#also made a few new brushs that I might stick with for more art

[i-ges]

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Wednesday, December 23rd

The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials. 

At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day. 

And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right? 

“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends. 

You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite. 

“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.” 

“Well, does he colour his drawings?” 

You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.” 

“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?” 

Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.” 

“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.” 

“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.” 

“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches. 

They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available. 

“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.” 

“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette. 

“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?” 

“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?

“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?” 

You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.” 

“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled. 

“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?” 

“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.” 

“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile. 

“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?” 

“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over. 

As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” 

“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box. 

“Would you like me to call you a cab?” 

You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”

The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited. 

When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?” 

No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room. 

There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak. 

We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.

You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room. 

That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire. 

“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney. 

“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?” 

“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.” 

“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.” 

You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed. 

Thursday, December 24th

There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.” 

“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles. 

The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people.  Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative. 

“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed. 

By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.” 

Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.  

“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”  

You frowned at that, that had never been your intention. 

“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–” 

“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you. 

“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”

“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile. 

“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.” 

You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.

“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued. 

You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.

When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof. 

Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on. 

“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.” 

“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?” 

“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.” 

“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question. 

“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.” 

“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.” 

“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”

Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.” 

“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.” 

“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way? 

You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love. 

When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether? 

“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”

Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.” 

“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”

Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks. 

You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water. 

Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime.  Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still.  Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast.  Your bestest friend, James P.  PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff.  PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius. 

James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.  

You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning. 

You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’. 

It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites. 

And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.

When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him. 

You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read. 

You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all. 

Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’. 

Friday, December 25th

You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl. 

“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again. 

You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments. 

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?” 

The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been. 

Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left. 

Merry Christmas Star Seeker,  Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended!  Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.

You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours. 

Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play,   Love,  The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha. 

You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it:  “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable. 

And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh. 

When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting. 

You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles,  dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily

You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open. 

You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions. 

There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while. 

It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?” 

You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note. 

Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder.  You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts.  AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it.  Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas!  Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend,  Prongs. 

You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant. 

After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first. 

You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself.  Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.

You laughed, he’s not wrong. 

Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean.  As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter.  You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want.  All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift.  Love,  Sirius 

See the letter here

You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered. 

There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel. 

There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French: 

À l'étoile la plus brillante.  Amour, 

And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you. 

Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that. 

You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting. 

Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift. 

As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter. 

Hey there, Little Witch,  Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that.  I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he?  Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own.  Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes.  There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too.  Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it.  Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true.  Love,  Moony.  PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.

See the letter here

By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made. 

He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy. 

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.  

“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve. 

You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to. 

You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents. 

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case. 

You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck. 

One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room. 

“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room. 

You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings. 

“We’ll take the floo?” you asked. 

Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle. 

“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party. 

“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.” 

The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx

Read more Marauders Fiction

[star-fandoms]

LADS REDESIGNS!! + notes

Note: These are solely for fun, nothing wrong with the original designs and I still plan on drawing their original designs!

I used the Linkon Chibi Report cover because I couldn't be bothered to actually draw them all, my bad LMAO Here's the link to the Love and Deepspace twitter where I got it: https://x.com/Love_Deepspace

THE ART IS NOT MINE, JUST THE REDESIGNS!!(Which even then were highly inspired by the new Valentines cards!)

XAVIER

(His hair is 100% inspired by his "Deluded Fiction card.)

Uh but yeah, as for WHY I decided to go with this design, it has a bit to do with his lore. Please correct me if I get anything wrong, I'm not super aware of everything lore related(Esp not with Xavi's, too focused on Zayne and Caleb :,< )

But Xavier has been traveling for a while, and I think over time he would stop really caring about his appearance, more focused on defeating wanderers and trying to protect the mc.

I also feel like he'd eventually cut his hair again and brush it! So his longer hair is more so an early game thing lol

I also just love the idea of chronic bed head Xavier. Like I imagine his to be a still sleeper, but I think it'd be funny that no matter how still he sleeps, his hair just gets messy again LOL

I just felt like eyebags fit Xavier a lot. I also gave him a mole! I thought his face felt empty without a mole and for some reason I just keep thinking he has one and then I look at him and I'm shocked he doesn't have one LOL But I also think the whole "Your moles are where your lover kissed you most in your past life" soulmate thingy. I think it'd be cute if Daye(one of my mc's. But I think it'd be cute to see moles on where other's mc's kiss Xavier the most!) was a cheek kisser in every timeline.

I think it's like...pretty impossible for Xavier NOT to have a single scar, no matter how good he is right now. I honestly feel that way about most the men(Other then Zayne since he has scars) but like Xavi's a hunter and ur telling me I can't find a single scar on his body?? So I gave him one on his jaw and one on the corner of his mouth! There's multiple more scattered around his body as well!

Speaking of his body, I think he'd have a sleeper build LOL!! Just for those who don't know, a sleeper build is when someone doesn't look strong and doesn't have obvious muscle, but they're strong and the muscle is hidden. I mainly chose this cause of the name LOL

I also gave him heterochromia, I just thought it would look nice LOL

RAFAYEL

I made the tips of his fingers blue, I did think about red and I might try that honestly, but it's because he's a Lemurian. I wanted something kinda subtle to show that(Its not that subtle with Raf though since he's an artist and uses his hands LOL)

I did also give him longer hair and I wanted to keep it fluffy! I might also mess around with a bit more wavy hair! I also made one of his little side bangs just a bit longer for some asymmetry, I wanted to add hair clips but decided against actually drawing it in the end!

I also added a teal streak to his hair. I already like Raf's design so I wasn't really sure what to change, so this just seemed a little fun. I think its like a little artistic streak.

Raf does NOT have muscles, don't even play with me. No matter what the game shows, Raf will always be a little stick that I can pick up.

I also think that Raf might have a few tattoos! Not too many, I think he'd cry getting every tattoo cause it all hurts him. But I also think he would like to see his own body as kind of a canvas(This is also something that I do to myself and others. I love painting on myself and other people) That said I think after a while Raf probably decided against getting anymore tattoos and just doodles and paints on his body, he also likes that he gets to change it up more.

ZAYNE

okay...I prommy I wasn't going to originally give Zayne longer hair. I think the short and clean look suits Zayne and his personality well. But also...I think it's really fun to kind of imagine liking having long hair(A little throwback to "Master of Fate")

Anyways, Zayne with some of his hair tied back is WOOOOO MAMA!! I do wanna play around with a little ponytail too, which is what I think he'd actually do while performing surgeries.

I did give him eyebags as well. Bro works super late sometimes and struggles with nightmares and insomnia, yeah he has eyebags.

I didn't change too much about Zayne honestly. I was thinking about adding glasses permanently but also decided against that. Though I do really like Zayne in glasses so I wanna draw him in them more, I just also hate drawing glasses.

SYLUS

okay...most notably, Sylus has the longest hair! I don't know why but for some reason I always remembered his dragon form having long hair, which it literally doesn't. Anyways, long fluffy mullet Sylus supremacy idk. LOL

^ his hair also has a bit of a red gradient. I didn't want it to be too obvious, but his hair felt a little lacking without it!

Also I gave his arms a dark red gradient, I also think he'd have claws I just didn't draw them. These are also because...half dragon. I know they aren't the hands he had as a dragon, but I wanted them to be more human.

It's so subtle, but I gave him fangs.

I didn't even think about it but I might mess around with slightly pointed ears. a more subtle touch to show he's not human.

I did also think about giving him little horns and wings, but decided against that. I also decided again red streaks on his hair and landed on the gradient instead.

CALEB

Caleb is one of them I'm STICKING with long hair for. He looks so good with a mullet I feel like I belong in a psyche ward.

I gave him little white streaks in his hair, It's supposed to be heat damage but aesthetic from the ✨explosion✨ once again, not really meant to be realistic at all.

Its also so subtle, but I traced one of his pupils with red because I think it'd be even more tragic is Caleb had lost an eye and it got replaced with a mechanic one, like his arm. I think it'd be useful for scanning people and recording their actions too. And I think it'd also be tragic if his vision was warped from this eye, like it doesn't really view properly. I'd have to draw out what I mean eventually cause I don't think I'm making any sense.

i didn't do it but god, him having a little slit in his brow would be so good too, with like a little scar there.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my silly little redesigns! Once again the art I edited belongs to Love and Deepspace!

[koskela-knights]

Female characters in AW2

Back in October I made a somewhat coherent observation post about masculinity in AW2 so now I'm back, pondering about the female characters in AW2 + Night Springs DLC (I still haven't fully finished watching the Lake House DLC so I can't comment on Diana Marmont or any further characterization of Estevez)

General: I like that Remedy doesn't really sexualize their female characters in AW2. No unnecessary fanservice/eye candy shots. They all wear practical clothes that still feel like they personally picked them. Although I feel most of the women aren't overtly hyperfemme dressed with Rose being the only one who has more typically feminine traits. If you'd put them on a binary scale of masc to femme i think most of them would fall somewhere in the middle.

I think there really should be more female characters though. There are really only 3 main female characters (Saga, Rose & Estevez) and then a few minor characters (Mandy-May, Charline, Tammy, in a way even Cynthia Weaver) of whom some we don't even really see (Logan only as audio and a pic, Charline is in a full body costume)

There are like 11 female characters (with an actual appearance & some importance) to 22 male characters of various importance.

Saga: The way too often forgotten dual protagonist of the sequel. I think she's a well rounded, likable character. She is a seasoned FBI agent taking the literal lead on the case in Bright Falls. She has a special gift (her Mind Place). She's a mom. Despite many obstacles, she overcomes them both physically (in combat) and mentally (case solving in her mind Place but also near the end when she's in the DP, overcoming her own uncertainties and fears). I wouldn't put her in the 'Mary Sue' category or her being 'a GirlBoss^tm' at all.

Early on, it seems the Deputies undermine Saga's status as they first address Casey, assuming he is the main lead of the case instead of Saga.

As the narrative evolves and Logan's life is endangered, her daughter becomes one of her main motivations to put an end to the nightmarish story. In her Mind Place you also see a card from her mother & the mom mug. It seems she had a difficult relation with her mom and often also worries she may not be good enough a mother to Logan. The latter made even more obvious when she's in the DP and self doubt begins to consume Saga.

Race wise, she is one of the few people of color in the game. The game doesn't really dive into this aspect of Saga, except early on with her meeting the Deputies and the remark that she defends the Bookers because 'they stick to their kind'' + in the Dark Place when she's in her MP "Another white asshole deciding what I get to do, how I get to do it." While some people brushed this aside as 'forced' or racist (lmao rly???) I think this was a justified thing for her to think. Whether this was during a despairful moment or not. While not touched upon really in the game, I think it's safe to say that Saga has endured racism and racist microaggressions as a Black woman in her work life and day to day life. (and on a meta level too with fans and GamerBros attacking the character and whining about reverse racism becos that one line she has about 'white assholes deciding what i get to do')

(Finally, and others have made posts about this before, I think it's a damn shame that despite Saga being a literal protagonist, gets not many spotlights or fanart dedicated to her by the fandom and even Remedy themselves. And sadly, I don't see much new art/fanfic being made of her. I fear that as time goes on, the fandom and Remedy might forget Saga as a character even more.)

Alice Wake: We don't see that much of her other than those scattered video fragments. She's clearly struggling with the loss of Alan and the hauntings of Alan/Scratch which is reflected in her dark clothes. Funnily enough, in the concept art we see her in slightly brighter more patterned colors and textures.

Rose Marigold: I think Rose is the female character most associated with typical femininity. Appearance-wise: makeup, the pink/reddish waitress outfit (even more saturated in the DLC) and job-wise: being a waitress and nurse. She has an outgoing, expressive nature which is even more highlighted in Night Springs. She still is clearly a fangirl and we even find some fanfic of hers through the Casey lunchboxes. However, she also is unfiltered, somewhat brash and knows how to wield a shotgun/fire weaponry. Something that isn't always allowed for female characters to have.

Kiran Estevez: Another new female character introduced as a competent FBC agent who abruptly takes over Saga's case. She's the lead of her team and has a pretty no nonesense attitude in the main game (saying again, I havent seen the Lake House DLC). She's practical but shows some dry humor when talking to Saga and Casey after the DP attack on the station. I think she's also one of the first openly queer character in any Remedy Game? And I like how casual this was shown to us by her mentioning her ex-wife.

Baba Jakala: We only see her in the short movie Yötön Yö. In the first game, Barbara Jagger appears as an antagonistic character who was once victim to the Dark Presence who now possesses her skin.

Baba in YY is described as the widow of the writer Veikko and she seems to want to resurrect her dead husband through the violent ritual. She somewhat acts as a femme fatale to Kesä: seducing him, playing into his reignited desire to be with her and drugs him for the ritual. Afterward, she acts violently, joining Ilmari (and Seine) in the brutal murder of Kesä. I can't help but notice that she mainly appears pretty throughout it all, though she manically laughs as she stabs Kesä to death but it's not in the same ugly, manic way Ilmari is allowed to kill Kesä or even Seine whose facial features are mainly covered by his hair, but is seen drooling in like a mili second frame.

Cynthia Weaver: Personally, I feel like she was done dirty as a character. I can't say much about the gameplay of her boss level, but it was nice to have a female boss fight too. One being an elderly woman at that (and again, without some weird objectification that many other games often fail in, even when it comes to villains the women have to be Sexy^tm) I feel she's a bit of a fridged (or rather drowned) woman in this story which is sad to me because she was such an odd mentor-like type in the first game. Now, very much stripped of her previous traits.

Mandy-May: I really liked her character and her banter with Norman. I just do lol. I feel she and the other nursing home residents gave more life to the game by being characters. Minor as they may be.

Tammy Booker: We don't see much of her save for the introduction scene and her echoes in the DP. I like her attitude and her dynamic with Ed from the brief interactions we see in the main game and I wish we could've seen more. Tammy also being a writer could've been an interesting jumping point for including them a bit more into the main story other than being the 'tutorial' intro characters.

And as always, feel free to add your own thoughts and views on characters in reblogs or comments or DMs ^^

[fantasticalleigh]

I saw your reblog about asks and then you gave me an ask and I realised I've never asked you anything before so I sprinted over here to reciprocate the favour (and now I'm a little out of breath because my cardio is shocking!).

So... my main problem as an artist is having a thousand ideas popping into my head but not being able to put even a fraction of them on paper - if you have the same problem, would you like to share any of those ideas??

haha aw, thank you! and same about the cardio 😰

this is a really interesting question!

I struggle with the exact same problem tbh, it's always really hard wrangling so many ideas! I wish I had some like groundbreaking tips to help manage this but my methods are pretty basic:

-as ideas come, i try to write them down (i usually fail at this) but if it's a good idea it will stick in my mind for days or even weeks, so when i get the chance i will sketch something out. it usually turns out really bad but that's ok bc it's just to get the barest essence of the idea, and i'll write down the actual idea down on the paper or canvas of whatever i'm working on so i can decipher that later. (i like to have a good bunch of these drafts ready at any given time so i can pick and choose what to work on next once i complete something)

-this one might not apply to everyone, but: i cycle between a few different art styles. sometimes it depends on what brushes i use, or if i know i want something to be a casual sketch, a whole sketchpage, or an illustration. it also depends on knowing how much time i want to spend on it. faster drawings done with my favorite chunky pen in a more cartoonish style usually rank higher in order of what to work on, because i know i can finish it in a few days (or even hours). stuff that's more detailed/rendered is lower on the list of execution because i know it'll take longer to finish because of details and the linework, and that i'll definitely want to take breaks from that one to work on the faster ones. (i have two pieces for Bad Blood i've been working on for MONTHS now bc they have so much detail and i still don't know when they'll be done lol, just chipping away at them bit by bit)

-sometimes, depending on what art projects i'm currently working on, i won't get a chance to actually develop that new idea until much later on. or maybe i try and just don't feel into it anymore. in that case i try to just focus on something else. i usually have about four or more other art ideas in various stages of completion to work on in rotation which has really helped. and then some days i really don't feel like working on one particular thing and want to work on another, but i compromise with myself that if i get decent progress done on one then i'll switch to the other after a point. just as a little treat :3

i also think a large part of managing all these ideas is accepting that some of them will just never be made. every now and then i go through my procreate files and delete drafts that i know i'll never actually draw. either because i don't love the idea anymore, have no time, i don't think i can execute it well, or just pure laziness.

it kind of sucks but it's just the way things go, and the ideas keep coming anyway so it's not like that's the end of the line if you decide to toss a few out the window! (ESPECIALLY considering we draw a lot of wwe based art and since it's a weekly show there's just so much more potential for new art every few days.) it's great to be able to get anything out at all tbh! i do feel a lot of pressure sometimes that i have to get things out as fast as possible but it does work as a great motivator and i'm just always so excited to see what everyone else is working on and posting! it's a very inspiring environment.

this turned out so long, but i hope it helps! :D

[holycorrupt]

if you have the time/energy to elaborate, what's your process like for coloring stuff you ink traditionally? i've figured out a few different methods over the years, but i generally stick to fully digital or traditional for a piece, so i'm curious to see how you do it! :0

This is such a fun question for me because I get to both ramble about my art process and have an excuse to throw some colors on this Breloom I drew ages ago.

I use Clip Studio Paint and an Ipad for my digital stuff so I'll be referring to the processes on that but I'm sure there is a work around for other programs as well :^)

I scan my traditional art at 400dpi because it's always easier to work bigger with digital stuff and resize it smaller then the other way around :^)

So here's our raw scan, which already looks very decent but when I want to color something I like for everything to be much cleaner/sharper/more contrast-y and to get rid of the noise from the paper texture lmao. A well lit photo will also do the job because that's what I did for many years before getting my scanner but tbh if you're a traditional -> digital artist like myself a scanner is like a best friend you can buy HAHA

First things first, I apply a Gradient Map Layer > New Correction Layer > Gradient Map

Clip has a really nice black and white map preinstalled but I made myself a custom map just by pushing the black and white a little closer, it completely clears up all the noise and makes everything really crisp! Make sure you check on your lines when adjusting things because super fine feather lines can sometimes be lost if you make the contrast too high. Extra tip! If you want to make Graphite Pencil or Ball Point Pen really nice looking as well, just add a dark grey point in the gradient map closer to the black then middle...works perfectly :^)!!

This is the point I look for stray pixels, cat hairs, ect and make sure to erase any surrounding doodles or sketches I don't want included.

GOD DAMN Those lines are CRISP-Y!!!

Next up we're going to want to go Edit > Convert brightness to opacity

Tbh If I didn't have this method idk what I would do with myself.... I've tried the whole "Lineart on top layer set to multiply" Method and ...ehh....

Now that I have a nice transparent line art I'll stick a new white layer down below it because the checker pattern hurts my eyes LOL

I'm going to add a read more here since this post is getting lengthy haha

I'm going to quickly go over the style I use for MTE! It has been refined to be quicker and easier to do since you know...I have a week time limit per page ... 😭 I have a completely different way I do colors for other things I want to spend more time on but I might explain that one in the future...I'm running out of steam tonight LOL

I use this really awesome brush pack that has a pencil like texture and I love it to bits...here's a link to it if your interested!

At this point I might add some overlay layers or play around with an airbrush but I think this guys done for now :^) I tend to stay away from highlights with my shading for MTE..My biggest goal is to make sure everything is clear and readable! That being said I break my own rules all the time for special panels that need the extra 'oomf!'

Slap a lazy square background and yay!! He's done!

Hope this was interesting aaaa Thank you again for the ask!!

[scottuminga]

Greetings to my Fans, Family, Friends, Followers and Fellow Artists. Thanks for sticking around me this year. In regards to updating my socials. I find that I tried to get into a groove. But with things changing it might have been put on the back burner. I really hope to document and share with the world more of what interests me, and the pieces I create. There’s also a restlessness in me that wants to find communities and circles that share these fascinations. I was talking to my cousin the other day, and I mentioned how the year went by and spent time waiting. But realized during those periods of quiet, that there was time for me to do things I wanted to create for myself. I’ll make sure to seize these moments without pressure to really go forward.

Some reflection notes from 2023. I found I added at least a few more 3d Elements and particles into my art. And building my own codex of shapes has excited my psyche. It's like a new set of brushes that gives a twist to my body of tools. I hope to make more traditional illustrations and drawings with poetic ties, because I think I’ve been separating my own arts for most of my life. And I really want to just say “This is all part of me”.

I’m going to jinx myself. But with the year nearing an end. I find there were events and synchronicities that have been frequenting me like it did pre covid. And there have been moments where my schedule and things in life just end up being at the right time, or happens right after another. There are times I get anxious leading up to these things and when the time comes, it all just comes out fine. And I’m relieved that it happened. I really want to remember, cherish and carry these 2023 moments of feeling adventurous and comfortable again.

I want to think 2024 will become a significant year. And I’m going to really try exercising that creative muscle and produce whatever comes to mind. Remember to go at your own pace, and also reach out to those important to you and the ones who made and make life exciting. <3Scott.

[namelessmewmew]

Old Art Archive Part 5.

Original captions under the cut.

1 - 3. Title: Petals, Sparkles and Unicorns [+ bonus of the other two pieces I have of her, that also happen to be old, left being newest of said two]. More csp testing stuff. Went a bit ham with its built in decoration brushes, Petal Brush, Grass Brush, Sparkle Brush [There's even a glitter brush, which I'm sure I will use at least a few times] ……. Happy enough with how this came out. Def need to draw her more.

4. Title: The Heart of My Eye. Uni stuff has been getting more hectic so haven't been able to draw as much [and what I have been drawing has been stuff that won't see the light of day until late this year probably]. Had the idea of a loveletter head character so just made this in csp, don't really like how this came out but oh well. Also probably going to redesign them a bit whenever I draw them again.

5. Title: The Imp Stick. Redesigned Nameless because I wanted to make him more self indulgent [I like horns, imp tails and faceshadows alot]. Used my usual method of exporting each frame as a image and then throwing them into ezgif, I think I should learn how to use clips built in animation abilities.

6. Title: Don't cry over spilt glitter. Uni work busy and hard, and been making a bunch of stuff I don't to post yet so dipped into my favourite thing, aka redesigning "old" characters [like it as much as designing new ones].

7. Title: Kitty Kitty Cat. Just a little cat, shes actually a pretty old character of mine, just redesigned her recently. I really need to draw and post more often.... Sort of like how the shading came out by I'm still kinda shit at it Might draw some more cause I have alot of old animal characters to redesign.

8. Title: Old Gay Cat named Juliet. Another cat laby, this time Sarah's mom, Juliet! Shes also been redesigned but not as much as Sarah. Going to do Sarah's other mom next [which until recently didn't have a design at all but still working on it a bit] Really like how the pose of this came out [still iffy on the shading though..]

9. Title: 2022 Pride Icon. New Icon/Pride Icon [might use this after pride month and just swap out the bg, or might a new one later].  and yes I used a very similar pose to my last upload, I just liked how it looked so used it again. Happy Pride Everyone!

10. Title: Filters and Fingerguns. I have been trying to draw more stuff lately :], liking the stuff I have been making, especially like how the hair and eyes of this came out of this came out :3. The character here is Eve, Juliet's wife and Sarah's second mom.

11. Title: Smiles and Glitter. I know I should be drawing the characters I have already more hut I really like designing new characters..... k? and felt like  I needed another sparklecat....[I need more sparkle anything really] Also tried to emulate the look of those old blingee? gifs and it looks okay enough. Going to try to figure out how to do it better.

12. Title: Metamorphosis. Yeah another bright sparkly cat.....a character I have actually been thinking about designing for month's,  A trans flag coloured lynx with a lil golden bell that shines like a rainbow in the light. A mascot-y character that's meant to idk be anti-thesis to how big corps pretend to like us during pride months by just changing their logos to rainbow and selling overpriced pride merch, then just change their logos back and don't do anything more about it for the rest of the year, I guess? Like a mascot thats undeniably queer in colours and otherwise I guess. My brain feels a bit slow and foggy right now right now so I might not be articulating well.

13. Title:  Splat. Haven't posted here for a month and lost steam for artfight not long into it [will post attacks I did once month is over], but I did make my first game, a rpgmaker game that is about 10 to 15 minute rpgmaker game for a mini jam. Thought maybe I should post about here at least once, https://namelessmewmew.itch.io They technically can be named whatever by the player but I wanted to give me a 'true' name as well, so here is Splat./colour-less

14. Title: 'Fuck you! Catboys your Demon'. I can't just not put my sona/main character though multiple redesigns/design updates, I wouldn't be NamelessMewMew, if I didn't! Going the opposite route in terms of adding things to his design lol compared to my old sona [casanova, a cat like creature that I added demon features to, I need to redesign them again at some point.] I need to learn how to draw stubble properly... and also maybe change the eyes a bit, you looks kinda uh high rather than just tired.

15. Title: Aging. Just feels weird, so a little doodle thing.

16 - 17. Title:   Prancing in the night. Wanted to start another art practice dump to practice shading, decided to do my personal characters to motivate me more but then got really into it and added more  and more shading/lighting, then thought this would look very stupid without a bg, then added lighting to that bg and then wanted the stars to sparkle.... [which I hope loads as its not loading in the preview I'm seeing now] yeah I guess I can make this its own deviation. The bg is a bit mid quality but I'm glad I did because I don't do proper bgs much, but I do really love how the Plushie came out in this, especially the pose [and shading]. Though the gif site I use makes transparency kinda uh line-y? Basically the lighting and shading looks smoother than this originally, though I don't mind how it looks

Anime Girl Art Dump:

Title:  Art Practice: 1. Ramble-y stuff: Been in a hating my art phrase because there's lots of parts of art I'm not great with, shading, anatomy, perspective, backgrounds..... so forth But can't get myself practice without also posting it but also it has to be good enough to post [when I feel my art is bad then I feel like I can't waste the time spent on it by not posting it but I also feel like I'm somehow a bad person for being bad at art]..... so going try to do dumps like this where I try to focus on certain things. Hopefully I can improve at least a bit this year. About the art: This is mostly Hair Shading + Faces + Eyes Practice, but also tried to draw various different hairstyles. Want to do more experimenting with how I draw eyes and hair...

Hands and Eyes Art Dump:

Title:  Art Practice: 2. More art practice, this time hands [done mostly by memory and a bit by using my hands as ref] + eyes [more just the irises and pupils rather than eyes as a whole]. Like where I am getting with eyes but really need to work on hands alot more.... Can't think of anything else to say really cause tired... other than its 4 days till I'm 20 which is wild.

[dearestones]

The Art of Romance (Hacker x M! Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, established relationship, Hacker just wants to impress you but doesn’t think he’s doing a good job being romantic, slight Swindler x Courier, Valentine’s  Day themed. 

@mondgewalt Request: HELLOOO, i saw your requests are open so i thought i might take advantage of that 💪🏻

could i request a romantic fluff scenario for hacker with a male reader? (though gender neutral is also fine!) i‘m fine with any scenario tbh, i leave that up to you haha

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Hacker is not one to quibble about the fine arts. In general, he is ruled by logic and rules, be it if he’s playing in one of his video games, hacking into a government database, or if he’s trying to finagle his way into getting free food from Swindler. There’s this sense of satisfaction he alone can feel when he manages to outwit authority by jumping through loopholes no one else can see. 

It’s fulfilling. 

With art like poetry and painting, it’s a lot harder to see what rules dictate how and why someone should use certain brushes or different strokes, what words or grammar would be best utilized to make a point. For someone like Hacker, art doesn’t make sense. Art is subjective; it is what you make of it and Hacker can’t quite recall what makes art… art. 

Sure, he has some taste (why else has he designed his droids to look as cute as they can be?), but he depends more on practicality than aesthetics. Back when he used to attend school, whenever there were projects that called for artistic expression, Hacker had simply bribed one of his classmates to do it for him. 

There was value in art, to be sure, but it simply wasn’t for him. 

It didn’t make sense and what didn’t make sense, Hacker either endeavored to understand it better or pretend that it did not exist. After all, when playing a game, one expected to win. But if you were always losing because you couldn’t understand the rules, well… Then it’s not worth playing in Hacker’s opinion. 

Today, however, Hacker was willing to give art a chance. 

You see, while Hacker wasn’t keen on playing a game that would result in a loss for him, he cannot deny that you were special. Hacker was no hedonist, but he liked sticking to things that he was usually good at: computer programming, logic puzzles, and hacking. There were, of course, a plethora of other interests that he could entertain, but those exemplified his technological skills more than any other. With you, however, there was this underlying sense of wanting to better himself. 

To be a person that was more than just a hacker living in a dingy apartment with no (legal) prospects in the future. 

(That in itself was almost more of a challenge than the fact that Hacker was willing to forgo all sense in rules and logic in favor of… art.

And what Hacker thought challenging, he inevitably knew was going to be fun).

So, on one fine Tuesday afternoon (the date of which he claimed was nondescript and ordinary), Hacker had requested that you meet him at a mutual friend’s house. You accepted, thinking that maybe you and your boyfriend were going to hang out with Swindler. There was a new anime that had come out a few days ago, and you knew that Swindler was sometimes too busy with the Seal Center to get herself up to date. 

Yet, when you arrived at Swindler’s middle class apartment, you found that it was only inhabited by you, Hacker, and a series of ingredients sitting innocently on the counter. 

(Well, Swindler was there in the beginning, but it was to make clear that you were in charge, the both of you weren’t allowed to burn down her apartment, and that if you—not Hacker, you—made something edible, you would have to save some for her.

Swindler also made sure to spend the last few moments teasing Hacker before goodnaturedly ruffling his blond hair and then leaving.

You would later find out that she spent the rest of the day with Courier, but that’s another story for another day). 

When you had asked why he wanted to bake with you, he simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try out the wonders of culinary arts. Swindler was fairly proficient at it (as evidenced by her vast array of pots and pans and the quality ingredients that rested on her counter), but he was itching for a challenge. Baking required specific instructions, but if one were to modify the recipe, even the smallest change could drastically alter the final product. 

Baking, he explained, was a science that was imbued with artistic intent. 

And that was how the past hour or so went. 

The both of you would take turns reading the instructions, measuring ingredients, and then mixing it all together. There were times when you swore that he was having fun, only for you to peer closer and see that his cheeks were flushed with confusion at a certain line in the instructions or his eyes heavy with discontent. A while ago, you had caught him accidentally dropping a few eggshells into a bowl, but thankfully, you caught him. In the moment, you laughed it off, but thinking back on it, Hacker seemed to wilt as he plucked the offending pieces of shell into the bin. 

Have you done something wrong? 

“Are you sure you’re fine?” You tried to wipe off flour from your shirt, but only succeeded in spreading it further into the fabric. Laughing a little to yourself, paused a moment to take a look at Hacker, only to find that your boyfriend was slumped over the table, his head lolling about as if he were boneless. 

Like you, Hacker was splattered with bits of flour. He had taken his cybernetic eyepatch off so that the internal components wouldn’t get damaged by the process, but he kept his hat firmly attached to his head. Once, when you were still getting to know him, you had asked if he used hairpins, but he had given you the world’s nastiest look that you bit the inside of your cheek from laughing. 

(You did manage to find a few hairpins on his desk during the first few times you visited his apartment, but he swore that they were Swindler’s). 

Hacker gave you a noncommittal grunt that you decided must have meant that he was either still salty that his baking skills weren’t up to par with yours or that he was still suffering from the teasing Swindler had given him before she left. You pulled up a chair beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. Although his personality could go from teasing to cold and analytical at times, his body ran rather warm. His jacket was soft, but you found, when you ran your fingers through his hair, that it was softer. 

It was a miracle his hair was as healthy and as clean as it was considering the state of his apartment. 

“Come on,” you cooed. 

You sat up straight and gently guided Hacker by the chin to look up at you. As you gazed down at him, an unfamiliar emotion seemed to swell and swallow the light in his eyes. Normally, his eyes were glacial blue: cold, but entrancing to look at. Now, they seemed to darken like storm clouds moments before furious rain. 

Concerned now, you pulled him closer so that it was his head that was resting on your chest. Hearing your heartbeat must have been enough because moments later, you finally heard him speak. 

The thing about Hacker was that while he would talk and brag online all he wanted, in real life he was fairly introverted. Sure, he would be sassy and quick witted among those he considered friends, but he mostly kept to himself. If he did speak without prompting, it was mostly to tease or to talk about his hobbies in great length. It was rare for him to sound emotional. 

“I’m not good at this… whatever this is.” He waved his hand as if trying to gesture at something tangible. 

“And what’s that?”

Hacker released a long, heaving breath before allowing his face to fall into the fabric of your shirt. “This relationship? This…” He made a light gagging noise, but continued anyway, “Romance?”

The way he said it… You weren’t sure why, but you felt your heart drop at his words. When you thought about it, his actions today were worrying and the fact that it was today of all days? Could this be…?

“Are… Is this…” You pursed your lips as the worst came to mind. He wouldn’t… would he? Still, despite what doubts you had clouding your perception, you had to ask. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No!” Hacker reared away from your chest, his hands landing on your shoulders as if anchoring you down so that he could face you without fear of your running away. “Of course not! Why would—” He shook his head before allowing his hands to drift down your shoulders before interlacing his fingers with yours. “I’m not good with… Feelings.”

“That’s a given.”

He shot you a faux nasty look before softening his gaze. “Well, I’m not a very romantic person, but I thought that I could… try and do something nice, I guess. So, I thought that on a special day like this—”

“So, you did know it was Valentine’s Day!” 

Another nasty look was delivered, this time a glare, before he flicked your nose. “��I could try and do something nice. For you. But…” 

Before he could look away from you again, one of your hands cupped his cheek. Silently, you marveled at how soft his skin was, how his breath gently stuttered from his lips. What caught your attention the most, though, was the faint glow of pink that spread across his cheeks and coated the shells of his ears. If you weren’t so intent on soothing Hacker’s feelings, you would have teased him. 

“But?”

“I… I’m just not good at it.” He opened his mouth as if to say something more, closed it, and then thought better of it. “Computers, puzzles… It’s all logical. There are rules that you must follow, certain expectations that must be filled. The same could be said for relationships, but I don’t think I understand it at all.”

He sucked in a deep breath and when he released it, his entire body looked like it was deflating. “It’s like I’m playing a game where I know how it should end, but the rules are confusing and there’s no guarantee that I’ll win.”

Your heart broke when his face fell, glacial blue eyes welling with emotions that he clearly did not want to confront. 

“Hey… Just because you’re not good at baking or poetry or whatever else you think makes up the crux of romantic activities doesn’t mean that I don’t like you any less.” You paused before emphasizing, “That I don’t love you any less.” You leaned in close and rested your forehead against his. Here, with little distance to separate the two of you, you could almost pretend that Hacker was the only living thing left. That your entire world was solely him. “Love is confusing, I’ll admit that and I struggle with it too! But what matters is that you put effort into something that you don’t normally do. Preparing a romantic date like this? Baking? Surviving Swindler’s teasing? You didn’t have to go this far.”

“But I did.”

“You did and that’s what makes all of this—” You pointed at Swindler’s oven and the mess that spawned atop her kitchen countertop. “—special. You don’t have to be skilled or overly romantic to-to…” You felt a small, sly smile on your face as you regarded your now suspicious boyfriend. A thought had just occurred to you and by the gods of Kansai, you wanted to know if your theory was correct. “Did you do all of this to impress me?”

Hacker rolled his eyes, pressed a quick kiss on your nose, and then hopped off his chair. “I’m going to clean the counters before Swindler comes back and starts complaining.”

“Hey! You didn’t answer my question! Hacker!” He pointedly ignored you as he began wiping down the countertops with a dishrag. “At least kiss me again, you tease!”

At that exclamation, Hacker turned around and gave you the world’s cockiest grin. Coming from Hacker, it was like he was looking at a particularly challenging video game that he had yet to best. “You want a kiss? Then come get it.”

It took several minutes, a few overturned chairs, and a bag of flour, but you got your kiss.

(You also got a huffed explanation that Swindler had told your loving boyfriend that he should do something special for Valentine’s Day instead of gaming together. That led to your incredulous laughter before you told him that it didn’t matter. As long as the both of you were together, it was time worth spending).

Later on, when Swindler came home with flushed cheeks and a few take out boxes filled with takoyaki, she would tell the both of you that the cookies you made were horrible. 

It was okay. You and Hacker planned on baking a new batch another day. 

(And if that didn’t work out, the both of you could watch that new anime just to spoil Swindler on your next date). 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

AKUDAMA DRIVE MASTERLIST

[lime-sketches114]

Hello everyone! It's me back at it again with another Flash & Sindri post!

If I keep doing these I might have to give y'all a few art pieces maybe hm? I'll think on it!

But for some context of this fanfic idea! This idea stems from a cultural tradition/act of kindness from the Draken culture (and maybe Dwarven equivalent idk) of others would groom their scales as a sign of affection or friendliest towards each other (like birdos picking pin feathers!) And if you're lucky enough to be an outsider, you might get a purr out of em. (This also works for dragons! They love scratches!!!)

Anyways! Onwards to a germaphobe dwarf and sassy dragon lady bonding time!

Rose Petal Scales

{An OC × Sindri Fanfic}

{Flash × Sindri}

Warnings: {Possible} Germaphobia/OCD, insecurities, Anxiety, Depression, Old Scars, "censored cursing", etc.

Rating: Fluffy with a ginger snap cookie {some topics may be suggestive or sensitive due to nature/wording, you have been warned, mostly mild} {Just trying to embrace the character roles!}

★★★★★★★★★

{Flash's pov}

It has been about a year or so since I've been living with the Huldra brothers. Living has been getting easier due to not being starved or hunted 24/7. Getting new clothes and a room to live in with these crafty dwarves was just the tip of the iceberg. They've done a lot for me...they reminded me of my family and friends I've grown to long for. Since then my hair has grown from a long fuzz to a shaggy cut almost to my shoulders. My hair grows pretty fast...so do my scales and I've been shedding and itching a lot more recently.

I made my way downstairs where I saw some of my fallen scales on the work bench. Brok and Sindri were bickering over the properties or the mass quantities of scales that just pop up out of no where. I trudged to the kitchen area and grabbed an apple. I took a bite which seemed to pull their attention out their asses.

"You...you loungin' piece of s**t!" Brok growled at me, "Your scales have been annoying as of recently and they're every f**king where!"

"Not my fault my scales grow fast, blame my mother, now sod off...I have a hangover..." I spat back at him.

"Why I 'otta-" Brok went to throw some scap-slag at me before Sindri frantically tried to calm him down.

"Both of you! Calm down! No need for violence!" He squeaked out.

"What?! You taking 'er side huh? You's been complainin about her scales being everywhere and not once'ya think to talk about fixin' the problem!"

"I-I'm getting to that Brok!" Sindri sighed then cleared his throat. He turned to look at me and all he saw was a scowled frown upon my face.

"Can't handle me huh? It's hard when you don't have anyone else to help clean you because of scars! I try my best and I give them to you guys to make armor and weapons! You guys are taking me for granted!" I hissed as I jumped to the second floor without a second thought.

"Flash Wait-!" Sindri called out to me but I already shut the door to the bathing room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I laid in the warm waters of the tub. Soaking my aching scales to help maybe loosen them. I saw a few float up here and there but it wasn't enough. I used brushes on sticks, a pumice stone, everything nearby to get them off. Every scale that floated in front of me relayed memories from my past.

Some happy....some not...

One stuck out the most.

It was of a very dear friend of mine. Her name was Scarlett. She was a Draken like me. One with beautiful red scales and a cute shorter tail. She would pick the more stubborn scales from my back and quipped they looked like rose petals.

I missed her

She was one of the few I ever loved dearly. The only one so far that told me my scaled smelled nice while the other Drakens or races said they smelt of sulfur, burnt wood, or some other nasty thing.

She was my first....and my last...

At least that's what I thought....

Almost every night I wake up to the nightmare that happened. Her voice still calling for me to run. Her screams. Her last breath.

I wiped tears from my eyes as I softly cried. The memories still stinging my mind. I sat up and drained the water from my hair. It dried pretty quickly once I took a fluffy towel to it. I took a sniff of the towel and it smelt like Sindri. The fresh linen cloth smell with a hint of ashen soot from the forge.

I could feel my ears wiggle and turn red.

Why his dumb face....?

I quickly shot up from the bath and cleaned it out of scales. I put them in a bucket next to the door. I got dressed in some clean pants and a undershirt only combo. When I opened the door I knew they had went off to their rooms. I marched over to Sindri's room and knocked gently.

After a few minutes he opened the door. He wiped sleep from his eyes.

"Flash? Why are you up late?" He yawned.

"I...need your help"

That perked him up a bit, "With what? Is everything alright?"

"I want you to...help with my scales..." I said with a small blush on my face.

"O-Oh but...those can be very messy and-"

"I already cleaned myself, just need extra hands"

Sindri nodded hesitantly and let me into his room. I laid my towel down and laid on it. My back was exposed to him with my top being flowy and short. He could see all the knotted back scales as he sat behind me. He went for his gloves but I spoke up.

"it's easier without them...don't worry about the beasties..."

I could hear the lump in his throat sink into his stomach as he cautiously yet gently placed his calloused hands on my back. His hands steadily yet shakenly moved to all the troublesome scales. One by one they came out until I looked and felt fantastic.

"H-How does it feel? Your scales are quite something. Smell nice too" He complimented as he quickly wiped his hands on the towel. I whipped my head to look at him.

"What do they smell like to you?" I asked creeping a tiny bit closer to him.

"u-uh well...they do have the scent of flowers and what I could pinpoint... alcohol? It smelt sweeter than mead or ale" he answered, "Brok thinks they just smell like rotting flesh and bird droppings to him...or a burnt stew?"

My eyes started to water. A few tears hit the ground until he noticed. He started panicking a bit.

"Y-You ok?! Did what Brok say hurt you?! I-I..." He stammered until I held his bare hands.

"You can smell my scent....does that mean...." I looked into his eyes but my bangs flopped in front of me. I pouted until his hand pulled my hair away from my face and behind my ear.

"I may have done my own research and...yes...thought quite revolting it sounded but I got the message. I've fallen ever since the days when Atreus was younger and when you moved in with us. All those years... I've been a coward..." He bowed his head.

I slowly lifted up his head when I cupped his cheeks. He seemed stiff but slowly melted a bit at my warm touch.

"You're my coward... one who has been by my side along with his stubborn grosser brother...and I wouldn't have it any other way." I placed my forehead against his and purred, "just don't tell Brok I said that"

He chuckled and slowly wrapped his hands around my now velvety soft back. We stare into each other's eyes then all I could feel was his lips on mine for a short while before quickly pulling away and wiping everything on a spare towel I brought. I gently wrapped my clean tail around him gently. Not wanting to let him go.

He may be weird but....

He's my Dwarf

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

[defendersalliance]

Letter from a Villain

for @flashfictionfridayofficial 's prompt #FFF162: The Letter. ~700 words.

I wrote this so it could be read alone, but it’s basically a follow up to this snippet which gives more context on Valentine’s job tracking down the villain

~

The villain’s letter landed on Valentine’s desk three days after he’d escaped custody.

“I’ve heard he can be…more annoying in writing,” Brontide warned. Valentine’s hero co-worker gave the envelope one last glance before returning to his desk.

Valentine sighed and grabbed the envelope. “Has this been checked for poison?” he called. Sure, their branch of the Defenders Alliance was lacking in funding, but that didn’t mean they had to throw caution to the wind.

“You’re the ex-assassin!” Brontide replied. He glanced back and flashed Valentine a grin. “Poisons should be your specialty.”

He did know a thing or two about poison. Probably the reason they’d assigned him Sundew. Unfortunately, carnivorous plants were less up Valentine’s alley, and the villain’s new acid trick had made escape easy when he’d finally been captured after a month’s pursuit.

Valentine gave the envelope a closer look. Its pale green color was unusual, but he couldn’t find any discoloration or warping to suggest the paper was carrying extra ingredients. Still, he slid on his gloves before drawing a letter opener from his desk and tearing in. A pale piece of paper came out with letters typed in dark green ink. 

My dear Valentine, Sundew had written.

Great start. Valentine wondered if it was too late to pick a new hero name. Sticking with the fake last name he’d used as an assassin was…not his first choice. But no one asked him what he wanted when he’d agreed to join the Defenders.

With a heavy sigh, he continued reading.

It was lovely finally seeing your place after so many failed attempts to catch me. But let’s arrange the next date somewhere that isn’t falling apart.

The jab at the West branch made Valentine roll his eyes. Flickering lights and strange puddles, sure. But ‘falling apart’ was a stretch.

An art museum could be fun. I think we have different ideas about what “enjoying a museum” entails, though. I am looking forward to adding to my collection this weekend. And now that I’ve said that, I’m looking forward to imagining you on the streets all night in hopes of running into me. Weather says it’s supposed to rain, and I for one would love to see you drenched and miserable.

With Valentine’s luck, that was exactly how he’d be spending his weekend.

Since I’ll be giving myself the gift of stolen art, I thought I’d give you a gift as well. These seeds are so easy to grow that an amateur like yourself should be able to manage. And before long, you’ll have tomatoes! Or pumpkins. I forgot what I put in the envelope.

Valentine, with the utmost caution, tipped the envelope over his desk. A few small seeds rained onto his paperwork stack. Unlike last time, they didn’t explode into vines or venus flytraps.

Sundew, apparently, anticipated his concerns. And relax. They are ordinary seeds. Not my creations. I grow normal plants, too, in my garden. And I make a pretty good grape wine I’d be happy to share sometime.

Despite the promise that the grapes were grown from the ground, Valentine figured he’d have to pass, given the risk. Sundew’s powers also let him generate plants laced with deadly poison. Or, worse, put people in a hypnotic trance.

Though, Valentine suspected he had a different idea of ‘worse’ than most people.

I’m sure you’ve got work to get back to. I do too. I haven’t forgotten my promise that I’d find your real name, Val. 

Catch me again, and I might grant you the privilege of calling me your rival.

Valentine tossed the letter back on the desk with a huff of annoyance. Why couldn’t his first job as a hero have been a villain with a little less…personality?

He eyed the seeds. They hadn’t been the only thing to fall from the envelope. A fine layer of dirt had scattered on his papers as well. And he’d had enough brushes with forensics to know the value of dirt. Intentionally or not, Sundew had just given Valentine a clue to the location of whatever mountain cottage he was shacking up in.

The question was whether it was an accident, or a trap.

[mrpenguinpants]

Albedo HCs: Coming Home [Christmas Celebration 🎉]

For the Christmas Celebration Requests, please read this [we have 2 more days but I’ll possibly extend the deadline to Jan 10. I’m tackling all the Mondstadt rq first before moving onto Liyue]

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Ohhh, I love idea a lot (might have gone overboard anon haha). No worries about being specific, I love getting specific requests. I just finished a super depressing fic and I’m back at it again. Though I will do my best to make this one happy because that Mona fic hurt me. But I’m glad to hear you love my writing haha 💕💕

I also know nothing about Albedo and have never written this man in my life but I’m going to ignore everything because these are happy hours. I love his man so much so this is some self-indulgent stuff (if you couldn’t tell from the word count) istg hcs have turned into fics just without the dialogue. I took many liberties lol what the hell is formatting?  

Also, shoutout to @asheseiler​​​ A beautiful human being that started chatting with me because we both love Childe haha. But seriously, I appreciate you 💕💕💕

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​​​​  @mikeysbike​​​​​ @unionwitch​​​​ @musekala​​​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​​ @stanzastic​​​ @akaasea​​​ @xoneaboveallx​​​ @adoring-ghost​​​ @asheseiler​​​ @childelover​​

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Albedo HCs: Coming Home

As you finally reached the hill top by the Stone Gate, you could just make out the stone walls of the City of Freedom in Mondstadt. You were almost there and the butterfly’s racing through your stomach only seemed to fly faster. You had been on a long trip away by travelling between Liyue and Inazuma. From practicing your alchemy to finding new secrets, it had been awhile since you last saw Mondstadt. While it had been fun going from place to place and seeing all the new arts and techniques, you couldn’t stop the feeling of loneliness of not having an occasionally smug but talented ash blond companion at your side.

You hadn’t seen Albedo since Master Rhinedottir had left and sent Albedo to Mondstadt with a letter of recommendation. You travelled with him to the City of Freedom but you only stayed for a few nights before you departed to Liyue. Your master had different plans for you and you didn’t know how long your own journey would take but you both promised to stay in touch through letters. 

He was now acting as the Chief Alchemist and Captain of the Investigation Team of the Knights of Favonius. He managed to get a lab from Alice and he even had an assistant named Sucrose. He sent over some sketches for you and even if the bottom half of “Sucrose” was just a stick figure, you were happy that he wasn’t alone and cooped up in his lab all the time. You were, however, worried about these “Klee disasters” but happy that he still had the energy to write to you. At first it was hard, you found yourself talking to the air as if Albedo was still there but even after all these years, you couldn’t help but miss him. The occasional letter you received did help to lighten the mood however and you always made sure to store them carefully.

It seemed that your dapping mood was noticeable because even the ever stoic Zhongli asked if you were okay. He was nice and easy to talk to, even if he had a problem with Mora that you sometimes had to bail him out off, but you trusted him so you explained to him your growing loneliness. Which he simply replied that if you missed someone, you should go see them.

So here you are right outside the gates. The knights at the front were nice enough and let you through with ease once they checked that you didn’t have anything destructive. Now the hard part was actually finding Albedo. The knights had mentioned that despite being a highly respectable alchemist and one of the Captains, no one really knew where he was most of the time. Originally, you were thinking of planning some sort of surprise, even had made an entire game plan, but now that you were here. You just wanted to tackle the man, pride be damned.

You began to wander around the city, in comparison to Liyue it was quite small but so much more lively and warm. Christmas was right around the corner so everyone was rushing around hanging up lights and finding presents but it was nice. Everyone seemed to know each other and unlike Liyue, you didn’t need to be afraid if the walls were listening. You looked around for a man with bright teal eyes and ashy light blond hair, even asking around, but no luck. No one seemed to know where he was and if he was even in Mondstadt right now. You were beginning to loose hope and that your trip might have been in vain when you felt a small tap on your shoulder and-

Sweet jesus, what the fuck?

You were almost jealous at how good he looked now. He was always handsome when you were both younger but now it felt like cupid decided to descend from the heavens, laugh at you, then riddled you full of arrows. Was your pulse working? Brain still computing? You knew you had a small crush on Albedo when you were younger- who were you kidding, you were in love with this man since he helped you create cecilia flowers from a dead denro slime - but this was just unfair!

“Albedo! I was looking around everywhere for you. This place is actually a lot bigger than it se-”

“You’re back.”

Albedo was surprised to see that it was really you. He only caught a small glimpse of your profile but he knew it was you. He almost suspected that his vision was tricking him or that he might have accidently set one of his sketches of you to life but you were here. Albedo has always treated friendships with a constant degree of distance, always working or traveling to gathering materials to avoid social interactions even if it wasn’t intentional. He also had no memory of any family, only adventuring deep within the domains with his master and you. But when his Master left with one assignment left for him he couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow, but you were always there to lift his spirits up even if on the outside he didn’t appear upset.

But then you had left and gone on your own journey.

“Hm? Oh, sorry I didn’t mention it in my last letter. It was a bit of an impulse trip. But I’m not intruding in on anything right? You’re happy to see me...right?”

“You’re here.”

At first he was alright with it, even encouraged you to set off to Liyue since it was the closest. Promising that you would both keep in touch even if he found relationships a taxing cycle. But when a few months had passed and it began to settle in that you weren’t anywhere near him. That he couldn’t talk to you about new discoveries, that he couldn’t hear you voice anymore, that he had even forgotten how to sketch you. It felt...weird. He knew what he was feeling was loneliness, he wasn’t deluded or naïve, but even when he had Sucrose or Timaeus it wasn’t the same. But now you were here. He could see you and how the lines in his sketchbook were wrong whenever he attempted to re-create you. He could feel your warmth that sketches he brought to life couldn’t do. He could feel your presence and how it slowly but surely filled the void in him until it was bursting at the seams.

“Albedo? Are you alright?”

“You’re here.”

You were almost afraid that the holidays had broke Albedo. You knew he would sometimes get too deep in thought and wouldn’t register his surrounding but it was just you two. With the sun slowly going down, the snowflakes dancing around you both, and the Christmas light reflecting off his unique blue eyes. You took a slow blinked at him. Once. Twice. The same way you would when you were studying something, trying to unveil its secrets. Before sighing amusingly and opening up your arms to him. He was still the same. 

“I’m here.”

The final assignment Albedo received was too hard, too complicated, far beyond his own limits and he was worried that if he never completed it, would he ever see his teacher again? When you took your first step outside the walls of the city, waving back to him as you set off on your journey, he couldn’t help but feel that like his teacher, you were leaving him too. But when you looked at him with those warm but understanding eyes, opened your arms to him, he let go and stepped into your embrace. He was sure he was borderline crushing your frame but you hugged him back just as tightly. 

“My apologies. I got overwhelmed. Come with me, let’s get out of the cold first.”

You tried to hold it in but you laughed at his statement. He didn’t seem to mind as you felt him smile into your neck. Even with those words he hadn’t let go or slackened his grip in the slightest. So you both stayed there outside in the cold, the christmas lights reflected off snow, the sounds of laughter and singing playing in the background as you both embraced each other. 

I’m home

You’re home

---

Although Albedo was happy to see you again, he was wondering why out of all the years you had been away, all the other holidays you had missed, you decided to come to Mondstadt today. You were at his lab and marveling at all his new devices when he popped the question. You flushed a bit but quickly brushed it off, saying that after all the letters he sent you were finally curious as to what Mondstadt was like and the people he met. Plus, Liyue and Inazuma didn’t celebrate Christmas as much as Mondstadt so it would be nice to finally celebrate the holiday again.

He simply smiled smugly and nodded along before you eventually caved, because that look could steal your heart away, and revealed that honestly, you just really missed him and wanted to spend Christmas together. There wasn’t anything wrong with that was there? So what if you missed him? It was natural. It wasn’t like you were wondering what he was doing on slow days in Liyue. It wasn’t like you we- 

“You can stop laughing at me. I know you’re doing it even if I can’t hear it Albedo.” 

“I’m sorry you must be mistaken. Perhaps your observational skills have rusted?”

You huffed at him before turning your attention to a small but worn sketching book. It was different from the ones he had showed you and much smaller compared to the ripped out sketches he sent you. Albedo noticed your curiosity and almost flushed before striding over and showing you what was inside. It was either he do it now or you would constantly eye ball it until he finally let you see what was inside. 

He took out the old sketchbook and flipped all the way to the first page. They had been sketches of you. When it had just been you, Albedo, and your teacher he would often ask to draw you but he never showed you the finished product. What was surprising was they were all full sketches. No simple lines or unfinished colours. His interest in things, especially when he draws, were fleeting leading him to always create unfinished or basic lines. 

“Wow, was this your first sketchbook? Did you draw anything else? Oh, like your assistant perhaps?”

“No. I only drew one thing here. It’s been sitting here ever since but I tend to make sure it’s in good condition. Should I ever need to draw in it again.” 

Albedo almost reached for his pencil to sketch your smug but bright smile. But set his hand down. While he wants to capture moments so they remain forever with him, he felt that perhaps, it would be nice to live in them. Just for a moment. 

---

I never write at the bottom of my fics but I wrote too much at the start haha (plus tagging my screaming doesn’t work anymore). Not gonna lie, this was going to be different and you and Albedo would have role reversed AND I WAS GOING TO WRITE MONA IN but that didn’t happen. I made it so disgustingly sappy at the end that I want to throw up but when do I not? 

But I kind of like this version more. He’s super out of character but I don’t care and you’re gonna have to take this hcs out of my COLD DEAD HANDS. But I hope you enjoyed this and I’m using this as my Albedo catalyst so come home elevator boy. (cough celebration hcs are still open if you wanna feed me 👀 this )

[halaboyz]

–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.

pairing: photographer! chanhee x  fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3

"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.

"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"

Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.

"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.

“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.

“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out. 

“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up. 

“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.

“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.

“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.

“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.

Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.

You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all. 

“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter. 

Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.

“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.

You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.

“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.

“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”

You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.

He suddenly stands up, wincing.

“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.

You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.

“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.

You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition. 

You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one. 

Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?

There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him. 

You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?

Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.

chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm

You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–

You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.

And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.

Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.

You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.

You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you. 

3:50.

Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie. 

“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.

“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.

Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running. 

You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..

Were you.

It was all you.

There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.

“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.

“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.

All was black and white.

But it didn’t matter.

What colored his world was you– it has always been you. 

A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.

Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.

Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.

Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.

Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.

He made you beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful,

Because you always were.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. 

You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect. 

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.

It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.

“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.

“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.

He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.

Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.

“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.” 

You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.

“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.

He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.

More than perfect.

The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.

“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.

“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.

“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.

“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.

Perfect.

Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.

[the-slasher-files]

Hello there! I’m back with another request. Can you write some headcanons of Michael, Jason, Bo and Bubba if their S/O was an artist? I’m an artist and I would love to see their reaction if I showed them one of my latest drawings.

Yay.. ok so I’ve got a few requests for this (from a shy s/o to a confident one) so I kind of mixed them together :) also btw I don’t write for Bubba but I will write for all the others, plus more! hope you enjoy 🔪💕  

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS WITH S/O THAT LOVES TO DRAW OR IS AN ARTIST

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, and CHROMESKULL

JASON VOORHEES

First of all living where you do at the cabin there is so much inspo from deer, to the lake, to changing of the seasons.. It is honestly the best place for an artist

Jason always noticed a black notebook lying around with pens and pencils on every other surface, and you were oddly protective of the book, so he left it alone respecting your boundaries

Sitting with him in the quiet cabin Jason loved the sounds of the pencils scratching along the paper, and he loved to watch the soothing motions of your wrist going to work

Slowly he will become more and more interested in what you're doing and he needs to see. Sneakily inching himself closer to you as you work away and stretching his neck as far as he can, catching a glimpse then feeling guilty

Jason wants to respect you so much but it kills him that you’re not showing him. So when you were in the shower he quickly ran to the book and gently ran his fingers over your work, amazed at how good everything was and how you brought the nature/animals to life in the book from around the camp

Flipping a page then he is met with sketches of himself, with the mask and without, his hands, some of his wounds with the bones sticking out... it was beautiful and he couldn’t look away until you walked into the room pushing him away from the book but seeing his expression made you melt, he loved it so much and slowly brought out confidence in you, making you show him your work all the time

A few times he had brought some art supplies home from a group of teens that came along

One day he came home to canvases all over the floor and red paint splattered all over your old t-shirt Jason freaked out thinking it was blood in the dim lighting, he stepped on your canvases with muddy boots and held you up making you yelp... “Baby it’s just paint”... well now he feels foolish and upset for stepping on your art

The next night he still felt bad but you showed him what you had created from “the incident”... Bright colours framed the bootprint and brought out the muddy tones, some of the canvases had pressed flowers along the details of the print and it was so beautiful Jason immediately hung them on the wall  

Just an fyi he wants to always do crafts with you lol so make sure you help him

MICHAEL MYERS

Now this guy is pretty indifferent to everything but something about your art brings out a new side in him

You can say a lot of things about Michael but you cannot say he isn’t observant, he sees everything and knows everything

Like Jason he notices your many notebooks and various art supplies around the house, but he is far more intrusive than Jason and will rip the notebook from your hands holding your neck if you protest as he flips through it

Watching his face nothing changes, he just scans the pages then throws the notebook down walking away leaving into the night

The next morning notebook, paints, pens, brushes and other supplies litter the kitchen counter... wonder who got those???

Michael loves watching you work on your art, watching your facial expressions, the way the pens run along the paper and how the paint coats the canvases.. oop you just gave him an idea

One night he came home gruesomely cover in blood a little more than extra, and Michael moves above you and the art you are working on, whoops he is dripping blood on the canvas, then smearing it, then moving his knife along it using it as a brush, I guess

You yelled at him at first but watching how he seemed to enjoy the colours mixing together and the way the blood dried was sort of.. cute

You knew Michael had a funny and creative side just by the way he walked into the bedroom one night with a sheet over himself and sunglasses on, and the way he leaves marks on your body in a certain pattern or framing his favourite features of you. Michael’s art was his kill you realized

He really loves your pieces, even though he would never say so and Michael’s favourites were the sketches of himself you did and he would paint blood along them

You weren’t gonna lie it made the portraits more interesting and honestly beautiful, they quickly became your favourites as well

I’m sorry but my horny self just wants to see Michael in an all-black suit at an art gallery admiring the masked portrait of himself covered in blood... sorry but it’s hot lol

BO SINCLAIR      

So Bo is not really observant so it might take him a while to notice the art supplies around the house but even then he thinks it’s just Vincent’s

You will probably have to do just do the art in front of him before he gets that its your art supplies.. man sucks lol

Bo really enjoys your company when he is in the shop, you just sitting there working away in your notebook and him under the hood of his truck

He doesn’t necessarily push to see what you’re drawing but Bo teases, the harder you hide it the harder he teases... “what ya got in there sex drawings?” “Fuck darlin’ let me be your model”

If you don’t want him to see what you’re doing never leave your notebook behind because the man is a snoop in every sense of the word

Bo 100% supports your art even though he isn’t very interested in it and doesn’t really get it, if it makes you happy he will steal supplies from his twin and if victims have notebooks or pens he will bring them to you immediately  

On a day where you decided to spend the day at the shop, sitting on your chair sketching away while Bo was organizing his tools, he kept catching your glances and smirked “Baby, you need somethin?” he would ask smugly.

“Nope” a simple answer not stroking his ego “gonna grab a beer from downstairs you want one?” Bo nods as you make your way to the mini-fridge. Quickly the man strides over to the notebook, opening the page where you had placed your pencil. He knew it, sketches of himself, it makes his ego skyrocket.

“BO!!” pushing him away and he grabs the book holding it just out of your reach smirking “Momma always said I’d be a good model” “Don’t flatter yourself Sinclair, you’re the only man around for miles that doesn’t wear a mask or look like a trash man” you laughed as him smirk fell... run

He honestly loves your art even though Bo gives you a hard time... His favourite thing is falling asleep to the pencil sounds against the paper when you’re laying in bed together

VINCENT SINCLAIR

SAAAAAAME... lol

The man notices right away that he begins to lose his an unused notebook and some of his best art pencils

It made you very nervous to show Vincent what you sketched and painted since he was just so good at art in every way. It was unfair

His favorite thing to do with you is make little sculptures from wax or clay, he could tell you were very creative and good at what you made, and he would always be super supportive

Vincent’s praise and support made you more comfortable with doing your art around him and even showing him. The man loves it and loves all of it

Different from his brother, Vinny respects you a lot and is fine with not looking in your notebook until you’re ready to show him. He hates when people see his unfinished work and flip through his notebooks as well

The good thing about dating him is Vincent’s art stuff is now yours

Also he is a very good teacher, somehow though he cannot talk, Vinny never makes you feel bad about your art and if you need help he is more than happy to support

Art date nights!! Getting the idea from your phone, you lit all the candles and brought down all the paint you could along with the large unused canvases you had found. When Vincent strolls downstairs his eyes go wide, seeing you in just your bra and underwear “I’m ready for art class Vin” you giggle

When he finds your paintings or sketches of himself without his mask Vincent’s heart melts, finding someone like you to love him, let alone see his destroyed features as art kills him

CHROMESKULL

Jesse is a very watchful human, even when he isn’t at home the guy has cameras literally everywhere

When he was gone on a "business trip" you had all the free time in the world, plus you had picked up some new art supplies, so why not work a large piece when Jesse isn't around to distract you... When you had worked on for a few hours you got a text 'How's the painting coming along?' And that's when you realized cameras are everywhere!

If you are a shy person with your art he basically doesn’t allow you to be, he’s a pushy spoiled man but he is also very supportive and it makes you more confident in showing him  

Jesse honestly loves art and has many expensive paintings in his large home, so when he sees your art you better believe he will have Preston frame the art and put it on the walls, with special art gallery lights really making it look perfect

If you need any and I mean any art supplies no matter how expensive Jesse supports it *hands you his gold credit card*

"Oh.. renovations? To the already perfect mansion?" "Yup.. it's your new art studio"

Art, wine and cheese nights... the perfect date

Feeling uninspired? alright time to change the scenery, let’s go to a tropical destination or a wintery cabin. The man wants to spoil you and put your passion at the top of his priority list, plus he just wants a vacation and see you in your swimwear

It doesn't matter if you're shy about your art or confident Jesse will say he is taking you to an event, get you all dolled up and take you to an art gallery event that is just your art... surprise! Dumb rich bastard loves your work and flaunts it to everyone he can

[mae-gi-writes]

Pretty Smitten | Kuroo Tetsurou

Harry Potter x Haikyuu!!

Summary ◇ it's like second nature for Slytherin's beater Kuroo to always find something to tease you about, until his best friends Bokuto and Tsukishima make him realize it might hide something more.

Genre ◇ hogwarts au! Slytherin! Cocky Kuroo x Hufflepuff f!reader, mentions of Bokuto,  Tsukishima, Hinata, Oikawa, Daichi etc...

◇ ◇ ◇

Thwap!

You duck out of the way just in time to evade the bludger that zips across your head, so close you feel it brush against your ear as your broom zooms you out of the way. The wind isn't making it easier as it tugs at your clothes, weighing you down while you keep on flying around the court with eyes as alert as a Hawk's for the disappearing snitch.

In truth, you don't really enjoy Quidditch all that much. It was merely due to the captain of the Hufflepuff Team, Daichi, who cornered you upon having accidentally caught sight of your flying skills one winter afternoon. He'd grown to be one of your close friends though, which always makea it hard to pull out and whenever you do mention that maybe it is time for the team to take in a new Seeker, he'd instantly change the subject.

And you wouldn't have been so adamant on trying to force your way out of the team. If not for a particular raven-haired Slytherin Beater.

Speaking of the devil. There he is, that familiar crooked smirk dangling upon his lips as he lazily flies over to you.

"Y/N, aren't you a little laid back!?" He calls out and you roll your eyes, pushing yourself forward to fly as past away as possible.

Too late. He catches up quickly enough, grin widening as he continues, "I know we said it's a practice match but come on, could've put some more heart into it."

Throwing him a scowl that would've scalded anyone but himself, you accelerate your speed. As expected, he follows, "so I heard from Kenma that you failed your Potions midterm. Not that I'm surprised really, you never really had a talent for--"

"How is that any of your business?" You mutter, adamantly fixing your gaze on Daichi so as not to accidentally push Kuroo off his broom.

What a nice thought indeed.

"Aha, that's where I come in. Fortunately for you, I am quite adept at Potions see. I could teach you," from your peripheral you notice him wriggle his brows and you roll your eyes, "for free."

Your knuckles turn white as they tighten around your broom handle.

"No thanks."

"You sure wanna pass this up?" He suddenly leans a little closer, smirk widening, "you could totally exploit this sexy brain of mine."

"What do you want from me, Kuroo?"

"Nothing much, just your dear old grumpy self," he replies cheerfully.

Your scowl deepens. But the offer is tempting. Potions is the only subject that you cannot get your head around and while you are aware of Kuro’s ginormous, self-inflated ego, you also know from a few of his classmates -- Daichi and Suga-- that he is quite the prodigy at Potions. 

But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction. You don’t want to give him more reason to get cocky and start another round of endless teasing where you’ll never hear the end of it. 

So you just press your lips together and mumble out a, "we'll see."

"Atta girl," and he waves a goodbye, but not before reaching over to ruffle your hair until your ponytail is barely hanging together, and you yelp in anger, having half a mind to really push him from his broom this time only to see him fly away just in time, that crooked chesire cat smile on his face. 

Idiot. 

◇ ◇ ◇

"Hey hey hey,” Kuroo knows without looking that this voice belongs to none other than one of his two best friends, Bokuto Koutarou. It was a surprise really, that him and Bokuto had stuck together throughout all these years, considering that Bokuto was a Gryffindor, and him a Slytherin.

An arm drops onto his shoulder, his best friend’s grey strands tickling Kuroo’s cheek, “I saw Y/N today. She looked cute.” 

The Slytherin Beater snorted, “Cute is an overstatement.” 

“Ah Kuroo, seems you’re as oblivious as always,” Bokuto let out a heavy sigh as he plopped himself onto the library bench next to him, “do you realize that you spend more time in the library just so that you can see her?” 

“Bullshit. I come to the library to study,” the raven-haired man gestures towards his Defence of Dark Arts book currently sprawled out before him, which causes Bokuto’s eyebrow to raise in curiosity, “like hell you’re actually studying. Now tell me,” he leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur, “do you like her?” 

Kuroo’s brain actually backfires. He bursts out laughing, “what?!” he exclaims so loudly that it earns the pair a few glares thrown their way, to which they silently bow their heads in apology. 

Bokuto turns back to him, “Wow, Tsukki was right. You are thicker than you seem to be, despite that brain of yours.” 

"What?” Kuro frowns as he protests, “I’m not thick. And--you guys talk about me behind my back?!” 

“Of course we do,” Bokuto rolls his eyes as if it’s obvious before settling his chin into his palm, “especially since we’re curious as to why you enjoy spending your time with that little Hufflepuff mouse of yours--” 

“She’s not mine, and I definitely don’t enjoy spending time with her,” Kuroo can feel the heat travel all the way to his face, blossoming through his cheeks as embarrassment curls in his stomach, “I just--”

“You just like seeing her face.”

Both men turn towards the new alto to see the Ravenclaw prefect, Tsukishima, pull out a chair to sit himself opposite Kuroo before taking out his piece of parchment and ink. 

“Not you too?” Kuroo groans, head dropping to his book.

“Also, you might want to stop flirting with her while we’re on the Quidditch pitch,” Tsukishima continues nonchalantly without looking at him, long fingers turning through the pages to find the section he’s looking for, “I almost got my arm torn off by that Bludger, no thanks to you.”

"I wasn’t flirting with her.” 

“I don’t care. Just don’t do it during practice. It’s annoying,” the blonde smirked at Kuroo’s frustrated expression. 

“I was only asking whether she’d like some help with potions. Kenma told me she failed her last midterm. I was trying to be nice.” 

“Oh? Not because you actually wanted to spend more time alone with her?” Bokuto wriggled his brows suggestively, cackling like a crow when Kuroo responded by shoving his shoulder, “no! I don’t even see her that way. She’s not my type--”

“Oya oya oya, speaking of the devil,” Bokuto’s hand plonks onto Kuroo’s hair before twisting it in the direction of the library entrance. A second later, you appear looking a little disgruntled, if not mad.

Realizing that Bokuto’s hand is still weaved into his hair, Kuroo bats it away with more violence than necessary, which gets him a pointed look from Tsukishima’s golden orbs that he responds with a scowl of his own. But before he can voice out how annoyingly invested the pair seemed to be in his love life, he feels a hand tapping him on his shoulder.

Surprise causes him to frown at the sight of you. 

“If it isn’t my dear little Hufflepuff,” Kuroo’s mouth widens in that signature smirk while crossing his arms over his chest, “what can I help you with?” 

“Kenma told me that you’d be here,” you say.

“Mhm?” 

“And I--” you bite your lip before averting your eyes and something in Kuroo stirs because goddamn he’s quite excited about what will fall from your mouth next. But he keeps his silence, waiting for you to battle it out with your pride, “I was wondering whether the offer still stands. For--tu--tutoring.” 

Your cheeks are blazing red at this point but Kuroo finds it somewhat adorable, what with the fact that you are dressed in an oversized Hufflepuff sweater that basically swallowa you whole. 

He forces his expression into a somewhat amused smirk, a little coy, just enough for you to get flustered, “what made you change your mind?” 

“My grades.” 

In the background, Tsukishima snorts. You flush a deeper red if that’s even possible.

“Alright, sure,” Kuroo grins up at you, mischief swimming in those golden feline orbs, “but on one condition.” 

“I thought you said it was free.” 

“I decided it’d be more fun to have you indebted to me.” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, you press your lips together, “what then? What do you want?” 

“I’ll let you know the details later,” he grins at you, “still haven’t figured it out yet.”

A few beats of silence pass between the two of you as you consider his offer, and he can certainly see the way your own pride measures up against your desperation, the way your orbs display your uneasiness as clearly as crystal water. It’s impossible for you to lie, but Kuroo hasn’t noticed how endearing it is, up until now.

And then, he hears Bokuto’s voice in the back of his mind: 

Do you like her? 

Kuroo blinks. Of course he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t. He does not.

Right? 

“Fine,” your voice brings him out of his inner turmoil, “we have a deal.” 

◇ ◇ ◇

If someone had ever told you that one day you’d be sitting by Kuroo’s side to spend more than three hours sticking your noses into your Potion’s back, and actually enjoying it, you would’ve burst out laughing in their faces.

But that is exactly what you are doing right now. And no one is laughing. Definitely not you.

To be fair, Kuroo is not that bad of a tutor. He actually gets pretty into it once he calms down from his teasing high, which is quite a surprising feat considering that you have never seen him serious whenever you were around. It’s always about pricking you with his comments, saying stuff that will get under your skin just enough to get a reaction out of you. 

The first time you met up in the library, you had mentally prepared yourself so that you wouldn’t murder him halfway into the lesson. Your Hufflepuff counterparts had definitely been surprised, not just because your personalities and houses couldn’t have been more different if they tried, but because Kuroo had a reputation of a playful troublemaker, the kind that you usually stayed away from at all costs. 

“Are you sure this isn’t a trap, Y/N?” Your other close friend and classmate, Nishinoya Yu, had lifted his knife into the air with an aggressive swipe, “I can come with you and stab him if ever he does something--”

“Noya-kun I think I can stab him myself,” you reassured him through a mouthful of cereal. 

“Kuroo’s not all that bad,” Daichi had suggested tentatively, though you’d snorted in response. Yeah right, not all that bad? That was a word you could not associate with Kuroo Tetsurou. 

“If he pisses you off too much just ignore him,” Kenma had simply stated when you sought out his point of view on the matter, which seemed quite logical, a suggestion that you definitely took into consideration as you’d marched towards the library doors.

But all your efforts had been in vain. Sure, Kuroo had been his usual teasing self, ruffling your hair too many times that you could count and constantly snickering into his palm whenever you got your potions and terms all mixed up. But to your ultimate surprise, he’d been quite attentive to your needs and constantly fact-checked whether you’d understood the concept before continuing his explanation. More often times than none, you had found yourself gazing at his features as a realization settled deep into your mind; that Kuroo wasn’t all that bad looking after all, and that there was some kind of charm to his messy bed of raven hair and that smirk that seemed to infuriate you to no end. 

He’d even accompany you back to your dorm whenever you ended late albeit the fact that Slytherin and Hufflepuff weren’t that far apart. The chivalry touched you, despite it coming from the Slytherin Beater.

“Who would’ve thought the almighty Kuroo would be walking me to my door,” you comment on the first night it happens as you reach the said portrait leading to the Hufflepuff dormitory, “how surprisingly romantic of you.” 

You look up at him and your eyes can’t help but trace the span of his shoulders, taking note of his height and-- has he always been this tall? He’s a giant in comparison to your tiny figure of one hundred and sixty-three centimetres.

He merely chortles at your statement, “please, romance comes naturally to me,” he gestures his hands with extravagance to prove his point.

"Sure, big guy. If reciting off science puns at me counts as being romantic.” 

“Oi! They’re funny okay!? You laughed.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re pitiful.” 

He shoves your head to the side playfully in response and you yelp, hands flying up to fix your ponytail for the nth time that night, “stop touching my head or I might think it’s your fetish or something.” 

“Even if it was, yours would be the last I’d be attracted to.” 

You chuckle, “try harder Kuroo. Your comebacks suck.” 

“Oh shut up midget.”

“Who’re you calling a midget?!”

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been spending a lot of time in Kuroo’s presence that he grows on you, or maybe it’s the fact that he might not be as bad as you thought he was. But it turns out to be more comfortable to spend time hanging out with him, familiar in ways and yet exciting, thrilling. He’s a jungle of adrenaline and filled to the brim with jokes that are more lame than funny, and yet there’s some kind of comfort to know that he isn’t as unapproachable as you first thought him out to be. 

True to his word, Kuroo is quite brilliant at potions, and quite brilliant at sharing his knowledge in a way that actually makes sense. His natural flair of leadership and sympathetic understanding -- minus the jokes and the incessant teasing -- makes you wonder why he hasn’t been chosen as Quidditch Captain. 

When you ask your question out loud during one of your study sessions, Kuroo only smirks, “are you complimenting me?” 

“Just answer the damn question, Kuroo.”

"Jeez, aren’t you a little aggressive for a Hufflepuff?” he peeks at you from behind his raven bangs, “or should I call you..huffie puffie?” 

You flick his forehead and he yelps, “lame,” you deadpan, “answer me.” 

"They did ask me,” he says, leaning back to stretch out his long arms while you try not to focus on the sinewy veins of his forearms, “I refused.” 

His answer surprises you, “Why?” 

“Because Oikawa wanted it. You know him right?” 

Who didn’t know of Oikawa? He’s a walking prince, struts around Hogwarts like its’ his private garden with his endless servants in tow. 

"That’s it? That’s your reason?” 

“He’s my friend. Wouldn’t be fair to him if I stole the limelight.” 

“...are you sure you’re not secretly a Hufflepuff?”

“You mean a huffie puffie?” 

He ducks just in time to avoid your slap, cackling like crazy until one of the prefects swat you with one of their books upon passing by.

“No, I assure you I’m not a huffie puffie,” his smirk mellows out into a grin before his chin comes to a rest upon his palm, “and plus, I’m not cute enough to be in that house.” 

Heat springs through your cheeks. Is that a compliment or an insult? You’re not quite sure. 

You decide to play along anyway, “yeah you’re right. You’re not cute enough.” 

That does nothing to deter him however, as he keeps gazing down at you with those molten gold pupils half-closed with tenderness, almost lazy, which makes you feel like squirming in your seat. 

“What?” you bark out as you look away, “stop staring. You’re acting like a creep.” 

Chuckling and clearly not flustered by the fact that you’ve just caught him red-handed, the raven-haired Slytherin leans even closer, relishing in the way your face turns a bright scarlet. You lean away, slightly panicked, "wh--what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh nothing, just...” and with movements too quick to comprehend, you feel his fingers gently brushing against a stray strand of hair previously stuck to your lip. 

“So, as I was saying before you interrupted me,” and Kuroo proceeds to drone on about the equal amount of hair needed for the polyjuice potion, not minding the fact that you are practically burning as red as a fire engine while your heart seems to be racing like you’ve just an entire lap around the Quidditch field. 

I’m tired, you chant inwardly, I’m just tired. 

There’s no way your heart can be beating for someone like Kuroo Tetsurou.

◇ ◇ ◇

Kuroo is in deep shit and he knows it.

To be fair, he wouldn’t have been if not for an annoyingly stubborn Gryffindor paired with the dry sarcasm of a particular Ravenclaw that would constantly pass him subtle remarks about the indefinite amount of time he seems to be spending with a certain Hufflepuff Seeker.

“Did you tell her yet? When are you gonna tell her?! Can we be there?! Can we--” Kuroo groans and hides his face a little deeper in his arms at the breakfast table, knowing full well that reprimanding his friend will only cause the latter to double his volume. And granted, Kuroo does not want an audience, not this morning. Especially not when he is minutes away from facing you in the Quidditch field.

And as if that’s not bad enough, Tsukishima has this obnoxious smirk on his face ever since he’s joined them at the table, eating his cereal with unreasonable gusto for someone who finds eating troublesome.

"I’m surprised you figured it out this fast,” the said blonde had stated last evening as the trio sat, huddled around a makeshift magic fire in the Boy’s Prefect Bathroom. It had become their usual hiding spot over the years. 

Kuroo had opted for sipping onto his beer as he recalled the particular moment where he’d felt like he was floating on cloud nine. It had been that very morning itself where you had just gotten back your Potions test and without an ounce of hesitation, had bounded up to the Slytherin table during lunchtime, for once not minding the fact that there were a troop of Slytherins engulfing the raven-haired man on each side.

“Kuroo!” You’d shouted with such enthusiasm that your voice was almost unrecognizable, “Kuroo!” 

But Kuroo had recognized it, turning just in time to catch your excited figure in his arms. Surprise flitted over his face at your bold move but it didn’t seem like you cared at that particular moment, practically squealing while shoving your test in his face. 

“I did it! I got a B minus! That’s the best I’ve ever done in Potions so far!” you babbled in excitement, “you should’ve seen Snape’s face!” 

“Uh--that’s great, Y/N--” good lord, his hands had slipped onto your waist, right along your hip bone and his breathing stuttered at how close you were, “g--good job.”

At this point you had probably realized your compromising position but before you could scramble out, a teasing alto rung through the air:

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Tetsurou?"

Both your heads snapped at none other than Oikawa, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement, a smirk painted over his lips. You pinked as Kuroo barked out, "shut it, Oikawa."

"S--Sorry," you moved away so quickly that coldness swooped in through Kuroo's fingers, though he wished he could pull you right back.

And that, that had been like a slap in the face. Cold reality rushing through him as his heart throbbed.

Uh oh.

"Don't be such a wimp Kuroo," Bokuto'a alto brings him back to reality and Kuroo blinks, faced with none other than his best friend's grin, "where'd your confidence go now that you actually have a chance?!"

Kuroo doesn't bother replying. It's hard enough to face you without melting in a puddle of heat, how is he supposed to confess at this rate?

As the trio make their way to the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin Beater’s eyes easily found you amidst the swarm of Green and Mustard yellow and he raised his hand up in mock salute, heart melting slightly at the shy nod you replied him with before looking away, cheeks flushed.

So cute.

“Now now, Tetsu-chan, not the time to be flirting with your girlfriend,” he feels a hand slap him on his back a little too harshly, causing him to throw a scowl at his Captain. Oikawa merely pulls out his tongue in response, before motioning him to take his place.

He forces your face out of his mind while climbing onto his broom, momentarily closing his eyes to focus on the cheerful chants coming from the bleachers. The Quaffle is thrown into the air, followed by the whistle. 

He kicks off so quickly from the ground that he’s a mere blur of silver and emerald zipping through the air, bat at the ready while his eyes dart back and forth. Kuroo spots a Bludger heading straight for one of his chasers and quickly veering off in the same direction, he swings his bat back, lunges forward--

Thwap!

The distant ache reveberates through Kuroo’s arm, but the smirk of satisfaction is obvious on his face. He proceeds onwards, forcing himself to keep his concentration on the balls so that his thoughts aren’t invaded by your presence, by the way you smile, or the blush on your cheeks--

Focus! He shakes his head. He swears he could use a good bashing on the head. He’ll never hear the end of it with Oikawa if he doesn’t do his job right.

A yell tears through the pitch.

“Watch out!” 

Kuroo’s head whips around on instinct. He doesn’t even have time to react as he spots the Bludger flying from the other end of the pitch and heading straight towards--

You. 

No. Blood drains from Kuroo’s face. He doesn’t think, doesn’t even second-guess his movements. He pushes forward onto his broom against his protesting muscles, against the voices that shout out his name in protest as the entire pitch turns into a cacophony of horrified yells and cries to get out of the way, get out of the way before--

A sickening crunch is heard and horror strikes him straight in the chest the moment he sees your body crumble, lips parting in a silent scream. 

Kuroo’s heart shatters into a million pieces.

◇ ◇ ◇

Warm.

It’s so warm. You don’t feel like waking up. But instinct kicks in and you groan, an echo of pain jogging through every muscle in your body. It feels like you’ve just been run over by a truck and forcing your eyelids to peel open against the drowsiness, it takes a few seconds for you to register that this isn’t your room. 

Fresh laundry sheets, the sound of disinfectant in the air...This is no doubt the Hospital Wing.

You try to sit up but a muffled groan echoes through your throat when pain flares up on your right side. Jesus christ, you did really get run over by a truck. 

That’s when your gaze suddenly falls upon a mop of dark raven hair, feel the warmth of a calloused palm holding onto your free hand. 

And suddenly, you’re wide awake.

With the dark emerald cape hanging off his back and with his tousled bird’s nest of hair, it’s almost shockingly obvious that this is Kuroo. His face is currently buried in his other arm, which gives you the courage to reach out to gently rest your hand upon his head.

As if sensing your movements, the said raven-haired Slytherin lets out a soft groan of his own. Your hand instantly whips away and you watch, with a mixture of confusion and surprise, as his golden orbs blink away the sleep before they slowly come to focus. 

His breath hitches as you murmur out, “hey?” 

"Y--You’re awake?” He murmurs so low you barely make sense of his words, and before you can respond, the man has grabbed hold of your hands before bringing them to his lips, “Jesus christ, Y/N, I--I seriously thought--”

Your pulse only quickens, heart tugging with emotion when you catch sight of the wetness in Kuroo’s golden orbs. What? 

What is going on?

This Kuroo is not the one you are used to, looking like he’s unraveling at your very feet. In any normal circumstances, you would’ve definitely taken this advantage to tease him mercilessly, but that’s clearly impossible. You can’t do that to him, not when he’s gazing down at you like you’re worth a thousand paintings.

The thought makes your heart quiver in your chest. Warmth curls through your stomach.

“What...” you rasp out, “happened?”

“A bludger. Came out of nowhere. Headmaster thinks it got tweaked somehow, some stupid prank,” he is searching your eyes, reading your facial expressions like he’s worried you might drop dead any second. 

“Kuroo," you call him gently, “I’m fine.” 

And to your utmost surprise, the raven-haired Slytherin’s eyes flutter towards your hands, lips peppering a rain of kisses along your knuckles. They leave a trail of heat that causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, “Wha--”

“I thought I'd lost you, Y/N. Don't--" his voice chokes up, gaze running up to lock with yours, "don't ever scare me lile that. Fuck, kitten, what would I have done--"

Your own breath hitches. Your eyes grow wide.

Kuroo seems to realize the same thing, hand slapping over his mouth in shock.

"What--" you splutter out. Suddenly, all your pain is forgotten, "did you call me?"

Kuroo swallows thickly as the silence settles between you two.

Then, he breaths in slow and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them back to lock eyes with yours.

What swims in his golden feline pupils makes your breath catch.

"I like you," he murmurs, "I've liked you for a while but was too much of a coward to say it. And I guess-- seeing you so hurt scared me. I don't think I've ever been so scared before."

Your skin is basically burning at this point, a volcano of feelings bursting inside you that makes you want to crawl into a hole and hide there forever. But Kuroo's eyes, despite having the slightest tinge of blush littering his cheeks, is still latched onto your features. Unwavering, probing. Questioning.

He likes you.

He likes you.

"You mean--like? As a--"

"More than a friend," he simply says.

Your mouth opens into a small silent Oh.

You don't know what to say. What to do.

Because in truth, if you really have to be honest with yourself, your heart definitely beats for this particular Slytherin. For god knows whatever reason, he’s been on your mind and in your heart for a few weeks now. 

You wish to say something. Anything. But your throat is dry. You cough it out, swallow and slowly let out a soft breath before your orbs slowly flutter to your lap, to your hands that Kuroo has grasped so tenderly in his hold.

“The feeling--” you gulp back your pride, “the feeling is mutual, I guess.” 

You don’t have to look at Kuroo to know that there’s a huge grin that blossoms across his face and not even a second later you’re rewarded another rain of kisses upon your knuckles. Gasping slightly at his boldness, his grin mellows out into that teasing smirk you know so well, though it does bring about a few butterflies roaming through your stomach.

“Ooh, mutual now is it?” Kuroo’s smirk broadens like a cat about to go for a chase and you squirm in your bed, hating how quickly the tables have turned, “weren’t you the one blushing like an idiot just a few seconds ago?!” you splutter out as a miserable defence.

He merely cackles though, leaning in so close that you yelp, “remember about my condition for tutoring you?” 

He’s so close that your noses bump into each other. It doesn’t help your heart from running an erratic race inside your chest.

You scramble for coherence, “w--what about it?”

“I figured out what it is.” 

"What?” 

You try -- and fail -- to lean away when Kuroo’s hand slips up to cradle the side of your cheek, and your body reacts like wildfire, troops of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his tender caress.

“Let me kiss you?” Kuroo mumbles out with a hoarse alto, so hoarse it makes you shiver and your toes to curl in delight, spurred on by the words that have just left his mouth.

Gold pupils meet yours. Then, your head dips into a shy nod.

Kuroo’s mouth is warm, and soft, and pleasant. He kisses you slowly, gently, like he’s afraid you’d run away if he pressed on too quickly. You’re not used to it, but you feel like it can grow on you. The way your body relaxes into the kiss has the raven-haired man more confident. His thumb traces your cheek while he slants his head a little more to capture your bottom lips with his own, sucking slightly. 

You gasp at the sensation and he smirks -- just barely -- and proceeds to kiss you a little deeper. Deep enough, firmly enough that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

“Cute,” Kuroo mumbles against your lips, retracting so that you can breathe. You haven’t realised up until now, that your hands have made their way to the back of Kuroo’s cloak to tug him closer, or how the said man is literally half-sprawled across your hospital bed. 

That is, until you hear a certain voice shout out:

“Oya Oya! What do I see here?!”