what are you doing?! get out!" he hissed as he physically pushed his friend out of the room, locking it as he muttered in annoyance at his nosy friend.
still in a trance, hoshi found himself dumbfounded, standing alone in the hallway, now having a totally different perception of jihoon's pretty girlfriend.
a/n: not proofread!! will get to 97 and maknae line soon i promise T-T
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misseviehyde · 2 months
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THE PASSENGER
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Nervously biting her lip, Donna looked around the fetish store she had accidentally wandered into and desperately looked for the exit.
She didn't know what had drawn her into Evie's Emporium in the first place, but now she was inside she could see it wasn't her kind of shop at all. The small and mousy young woman blushed bright red as she walked past a rack of sex toys. She was famously insecure and easily embarrassed, so this shop was her idea of Hell.
She needed a dress to wear tonight for dinner with her boyfriends boss, but none of the tight latex and fetish outfits she could see hanging from racks would do. Everything in here looked like something some sort of super confident slut might wear, not her style at all.
Donna was tiny, flatchested and average looking. She had a very submissive personality - in fact her friends all mocked her for being such a pushover. They called her 'The Passenger' because she'd pretty much just go along with what anyone else wanted.
As she headed towards the exit she passed a rack with a naughty pink latex dress hanging from it. It was clearly designed for a tall, busty, dominating sort of woman. Donna's hands made contact with the material as she passed.
*ZAP*
Donna stopped. She urged her body to move, to keep walking, but to her horror it didn't seem to be responding to her commands. Instead her body was now moving by itself, like someone else was in control.
She felt herself pick up the latex dress and her body language instantly change. Her back straightened, her stride became more confident and unabashed. She felt herself walk over to the counter and buy the latex dress from the smirking blonde woman on the counter.
"You can get changed in the back if you want babe."
Donna walked to the dressing room at the back of the store. Keeping one hand on the dress, she struggled out of her clothing - even stripping off her underwear - then she began to clamber into the tight, stretchy pink latex.
"Ohhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she heard herself moan as her body throbbed with erotic energy. Donna's flat chest itched as she yanked the straps of the dress over her shoulders.
"Mmmmmmmh, bigger... yesssss, make them bigger," she heard herself say as her chest exploded with pleasure. With a delicious sensation of power and confidence, Donna felt her breasts grow. They swelled up, big firm and round on her chest - growing from A cups to DD's in a matter of seconds.
Her pale skin tanned to a healthy rosy glow and with a stretching sucking sound, the latex dress tightened deliciously around her body as her flat ass pushed out into a big round booty and she grew nearly six inches in height.
She was now an Amazoness and she looked almost unrecognisible as she shook her normally tightly bound hair loose and it fell into elegantly styled mane all the way down her back.
"Mmmmh, that's SO much better. I feel like a brand, new, bitch..."
Donna adjusted her dress, enjoying her new tits yet still not in control of her body. She was just a passenger in her own head. She felt herself apply more makeup and saw she now had long sexy pink acrylic nails the same colour as her dress. Her sensible flat shoes had transformed into six inch pink heels and with a clop, she turned on her stiletto's and easily walked out of the store with a strut.
****
Donna desperately tried to fight for control of her body, but it simply wouldn't obey her. Somehow, touching the dress had made her lose control to some alternative version of herself.
In her car, Donna hiked up her dress. She wasn't surprised to see her pussy was now completely waxed smooth and a pink princess butt plug the same colour as her dress now twinkled in her perfect ass.
"Fuck yessss," she hissed rubbing her clit and touching her breasts as she began to masturbate in the car-park. Reaching into her hand-bag, Donna found a small bullet vibrator and switching it to maximum, slid it into her pussy.
Then, with a wicked smile she pulled her dress down and already cumming, pushed the accelerator down and drove away.
In her own mind Donna screamed and drooled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body and she orgasmed harder than she had in years...
***
The restaurant was busy and all eyes were magnetically drawn to Donna as she strode through to the table. She had bought a fur coat to wear over her sexy dress and expensive gold and diamond jewellery now hung round her pretty neck and on her slender wrists.
She looked amazing and her boyfriend George's mouth dropped open as his boss Damien stood up with a grin and kissed her hand.
"George, you never told me your girlfriend was so beautiful. She's... not... how you described her."
"D...Donna... h... how?" stammered George.
Ignoring him, Donna felt her body sit at the table and lean forward so her massive breasts were now prominently displayed. "I'd like Champagne to begin with baby, then I think the Lobster."
"B...but babe, they're the most expensive things on the menu."
"Exactly," purred Donna as she leant forward to give Damian a better view of her tits.
This was going to be fun.
***
The ladies bathroom was quiet except for the sucking sound coming from the stalls.
Damian groaned as Donna knelt before him, his big dick in her mouth. She sucked and slurped, her head moving back and forth as she used her slutty hands to massage his balls and the shaft of his cock.
In her head Donna felt shame, but also excitement. She should be appalled at betraying her lovely boyfriend, yet somehow even as a passenger she was loving every minute of this. Cucking her boyfriend was kind of hot, especially now she was such a hot bitch.
"Ohhhh fuck, George is gonna realise what we're up to if we're gone much longer..." gasped Damian.
"Mmmmh, fuck that loser," giggled Donna as she looked up at her new lover with glee. "He doesn't deserve me anyway. Let's sneak out of the back and go to a hotel. I wanna see what this cock can really do..."
Damian grinned and helped her up. "Fuck yessss."
***
Switching off her phone to ignore the increasingly desperate calls from George, Donna tossed it onto the floor and resumed her sucking.
Damian lay on the hotel bed, his huge cock now fully engorged as she sucked and slurped the length. Donna could feel her body moving by itself, she had never been this confident at sex, but now she was a Goddess.
"Are you ready baby?" she purred stradling him. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her massive tits and hiked up so her tight pussy was visible. Hovering over Damian's cock, she slowly lowered herself down and used her hands to guide Damian's big cock inside herself.
"FUCKKKKKK," she moaned happily. "You're so much bigger than that loser."
Grinding her hips and moaning, her big tits bouncing like a pornstar - Donna began to ride her lover. She had never felt so alive...
***
Donna opened her eyes and groaned. She lifted a hand to her face and then gasped. Her hand... it was obeying her.
Leaping to her feet, she looked around. She was in a hotel room. In the bed next to her lay Damian snoring and exhausted. The pink latex dress lay discarded on the floor. Her last memories had been of Damian tearing it off her body as he urgently thrust inside her and they both climaxed and passed out.
She looked down. Tiny tits, pale skin, normal body.
Oh God - what had she done?
Trembling she walked to the mirror and examined herself. No - she was definitely back to normal. The dress, it had turned her into a monster. A passenger in her own head. She had done such evil, slutty, bitchy things.
Mmmmmh and it had felt so fucking good.
Donna felt weak and unconfident. She was in control of her body again, but she realised how disapointing that was. She had enjoyed being strong, dominant and confident. She had enjoyed looking out through her own eyes whilst a more confident version of herself was in control.
She looked over at Damian. George was going to kill her. Their relationship was probably over. How was she going to handle this? She didn't know how.
Her eyes fell onto the pink dress.
Her pink dress...
***
Striding out of the hotel, an uncaring bitchy look on her face - Donna finished tying her sexy hair into a tight ponytail as she smoothed down her latex dress and revelled in the feeling of her powerful busty body.
Behind her eyes, Donna felt so happy. Her body knew exactly what it wanted and what to do. She would never need to think again, only enjoy the sensations of being a dominant bitch.
She was just the Passenger now and she fucking loved it.
THE END
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strawberriianime · 10 months
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those eyes
♡ Douma x innocent angel!reader
♡ cw: descriptions of sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, Douma being a complete liar, dominant Douma, Douma being a JERK, creampies? creampies, slight degradation & humiliation, loss of virginity, basically sexxxx.
♡ Douma is known for being cunning, so no figure he was able to fool you~
Humming softly you cleaned the delicate vases in the cool spring water allowing all sprinkles of dirt to get off of the vase. Your thin white dress was floating slightly in the water not bothering you the slightest. You would come down to this spring every now and then to wash different things, a way of blessing an item. Being an angel who had just recently arrived on earth you were getting used to the whole angel thing, you didn’t have much to do just visit small communities and offer small blessings. Blending in was easy, you had the appearance of a normal human your wings only being out when necessary since being here you haven’t run into any problems. Until.
Shaking the access water from the vase, you began making your way out of the water dressed, completely clinging to your body and showing off your lovely figure. Nipples poked through the long sheer gown, showing off the hue of the nubs. 
“My my my, a woman shouldn’t be out here all alone you know” You turned your head left and right looking for the mysterious person who spoke suddenly. Facing back forward you were met with a pair of rainbow-colored eyes. You jumped slightly causing you to fall into the spring and drop the vase you were blessing causing it to break. 
“Oh no you’ve fallen in, my deepest apologies. Please take my hand and allow me to help you out.” He smiled sticking his hand out to you. You took his hand as he helped you up and brought you out of the water. 
“What might you have been up to? Out here all alone, how dangerous.” He kept that smile on his face, something about him was hypnotizing it was like his eyes put you in a trance. 
“I was simply cleaning some belongings, I come quite often I was doing fine. Thank you for being concerned sir.” you smiled at him shaking the access water off of you.
“Oh no problem at all, a beauty like you must be protected you never know what could be lurking in the shadows out here ready to gobble your up.” His head tilted slightly to the side. Perhaps he was right, you know demons are real and they like to prey on the innocent. So it could be quite dangerous for you, you’ve only spent a total of 8 days on Earth and all has been swell so far. 
“Perhaps you’re right, it is best that I do get going thank you for helping me.” you began walking away grabbing the one other vase that had not been broken.
“Ah, I can’t let you go just yet it is my fault that your other vase broke. It is only right if I replaced it. I have a dear friend who makes the loveliest vases you would just adore. So please allow me to replace it?” he placed his hands together almost begging you to come with him.
As an angel, giving the man a chance would be your moral duty. “Sure, however, I am soaking wet.” you sighed referring to the soaked sheer dress you were still wearing. 
“Here” he wrapped an overshirt over your body, taking your hand. “Let us be on the way, I stay not too far from here” he began walking taking you with him. It took quite literally no time to get to his “home” it was more like a temple. Quite off that you did not see this any other time you wandered these woods, possibly you’ve missed some areas.
He pushed open a set of cold stone doors, the room decorated with nothing but shades of red and hints of black. The room was cold, not your average cold but below-freezing cold and you wearing wet clothing which made it no better. Your nipples began hardening making you cross your arms along your chest attempting to shield them from the male in the room with you. 
“My would you like to shed your wet clothing? You would only get sick wearing such clothing at this temperature. I will go get you a towel, you may remove your clothing.” he hummed slightly making his way from the bedroom area. You began removing the overshirt from your body, laying it on a nearby rack. Peeling off the wet dress, you were left in your bare state. You had really no reason to wear any garments under your clothing, although you didn’t own any anyways. Jumping slightly, you felt a cloth being brushed along your skin. 
“Shh it’s just me dear.” the familiar voice ranged out. He ran the cloth along your back, your arms, and slowly down your legs. It was almost embarrassing being exposed so freely to a man you hardly know but there was something so charming about him.
“No need to be so shy, I'm simply aiding you as it was my fault you fell in anyway.” he hummed. He made his way to the front of your body brushing the towel over your breast and making a circular motion with the cloth.
“Hm, it would be better if you at on the bed. I can dress you better that way” It was as if your body moved on its own causing your bottom to make a connection with the bed. He took the towel and began drying your left foot making way up your leg. Switching to your other foot, he began drying up your leg making his way up to your thighs. Taking the cloth he began drying your thighs, ensuring to absorb any moisture from the spring. 
“Spread your legs,” he stated as if that was a normal thing to say to any woman. 
“Uh, I-” Your face flushed to a shade of strawberry red.
“I’m just drying you off any I can’t dry you properly when you’re clamping your legs together locking their moisture in,” he states hands finding themselves on your plush thighs. Although it did not matter considering the strong grip he had on your thighs, you cracked your legs open slightly only for him to spread them wide open. Taking the cloth once more, he began wiping at the inner parts of your thighs getting rid of the last bit of spring water. He dropped the cloth to the floor, allowing his ice-cold hands to dance along your body. He ran a finger up your body, stopping right at your chin.
“You just smell of innocence, never been touched by a man or woman if you’re into that. The way you glide through the water of the spring just begging to be eaten up.” your face twisted up in confusion, what was he getting at?
“As I was drying you, you don’t think I noticed the way you tensed up or the way you clamped your legs together as if begging for me to touch you more?” he brought his face close to yours those rainbow eyes glowing even in a room with little to no light. 
“Sir I must not do this, it isn’t right and I must remain pure.” you turned your head away from him.
“You will still be pure, just do whatever your heart desires~” his cold tongue licked along the side of your neck making you squeal. He lapped at your neck licking from the bottom all the way to the tip of your chin. You felt him push your body back slightly, your back coming in contact with the cool sheets. His large body towered over yours with ease. He licked at your neck again, this time trailing down making way from your shoulders to your right nipple. He licked ever so lightly at the bud that had been hardened by the temperature causing your to squirm under his body. He took his time with your nipple, sucking at the bud getting it nice and wet, rolling it along his tongue. He brought one of his fingers up your leg, dancing its way up to your warm entrance. You’ve never been touched by anyone like this before, it was a new feeling of complete bliss. Your body felt as if it had electricity flowing through it. His finger poked at your entrance, swiping slightly to remove the stickiness of your juices that held your folds together. Stroking at your entrance was enough to get your hips rolling. Just as he switched from your right nipple to your left, you felt him insert one of his cold fingers inside your warmth. He moved the solo finger slowly, allowing you to adjust to his finger. The feeling of his finger inside you and him toying with your nipple was almost enough to send you over the edge.
He released your nipple from his mouth, a thin trail of saliva bridging between the two. Your body tensed up as you felt him slide down to your lower half, cool breath tickling at your entrance. Taking both of his hands, he pushed your thighs apart spreading them to the widest of their ability. You felt his tongue lick with the perfect amount of pressure at your clit causing you to let out an erotic moan. You heard him chuckle slightly before he dove into your cunt licking sloppily while sucking harshly at the right areas. He sucked at your clit rolling the nub along his tongue, cool breath mixed with your warm heat causing your back to arch off of the bed. He gripped at your thighs, cuffing them into his hands holding you in place as he lapped at your cunt as if it was his last meal on earth. Your hands soon found their way to his golden hair, gripping the hair in your fist tight but not tight enough that it’ll cause pain. As if it was not enough already, you felt him release one of your thighs, taking two of his fingers and pushing them into your entrance. You groaned feeling the pressure of his fingers mixed with the feeling of him eating at your heat. Before you know it, he flipped you over so you were now on all fours and he was laying flat on his back. Your body hovered over his as he locked his hands into your thighs once more, pushing your heat down onto his face and allowing him to smother himself with your juices. The feeling was too much as your legs began shaking, but that did not stop his pace at all. With one final suck at your clit your body trembled to feel a euphoric feeling flood over your body. 
You began catching your breath, chest heaving with each breath. You have never experienced this feeling, not once in 100 years. Was this wrong? Dragging you out of your thoughts you felt something fairly large Without any warning, you felt your inside being stretched to the fullest. The feeling was a mix of pain and pleasure and at the moment you were definitely feeling more pain. 
“Please Sir I can’t take it.” your face scrunched up as the burn started to slowly fade.
“Oh but you can, and you will” he smiled showing those rainbow eyes. Looking into them almost had you in a trance, you didn’t realize that he began moving as you stared so deeply into his eyes. It wasn’t until a sharp snap of his hip that brought you to your sense. With every stroke he was slow but sharp, letting you feel every inch that he had to offer.  Taking your hands and pinning them above your head, he began adjusting the pace. Things had gone from slow and sharp to a new pace of fast and rough. Each thrust was jagged, snapping so harshly into you as if he wanted to rip you in half. Your breast bounced at each thrust, the bed creaked loudly through the room, and the only sound left would be the sound of your squelching cunt that filled the room with its wetness.
“Fuck, you’re so tight I could barely fit still.”
“Gonna stretch you out nice and good just for me.”
“My hell you’re so fucking wet’“
You whined as his fast rough pace began puncturing your insides, you could feel every inch of him within the deepest parts of your stomach. Your cunt swallowed him whole, as it had been stretched as if it had been perfectly molded to his shape. He removed himself from you, once more finding yourself being flipped back onto all fours. He pushed you back down creating the perfect arch for him, allowing himself to push deeply back into you, The burning was still there as his raw flesh met your soft spongy walls. He dug himself deep into you, the deepest you’ve felt him go so far. He lowered his body, his chest resting on your back as he wrapped his hands around your lower waist slamming himself deep into you. You gripped the sheets under you, as a new wave of please came over your body.
“Sir please” you called out eyes shut tight body barely can hold on much longer. He licked at your ear, whispering a bunch of sweet nothings. 
“Who would’ve ever thought that fucking an angel would be this easy? Oh, I have to tell the other uppermoons.” he chuckled body still pressed deep into yours. Uppermoons? What..
“Demons and angels aren’t supposed to be together but I think we fight together perfectly like two missing puzzle pieces.” Demon...? He was a demon?
“Oh don’t tell me you really couldn’t tell. How sad, the big scary demon just devoured the poor innocent angel. What are the odds you let a demon not only fuck you but take your first time?” he laughed not missing a single thrust. 
“Don’t tell me you like that, your clamping down on me mighty tight” Your face flushed with shock so many emotions ran through your head. 
“Don’t worry, your Lord Douma will take good care of you.”  he snapped his hips sharply one last time enough to push you over the edge. You felt his own bodily fluid mix with yours, invading your intimate areas. He pulled himself out of you, laying your body down softly. He propped himself up staring at you with those rainbow eyes once more, this time a kanji symbol appearing in them. How can you be so dense, sadly to say you kinda liked it?
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it-happened-one-fic · 1 month
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Congrats on your milestone! I'll put in a request. I chose Twisted Wonderland, a courtly drama and a tome falling apart to reveal its yellowing pages.
Good luck on your writing and I'll see you at your next milestone!
Thank you so much for the congratulations! I was so excited to see your name pop up in my inbox! It’s always so lovely to see anything about you in my notifications and to read your comments. I ended up writing this fic while listening to “For the Love of a Princess” from the Braveheart OST and, fair warning, I played a bit with accents which might be one of the reasons this fic ended up quite so long. I hope you enjoy your tale!
600 Followers Event!
Underneath the Highland Moon - Silver
Type: Gender Neutral reader/ Fluff/ romance implied/ 600 follower event/ courtly drama & A tome whose binding is slowly unraveling as the cover attempts to fall away and reveal the yellowed pages beyond/ isekai
Word Count: 3419
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I was barely able to react as the light flashed up brilliantly from all around. Blinding me as I dropped the weighty book from my hands in favor of shielding my eyes.
Distantly, I remembered Trein saying something about how books could be enchanted, and I almost cursed myself for being quite so foolish. To be fair, though, thus far all of the books I’d encountered in Twisted Wonderland had just been normal books.
But if the flash of light hadn’t been enough evidence of the less than average nature of this book, then the sinking feeling followed by utter darkness was.
And when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in NRC’s library.
Instead, I was lying in a plush, four-poster bed that had curtains hanging all around it. And was utterly covered in thick quilts with spiraling celtic patterns.
I blinked, immediately frowning as I sat up, sending rich fabrics everywhere with my motions as I heard a woman’s voice speak from beyond the curtains in a thick, undoubtedly Scottish accent, “Ma liege?”
I reached over, pulling back a curtain, only to find myself peering out at a young woman who was quite obviously dressed as a maid, with her plain dark dress and white apron decorated lightly with pale green embroidery in the corners. 
I stared at her, my eyes widening as she smiled sweetly back at me, “Ah, good. Yer up. Today is th‘day th’knight sent by th’royal family is coming.”
“The knight?” I faintly echoed her words as my eyes darted around the lavishly decorated but wholly unfamiliar room.
But, somehow, in some way, I knew exactly where I was.
This was my room. But it was also the room of the oldest child of a noble family connected to an ancient clan. And that person’s memories were wholly unfamiliar, but also bouncing around in the back of my head like a poorly buffered last-episode recap.
“Aye, ye know, th’wan th’royal family ha’ sent to keep ye safe? Come noo, ye must finish waking up so we can get ye ready! Ye’ll want to look yer best with yer history wi’ him after all!”
I was tugged out of the massive bed, stumbling to my feet as the maid pulled me along and sat me down, chattering away all the while as if all was as it should be, “ ‘At Duke is also coming today. I bet e’ll be right surprised to see a knight here to keep ye safe! It’ll probably ruin whatever schemes he’s cooking up in ‘at nasty old head of his.”
Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place as I dimly recalled more of Trein’s words from class: “For a period, there was an entire genre of enchanted books that were particularly popular simply because they allowed readers to live out and experience stories in real time. The book would pull you and perhaps a companion, if they were close enough, into the story itself and assign roles.”
I all but grimaced as memories came flooding back of the ancient-looking, painfully large tome of a book whose binding had been slowly unraveling when  I’d picked it up simply to snicker at its title while also wondering how such a book had ended up in a school library of all places.
‘Underneath the Highland Moon.’ It had doubtlessly been a romance of the particularly tropey variety.
It made sense for it to be at the school if it were a magical book, though. It was probably something that had been purchased for some form of test or experiment.
But now, through pure chance, or perhaps bad luck, I’d found myself transported into yet another world. But this time it was one within a book where I was apparently filling the role of a landed noble whom the royal family wanted to keep safe for inexplicable reasons that probably had some form of plot relevance.
And, if I had to make a guess, this knight was probably supposed to be my character’s love interest. A thought that had me grimacing.
But I had greater concerns to deal with beyond the appearance of a love interest. Namely, how I was going to get out of this book.
I hadn’t questioned Professor Trein about the specifics of the enchanted books, but if I recalled correctly, there was something to do with the plot of the story. Like it had to be completed, interrupted, or something along those lines.
“Ye just aren’t yerself this morning. Are ye feeling weel?” I blinked, snapping myself back into the moment as I glanced at the maid, who was eyeing me worriedly.
Now that I really looked at her, she might actually be the main character of this story. She certainly could fit the part with her sweet face, but with the amount of backstory that was flitting around in my mind and clogging my thoughts, the character I was subbing for had to be important.
Either way, though, I could tell the maid was genuinely worried, and if these character’s memories were anything to go by, we were close.
I shook my head, pasting on a reassuring smile, “I’m just distracted…. Why do you suppose the royal family has sent us a knight anyway? I would think they would want to keep all of their people closer than that…”
I trailed off, hoping to glean more information about the plot of the story I was in.
The maid smiled, almost sympathetically as she nodded, “Thought ‘at might be on yer mind.”
She sat down next to me, her hands taking one of mine into hers as she twisted to face me, “What with ye being the last member of yer clan and wan of the few nobles to hev come from a clan, Yer important to this country. I’ll bet that the royal family recognizes ‘at.”
I blinked at her words, that so perfectly matched my backstory information but also sounded disappointingly like the backstory of a main character.
Her gaze swiftly turned frigid though, and I felt myself tensing before she continued in a far colder tone than before, “But ‘at’s also why so many are after ye. For the power ye hold.”
She shook her head before straightening in a huff, “Lek ‘at Duke. But he won’t be able to do anything. No’ with ye having a knight of yer very own.”
Her tone was so final that I barely had any words. Especially not after the lengthy exposition she’d just given me about my entire situation in this book.
And I stayed silent for most of the rest of the time she bustled around, adjusting my clothes and cooing reassurances that all would be well now that the knight was coming and that I had absolutely nothing to worry about.
By the time I finally escaped what had felt like dressing room hell I was both up to date on my situation and exasperated with the plot of this book.
Evidently enough, I was supposed to be a shrinking violet who’d already been kidnapped once and held for ransom.
For reasons unknown, the royal family had, inexplicably, taken action and had been rescued before declaring that the situation was far-too risky to be left as it was and that they were going to send a knight to guard me.
Even as I went down the massive flight of stairs with my maid by my side she continued to coo over my apparent rescuer from that time, “I do hope this knight will be th’same wan who rescued ye. He was so... so…”
I smiled, cutting in before she could utter the word dreamy once more, “Yes, I also think it will be reassuring if it’s the same man.”
She giggled at my words, shaking her head and adjusting her plaid shawl in a manner that almost had me arching an eyebrow at her.
“Ye were quite taken wi’ him, weren’t ye? I dae no’ blame ye, o’ course. He did rescue ye after all,” She was all but beaming at me as I kept the same polite smile on my face.
Oh yes. This knight was definitely going to be the romantic lead of this plot. 
If I were lucky this wouldn’t end up with a love triangle situation. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that along with trying to figure out a way out of this book.
Especially considering my current run of getting out of worlds that I'd randomly been sent too.
Not that I could say that I regretted my time in Twisted Wonderland. I’d grown quite close to the people there. Like Silver, who’d been in the library with me when I’d been sent here.
Everything seemed to come screeching to a halt as I recalled the young man who’d fallen asleep after helping me carry books into the library. 
I’d been about to wake him to show him the book I’d found to see if he’d had any idea as to why such a book would be in the school library when I’d opened the tome and ended up here.
“Ma liege!” I blinked at my maid’s voice, briefly searching the room only to find that she’d moved on ahead of me to peer out the window.
Her eyes were bright as she pointed out the window, bouncing up and down on her toes in a way that had me frowning as I walked towards her.
“It’s him! It’s him! Th’knight who saved ye!” Her voice was pitched higher than it had been in excitement and I hummed. Leaning over to peer out the window and see who this love interest of mine was going to be only to go still. My eyes widening as I look at the knight who came riding up the rocky path on a magnificent, glossy black stead. A perfect opposite to his pale beauty.
I dashed to the side, my hands flying to the door handle as I yanked it open and I rushed out onto the porch right as he reigned the horse to stop.
I could hear my maid behind me shouting my name in surprise, but my eyes stayed on him as his gaze slowly lifted to meet mine.
“Silver,” I barely even whispered his name as I stared at him, neither of us moving as the wind blew. Causing leaves to dance through the air as it toyed with his hair.
And it really was a perfect scene from a historical romance and he dismounted and took only two steps towards me in utter silence before kneeling. One knee hitting the earth as he looked up at me, “I have come to guard and protect you, Y/n.”
I faltered before blinking myself to reality and nodding, “Please, get up. There’s no need for you to kneel like that.”
As I spoke I came off the porch, bending and taking his hands in mine before I straightened. Pulling him up with me and twisting to look back at my maid, “Could you prepare us something to drink?”
It was the first thing I could think of to ask her to do that would send her away and give me some time to confer with Silver.
If I was lucky he would know a way for us to get out of this book since the best I’d come up with so far was to finish the story, which would be difficult considering I had no idea what the plot might be.
Stories like this could get tangled up in their own drama so quickly that it was difficult to predict where this tale might lead us if we were going to have to follow it all the way to its end.
My maid curtseyed before zipping off into the house, and I could hear her giggling all the way. The sound of it making me sigh slightly as I turned to look back at Silver.
His horse was already being led off by a man whom I could only assume was a stablehand.
“Any idea what’s going on?” I questioned him, hopefully only to feel my hopes flag as he shook his head. Utterly calm despite the situation we were in.
“Only that we’re in an enchanted book,” He paused, tilting his head slightly, before he continued, “Do you know anything about the plot we’re in?”
I sighed, turning and heading back into my house, which I now noticed was quite large. In fact, it was probably better to say that I was living on an estate more than anything.
“My character is some sort of noble lady that your character apparently rescued by order of the royal family,” I started in a surprisingly weary tone, but it already felt like it had been a long day even though I’d only just woke up.
“Yes, you’d been kidnapped and were being held for ransom. My character saved yours and brought you back home,” Silver clarified, and I nodded. His story matched the backstory I had received upon waking almost perfectly.
I could only assume he’d also received a backstory for his character.
“And now the royal family has sent you to guard me because of something to do with my character being the ‘last member of my clan and one of the few nobles to have come from a clan.’” I quoted my maid directly as I slipped into what was the sitting room.
“You’re also distantly related to the royal family, which means a lot of people are after you for your position, power that comes from your family line, and relation to the royals,” Silver again clarified, but this time his words had me turning to look at him with a slight frown.
So my character was related to the royals? That was something I hadn’t realized, but it was also something that rang true with my character’s backstory that seemed to be continually updating itself in my head.
I sat down quietly and watched as he did the same across from me before I continued, “Just based on our current backstories and the title of this book, I suspect this is a dramatic romance. Probably of the variety that deals with court drama since I’m related to the royal family.”
Silver nodded, his gaze turning thoughtful as he blinked, his eyes growing steadily more hazy in a way that told me he was about to drift off.
“Do you know anything else about your character?” I questioned him again, my words snapping him back awake and causing him to nod as he focused.
“Yes, I volunteered to come and protect you on the basis of having already rescued you once,” I felt my eyebrows lift at his words and met his gaze directly.
“If this is a romance, then do you think you’re….” 
I trailed off, not quite able to finish only for him to finish for me with a nod of his head, “The love interest? If Father’s stories are anything to go by, then yes.”
I wrinkled my nose slightly and looked at him in confusion, “Your father reads romance novels?”
Silver shrugged slightly but remained silent, and mere moments later, my maid entered the space with tea.
Her gaze flickered between me and Silver, and she barely hid her smile as she bustled about, already beginning to question Silver as she looked towards him, “Do ye think ye’ll be able to-”
She was cut off by Silver darting across the room and tackling me to the side right as the window broke, causing my maid to shriek as I grabbed a hold of Silver in alarm and a startled sound squeaked out of me.
I stared in alarm over his shoulder as he slowly leaned back to glare out the window, but my eyes were on the arrow sticking out of the couch cushion where I’d just been sitting.
“Ma liege, are ye alright?!” I continued to stare wide-eyed at the arrow as my maid rushed to my side, grasping my arm before she leaned over before hugging me tightly. 
Instinctively, my arms curled around her, almost as if to reassure myself as I dragged my stare away from the arrow.
But in no way had I been prepared for such an attack. At the very least, I hadn’t been expecting for this book to be that sort of drama.
After another brief moment, Silver turned and yanked the arrow harshly out of the seat and frowned at it before his gaze lifted to meet mine.
Evidently, this story was going to be a little bit more action-packed than I’d initially expected.
Despite her genuine sweetness, it was honestly a relief when my maid finally left us once more after we all relocated to another room. This time one with no windows.
I glanced over at where Silver stood by the doorway with his arms crossed. Almost like he was ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.
And I couldn’t blame him; after all, I was still startled by what had just happened, though a numbness had now set in that kept me from panicking.
I started in a quiet voice, “The only two things I can figure out to get us out of this book are to either finish the story or to run its plot so off the rails that the book kicks us out.”
Silver nodded, his gaze shifting as he obviously considered my words and met my gaze, “Which option do you think is better?”
I shifted, leaning against the table in front of me as I frowned thoughtfully, “Finishing the plot could be risky if there are more action scenes like what just happened, plus we don’t know where the story is going….”
I trailed off, glancing his way and setting back in my chair as I started to nervously toy with my fingers, “Throwing the story of its rails might be a bit easier…. Especially if this is a romantic courtly drama.”
He nodded, “What do you want to do?”
I faltered slightly when he put the decision in my hands, but then I straightened. Steeling myself even as I made my decision, “If we shove our two characters into a relationship earlier than expected, then that will probably do.”
I stood, glancing at him and waiting for a sign of refusal, but he didn’t move. His expression was as stoic as ever, and I inhaled and called for my maid.
She came rushing in hurriedly, her face slightly flushed as she looked at me half-expectantly and half-worriedly. I couldn’t blame her, though; there had just been an attempt on my life.
My gaze flitted over to Silver as I balked, wondering exactly how he’d react but suspecting this would be the best and easiest way to derail the plot.
I squared my shoulders and looked back at my maid, “Please send out letters announcing my wedding to everyone of any importance.”
She stared at me like I’d lost my mind, looking around in an obviously lost fashion, as I did my very best not to look at Silver even as I felt myself warming from embarrassment.
“Yer wedding, ma liege?” She even sounded lost when she spoke, but I nodded firmly. Praying this would work and not land me in an even more awkward situation than filling the role of an utterly foreign character.
I couldn’t help but let my gaze flicker over to Silver in an apologetic fashion, and I could see in his eyes that he already knew where I was taking this as he straightened right as I spoke, “Yes. My wedding to Sir Silver.”
I’d barely even finished speaking before light flashed forth, utterly blinding me and blotting out the entire room before everything went black.
I opened my eyes hazily to find myself sprawled on the floor of the NRC library with a book on my lap.
Silver was sitting up from where he’d been at a table, his gaze resting weightily on me in a way that had me looking down at the book and away from him to avoid any further embarrassment.
And there it was, resting as innocently as could be on my lap, “Underneath the Highland Moon.”
And me and Silver hadn’t even made it to the moonlight hours before I was declaring our wedding.
I could only hope that I would make it through the rest of the day without dying from sheer embarrassment.
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yetanothergreyjedi · 1 year
Text
Ghosts of Our Pasts: 8
DP x DC Crossover
Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU
Masterpost Previous Next
Ao3
Part 8
"I wasn't sure what colors were still free,"
"Tt, It is ridiculous." Damian needed to stop saying things on impulse. Even if the oversized construction-orange hoodie jacket was a monstity, everything he said sounded cruel. Everything was cruel, he was aware he was not a pleasant person. It had never seemed like a problem before.
But his brother took it in stride, just like all his brothers did. Danny grinned, "Exactly!"
"It will draw attention," Father warned, but in the resigned way most often heard when discussing Grayson's early decisions as Robin.
Danny shrugged, "I can handle that, but I'm not like, super attached to it though, if its a problem."
"It is not a problem. You're wearing pants."
"Oh?"
"Robin insisted."
"Oooohhh," Danny said, only... he was looking at Damian.
"Not me! That was Gra— the first Robin!"
"Are you sure, I remember a time when you and pants did not—"
"I am wearing pants!"
Dany made a show of considering this point before conceding. "You are wearing pants."
Damian did not grumble as he pulled a spare domino and Comm from his belt. He took a step forward to hand them off no too-quick movements, nothing that might be perceived as a threat. And Danny simply took the items, if his movements were equally choreographed he did not show it.
"Test, test?" The voice came clear through the comms. They ran the rest of the comm checks, everything came up clear.
Danny expectantly bounced on his feet, he was wearing worn sneakers not boots.
"This isn't a patrol." Father reminded them, then he looked to Danny "We may need to stop and handle something on the way. Don't feel obligated to join in."
"I haven't lost that—"
"I'm not discrediting your skills. Or saying you can't get involved. I'm asking you to take additional caution until we get you proper equipment."
There was a moment where Danny's mouth worked, the usual whiplash of being interrupted by someone who had accurately guessed your argument and addressed it before you finished the sentence. Then he responded, "Yeah, okay, makes sense."
A nod and then they were off. The route had been planned specifically so they wouldn't have to grapple until Danny had a proper harness. Damian didn't know exactly what Danny had said the night before that led to them leaping across rooftops, but he couldn't find himself suprised that Danny kept up with ease.
It was an inverse of a game they'd once played. Danny would run ahead to show the way, slowing so a younger Damian could learn the footing on his own. Only now it was Damian showing the path, and Danny attempting to reach the same place quicker or more efficiently. He melded into the shadows suprisingly well for someone dressed to meet OSHA safety standards.
As much as he had worried, this was a good idea.
---
This was a terrible idea. Danny reflected. He had no idea what was normal for an average human. He hadn’t stuffed himself so firmly into his flesh in ages, and trying to do that while leaping up buildings! Could normal humans jump this high? Should he be able to lift his weightlike this? Was the domino hiding the fact that his eyes were probably a fog light?!
His feet were too sure on uneven surfaces, his shoes were gripping far better than they should and he knew for a fact the shadows were clinging to him! He tried to tell Gotham to knock it off, but he couldn't do that without unfolding a bit and he was definitely gonna to do something inhuman if he did that!
Bio-dad was right behind him! He should've downplayed his skills more, should've just suggested they drive! But noooo, he'd wanted to run around Gotham's rooftops like a bat! He still wanted to, he just didn't know how to human!
It was so much easier back home, had he flown that last bit? Or had he caught a little gravity anomaly? Is he standing on a vertical surface as if it were the ground? Cool! Let's find the step that will let us do it too! Vanished from existence? Probably a portal, best avoid that area! Gotham was, while a bit more liminal than most places, was not going to hide his weirdness!
Crap, had he been breathing enough?
---
Neither of his children were out of breath. Bruce realized when he got to the top of the building. He was proud of them. But as they sprinted off across the next set of rooftops, he reflected that he was not as young as he used to be.
---
Danny stopped without warning. His shoes made the barest scrape on the ledge that alerted Damian to stop too. He was looking down towards an alley barely visible from their vantage point. Then Damian heard what Danny must have: a man's voice, demanding a purse.
Danny inclined his head, Damian nodded. As one they lept down.
He was a little insulted that the man noticed him first, instead of Danny who could only be more obvious if he was wearing reflectors. But he did notice Danny, and the crook for some reason decided Robin was the lesser threat.
Damian did not freeze up. But suprise made his actions waver, and it only took a second for the man to point his gun at his new target.
Less than a second to fire. Everyone was moving. The woman was running. The man was turning the gun Damian. Damian aimed his sword to disarm, because he had managed to retrain his instincts away from an automatic killing blow.
The gun toppled away. And before Damian could fear what the crook changing targets after firing might mean, Danny had the weapon pointed at the man.
The crook with a blade aimed at his throat and a gun pointed at his chest paled and raised his empty hands in surrender.
"Now what do we do?" Danny stage whispered to his brother.
-
-
-
Danny, realizing he can't suck the mugger into a soup thermos, and that human vigilanteism has so much more logistics to worry about:
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The orange jacket is absolutely a reference to Haiju's sequel Shadow of a Doubt. Both Phantom of Truth and its sequel were a major part of me deciding to get into this Phandom, as well as part of the reason I write nowadays. So please check it out if you aren't familiar.
It's also a family thing for Danny, if he can wear both his dad's colors and his bio-dads symbol, idea makes the core go brrrr
Next one will be short one, because I find it super easy to set up lines that I feel close out chapters really well. And I couldn't just put more words after that! But it's already written, and so's the chapter after that, so I'll probably post it soon
Tag list!
@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmello @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare
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Note
What kind of fashion exists in the world? And what kind of clothes do the main characters wear?
Hello,
I find myself with a rare day off from work so I will be trying to knock out a few asks!
Also thank you for the fun ask, I love having the chance to world build a bit more publicly. 😊💙
So the fashion of OMWAT is very 1890's, Edwardian sort of centered. The world is a mix of slight medieval elements with the beginnings of early modernization.
Fashion also very heavily depends on which country your from and what social class you are in.
I'll start by breaking down Castellion fashion between the social classes then by men and women differences. Then I'll do the same for Romandian fashion! The main characters will have a post following shortly after this one to describe how they dress.
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Castelliones
Most Castelliones go for very practical but moderately reserved sort of look, for women; the white flowy blouse with a high neck paired with long black skirts is the classic look for average city women.
The only huge difference is that clean, detailed lace is a sign of wealth in this classic look (and honestly in most other looks too, lace is a bigger deal to women in Castellio). This is also sort of a day-to-day sort of outfit and women will spin their own personal touches to it. Some, if they can afford it, will invest in having at least one simple white dress with some lace.
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If you're in Castellio and live in a more rural area then you might see a few more people dressed in a traditional/charro-ish style. The rural open areas of Castellio is full of ranches and it is simply more practical to not be wearing white (Practicality is also a very big deal in Castellio). Although the rural outskirts is where you will see more color in Castellion outfits, their outfits actually tend to be more vibrant than high class Castelliones.
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Now, high class Castellion women are a whole different story. The general rule of practicality for clothing is thrown out the window for their fashion sense. They dress with the idea to convey a 'refined elegance', they do this by wearing a lot of white for purity, but also to show off how clean they can keep their dress. This is where that fashion trend of lace comes in, the more beautiful handcrafted pure white lace or frills you have; the purer they think they look. They also sometimes wear more form fitting dresses, although it's a bit risky because that's usually a style for single high class women in Castellio. More drapey or loose clothes tend to be a sign of a married woman, but it's more of an unspoken rule that some people choose to ignore because it's a little outdated. Even by Castellion standards lol.
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Okay, now time for the men!
Average classed men wear simple and practical clothes, brown pants with plain white shirt is the standard look. Suspenders are a bigger deal though, they were introduced into Castellion fashion by Romandi culture back when young Castellion men were forced to work in Luogo Di Pace. Young Castelliones found them more interesting that the regular belts they had so they adopted the style into their culture as those men went back home at the end of their service time.
Castellio is also a pretty warm place but if they get cold they will wear layers.
Average Castellion men look like this:
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Rural men will look dress in proper rancher styles because it's practical. A lot of their clothes are hand me downs from their fathers and grandfathers, so they are more sentimental in that sense and take great care of their clothes. If it's cold? They throw on a hand woven poncho made by their wife, mom, or abuela. Also they are pretty stubborn on wearing belts rather than suspenders because they want to stick more to Castellion tradition rather than adopt anything Romandian.
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Upper class menswear is a little stuck in the mid 1800s style, it's a tad outdated with its frills and puffs but they still like them. Their outfits tend to be form-fitting and with toned down colors. Unlike the pictures however, they wear their pants all the way down to their ankles not to their knees.
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(^imagine this but new looking^)
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I ran out of images allowed in one post for the Romadians so I will make another post for them! 😭
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davidfarland · 1 year
Text
How to Write Bad Dialog
Writing bad dialog is almost an art form unto itself.
Recently I read a couple of stories where it felt as if the author was struggling to come up with bad dialog. So I thought I should give a few tips on how to do it properly.
The easiest way to write wretched dialog is to use dialog for the wrong things. In other words, when a scene calls for description, narration, transitions, introspection, characterization, or other things—simply do it all with dialog.
Bad Dialog in Place of Description
Let me give you an example. Our character, Joe, has just reached into the pocket of a dead man that he found washed up on a Florida beach. Now, the natural way to handle the scene would be to show the readers what Joe pulls from the dead man’s pocket. But instead you can do it in dialog, in this case, with another character, Ron:
Ron: Hey, what did you just find in that dead man’s pocket? Joe: Why, it looks like . . . gold pieces of eight, dated 1702!
Can you see how well that works? I mean, if you pulled a piece of ancient gold from a dead man’s pocket, you’d probably take a bit of time wondering what it was, studying it, and turning it over in your hand. But you can handle it faster if you simply have a character blurt a perfectly accurate description. So if you want to win awards for bad dialog, keep putting your descriptions into dialog!
Bad Dialog in Place of Transitions
Here’s how to write a terrible transition. We have just had two men meet, and one asked to meet in private. Let’s have Joe and Ron again.
Joe: Well, here we are in the Redwood National Forest. Sure is a foggy day, what with the wind coming in off the Pacific. What did you want to talk about, Ron, that made you drag me all the way out here, three miles into the trees? You afraid that our offices are being bugged or something?
In this case, the average author might start the scene with the two walking deep into a forest in the early dawn, smelling the fog off the sea, freezing from the cold. Personally, if I were Joe, I’d be a bit nervous, and I’d be wondering if Ron planned to murder me, but maybe that’s just me.
Bad Dialog in Place of Introspection
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One of my favorite misuses of dialog is the spoken dialog that should be internal. For example, let’s say that Joe goes to the funeral of Ron’s mother. He walks into the foyer and is approaching the deceased, with people both ahead and behind him. He sees the old crone in her casket, dressed nicely, and then whispers to himself, “I never did like the old bag, but she looks pretty hot today. . . .”
Now, most folks would think that Joe would have to be literally insane to say something like that in public. But as a master of bad dialog, you just might get away with it. After all, I think that by now you’ve established that Joe has diarrhea of the mouth and never can shut up, so maybe readers won’t notice that you’re trying to tell your story through dialog alone.
Bad Dialog in Place of Characterization
Then of course, you can always characterize people by having one character talk about another. For example, Joe might tell Ron, “You know, my daughter Kary is so introverted, I can’t understand why she would want to become President of the United States.”
“She is introverted,” Ron says, “but you know, she also wants to save the country from fracking, and I don’t think that she can come up with any other way to do it.”
That one always works.
Just remember, if you want to become a master of ridiculously bad dialog, the first rule is to use dialog for everything—for descriptions, for internal thoughts, for narrating your scenes, for transitions and deep characterization. Wretched dialog has a million uses!
Learn more at https://mystorydoctor.com/
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webxgal · 2 months
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[Ⅸ] probis pateo
i am open for honest people.
Junpei Iori comes downstairs to the sight of you kneeling on the cushion of the lounge sofa, digging between the notches with the desperation of a man starved. He won’t be too far off from his analogy, because like the average tech-dependant teen, you losing your charger is a nightmare scenario. You snap your head up instantly when you hear the sound of footsteps, and you don’t even bother greeting him before you shoot your question.
“I’m sorry—have you seen a charger anywhere?”
“Huh? Uh…” Junpei feels a little embarrassed about blue-screening, considering this is the first time you’ve talked to him and it’s only to inquire about your missing charger. “No. you can use mine though!”
He flashes you one of his signature grins, and he entertains himself with the idea that if he lets you borrow his you might be so grateful that you’ll let him take you out on a date. Though you weren’t the typical Japanese beauty, you weren’t hard on the eyes. It only gets better that you didn’t have as strong a personality as Kirijo-senpai or Yukari (one of the many incorrect assumptions he’s made about you). He never gave you much thought before, but with you now having joined SEES, this might be the universe hinting at him that this is his chance at scoring a girl.
Amidst his daydreaming, he doesn’t notice how you frown, disappointment evident in the curl of your lips. You hold up your phone and Junpei cannot stop his disbelief, blinking rapidly as if it’s somehow going to make your phone magically morph in front of him.
“Dude,” And all the charm and flirtatious compliments Junpei planned on unleashing on you flew down the drain. “You have the same model as my grandmother!”
You shrink in on yourself thanks to him bull-eyeing on a particular insecurity of yours, but your eyebrows come together in displeasure regardless. You’ve already begun sprouting defence for your phone that should have long since expired, but your lady luck comes in the form of a very agitated Yukari Takeba and amazing timing.
Junpei lurches forward at the open palm swing delivered to the back of his head, a loud call of “ow!” escaping him all the while. He frantically turns around to find Yukari, her face radiating annoyance and her hand still held up as if she were ready to go for seconds.
“Don’t be a jerk to her!” Junpei has a sharp retort sitting on his tongue, but she’s already moved her attention to you, a kind smile gracing her lips. Junpei wants to point out you look a little more terrified than grateful. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
You repeat the situation you were stuck in (albeit with a bit more of a stammer in your voice), and she hums thoughtfully.
“I think there is a store near the station that sells electronics. You could get a new charger from there…” She trails off as her attention is diverted by your phone clutched protectively in your hand. She holds herself back from wincing. “Even for older models, I guess.”
This is how you find yourself strolling through Iwatodai Strip Mall on a Sunday afternoon, discomfort itching at your skin at the prospect of walking around alone and without a camera to keep you entertained. You really should be more familiar with the area now. Still, you’ve spent the better half of last year simply walking around the streets without a destination in mind (and to spare yourself of spending your limited allowance on stuff you do not need). You wish Takeba had been more specific on the name of the shop, and as you desperately scan the signs framed outside storefronts you fail to pay attention to your immediate surroundings. You feel your shoulder briskly bump into another, causing you to stumble from the force. Without thinking twice about who is at fault, an instinctive apology has already left your lips.
“I’m sorry, are yo—” Your words die in your throat when you see the familiar blues that make up Arisato. He’s dressed rather fashionably, signature headphones hung snugly around his neck and hands shoved into the pockets of his peacoat. His eyes widen a crack once he notices it’s you, but he greets you with a nod regardless. You feel embarrassment kick in, wondering if you were perhaps cursed to have your every interaction with him be awkward and painstaking. You wonder if you should ask how he is, or what he’s doing here but before you can devise an adequate icebreaker, his focus has already diverted to the phone in your hand.
“Wow, that’s old,” His blunt comment really shouldn’t have irked you so much, but your precious flip phone has done nothing to deserve such snide from pedantic strangers. You are about to repeat your classic lines of excuses that you’ve been using on Yuko since your first year, but Arisato fishes for something from his pocket and holds it up to reveal his phone. “I’m only a year ahead of you.”
You aren’t sure why the revelation smacks you into bewildering silence, but soon you can’t help the laugh that leaves you.
“It’s such a good model,” You nod solemnly. “Great battery life. Others just don’t get.”
While he doesn’t exactly understand the entire context, given by the slight tilt of his head, he agrees anyway and then gestures vaguely to the stores. You are quick to catch on, explaining your unfortunate situation with your lost charger and Takeba’s suggestion of an electronics shop. He purses his lips, and you notice how his nose scrunches up when he’s thinking. It’s oddly cute.
“She probably means the net cafe. They sell some stuff there,” He answers shortly, and you could almost cry because Takeba, bless her soul, should be old enough to know the difference between a net cafe and an electronics store. You can’t stop your heavy, drawn-out sigh as you readjust the strap of your bag.
“Of course… I was walking around like an idiot for a shop that doesn’t even exist,” You offer Arisato an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the trouble, and thanks for redirecting me.”
You turn to leave briskly, eager to just grab your dumb charger and head home to crawl into your bed, but you’re interrupted by Arisato’s spontaneous offer.
“I’ll go with you,” You aren’t sure if he’s just trying to be nice, or if he actually has business there. You want to think it’s the latter, you don’t peg him as the type of person to bother himself unnecessarily with people. Perhaps you’ve misjudged him? You swallow down any curious questions and fall into step with him. He doesn’t attempt small talk, and you don’t feel comfortable enough to do so either. However, the quiet ambience isn’t awful, especially as it gives your mind the chance to rest after your day. The setting sun of Iwatodai paints the scenery in gold and orange. As your attention shifts to the celestial-like vistas of the sky, yearning for your camera to immortalise the moment, you miss the subtle glance Arisato throws to your twitching hands.
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You drop unceremoniously to the soft, welcomed sheets of your bed, your night-time shower soothing the aches and grime of your outing. Sleep encroaches the corner of your eyes and you know it’s about time you’ve greeted your dreamscape. However, your sights drift to your phone on your desk, your new charger plugged in. The battery should be fully charged by now. Who knows, maybe Yuko might’ve emailed you about your disappearance. Guilt washes over you at the idea you’ve probably left your only friend stranded amidst your several days of disappearance, and it doesn’t feel right to at least not respond to her even if you’ll see her again tomorrow. You paddle over to grab your device, flipping it open and waiting for the home screen to show. Your familiar wallpaper greets you, and you see a missed notification popup. Someone had called you. Your curiosity is piqued since Yuko always preferred emailing rather than calling. Perhaps she decided that it’s more meaningful to hear about your health from your own mouth. However, when you open up to the screen, it is not Yuko’s contact that greets you.
Don’t pick up: Missed call.
You feel dread pool in your stomach, and the urge to toss your phone out of rage is tempting. You know it isn’t possible to avoid your grandmother forever, no matter how much you like to ignore her emails and calls. She is simply another string you wish to cut from your past life in Sumaru City, but she still has guardianship over you until you are an adult. While spending the majority of the year within Tatsumi Port Island is a god-given blessing, nothing can change the fact you will eventually come home to the strong incense from your grandmother’s perfume and the sound of wind chimes she hangs out in the engawa.
You wonder if it’s worth ruining your night by calling her back and that’s when it dawns on you that this is her attempt to get hold of you because of your recent admission to the hospital. There was no way she could not have known about it, seeing as her name is in your emergency contacts. You cannot suppress your groan, history reciting that she is more inclined to berating you for your shortcomings, rather than express genuine concern for your wellbeing. Every time, a conversation like this ends with you exchanging equally bitter words before hanging up.
No, you were definitely in no mood for it.
You shove your phone into a random drawer, out of sight and out of mind before falling into the comfort of your messily arranged pillows and stuffed plushies. You squeeze your eyelids close, in hopes that sleep comes easy tonight. It doesn’t and tomorrow morning, Minato will watch with an unimpressed stare as you drop your head onto your classroom desk.
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tmntxthings · 1 year
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Σ一The Villainess, AKA: Cherrypie ‘A Cute-Meet’。・゜・
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summary: way before the night of the ball, Y/n and Raph met under pretty average circumstances, if average includes testing out a prototype for a cloaking brooch & a certain special ring getting stolen
author’s note: this is first prequel to the ongoing collab with <3 @marwhoa <3 we have been contemplating more prequels to continue adding depth to the story and ofc the almighty ‘part two’
warnings: rise!raph x villain!reader, cloaking brooch au, secret identities, cute meet, fluff
〔you’re here�� → next
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Through one of the very few quiet streets of the city, a hand emerges from the wall. Around it glitters magenta sparks, twinkling as an entire body follows through it. As dazzling an entrance as that was, this particular stranger happened to be dressed simply. A plain, ruffled, scarlet dress with a billowing skirt, accented by the pair of matching sandals wrapping up her calves, and tied together by a red clutch-purse as its accentuating piece. ‘Plain-Jane’ blinked away a crackle of red magic that was quite literally drawn into a ring upon her finger. Small bits of arcane energy surged in, bouncing erratically beneath the clear film protecting ruby crystals inside—all until the last twinkle blipped into the vacuum.
With a few calming rotations of the ring around her digit and a tucking of stray hairs behind her ear, the silent street was filled by soft tmps of the mysterious newcomer’s light footsteps. Perpendicular to the alley she has appeared through, a sneaky peek was given before she stepped out the next pin-drop quiet street with sidewalks that likely experienced so little foot traffic that they just might be clean enough to eat on.
Luckily, this lass wasn’t here to dine on the sidewalk picnic style—no, no, she was here for a special café that was quite literally the hidden gem beaten off the path. Had it not been for her frequenting, it likely wouldn’t be able to stay open. THAT is just how out of the way it was. Alright, that may have been blown out of proportion, but Y/n couldn’t care less as she and her temporarily-inflated self-importance pushed through the doors. Immediately she was woken up by the soothing hold of coffee grinds and baked goods. They cradled her, placing energizing kisses upon both cheeks.
A barista greeted the door’s chiming bell with a cheerful good morning and “Welcome to Sugar n’Spice!”
Any sleepiness brave enough to stay in your system from a bright and early rise wouldn’t stand a chance in this quaint, domestic place and its enlivening, ambrosial scents as you approached the counter. A glance was passed to the occupants of the room—a man who looked like he just got out of the gym, two sickly looking old ladies by the window, a lady bouncing a kid on her hip, and a man in a suit who’s foot tapped in a ‘watching the clock closely’ fashion.
Giving a curt “Excuse me,” as you navigated around the impatient man, you swallowed the bitterness upon your tongue for these humans who had the privilege to be here, topside, all day, any day. Hold back that discontent, for there is one important rule! A personally appointed exception, specially made for Sugar n’Spice: this place was divine enough to escape your witchy wrath. Show utmost respect by refraining from the usual ‘Hidden City Dweller seething at the humans.’ You could do that anywhere but here. This place was the holy land. The heavenly pinnacle of coffee—the SACRED LAN—
“Ma’am …?”
The barista tilted their head towards you playfully as that increasingly bizarre inner monologue settled abruptly. The distractions were waved off by a shaking of your noggin and an apologetic smile. “Sorry! Caught up with something—could I get the spiced Red Velvet latte? Please.”
Your lips shifted into a patient smile as the barista practically sighed in relief, hand on their chest as they muttered, “..much more normal than that last customer,” under their breath. You quirked an eyebrow at this but quickly rested your features. Humans complained too much for folks that—no! No, no, Y/n, quit it. The rule, remember the rule!
“Oh! Also, can I do the student discount? I’m an Eastlaird student.”
There was a missed opportunity as three of the occupants in the room perked up upon hearing that name; alas, your attention was instead fixated on your red clutch. Swiftly unlatching it and digging out two cards: one to show to the barista, your ID, and the second, your debit card. The animated worker leaned in, nodded at the little plastic, and took off some of the charge via the ‘Sugar n’Spice’s Nice Discount.’ With just one swipe of a debit card and a little wave after the machine’s little ‘doot!’ , you were all ready to go and await your beloved order. Your seeking eyes gazed all around the room in search of a table to claim until landing fondly upon a small two-seater. There, in the corner opposite of the old ladies and other waiting humans, was a perfectly empty space. Morning sun rays seemed to illuminate a chair for you to sit in, whispering a ‘come here to enjoy the one thing humans were able to do right, dear!’
After a moment to place your things upon the uninhabited table, you then went over and leaned against the counter near where orders came out and scrolled nonchalantly through your cellular. A scoff or two may have escaped at whatever human news headlines caught your eyes, at least up until your expression glimmered with a split-second of trepidation as an instinctual swipe did away with an unwanted notification.
NOTIFICATION
You have one new message.
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➤ MOTHER sent now
Where are you?
Not here, please, agonized the disguised witch silently. This was your one true escape—the one and only getaway from home that you had. Away from the mystic training, away from her, and into a place where you could be a normal... A normal what, human? Don’t even think about finishing that thought.
But, Sugar n’Spice cafe… this was one of the only human-made delights you had…
Surely that granted you one little ‘cross my heart’ secret kept, right?
Trapped in your chest was a deep sigh; you didn’t want to think about your mother. It felt like she had done nothing but push you to your limits as of lately. Constantly claiming that your magic “wasn’t performing at its peak.”, That you “should train more,” —no, even MORE than that, that you should only be training. The ever-lingering pressure to perform and perform well, lest you don’t come up to par with your mother’s expectations, it was starting to get ridiculous. “Seriously Y/n, are you even trying? If you don’t start taking training seriously—” You quickly shoved the memory away violently.
The little device was hastily shoved into your clutch, along with the unpleasant memory. Your eyes closed as the subconscious habit of twisting your ring came in full swing. You did it mostly when nervous, but every so often it would give off a calming effect—and per usual, it served to ground your racing heart in the here and now.
This place was your safe haven. You didn’t want to mar its charm by thinking of that hateful woman who did nothing but dampen your spirits. Just as you were opening your eyes after building up your resolve, one of the baristas called out, “Spiced Red Velvet latte!” Right on time, just the thing to completely nip these nerves in the bud as if clicking a ‘do not disturb for at least an hour’ switch.
You were so focused on your destination, hand reaching out for its prize. So focused in fact, your hand jolted and floated stiffly as your peripheral caught another hand closing in. Far closer than a stranger’s hand should be, and your eyes were blown wide, resting upon the intruder heading straight for the cup—your cup.
“Oh—”
Both of you stilled. You followed the hand up until you met the gaze of a culprit who dared to try and steal the drink you ordered every single visit! Just as quickly as you made eye contact with a pair of emerald eyes, the barista’s worried voice snagged your attention once more.
“—that’s right! Sorry, both of you ordered the spiced red velvet latte,” clarified the worker behind the counter, slowly, nervously, pulling their hand away from the fresh beverage. “The, uh, the next one will be out shortly!” They amended, turning back to concocting tasty drinks.
“Sorry! You can go ahead, I’m in no rush.”
Your gaze returned to those bright green irises. His voice was deep and soothing, offering a soft smile as he dipped his head towards your drink. Or rather, a drink whose fate laid in the hands of you both. A shared dilemma.
“Wait—wait what?”
Cue the double-take. From the drink, to those curious green eyes, right on back to the drink. Was this… Selflessness? Displayed by one who belonged to a selfish society? “You’re just letting me have it?”
Now, by no means would you ever forfeit something of yours to a human. Not even a drink mishap like this! But, what stopped you in your tracks was the lack of a rude ‘I’ll be taking this! You can wait for the next drink.’ from the stranger.
“Well, yeah, a’course. Raph prides ‘imself on bein’ respectful— ‘s good manners, too.” He was beaming with a proud grin, crossing his arms and standing with a stance that seemed all-too-heroic. The “amaze” factor of his pose was severely detracted by the gym clothes he wore. Basketball shorts and a tank top, sneakers—was this dude on a morning jog? Not the most heroic get-up.
“R.. Right..” Y/n’s eyes rested on the cup and its steam, lingering there for long enough that the drink’s twin had been completed and slid out on the counter, metaphorically framed by the worker chirping, “Another spiced red velvet latte, for here!”
The gears in your head were turning, still frozen by the smallest gesture, far too small for anyone else, but that meant so much more to you. This is a sign, echoed a thought. As he took his drink, you couldn’t have missed him doing a victorious fist to the air and muttering “You still got it, big guy! The precious drink has been secured.” The whimsical nature of the whole interaction had your hand moving before anything could be thought through enough, driven by a single fear. Pushing your hand, the fear begged you, as though letting this one leave here and now would become the biggest regret of your life.
“Wait,”
You nearly whispered the word, feeling an uncharacteristic thump in your chest as those same green hues turned and locked with your own shaky eyes.
“Someone who loves Sugar n’Spice’s spiced red velvet lattes as much as I do, th-that’s hard to find. ‘Cause, y’know what they say, it’s too much sugar and spice.”
“It’s too much sugar n’spice.”
Laughter brought the two together within seconds as the realization that they said the same thing at the same time set in. Y/n’s nerves dissolved—and to be frank, so did this particular stranger’s, not that you would know that.
A shaky invitation was proposed, asking him if he’d like to sit together and share company. With a toothy smile and a nod, the two sat at her claimed table, humming at the clinks the cups made when their bottoms met the polished redwood of the café tables. Just before either could start conversation, one of the old ladies across the room gasped dramatically loud. Y/n would have looked over, had it not been for the man in front of her quickly covering up the scene with a cough and interjection.
“So!”
His voice cracked, seeming to choke on a bit of unease as your eyes returned to him.
“Ya gotta be a regular, too, then?”
“Yes—what gave it away?”
Y/n inquired, taken aback by such a bizarre deduction. Seriously, what gave it away? She glanced at her drink, her seat, and then to the board. The evidence revealed itself before he continued.
“These drinks ‘ave long since been taken off the menu, but they still serve ‘em for the few regulars who knew about it.”
The happy trill he gave upon sipping the hot drink further lowered your guard as you leaned into your hand. The little voice in your head placed its imaginary hands on your shoulders, leaning into your ear with an ecstatic ‘maybe this one’s a good human? say, don’tcha think nice humans exist? there’s the owners of sugar n’spice, so can’t there be others !!?’
“Quite the observant eye you have, sirrrr… Raph” Dragging out the last word until the name came back to you, the same one he said earlier. You were banking on that having been a third-person-speaking moment as opposed to him giving the name of an absentee.
“Raph,” He nodded in confirmation, to which you dipped your head with him, copying his nod.
“And your name?”
“Oh, it’s Y/n.” Your voice spoke sheepishly, wondering why it had taken you so long to say so.
“Issa lovely name, and a pleasure to meet ‘cha!”His smile was so warm and comforting that you let go of the embarrassment swirling around your head, heating your cheeks. Play it off as being from your drink’s steam, that’ll work! Go on, a little ‘shoooo’ to the maroon-red liquid before taking the lightest sip. Ah, it’s still too hot.
“How long ‘ve you been a patron?”
The friendly human asked in order to continue the conversation. This had a tiny smile appearing on your face. You almost couldn’t remember the first time you stumbled into SnS. You blew out a winded raspberry.
“It’s been a good long while..” Pondering hums reverberated from within as your hands lifted the drink once more in a contemplative sip. This was your first year at Eastlaird, so that …plus a couple of years more, Ah!
“Around 3 or 4 years,”
The cup’s bottom tapped the tabletop with a light clink. Ever since you had found one of the more far-off gateways from the Hidden City to the topside, your nose had followed the sweet aroma of coffee. Now every time you snuck away from your mother, you made sure to squeeze a stop here into the schedule. Fortunately for you, sneaking away was one of your specialties, thus your regular status at said coffeehouse.
“Well Raphs been grabbin’ a drink here for 5 or so years!”
The huma— Raph, added after you finished. You wondered internally how miraculous it was that neither of you had run into each other before.
…….
Silence filled up the space around you both. Though the conversation had reached a momentary halt, Raph caught himself lingering on a potential topic. Should he bring up Eastlaird? It was an overheard tidbit from the exchange between you and the employee at the register. But, how could he phrase it without sounding like a bit of a creep for eavesdropping in the first place? He glanced up from his glass to find you staring out of the window. Head angled slightly upwards as though captivated by something, and so his own gaze curiously followed yours to the bright blue sky.
Nothing particularly interesting nor impressive stuck out to him. It was just an ordinary sky—not exactly a clear sky, an occasional cloud would make it’s gradual trek across the expanse—, but as his eyes came back to you, it seemed your eyes saw something else in the overhead canvas. A soft smile graced your lips as your eyes affectionately soaked up the view. Maybe it was the strokes of light morning pinks and golden yellows streaking across the canvas. Or it might have been the dashes of clouds, like stretched-out cotton clouds, pinned to the board for depth. Something about this thing that Raph had seen every day yet never truly seen, the twinkle in your eyes had him taking another look. The atmosphere between the two of you opened up to him as he began to realize the position he was in.
Here, at a table for two, with a lady as pretty as you. Deceiving you, disguised and still daring to watch fondly at this vulnerable smile you gave. You were the perfect picture of someone who saw a world he didn’t, and that very thing was leaving a sour pit in his chest. Raph immediately looked down at his drink, taking another swig, but this time the sweet drink left a bitter aftertaste. Everything he did sounded louder to his ears—picking the cup up, swallowing the latte, placing it back down. He was suddenly all too aware of every action he made. How couldn’t he be? Look at you, so well put-together and serene, and here he was making a blunder of the whole conversation. You went out of your way to invite him, and his thanks to that was uninteresting small-talk.
Raph suddenly felt…
Boring.
The gap in the conversation only seemed to widen as the two of you both scavenged for the next topic. It was an understatement to say it was humiliating to you—inviting a stranger, who was a human also, don’t forget that very important bit, and then proceeding to give them the driest conversation in existence?
You took the pause as a chance to take in your delightful beverage, and it seemed he had the same idea. As the rays of sunlight filtered in through the bay window beside your table, framed by decorative brown curtains made of the silkiest fabric and lined with gauzy trim, you both had your spirits raised as you bask in warmth and contentment brought at the sweet and refreshing sting of the beloved lattes. As true to their name, the delicate blend of sugar and spice displayed a masterful dance upon your tongue. It was just the kind of drink to set you at ease and clear your head entirely, so much so that you found yourself needing to place the glass down gently and excuse yourself to the bathroom.
A splash or two met your face, dragging you out of the vulnerable trance that the latte left you in.
Think about it, you are sharing a table with someone you hate. Well, not him personally, but his people! They treated your folks so poorly, shunning and belittling them. Don’t even think for a second that your community had forgotten the witch trials!
But, the little voice in your head interjected. This is someone showing us something different. Surely you see that, right? He is yet another example of a good human, and there has to be more, Y/n, you know it deep down!
And just like that, Y/n could feel herself slowly turning back to thoughts she once had as a child—all because of this, this!
This guy. Something about him was making her falter on the hatred her mother ingrained in her. Something about him was making this soldier fall out of line…
And back at the table, that someone was almost disturbing those around him with how his leg was bouncing. A ding from his phone made his knee instantly knock against the table, spilling some of the liquid in his drink-twin’s cup. Begin the panic! Napkin after wadded napkin built up on the table as Raph worked to clean up the spill as best as he could, almost going so far as to pour some of his in to make up for the bit lost. Alas, some restraint was exercised while checking the notification that started this whole debacle to begin with.
It was from a certain nosy brother, texting for “the deets“ of what was going on.
Agitated, he turned to the old ladies at the window who instantly—DESPERATELY—looked everywhere else, pretending they weren’t just boring holes into the back of his head.
“Knock it off, you two! I will not be giving you the ‘deets!‘ So stay out of it—you’re throwing me off”
Raph turned back after having whisper-shouted to the ‘ladies’. No, scratch that, to the not-so-dearest brothers clad in blue and purple who took to elderly human disguises. Why, you may ask? To keep an eye on their brother who was currently trying out a mystic cloaking prototype.
As he leaned into the palm of his hand, huffing and twiddling with the delicate chain around his neck, Raph thought back on what led up to him being here, his special café, with THEM, his meddling little brothers. His human thumb ran across the twinkling ruby as it gave off a magical glow.
So, roll back the cameras—back before you strolled through the door.
Raph had a rather awkward entrance. By no means had he fibbed about frequenting here for the past five years, but there was a crucial detail left out.
This was the first day that he came in with so little clothes.
Not like that, no, I mean that he usually only ventures into the human’s stores and public spaces in get-ups that had him sticking out like a sore thumb. Like seriously, who wears scarves, hats, masks, and coats in summer and spring? But today, clad with a magical item, he was just a normal human being. Normal humans had the privilege of not melting themselves under radiating suns from seasonally-inappropriate disguises. They also held the privilege of getting their drink ‘for here’ instead of ‘to-go.’
And boy was he grateful for that on this day specifically.
See, when he had his antsy, awkward encounter with the barista minutes before you came in, he had been all-too-prepared to grumpily seat himself with the odd old ladies. He had even encouraged himself, “Alright Raph, you got this!” before making a complete fool of himself.
“Raph would like to buy one spiced red velvet latte, thank you….”
He and the worker exchanged glances for a few moments. Nobody could miss the quirked eyebrow they gave at his approach. Recovering from the oddity, they typed away on their device then wordlessly stared up at him. Raph felt that there was something to be done now, as though their eyes were conveying a ‘Well? Go on?’ message. Come on, Raphie, you’ve done this a million times over, why now do you blank out?
“And uh… Where does he pay..?”
Raph added, giving an apologetic smile to the poor worker whose face almost read as ‘this isn’t the normalest customer service experience I’ve had, but it definitely isn’t the worst.’ They gestured to the card reader, adding a low, confused “here, sir.”
After he then fumbled with his card, Raph finally paid and made his way to the pick-up counter. Not so bad.. definitely could do better. Nonetheless, he was brimming with pride from configuring how to order, as a human. He rocked back n’forth on his heels, only coming to a standstill when his attention gravitated towards the baristas working fluidly. Down he came from all the jittery nerves of talking to a human, especially while in a rather comfortable outfit, perfected with the stylish mutant-cloaking necklace! Raph almost started fiddling with the golden chain yet again, this time out of grateful thank yous to the inanimate jewelry piece.
But he held himself back, hands shifting down into his pockets. Donnie had told him plenty of times to, “refrain from touching it.” Which, fair, it was a prototype, and Raph was sure he would need to permanently avoid this place if he shifted back in front of all these people! Or, well, all the workers. Not really a busy place when you’re quite literally a hidden gem. Needless to say, he was only halfway aware of his surroundings when the door chimed. A bell rang out and in walked a figure wearing his favorite color.
Now the color alone would always catch his eye, but the reason he lingered was solely because of her. First, he started at the sandals. Awfully pretty, especially with how they wrapped up and around her calves. Raph could never pull that off, he concluded mentally. Next, his gaze continued to climb, taking in the red dress. The way it—
He blinked and began chiding himself for staring so blatantly. It wasn’t polite! Raph’s eyes darted back to the front and center, aimlessly looking at the menu he may or may not have known well enough to not even look. Away his gaze went, searching for yet another sight to focus on. Ah, right, he noticed the baristas had yet to start on his drink, which he didn’t mind, he wasn’t in a rush for anything more than a normal thing to look at for as long as needed without being creepy. A sign, a table, even a chip in the floors! But all too quickly he found his eyes roaming back to her. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail; although, a few pesky strands must have been bothering her because occasionally her swift hand moved to brush them right back behind her ear.
His phone buzzed, bringing him back from his staring trance once again. It was the perfect opportunity to distract himself, and so when he glanced at the notification, the last thing he wanted to see was a notification from Leo. Raph held in an eye roll as he read, ‘Staring quite hard there, brother of mine’ He promptly let his phone slip back into the pockets of his basketball shorts, leaving the message on delivered.
Though he did lull his head towards the two elderly dressed women in one corner of the coffeehouse, giving the one clad in blue a hard stare that read his reply, Shut up. Raph knew full well he was guilty of the accused crime, staring. Didn’t mean he wanted or needed to be called out by his very annoying little brother, and it definitely didn’t help that Leo had a smug face despite the ridiculous amount of makeup he had on. “Gotta look the part!” Leo’s voice echoed in Raph’s head from earlier this morning, as Leo somehow forced Donnie to put on the makeup as well. They looked absurd, and Raph was thankful for the cloaking necklace now more than ever.
Still, Raph found his gaze trailing back to you so much that he dragged his hands down his face, stretching and groaning out, low and exhausted. It wasn’t till the call for a “Spiced red velvet latte!” broke his trance enough that he sluggishly moved over. Like a crescendo, his energy came back with each step until he reached for his drink with a polite nod to the barista. Their shocked look and follow-up sentence was what brought his eyes elsewhere. Down to the cup.
The hand he recognized much-too-quickly stiffly hovered near, and her gaze was a mixture of an unknown emotion and pure confusion. He, too, stiffened up as though meeting the eyes of Medusa herself. Gosh, she’s even prettier up close, a side-tracked thought said, only for him to recoil his rude hand and gesture to the drink. He was apologizing before your gaze could shift into anything that may have ached his heart, following it up with insisting you take the drink. He could wait! Whatever you were saying next was muffled as he found himself entirely entranced, answering in automated sentences that may or may not have been prepared, had he found himself locked in small talk with a human.
So, to break the trance, he accepted the next identical latte handed to him and turned, quick to flee the scene. That is, until the spell knocked up a notch with your hand on him, inviting him to sit.
And that is exactly how he got into this position: sipping his latte as he watched you come back over to your rightful seat, having left the lavatory. All while trying his best to look like a normal person who definitely did not make some of your drink rock out of its mug a second ago. No, not him. Totally. He’s innocent.
“Sorry! I was, er… Splashing my face. To do away with some sleepiness…”
Raph nodded, taking another sip of his drink that had since cooled down. Did he look guilty? Was he playing it off? He choked up on the sweet liquid upon your next statement.
“Whuh—it’s sticky, did you spill something?”
Curiosity and a bit of wariness swirled in your eyes as they bore through him, begging for an answer. He was caught red-handed, entirely so. All he could do was admit his crime, a sigh slipping his lips as he gave an ashamed look to the left like a regretful puppy-dog.
“I was hopin’ I’d cleaned up alla mess ‘fore ya got back. I had some nervous jitters and knocked the table.. Sorry, Y/n..”
There was yet another one of those uncharacteristic thumps in your chest when his eyes met yours, pleading forgiveness. Rather than the usual bitterness settling in your chest, you found yourself a tad bit more patient towards this special boy. Your cheeks flushed, emitting a heat soothed by the cool side of your hand pressing against it with an even more uncharacteristic stammering.
“Y-You’re fine.. Thank you, for the honesty and clearing the mess.”
The next bout of silence was less awkward and more-so dizzying—in a good way. It fluttered your heart and felt welcoming. As the last bit of your drink passed your lips and settled inside, filling you with blissful comfort, you held out a hand for his empty mug. Perhaps a change of heart would do you some good—a kind gesture returned for someone who truly deserved none of your hatred. His eyes met yours, quickly understanding as he stood and passed the cup to you. This moment was coming to an end, and somehow that made your eyes sting for a moment. It was almost as if a tear was threatening you to prolong it as the ceramics were placed upon their respective ‘for-washing’ pedestals at the disposal corner.
“Well, Raph… it was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.”
His smile had you considering an option you would never ever do. Your mind strayed to where your phone was, itching to ask this boy a certain question. Together, you both walked out of the café—and again, you missed how the two old ladies were practically becoming the window with how hard they pressed to the glass, nosily watching.
The morning sun was still bright in the sky, shining through clouds in a way that almost spotlighted you guys as you gathered the courage to ask! Turning to face him, you bit the bullet and opened your mouth!
“Could we exch—IRK!”
Y/n lurched forwards when someone knocked into her in a fashion that just couldn’t have been played off as an accident. Thankfully she had bumped straight into Raph (and tried desperately to ignore how nice his chest felt), but the draining, nauseating feeling that began quickly washing over was enough to raise alarms.
And she knew the exact cause. It wasn’t the closeness to a human or the lack of an “excuse me” or “sorry” for shoving her. No, there was another, far more important cause to the sickness tightening. Y/n raised her dominant hand, holding her clutch and finding that a special ring was no longer wrapped around her finger. Of the things to have taken, had this one thing seemed much more important than a literal wallet?!
“The nerve of some people! He totally meant th—Y/n, whoa, ya look pale! Are you okay?”
His hand instinctually made contact with you, brushing some stray hairs away from your face as you had done a few times earlier.
“Th-That guy, he—thief, he took my-my!”
You held your hand, twirling air around where a ring once was. Raph blanked for a second, thinking you had meant something to do with your clutch, but as his eyes zeroed in on the light prints of an absent ring, it suddenly all made sense to Raph. A rushed “What? Wait here,” was muttered before he was quickly pursuing the thief. All while leaving you against the outside walls of the café.
You watched Raph’s figure leave. A heavy exhale clawed itself from your chest. How foolish! You had been so caught up in thought—about asking for Raph’s number, that you had allowed someone to get so close. Too close, right into your personal space, and completely able to swipe your ring.
That small piece of jewelry was dearer to you than anything else you owned. It was what contained your power, or rather, what kept it in control. Without it, you were a hazard who started leaking mystic energy immediately. Red sparks crackling around your eyes when you were pushed.
Just seconds from a potential disaster, but somehow it was Raph’s voice that snapped you out of it. You couldn’t lose control here in front of the one place you swore to protect from your evil. You wouldn’t lose control in front of him. So when you barely explained with a shaky voice and he quickly sprung into action, leaving you, there was relief swirling around. This was a good thing. You’d rather him not be around to witness if you couldn’t maintain a firm grip on your power. Not him. Okay, try to distract yourself. Control, think about anything else, anything but your magic right now.
Oh, right! He had held you!
The thought struck you so fiercely your cheeks heated to the same shade as your dress. The warmth of his arms holding you lingered. Even just remembering the feel of his broad chest had you utterly distracted. And it hadn’t stopped there! He had brushed your hair away from your face, his fingers so careful and gentle. That type of touch was quite foreign to you. It had you blushing even more furiously than before—if that was even possible. Your eyes never left Raph’s back until he dashed out of view into an alleyway.
As soon as Raph had seen your expression twist and realized you had been wronged, it was like his body moved before his brain could catch up. The perpetrator had sped up into a jog, after hearing Y/n call out “thief.”
Luckily there weren't that many people crowding the sidewalks this morning. Especially since this part of the city wasn't as advertised. Raph’s green eyes tracked the punk as he dodged into an alleyway. He pushed himself faster, shrinking any chances of this guy getting away right on down to zero. Maybe even into the negatives if he tried hard enough,
Fate was on Raph’s side, as is befitting of the hero, because he slowed to a stop to find the petty criminal glaring at the dead end before him. The universe was practically handing this criminal over to Raph in a cute little red bow right now.
“Alright felon, hand back the stolen ring.”
His voice was rough and commanding. Above all else, he despised those who preyed on the weak. Criminal acts like these deserved a good beating, but Raph was willing to compromise on that if this perp coughed up the ring without making things difficult.
“Back up, hero!”
The cornered thief sneered as he brandished a knife, waving it threateningly.
Raph couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. If only this guy knew! Raph and his brothers faced weapons tenfold more menacing on every patrol. He doubted such a dull thing could even pierce his shell. For a second, he toyed with the thought of taking off the cloaking necklace. Showing his true form. This punk looked like the type to wet himself, and the slight trembling in his hand that wielded such a crude weapon didn’t go unnoticed by Big Raphie.
“They always wanna do it the hard way,”
Raph murmured, shaking his head as he moved forward. This guy was sorely underestimating him. It was comical! Raph ended up wondering if his human form, despite its size, just wasn’t all that intimidating. That would be new to him. So Raph opted for using this to his advantage. After all, he may look big, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fast, and what was more rewarding than proving wrong the criminal foolish enough to underestimate the Raphael Hamato?
The crook hardly got a second to blink before he was sprawled out on the ground, clutching his gut as he dragged in wounded breaths. Securely in Raph’s palm rested a wooden ring, Y/n’s ring. It had a band of red jewels inside that glimmered brightly even though the alleyway was covered in shadows. He smiled to himself, it seemed as though you really liked this color. His color.
Yet another thing the two of you had in common, other than drinks. How much more did the two of you share interest in?. He wanted—no, needed—to find out.
Now Raph was sure he had held back on his punches, but it was painfully obvious this culprit was struggling to even stand. I see no issue with him turning his back on a downed enemy, do you? Was that overkill? No? Maybe? Who’s here to judge him, honestly?
“Next time, think twice before stealing from a pretty lady.”
He growled over his shoulder before starting up a run back to you. Raph hoped he hadn’t taken too long as he tried to move just a little faster to get back to your side.
Since having been left by Raph, you were finding each second to be harder and harder to restrain the burst of overflowing magic. Thoughts and distractions could only take you so far before fizzling out. Just as you were your mother’s vessel for revenge, that ring was your vessel for magic—a conduit, even. Others would even call it your arcane focus.
Bottomline was, without it, you could barely handle the destructive force pinballing around within. It seems the state you were in was so worrying that the two elderly ladies from the cafe came out, frantically bickering in harsh whispers that were all too muffled in your ears.
Was it getting hot in here, or was it just you? Anyone else? Just you? Alright. Your body pressed harder into the cafe’s brick walls, soothed by the coolness they held. Your head was spinning, with worry and desperation. Was this area hidden enough to attract more danger? Had you really been so foolish as to leave yourself open in prime human territory? Hell, what if this was all an elaborate trick and that thief was actually in cahoots with Raph, and vice versa?
But, what if these are all just your delirious, panicked thoughts? Remember the little voice, the one beckoning hope. She wants to believe humans are good. She wants to believe Raph is good.
You want to believe humans are good, don’t you? How did that one saying go, the one about how even the smallest things can cause the biggest changes? However it went, it seemed this Raph human might have been your smallest thing, creating this ripple of thoughts in your head.
Or, again, maybe that’s the delirium.
You had almost entirely given up on the last bits of hope for Raph being good when finally you saw his silhouette running back to you. He had the widest grin on his face, waving your focus in the air and calling out “Y/n! I got it, ya don’t gotta worry!”
You weren’t sure when the ladies had left, but when he slowed down in front of you and took your hand, you couldn’t help but notice you were all alone.
Old humans were… strange.
Color returned to your skin, the plummeting left your chest, and your tremors ceased as the polished wooden ring slid back into its rightful place upon your hand.
“Th-Thank you…”
You breathed out, allowing yourself to press into him once again with your senses returning faster than you were capable of handling with a straight face. Your forehead rested against his chest as the overflowing energy was being vacuumed right on back to the ring, leaving you far more winded than any training session with Mother had done.
“It’s no problem, Y/n… This ring must be really important to have you this… Upset…”
His voice was softer than it had been during your talks inside. There was obvious concern and worry laced in it. Such kindness was nearly unrecognizable to you, so forgive the temporary dependence on it.
“More than you know, Raph..”
You replied, rubbing the ring so that it twirled around your skin—a nervous habit that Raph took notice to almost immediately. Forgive him, as well, for the heightened attention he had on you right now. A fond smile settled upon his lips as something came back to him suddenly.
“About your question a moment ago, before… well, this. Sure.”
“What?”
You looked up, confused by what he meant. The smile he gave you was enough to put even more hope in your head, eroding the grime and muck that poisoned you, beckoning you deeper to the villainous pits.
“T’exchange numbers, right? That was what ya almost asked?”
Oh! You had completely forgotten that part. Straightening up and taking a coy step back from him, you pulled your cellular from a pocket in your dress (because, really, what villain wears a dress without pockets? never you, of course) and handed it to him with bashful joy.
After the exchange, you both waved your goodbyes, then turned your adoring gaze to the contact in your phone.
𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 (𝘚𝘙𝘝 𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯)
(1)𝘟𝘟𝘟-𝘟𝘟𝘟-𝘟𝘟𝘟𝘟
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coreene · 2 months
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Longsaddle
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The hamlet of Longsaddle is little more than a row of buildings on either side of the Long Road, halfway along the lengthy journey from Triboar to Mirabar. A path leaves the road here and winds to the Ivy Mansion, the great house of the wizards of the Harpell family. Since the Harpells founded the town more than four centuries ago, they have brooked little nonsense and less mayhem. Their own behaviour sometimes borders on the bizarre and can be disturbing - they once turned two rival sects of Malarites into rabbits for disturbing Longsaddle with their squabbles, leaving them at the mercy of the predators they had honoured - but they are one of the most potent gatherings of mages anywhere in the North.
The Harpells are a jovial, if insular, lot. All wizards, they tend to marry wizards as well, and the elder women of the family (by blood or marriage) set the course for the house and utterly rule matters within the Ivy Mansion. The family takes on a number of apprentice wizards, using them for menial tasks and for basic defence of Longsaddle. Some apprentices are often the inadvertent test subjects for an experimental spell, but such is the danger of apprenticing to the Harpells. It is likely this spirit of experimentation that caused the Harpells to found their town so far away from other settlements. Young wizards with oddly sized or shaped limbs, strange hair colour, or shifting forms are fairly common sights in Longsaddle, not surprising to locals though they might give visitors pause.
Given the Harpells' reputation as powerful wizards, and the sheer number of them, there is no shortage of folk poking around Longsaddle and the nearby lands hoping to discover caches of magic, hidden like children's treasures. Of course, few, if any, such bundles exist, but the locals draw no shortage of entertainment from sending would-be thieves on grand chases for wands, rings, and other magic trinkets that any prudent person would realize simply don't exist. After all, if the average trader in Longsaddle knew where powerful magic was located, he would be more likely, down the years, to try to claim it.
The primary business of Longsaddle is ranching, and the lands surrounding the village are dominated by hundreds of ranches and farms of every sort and size, from tiny horse farms to great fields of cattle. During those days that livestock are brought in for trading, Longsaddle is a dusty, noise-filled place, with the sounds of the animals competing with the shouts of farmers hoping to sell their goods.
At all other times, it's a quiet, almost sleepy hamlet, except when the booming reverberation of a Harpell-crafted spell breaks the silence. The family is constantly researching magic both old and new, and twisting spells and rituals into interesting (to them) innovations. This proclivity has prompted them to surround Ivy Mansion with as many magical wards as the family can muster, in order to protect the populace from an errant explosion, terrifying illusion, or the odd, galloping horse of lightning speeding by.
Several businesses designed to attract travellers stand in Longsaddle, if for no other reason than travel along the well-named Long Road can be tiresome. The first is the Gilded Horseshoe, an old inn to the west of the road that serves fine food and drink, offers comfortable beds, and is close enough to the Ivy Mansion that no one would dare disturb it or its guests. The owners have access to some of the choicest cuts of meat in Longsaddle, and as a result, their roasts and stews are exquisite.
Across the road, the Ostever family serves as the local slaughterer and butcher for folk wishing to take meat, rather than live animals, away from Longsaddle. Rumour holds that the sausages have much improved down the years but buyers are advised to "mind the tusks" by locals, a reference to an old joke that none remember. Folk willing to wait can have the able hands of the Ostevers perform a slaughter, hanging, dressing, and packing for them, though this process is likely to take days longer than most travellers can spare.
There is entertainment to be had at the Gambling Golem, where cheaters in the card or dice games are tossed out into the street, and a local marbles game known as scattershields is popular. Dry goods, candles, lanterns, saddles, rope, and wagon wheels are available from a number of other shops.
It can't be stressed enough that while the Harpells have little interest in the daily running of Longsaddle, it is undeniably their town. They rarely suffer insults, and never tolerate violence against themselves, their family, or the locals. A conflict involving the Harpetls is likely to end swiftly and bloodily, and (unless the offender is convincingly apologetic, unconscious, dead, or forgiven of the wrongdoing) will often draw additional Harpells to support their kin. Harpell supports Harpell in all public matters, and no one bothers to record the numbers and names of those that forgot that fact.
Aside from the Harpells, the dominant families of Longsaddle are ranchers: the Cadrasz, Emmert, Kromlor, Mammlar, Sharnshield, Suldivver, and Zelorrgosz families have ranched in or near Longsaddle for generations, and influence most of the daily life there. They set the market days, help resolve disputes among families, and broker purchases when a farmer or businessperson dies without an heir. They settle smaller matters and keep the peace as best they can, knowing full well that if the Harpells need to get involved in a dispute, there is always the possibility of an offender's being blasted into nothingness.
These families are also the ones most likely to hire outsiders to deal with matters on the ranches, whether an ore raid or the appearance of lycanthropes in the area (though it's rumoured that the latter creatures may be the descendants of one of the Harpells). The major ranching interests often hire adventurers not only to further their own aims or provide for defence, but to secretly hinder or harm one another and gain an advantage in their ongoing competition. Adventurers that go too far on such a mission can be explained away as foolish outlanders, and if they offend a Harpell and get blasted in the middle of the Low Road, there will be no one left to ask about the matter. My best advice is to be mindful of the scent of magic in the air and act accordingly.
source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 48-49, map
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bisexual-horror-fan · 2 years
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So the Freddy Krueger tongue phone scene pops up in my mind every once in a while, and I NEED to know if anyone has written a fic using that. It's so- 😫
Oh Juice! So funny you asked this because I was actually planning on doing this because I have not seen a single person do this yet which is honestly a fucking crime, right?! You gave me the perfect in and excuse to write this! I am counting this as a belated birthday gift to me but I hope you all love it too! Shout out to @lucifers-horror-harem for the title! Let’s not waste time, let’s fucking GO!
Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.7K. Freddy Krueger X GN! AFAB! Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Mentions Of Murder. Mentions Of Gore. Mentions Of Death. Sleep Deprivation. Tension. Fear Play. Sexual Frustration. Dirty Talk. Praise. Masturbation. Degradation. Taunting. Teasing. Banter. Begging. Oral Sex. Tougue Fucking. Face (Phone?) Riding. Phone Sex. Orgasm Denial. Edging. Squirting. Giving Freddy A Taste Of His Own Medicine.
Tongue Tied.
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Your life used to be simple. 
Things were real fucking easy prior to this mess. Usual life stuff, college, job, friends, you know, an average life but one that you loved because you foraged it yourself, it was yours. 
It didn’t feel like that lately however, as of late it feels as if your very existence was threatened to be ripped from your grip, even as you clawed desperately to hold it close and maintain it. The start of it happened with a friend complaining of nightmares kicked it off, you had been having some yourself but passed it off on tests and life stress, until your friend died under very mysterious circumstances. And she wasn’t the only one.
Multiple people in your town started dying, your own nightmares ramped up, worsened, you didn’t want to sleep, you couldn’t, by now you had figured out that sleeping would spell your end and you weren’t going to take that lying down.
The connecting thread in all your nightmares was a man, no, a monster, a demon, an awful and evil creature hell bent on ruining and destroying everything and everyone in his path. Horribly burnt and somehow even more horribly dressed, he told terrible jokes and invaded your personal space, he knew all your worst fears and taunted you relentlessly. He seemed to get off on playing with his food, namely you, and drawing this out. He made you feel so unsteady, terrified and unsafe. He loved your uncomfortability, loved how your face twists and betrays your emotions. Lets him in on all your thoughts and feelings. 
Your own home, your own room, your own fucking bed, a sanctuary, a haven from the shit of the outside world had been twisted into a space that instead bred nightmares simply by occupying it. 
It made you on edge, made your blood run cold and made you want to cry and scream. It made you want to fucking break something.
But were you going to tolerate this? Letting this crispy asshole annihilate your life when it was just truly beginning? Gutting you open with some cheesy pun, laughing all the while as he played in your intestines? As fucking if. No way, you were going to get him, you had a plan, you were going to fuck him up before he ever had the chance to do it to you.
You had to act soon. Your grades and job suffered, you were so tired all the time that micro naps were impossible to avoid, your eyes were always burning, limbs heavy and steps sluggish. You have to stop him. 
So you intended to take action, who knows how many more nights you might be able to survive, you were thoroughly exhausted and tonight might be your last shot. You were going to set a loud alarm, fall asleep, find him and drag him into reality. No fucking dream demon bullshit, no powers, just you and him and you think with the traps you set up that you have a damn good shot at getting him. 
You had everything all set up and you were feeling determined, ready. More than all that though, you had to admit, you were frustrated. Not just mentally, you were very frustrated mentally, but physically. You were so fucking pent up, you had been so distracted and busy and dealing with a million other things it feels like way too long since you had last gotten off and it was weighing on you. 
It made you worried.
It was an unnecessary distraction, one you feared might hinder your performance tonight, you needed your wits about you, a clear head. That is why you thought that getting yourself off before trying to enact your plan was probably a wise call to make. 
You settled into your bed, got under the covers, lights still low as you decided to take care of that little problem, you weren’t going to let something as silly and simple as not taking care of your physical needs lead to your death. 
So you took some time and some care. You couldn’t take as long as you usually might like to but you did want to ensure that you came hard as fuck and really satisfied yourself. Hands started high and skimmed down your sides, lower and lower, fingers over your hips and into your pyjama shorts. You find your underwear damp just as they always are lately, your fingers press in just the right spot and it makes your hips stir in response. You start to rub slow and soft circles, the pleasurable heat sparks low inside of you, one thought is clear, that thought of course being, “Fuck I needed this.”
You touched harder, more pressure, you wanted to speed it a long, now that you got started you couldn’t stop, you were truly aware of just how needy you were. No hope of slowing down, you circled harder, eyes falling closed and back arching as the sensation built. A soft curse leaves your lips, thoughts flit through your mind, disjointed images and fantasies, hot thoughts that never fail to make you clench and throb, they expedite the process even further. You pant softly as your hand works, fingers never slowing, you were going to get there in record time at this rate. 
The thought of a strong hand on your throat and a thick thigh between your own for you to grind on makes you gasp, dragged right to the edge, just a little more and you’d be there. Mental clarity, peace, your life back, a good night’s sleep, it was all within reach and you bite your bottom lip, a few more passes of your fingers and the tension would break, pleasure would overtake and you’d finally, blissfully cu-
The phone on your bedside table rang loud and clear and it caused your hand to pull back and you to sit up.
Your heart was pounding as you looked over your shoulder to the phone, who the fuck was calling right now? You couldn’t deal with this! You had far too much to do, also you didn’t want to talk to whoever it was when they so rudely cut your pleasure short and inadvertently made you edge that hard by calling. So you leaned over and ripped the cord free from the wall with a huff, you wrapped the cord around the phone for good measure before slamming it back down. Whoever it was, it couldn’t be more important than you taking your life back, hell, it couldn’t be more important than you getting off.
You fall back against the pillows, your hand slips back into your shorts, eyes closing, you work to conjure up some of those really hot images and get back what you lost. Your mood was definitely soured, that was going to be a stellar orgasm that was stolen, you’d have to seriously try to get back into that head space, a piss off when you had so much to accomplish tonight. 
Just as you were starting to fall back into it, just as it was beginning to feel good again, when you had hope of a halfway decent orgasm, the phone, inexplicably, rang again. 
This time you weren’t angry. You were scared and confused. You sat up slowly, looked at the phone next to you and it rang again. And again. How was that possible when you unplugged it? You ripped the cord out of the wall for fucks sake. 
You shifted onto your knees, you picked up the phone and unwrapped the cord slowly, it rang once more and once the cord was free you picked up the phone, brought it up with shaking fingers to your ear, a soft, “Hello?”
You hear that voice that refused to leave your head, the same one that had haunted your dreams and echoed along the walls of your skull. That deep voice, teasing and taunting, sickening and cloying, “Did I hear something about needin’ some head?”
Before you could even register what he said you felt it, hot and wet and slimy, your eyes widened as you pulled the phone away to see the mouth piece was replaced with an actual mouth, his mouth. Burnt lips and chin, impossibly long tongue, there was saliva on your cheek and he was laughing over his dumb joke you just caught up with. You thought masturbating would clear your head, something he must have clearly overheard for him to make such a crude joke about it. 
You got too comfortable and fell asleep while touching yourself. 
You were already dreaming. 
He was still laughing over his lame joke, you were still clutching the phone and the fear dissipated, anger took over once more. This sick fuck was ruining your life and laughing about it, over the effect he had on you, the choke hold he had on your very existence, your suffering, to him? Was laughable. 
You hated him.
Hated what he had taken from you, the damage done, the lives and sleep lost and even if it was stupid and petty, yes over the one small pleasurable act you tried to do for yourself in nearly two weeks of putting up with his shit. 
The thought hits all at once as his laughter is slowing down. This fucker had taken so much, why don’t you take something from him and give something to yourself at the exact same time.
This asshole was making jokes about head, huh? Why not hold him to it and have him put his money where his mouth was. You held the phone tighter, you sat up, your other hand came down and you yanked, taking your shorts and soaked underwear down with one smooth move. The clothing now bunched around your knees, your other hand wrapped around the phone and you brought it down, you settled yourself, straddling the phone so his tongue was right where you needed it.
You begin to hear him question what you were doing and you bring yourself the rest of the way, soaked lips against his, a buck of your hips, grinding yourself on the part of the phone that had been morphed to match the lower half of his face. “You wanna give me head, huh Krueger? Here’s your fucking chance.”
You thought that this could be the one thing to shut him up, you were practically suffocating his mouth with your slick cunt but no, the speaker of the phone was uncovered and in a shocking turn of events his voice came through the earpiece loud and clear. “Ooh see this is why I fucking like you! So much fight in you.”
“Yeah, yeah, M’ something real special.” You breathed as you moved your hips again, “If you’re gonna bore me by talking on and on, the least you can do is get to eating.”
“Touchy, touchy. I know you’re really pent up, huh?”  He did finally start putting that mouth to good use, beginning to slide his tongue down, prodding at your soaked hole. A hum as he tasted you before working back up and flicking over your clit in a way that made your thighs tense immediately. 
You let out a half-laugh-half-moan, yeah pent up was putting it lightly. You didn’t acknowledge it, instead moaning out, “There you go, keep goin’.”
“You are so fucking nasty. I don’t think anyone else would think to pull this. Most people would be terrified or disgusted.” For once, you found his voice wasn’t grating to you. It was actually good, the tone of it was helping you, it was turning you on. Never let it be said the man couldn't multi-task. Only he could eat you out like this and keep trash talking.
The fire is fanned, the pleasure spikes as his tongue circles your sensitive clit, eyes falling closed as a shuddering breath is expelled, fuck he was really good with his mouth. Good to know he could do more than just run it to annoy you. 
Another laugh, “Not you though, here you are, humping like a bitch, desperate to get off.” He taunted and you bit your bottom lip, a nod with a hum. “Mmmf, shit, you a-ahhn! Actually aren’t half bad.”
He scoffed, “Half-bad?! Don’t pretend it isn’t the best you’ve ever fucking had, whore.” He sounded genuinely offended and you laughed. You weren't about to pay him any compliments, last thing he needs is a bigger ego.
You ground on his mouth again, he was giving you the perfect in, you taunted him further. “Best I’ve everrrr had?” A mix of a laugh and gasp as his lips closed around your clit and sucked deeply, “Harrr-hardly, give you a solid, ugh, five out of ten.”
There was an animalistic and inhuman growl that rang out from the phone, he questioned, “Five?” 
Your eyes closed, a hum as your head tipped back, a nod, “Mmf five. Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?” You were panting, rocking along with the effort of his mouth that was steadily increasing, “You gonnahhh, prove me wrong?”
There was no smart or biting retort, instead just his tongue sliding inside of you, long and thick, reaching far deeper than any normal tongue should be able to. You moaned loudly in surprise, he curled it inside of you, touched those spots that no one other than you had ever been able to manipulate quite right. And there was something else on top of that, somehow, the movement, the tight circles wound over your clit didn’t pause or break stride or stop. How the fuck was he doing this?
Did he split his tongue? Forked it like the demon you knew he was?
That shouldn’t get to you, but it did, him so wanting to prove you wrong, so wanting to get you off as good as possible he shapeshifted himself to better accomplish that goal without a second thought. 
You were leaking obscenely, slick and his spit running down your inner thighs, whole body was trembling in less than five minutes, more dirty talk spills from the ear piece but you aren’t that focused on it, can barely register it but some do break through. 
Compliments, praise and degradation over how good you tasted, what a freak you were for being so into this and getting off so hard, right now he was going on about how you sounded. You were moaning incoherently, totally out of breath, shaking as you were getting close, sucking down a deep breath you breathed, “Fuck, don-don’t stop, m’ gonna cum-” 
A breathy laugh leaves the phone under you, “Yeah? Gonna fuckin’ cum so soon?”
You nodded, huffing out, annoyed, “Yea-yeah, fuck-” He taunted more, “What happened to all that big talk?”
Another idea hit and you employed it immediately. 
“Hey Krueger?” You asked, clit throbbing on his tongue, so close, just about there, he asked, “Yeah sweetheart?”
Both of your hands closed over the top of the phone muffling where his voice had been coming out. “Shut. Up.” 
You bucked your hips one more time, that last grind as his tongue flexed inside and he sucked on that most sensitive part of you and you spilled over and cum with an ample gush into his mouth. It was so worth the wait it was insane, back arching, hands gripping so hard that you feared you might shatter the plastic of the phone in your palms.
You know he is saying something else, can feel the vibrations and hear the muffled attempts of whatever he was saying as you continue to hump his mouth, riding out your orgasm for a blissfully long time. You don’t know how long it went on for but when you fell onto your side, off of the phone, panting, trying to catch your breath, you were totally slick with sweat and your thighs were a mess. 
Your legs were still trembling, arms thrown over your eyes, you heard the voice ring out from the phone, “So was that still a five?”
A smile crossed your face as you sat up, arms moving slowly, still sluggish from how hard you came, you picked up the phone, it was sticky with sweat and squirt and spit, you responded to him, still holding the phone away from your face. 
“Awe Freddy. No, no, of course it’s not a five anymore.” You reassured and he purred out in question, “Then what is it doll?”
You grinned so wide it nearly hurt as you said, fingering the coiled phone cord, “You really earned this rating, solid effort.”
You let it hang for a moment, building tension, making him wait before you said, smile clear in your tone. “Five point five outta ten.” And then you slammed the phone back down onto the receiver and the exclamation of muffled pain from that action made you laugh so hard you were soon out of breath once again.
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Oh my god im going to fight these fucking youtube channels that are like “oh i recreated this [really expensive indie brand dress] for only [absurdly low amount of] dollars!!!”
It’s one thing to be like, “oh I wanted this dress but they don’t have it in exactly the material i want or in a price i can afford, so I’m going to try and make it myself!” It’s another entirely to act like you can remake it for $6 or $5. In fact it’s absurd to act like you can remake it for $50, often.
You have sewing machines. You have sergers. And even if you don’t have a serger you have fancy modern sewing machines that do more than one type of stitch. You are filming this in a designated sewing room full of expensive equipment that the average person does not have and/or know how to use.
But fine, lets talk about the way these brands are priced for moment. Almost all clothing with few exceptions (mostly knit things like socks) remains made by hand. A human being has to run every piece of stitched clothing you own through a sewing machine. This is backbreaking labor. If you’ve never done it, you have no idea how exhausting it is. A home-sewer making individual pieces for personal use has no idea how exhausting it is. My mother and her sisters did piecework for years in their youth. My mother worked in sweatshops when she first came to the US. She made something like $2-3/hr. In other countries that’s more like $2-3/day.
These slow-fashion, sustainable indie clothing brands that pay their workers fair wages for their labor are not overpricing their garments. You are paying for not just the superior quality but also the ethical treatment of garment-industry workers.
And it is completely fine if you see the price tag and know that you cannot afford that dress or shirt or whatever it may be. You cannot make that same dress for $6. You simply cannot. Federal minimum wage in the US is $7.25. Can you make that dress in under an hour? And I’m not talking about just the stitching. Can you pattern, trace, cut, pin, sew, and finish that dress in less than an hour? You might be able to manage that for a t-shirt. Can you do it for a dress with darts, multiple skirt panels, neckline and hem facings, topstitching, and pockets? Can you do it even half as neatly in that one hour?
I do not pretend the things I make are affordable. I do not pretend, even when I am able to thrift my fabric, that this is somehow cheaper than just buying something someone else already made. I find it deeply disingenuous to act like the cost of labor and equipment simply don’t exist.
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straydaddy · 1 year
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Glimpses into arctic Pandora (all artwork is by me, and the signatures are my more used online nickname)
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Tauk lives with a lot of lakes. She's a skilled maker of fishing nets and other fish traps. She also makes dyed fabrics. Her grandmother is an expert of local natural pigments, fungi and berries alike, and she's a keen student. She's strong, outspoken and adventurous. An energetic powerhouse with her feet in the ground. While she has her heart in the right place for the most part, she does not always understand those who have less social skills, and might appear judgemental/intimidating to such cases. This is because she grew up being quite secure in herself, and doesn't seem to understand that not everyone can take such for granted.
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Mokri'ena is bit of a daydreamer and an introvert. She loves to learn about stories from across Pandora. She has heard of the Sky People, Toruk Makto and the legendary warrior Neytiri. Many say she kind of exists outside of the moment she's in, outside of her body. She's interested in news and history. She always feels intimately aware of how frail safety and peace are. She can't stop thinking about the Sky People, or the Omaticaya and the Metkayina she has never met. She grew up being a little weird, - or well, just not really understanding other kids' concept of fun. She was a little artist who preferred her imagination over her loud and more sociable peers. As an adult she's keen to help those in need, as she has known the pain of being forgotten.
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Tulìm is from a coastal settlement, from a terrain broken into many islands.
He was always an adventurer, - as he was born in a mainland tribe. The coastal islands always made him curious because he wanted to see more of his world, so he moved there and joined a trader ship crew.
For most of his life he was simply a trader ship navigator, and later a the captain.
He commands one of the biggest trader ships of the region. He has seen many lands outside of his own, and is known for his skills with diplomacy and leadership. He doesn't lead to benefit himself, but to serve his people and especially his crew.
His nemesis for life is an ice na'vi pirate. He spends his old, last days in a bitter hunt of his nemesis, until his worn-out body succumbs into the ocean for the last time.
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Keyuk is the Olo'Eyktan of one of the many ice na'vi tribes. The era of his leadership has been a stable and quiet one. While a part of his humour is making a serious face to trick people, he's actually more known for his easygoing and humble personality. He knows his responsibilities, but has a pretty egalitarian approach to his social life. He breaks some of the traditions of his people by dressing like an average member of his society. He's never been a fan of trying to act like more than you are, - he's all bite and with none of the bark! This makes him well-respected and liked among his people.
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The two main types of arctic na'vi:
(Left) Those of the land, - descenants of forest na'vi similiar to the Omaticaya, but with adaptations to cold, long winters. Most of their body is covered in fur.
(Right) Those of the waters, - arctic cousins to reef na'vi like Tau'nui and Metkayina. These 'ice na'vi' are even more extremely adapted to spending time in water than reef na'vi are, having even more powerful swimming tails and upwards-facing nostrils for easily getting air between their long dives. They don't have fur, but regulate their body heat by the layers of fat under their skin, much like cetaceans on Earth. Like reef na'vi, ice na'vi also have a symbiotic relationship with a tulkun-like sapient species.
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This is an arctic viperwolf. Fur grows between their armor plates and most of the plateless regions of rheir bodies. Their shape is rounder and stubbier than that of the tropical viperwolves, for trapping more heat in their bodies.
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Arctic ikran relatives also exist, and are popular flying steeds to many snow na'vi tribes. They're covered in filamentous structures resembling little hair fans.
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arisenreborn · 19 days
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@edgier-than-a-diamond thank you so much for the character thoughts prompt :D
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1. What my Arisen thinks of them -
Reverie is almost a bit hypnotized whenever Wilhelmina's got her in her sights; she's astoundingly beautiful, entrancingly so, but there's also a lowkey sense of danger that Rev realizes she should be careful about but... mostly just adds to that mysterious appeal. She's very curious about her, because there seems to be more to her that meets the eye from the first time they meet, considering she was immediately willing to help get her out of a tricky predicament. There are ways in which Reverie is very perceptive, and others where her lost memories create a fault point in actually putting the pieces together. Nonetheless, even when they've established more of a bond of comradery and trust, she gets the sense that Wilhelmina is holding back - even when she's openly flirting.
2. What my Pawn thinks of them -
I feel like I have to first say: Rann isn't stupid. Quite the opposite. He's just not always quick to leap to what might be extremely obvious in instances of flirtation and physical intimacy. So while he knows the kind of work that goes on in the Rose Chateau, he doesn't have a strong personal opinion on it, hasn't really considered it. So for Wilhelmina, at first he simply thinks of her as any other individual they've crossed paths with, strong-willed, clever, and charismatic. There's a bit of caution: after all she seems to have secrets, and he's wary of anyone who might try to manipulate the Arisen to their own ends, but ultimately in the course of aiding the Reverie, proves herself to be an ally worthy of trust and respect. It's only a bit later that he realizes Wilhelmina is flirting with Reverie when he thinks any deeper about it...
3. What they think of my Arisen -
She isn't sure what to think of Reverie initially. She seems the kind sort, and a little soft, a little naive - but someone who was only kind, and soft, and naive, wouldn't be sneaking around the palace with that sharp, determined look in her eyes. Reverie is a slew of contradictions, and she suspects at times it's her loss of memory that lends to that. But those contradictions certainly make her interesting, and in the end she can't deny she's rather fond of their Arisen. Maybe... a little more than she would prefer. But she is very perceptive of the 'vibe' between Reverie and Rann; most of her play-flirting with Reverie ends up being deliberately in front of Rann to see that brow of his furrow.
Rann:
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4. What they think of my Pawn -
Such a curiosity. At first she didn't think overmuch about him, though I do like to think she has slightly more sympathy for Pawns than perhaps your average Vermundian. Still, while she doesn't have much personal interaction with most Pawns, she could easily see there was something... different, about Rann. Possibly even before he actually really began showing any distinct growth. (I think she's just that good at reading people.) She has enough of her own problems to take care of without playing matchmaker, but whensoever she's around them she loves to prod at Reverie to see that above-mentioned confusion on his face. She knows there's a heart in there that's getting twisted up, he just hasn't figured it out yet, so she playfully believes she's doing him a favor helping him do just that.
Bonus: An extra headcanon I have about them -
Wilhelmina gifted Reverie a beautiful scarlet dress embroidered with golden dragons on the sleeves for wearing to masquerades. Another slightly... "I'm not sure if I really want that but it's on a shelf in my head" headcanon is that Rann goes to her for ~romantic advice~ at some point, which... when Reverie first hears "Rann went to the Rose Chateau" has her soul leaving her body.
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lostcybertronian · 3 months
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I headcanon that all of then are in their later 30s or VERY early 40s (William). So that it's realistic for Damien to be a mayor and for William to be a (Lieutenant) Colonel.
Celine is an edgy queen. I don't like her much as a character (sue me) but I've thought about her outfit.
It. Is. Full. Black.
For that time period black was still seen as a funeral colour. It first became popular through Coco Chanel in 1926! Vogue called it "Chanel's Ford". So the Little Black Dress (LBD) came into existence. It's a black evening or cocktail dress.
In short: Either Celine was in grieving (I don't think of her that old fashioned. She might have been born during victorian times but I can imagine her as a suffragette) or she was simply ahead of her time and a bit edgy.
I feel it also symbolises a bit her not wanting to fit into her role. She and Mark might have had a picture perfect relationship, but it simply did not fit her personality. She always bucked the norm.
Makes Dark more interesting too imo. Celine's still part of Dark. Being pushed into the designated role as villain without fighting wasn't going to happen (see DAMIEN).
I didn't like Celine much either, tbh. I feel like her characterization could've gone in more directions than witchy/occult (that being the ONLY direction her character went in until DAMIEN, where I really liked that she was displayed as a protector/ruthless).
Her outfit could be considered an outward projection of her association with the occult, a visual aid for the viewer, since the average viewer probably doesn't know much about fashion. I like your analysis of bucking the norm, though. It provides some depth to her character in separating from Mark (normal, successful, actor) and going to William (eccentric, though still arguably successful) barring the obvious fact of how divorce worked back then.
Damien, outside of his emotional turmoil once shit hits the fan, seems to me to be the more tempered, calm side of Dark. Being mayor, I definitely think he can be manipulative and people-savvy (source: politicians throughout the ages), but he seems overall kind. Celine, to me, is the ruthless, angry side of Dark. She is DEFINITELY manipulative. DEFINITELY angry (she already knows how Mark works, whereas Damien came to the party thinking Mark was still a friend) and let's not forget Damien was kept for months if not years in a pocket dimension of Celine's design. Maybe some of her rage and magic rubbed off on him.
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