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angrymiau · 3 months ago

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the boy wonder: dick grayson!

aka: my design of him (casual), his nightwing costume, and his robin costume!

part 1/? because I'm planning to draw my headcanons of the rest of the family too! 💙💙, my headcanons and thought process below the cut ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ (I'm insane) (I'm gonna ramble a lot)

FIRST !! His casual outfit (+ other small things) (this is going to be very long)

first things first i wanted him to be very blue because it helps me differentiate each sibling (+ steph) and have a color pallette because I'm not a character designer at all and if you ask me to combine colors I'll cry in agony, so Dick obviously got blue!! HOWEVER I didn't want to give him bright BRIGHT blue because i wanted dick to look, not soft? but approachable. I hc him to work with kids, maybe as a teacher or as an instructor, because I can't see him as a cop at all (aside from undercover maybe, which if i remember correctly is why he was a cop in the first place) in the long-term—and so I used colors that are mostly soft / not very bright because they're not very stimulating for kids or could distract them too much, and can also tend to be sorta soothing / calming ?? soft colors can help kids focus and soothe them

which is what brings me to my other point, which was drawing with small details to make him look more welcoming and approachable and not threatening at all, at least not as dick grayson, was giving him bushy eyebrows, messy hair and big(?) eyes!! there's not big explanation to that, just that when giving him small details like those i try to follow the theme i gave him in the first place

Aside from that, I like to think his bad fashion sense is a conscious decision. As in he knows how to dress properly, and he can design good suits, but he consciously chooses obnoxious things or things that don't match just for the giggles. Why not. (I'm a firm believer that Discowing should come back it was a great suit). He dresses very well but some days he will show up at the Manor looking like an unicorn threw up on him and being a walking fashion crime and acts unaware to it. Why not.

Other small thing is the necklace!! i was going to draw it to be a four-leaf clover but couldnt draw it so it just ended like that. It has a picture of himself + his fam, a picture that Tim took, so Dick edited Tim's face into the photo with photoshop so in the middle of it there's Tim's floating face

I also hc Dick with another height! I know he's 5'10", which is close to 178cm if I'm correct, but I actually hc him to be shorter, and to be small since he was a kid but having The Growth Spurt when he was around or so! It's only a few cms, I just hc him to be 174cm lol, it's only a 4 cm difference

Last thing which is totally self-indulgent, those dark spots on Dick's neck, knuckles and elbows are because I hc him to have insulin resistance! Because I do since I was a kid, and because why not. I looked it up and it's apparently called 'Acanthosis nigricans' (im fully healthy btw dont worry 👊), I just wanted Dick to have it

I also hc Dick to be genderqueer and bi&demisexual but that has nothing to do with his design

Now!!! Nightwing!!!!!

This was more easier and there's not a lot of different things, but I added some things I like,

Since Dick has long hair, and I'm a firm believer of the fact that hairstyles change how someone can perceive you/recognize you (or maybe I just have bad memory and can't memorize faces at all), I made him tie his hair but also have it a bit more messy, to change from his usual hair look (which is leaving his hair down)

Aside from that, I just added more blue to his suit by adding a few things, his collar (which is the best part of his discowing suit!!!!!!! aside from the colors!!!!), and gave him back his gauntles which I can't draw so they look strange! That, and I gave him a belt with small.bags??? things??? (HOW ARE THEY CALLED IN ENGLISH) where he keeps some stuff he needs like smoke bombs etc etc, they're not filled with those trinkets and are very light so they won't bother him when he does his flips, and it's tied very well so it won't fall off (it happened). so now he can store things on his belt and on his gauntlets instead of his sticks that I forgot how they're called in english

and now...... The Child (aka Devil incarnate)

Following the same theme of looking approaching and good and blahblah but even more. I made his hair curlier because unlike Older Dick who actually tries to brush it and fails miserably, when he was younger he didn't care and climbed every single furniture in the Manor whenever Alfred tried to force him to brush it, inspired by the fact I used to hate to brush my hair as a kid

He also has those dark marks because of the insuline resistance, and I gave him knee pads (?) because there's no way Bruce would let him out like that with only That costume as protection. Overall I didn't change a lot from the canon design?

He's also short, because why not. It makes it funnier to think about being a criminal and a literal 8 year old who barely reaches a bit above ur hip beats your ass. i wouldn't show my face ever again .

I also hc that he Put the fear of god into the rogues gallery (i dont remember how theyre called as a group in english im gonna cry). while Jason did that with the gotham criminals(not rogues, but others, he was cute and all but also very VICIOUS against them, especially those who messed with kids . robin gave him the magic but the magic to break their collarbones, but this isnt about him), Dick was very very VERY annoying to them. the Joker hates him because Dick loudly says how the Joker sucks as a clown and has an obnoxiously long list of every single way the Joker fails as a clown. The Riddler hates him. Penguin hates him. Everyone hates him. They hear a kid laugh and are like '😨 ROBIN' even though Robin is now an adult man. he gave them ptsd. u know that creepy kid laugh? thats exactly how dick laughed to creep them out. it also creeped out the gotham criminals but Dick was specially mean to the gotham rogues . imagine being one of them and after going through the nightmare that is meeting an 8 year old (truly traumatizing) that later kicked ur ass, is hearing robin get sleepy and having to go home because he has a bedtime. a kid with a bedtime beat you. a kid who has to go to school and has to learn how to count to 1000 beat you. I would cry

A small thing I like to think even if it's not included is that in one of his pockets he keeps candies !! both for him and for kids he saves with batman. Batman checks he's not eating all of them because what's worse than an angry and hyperactive eight year old is an angry and hyperactive eight year old mid-sugar rush. no one recovered after that night.

That's all !!!! THANK U FOR READING MY RAMBLES!!!!! kisses u in the cheek /p

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freesia-writes · 2 years ago

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"If you want it, you're gonna have to come and get it from me." for rex? please 💙💙💙

Ok, let’s gooo! I was panicking trying to figure out if Rex or Reader should say the line, so I just went with what came as I was writing... I always see Rex as awkward at first, but we all know he's got some passion underneath that can be coaxed out with the right situation. ;) Hope it's a fun read! <3

Rex x GN!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Content Warnings: PG-13 drinking, threats, kissing...?

Also, this picture was in my head the whole time. ;)

It had been weeks. The 501st had been on Coruscant while their Venator was undergoing major repairs after an obnoxious ambush by the Separatists. There were only so many drills and armor inspections that could be done, so the clones found themselves at 79s more frequently than they were used to. It was a good opportunity to blow off some steam, to enjoy a change of pace from the constant horrors of war, and they were in generally good spirits. You’d been frequenting the place as well, finding it a welcome distraction from your recent break-up and mundane, dead-end job.

The boys in blue were always a good time, and you enjoyed the occasional chat with a few of them, but there was always one who tended to keep to himself, chatting with his fellow captains and other squad members in various corners of the bar. You’d made eye contact a few times, finding yourself oddly drawn to him, but he’d been quick to avert his gaze with a sheepish look. It seemed a stark contrast to what you’d heard about him as a fearless yet humble soldier, a courageous leader, and a proficient warrior. Needless to say, you were tired of the blatant approaches from the bar patrons with less finesse, and the idea of not being fawned over was an appealing one. Perhaps you could even have a legitimate conversation.

You’d made some efforts to place yourself near him, but the way he’d shift uncomfortably on his feet made you wonder if your presence was unwelcome. Finally, after unabashedly using Fives as a cover for a few nights in a row, he called you out.

“Just go talk to him,” he said suddenly, elbowing you in the side a little harder than he intended.

“What!” you gasped, partly in pain and partly surprised at his directness.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are. I don’t know how you’re so impervious to my charm, but it’s obvious you’ve been stealing glances at him while you’re talking to me. So just go talk to him.” His response was laced with a grin and a glint in his eyes, and a blush blossomed across your cheeks.

“I don’t know what--”

“Alright, come on,” Fives interrupted, taking you by the elbow and heading toward Rex. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it took all your concentration to avoid tripping over your own feet as you were steered toward the captain, who was talking with another clone and immediately stiffened as he saw you approach.

“Hey Captain,” Fives said casually, pulling up in front of them, “We were just talking about that backward strategy you pulled on Saleucami, and this pretty little thing wanted to hear more about your battle tactics.”

You groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to slap your palm into your forehead, but the awkward noise that came from Rex immediately diffused the tension with hilarity.

“Ehhrmmeheh…” he said, eyes darting from Fives to you. His companion chuckled, slapping him on the back and saying his goodbyes as he left with Fives, leaving the two of you staring at each other.

“So uh… Battle tactics… That’s… hard…” you offered, clasping your hands together in front of you and trying not to fidget.

“It’s… Well, we’re trained… And the generals, and admirals, and… you know. It’s not just me,” Rex offered, running a hand over his closely-shaved blonde hair. His helmet was on the counter nearby, and you noticed the interesting markings across the top, making a mental note to ask about them later. You took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly to steady your nerves, and leaned against the counter, feeling yourself relax a little.

“Okay, so what would you do in this scenario…” You quizzed, and the two of you launched into the nerdiest discussion of war strategy you could have imagined. The minutes ticked by, and you started to feel much more comfortable. Rex was clearly engaged, enjoying the intellectual challenge and particularly appreciating the familiarity of the content. Drinks were refilled, you began coming up with increasingly ridiculous situations, both of you loosening up and laughing a bit more, and finally the conversation turned toward other things. He shared about the early days of the war, you talked about your aspirations for a career that seemed to be just out of your reach, and the discussion was occasionally punctuated by the arrival of someone else who wanted to have a quick talk with Rex. He would engage for a bit, sending you the occasional side glance and grin that made your heart skip a beat, then would turn back to you.

Things were going fantastically, but you were suddenly interrupted by a very unwelcome presence -- a regrettable one-night-stand from a while ago who had never quite gotten the hint that you didn’t want to talk to him again. He sidled up next to you, a little too close for comfort, sloshing his drink a bit as he leaned into your side with a foul-breathed greeting.

“Well helloooooo! Fancy meeting you here!” he slurred, eyes roving over you with thinly veiled interest. You crinkled your nose, leaning away from him a bit, and Rex noticed your discomfort.

“Hi there,” he said, a sudden air of authority in his voice that gave you goosebumps. “We were just heading out, but nice to see you, and hope you have a good night!” He rose to his feet from the stool he’d been resting on, offering his arm to you as he used the other one to tuck his helmet against his hip. You stood as well, taking his arm and muttering a farewell to the inebriated mistake of your past, who started rambling something incoherent after you as the two of you strolled out the front door.

The cool night air hit your face, refreshing and invigorating after the cloying warmth of 79s as you walked down the street and around the corner. You realized with a start that Rex was looking at you, a little half-smile on his face that made you suddenly want to kiss him. What were you supposed to do now? It had been a diversion to leave the bar, but you now found yourself with no plan of where to go. You opened your mouth for some feeble attempt at a joke, but were suddenly interrupted by a loud voice behind you.

“Hey! I wazzn done with you! I’sstill talkin n you left!”

You whirled around, matched in speed by Rex who had turned to face the threatening sound immediately. The obnoxious little hemorrhoid was staggering after you, still holding the glass from the bar, waving it angrily at the two of you. His face was bright red, mouth spluttering with words, and you wondered how you ever made such a bad decision like that. Your self-flagellation was halted by the gentle push of Rex’s helmet into your arms, as he stepped slightly in front of you to face the approaching complainer.

“Easy there, brother. Why don’t you take your glass back and have a good night?” Rex said, striking a balance of firmness and affability. You marveled at his ability to be direct without the bravado that so many insecure men would immediately put on when challenged in any way.

“YOU take thglass back!” the parasite spluttered, making a sudden lunge at the two of you. In one smooth motion, Rex moved the two of you sideways, out of the way of the ill-aimed charge, and you let out a little yelp of surprise as you backed up against the wall beside you, clutching the helmet in your arms. In a flash, Rex was in front of you, holding a hand up toward the angry little fuss, who was revving up for another go. He came at the Captain and was easily dodged, running past in a clumsy bundle of flailing limbs, crashing into some passersby who squawked in surprise and disapproval.

“Time to go home,” Rex commanded, still squaring up in case the fool decided to have another go. And indeed he did, lowering his head and taking a swing at the clone, who effortlessly dodged it and quickly swept his legs out from under him. He fell backward with a disproportionately satisfying thwack, head knocking into the mirror of a speeder on the way down, sending the glass mug flying from his hand, and passed out cold. You cringed, pressing the back of your head into the wall in embarrassment, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Rex turned back to you, expression unreadable, and you began to offer your apologies.

“I’m so sorry,” you started, but he waved them away, and you were overcome with the sudden realization of just how damn sexy he was. The combination of hours of conversation, his intelligence and humility, and the fearless protectiveness were intoxicating, and the rush of all that had just happened hit you like the brick wall you were backed up against.

“Eh, I guess it’s the struggle of having such devoted followers,” Rex said dismissively, a playful smile on his face.

“More like clingy regrets from a moment of bad judgment,” you admitted, turning his helmet in your hands.

“I’ll take that if you’d like,” he said, extending a hand warmly and nodding toward the helmet.

Whether it was the thrill of the series of events, the culmination of the emotional roller coaster you’d been on in life, or just the sheer magnetism of the blonde beauty in front of you, a sudden courage found its way into your heart. You hoped it would be received well, but it just felt so… right. You took a step forward, shifting the helmet around behind your back, holding it in both arms between your spine and the wall, and lifted your chin toward Rex with a cheeky grin.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to come and get it from me.”

You didn’t know where it came from, but the spark between the two of you was undeniable, and you held your breath as Rex raised an eyebrow in surprise. Your heart skipped a beat when he pursed his lips, assessing you with a gaze that made your knees weak. He had seemed so awkward at the bar, so unsure of himself, but now he was none of those things. His presence exuded confidence, and he moved slowly toward you. The smoldering intensity in his eyes melted you to the core, and you inhaled sharply as he brought his face within inches of yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he leaned toward your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Well look at you all of a sudden,” he purred, reaching an arm around your side. You temporarily forgot about the helmet as he moved his lips from your ear to your mouth, not touching, just barely hovering in the most tantalizing way. His eyelids were low as he took in a slow breath, raising his eyes to yours and brushing the tip of your nose with his own on the way. Your lips parted slightly, holding your breath, every nerve in your body on fire as you found yourself yearning to close the distance between the two of you but also finding yourself frozen in place, unable to move.

The tension was suddenly broken as you felt the helmet slip out from behind you, and you fell back into the wall with a surprised gasp. Rex stood up straight, holding the helmet up triumphantly with an eyebrow waggle. The flood of emotions was indescribable -- shock, humor, indignation, disappointment, delight…

“That’s not fair!” you breathed, feeling slightly embarrassed at being toyed with, and you took a hopeless swipe at the helmet, which he easily pulled out of reach with a smile.

“You’re right…” he answered, surprising you as he pressed forward against you, snugly trapping you between his plastoid armor and the wall. You brought a hand to his chest plate, the other resting on his hip, looking up at him in thoroughly flustered admiration. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself at this point, but he lifted his free hand to your chin, tipping it upward ever so gently, and hesitated to scan your eyes for consent. You closed them, leaning forward slightly, and he dropped his helmet to the ground, snaking his other arm around your waist, pressing the most deliciously tender kiss to your mouth. Electricity coursed from your head to your toes, and you melted against him, drowning in his scent and taste and touch. A quiet, contented “hmm” rumbled in his chest, and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss blissfully.

It felt like hours and seconds simultaneously when you finally parted, sucking in the cool air in disbelief and amazement. He leaned his forehead gently against yours, leaving his eyes closed for a moment, a small smile on his lips, and you reveled in the contrast of his sharp features and the softness of his touch. What a change from the flustered, awkward start of your interaction… A million thoughts and questions flew through your mind, but you let them all drift away to instead savor the moment.

“Thank you?” you whispered, earning a tiny chuckle from him.

“My pleasure,” Rex answered, “Should we go discuss some more battle strategy?”

You laughed out loud now, giving his cheek a fond caress, "Fantastic idea."

LOOK!! Fanart!! 😭😍🥹👏🏻👏🏻 SO HAWTT!!

#rex star wars #captain rex #sexy rexy #clone captain rex #rex #tcw rex #rex fanfic #rex one shot #captain rex one shot #captain rex fic #captain rex fluff #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #rex x reader #rex x you

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colderdrafts · 1 year ago

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Calm waters

Just a lil one-shot drabble for some practice. Enjoy 💙

Merman (octo) x gn reader. Sfw, tw kidnapping, mild violence

He sits on the same rock as usual, large, black tendrils partially holding onto it, partially running through the depths below. He breathes deeply to calm himself, a familiar scent of salt in the air.

This part of the beach is quiet, a vacant a spot he retreats to for some peace, away from prying eyes. At times, he brings the visitors of the oceans and his heart with him.

Topas watches the odd metallic bird rising high up in the sky, leaving it's odd ever-growing white tail behind on the air, like using a paint brush on a blue canvas.

How something like that can even fly is beyond him, truly another marvel of human ingenuity. The distant roar of its powerful 'engine' floods his senses, like an imitation of a rumbling thunder. He misses the lightning that usually accompanies the sound, however. Perhaps it would strike him, and give clarity as to why he's allowed himself to be fooled once again.

Frankly, he should have seen it coming, this is how it always ends. So why did he think anything will change? Why does he trust whatever fleeting promises anyone who gives him the time of day throws his way?

He gnaws on his bottom lip, agitated, sharp teeth threatening to draw blood. The pain is grounding. Reminding him he's still a someone and present, despite how he's been discarded like an accessory. Something interesting to spend your time on while you're away from home - an item you'll leave behind and forget about.

He's exciting, new, a creature of the depths, a hermit you'd be lucky to stumble upon at all. For a time. But the second whatever schedule they have in place for their lives run out, they're gone, him being nothing more than a summer fling, a short lived ecstasy and rush of dopamine.

He stares at the monstrous metal bird like his eyes could vaporize it, and strike it down so you'd be in his arms again, come back to where you belong. He knows you're on it. He recognizes the logo of the company you're flying with, reminiscing the way your claw-less fingers traced over the ticket you once showed him. Telling him stories of the lands you used to belong to.

He squints at the obnoxiously bright colors coating the bottom of the flying vessel, like a mockery of a proper bird.

He knew you'd be leaving today, but you promised to at least come say goodbye. Tell him your beautiful lie that you'd return sometime. You couldn't even do that for him.

He really thought this would be different. He turns away angrily, hauling himself down the slope of rocks toward the beckoning water. Perhaps he should spend the next decade or so in the further deep to get his mind on straight again.

They're gone, just like the others. The metal bird has won once again. Nothing will change that now. He's so stupid-

"Topas?"

The sound is barely a breath upon the wind, but nevertheless the familiar call of his name stops him dead in his tracks. Your voice instantly sends an excited chill down his spine, and he hardly dares move in case he'd just imagined it.

Topas turns then, slow and anticipatory, the tendrils of his lower body squirming to find something to hold on to. Deep green eyes settle on your haggard form standing at the tip of the waves, your feet hidden in the sand. Your protective fabrics are wrung awry, your knees scraped bloody (and smelling so, so good) and you're clearly out of breath.

Topas deducts you've been running. Supposedly you had a fall along the way. Your appearance is that of a seasoned fighter, and it's breathtaking.

He resist the immediate urge to take you into his arms, curl everything he is around you and enjoy your strange body, hardened by the land, pressing against his again. He must not forget you broke a promise.

What's to say you will not do so again? Topas ignores the want in his heart and narrows his eyes, taking some satisfaction you have the grace to avert yours. Acknowledging, like someone who knows of their guilt.

"Did the metal bird leave without you?" he asks as a greeting, guarded. And now you're looking for further entertainment until it flies again?

You take a few deep breaths to muster your voice, finding the courage to look back at him. "No - well, yes, I mean. No?" you falter, struggling to find which words to speak first.

Topas wonders why you're trying to say all of them all at once, forcing his face to hold back the creeping smile threatening to remove his upset. Your fluster still warms him, enjoying the effect he can have on you. He patiently waits for you to explain yourself, slowly moving through the water and closing the annoying gap.

"I overslept, and dashed for the airport," you begin, stubbornly steadfast at his approach. Still, you appear like a spooked seahorse awaiting its chance to flee, and he just wants to drag you back into the water, make sure you can't bolt. "I made it to the gate. But. I couldn't get on it. It wouldn't be right."

He stops at that last part and stares for a beat, borderline flabbergasted.

You fidget with your hands again. Topas wonders if it's because you want to hold his. "I'm sorry I'm late - but I said I'd say goodbye, right? It's the least I could do for you. For all this time you've spent keeping me company and guiding me through an area I've never been to."

His eyes widen. Isn't that - that's a big deal for a human, isn't it? Going out of your way like that? Abandoning something seemingly as mighty as time?

It always seems it's notoriously important humans get to the 'right plane' at the 'right time', well in advance, everything must be perfect and go smoothly.

To get home, to get back to work. It's so, so important. And yet you abandoned that chance. For him? To keep your promise?

"You came back just to say goodbye? And now you can't go..?" he asks.

"I, uh. Yeah. Yeah, that about covers it," you chuckle awkwardly, a sound like music. You've about caught your breath, trying and failing to smooth out some torn fabric. "Sorry I'm such a mess right now."

Silence. Topas covers the ground in one quick jump, rapidly closing the remaining distance and roughly latching onto you, knocking you flat on your back in the sand below. He holds on tight, coiling his tendrils around your legs and almost squeezing the breath right back out of you. You let out the most adorable startled and half-strangled noise, gods he could crush you, it's so good you're still here.

You returned. You can keep your promises. You abandoned your important human nonsense. It's almost unreal.

Your heart is razing, he can tell, but it's alright, so is his. He smooths some tendrils along your legs in a calming motion, and the nervous laughter you let out soothes you. He feels your arms reaching back around him, sliding across his skin and settling on the small of his back. He knows you like to hold them there, feeling the space where his hips turn into strong muscle of the tendrils running into the water.

"Good," he breathes, smelling your sun kissed skin. "Good. You can't go. You're staying here."

You chuckle sadly. "Topas-"

"No."

Its not as much the demanding tone as it's the way everything he is suddenly tightens around you.

You stiffen, anxious like the first time he held you, perhaps he got a little too excited. He didn't mean to frighten you then, and he doesn't mean to do so now. But this is important. It's important you understand how significant this is.

"No..?" you repeat carefully. You pet his back like a silent attempt to soothe. You'll have to forgive he can't appreciate the gesture right now.

"I know what you're about to say," Topas says through gritted teeth. He keeps his face hidden in the crook of your neck so you can't look him in the eye, still aware his intensity has a tendency to frighten humans. "'There's another one flying away soon. I'll leave with the next one. I'll return next year. I promise I'll never forget you.'"

He spits the last words out with the vitriol of all the times it's happened combined, his bitterness clouding the air.

"Topas," you try. Your voice sounds so oddly brittle, your hands settle on his chest, pushing slightly. "Topas, please let go of me-"

You can feel teeth ghosting over your neck like Topas' considering if biting you would bring his point across better. He tightens his grip on your legs, and you stop squirming.

"Something will get in the way of all that. It always does. You won't be back, and you'll forget," he says.

He lifts himself slightly, finally looking you in the face. Your eyes are blown wide, and you're still breathing too quick, staring like captured prey. His heart sinks at the sight, but this is better than the alternative. He gingerly leans down, resting his forehead against yours.

"But I know you want to be here now," he whispers, staring into you. "So I'm just going to not give you any other option."

Slowly, he starts dragging you across the sand. You let him for a bit, still confused at his sudden change of tone, but the second you realize he's dragging you toward the water you start struggling, attempting to pull free from his iron grip.

He's set off your fear response, Topas acknowledges, but it'll stop clouding your mind soon enough. He just has to get you to the water-

He's interrupted by a sudden sharp sting in his eye. You've managed to get a hand free and went to roughly poke him. Topas squeals in pain, his tendrils loosening just a bit of their grip. Your body heat leaves them behind and he can't taste you anymore, you've pulled them to you. Another blow follows, this time to his stomach, as you kick against him to gain more distance.

Topas grunts from the sudden impact, and you turn over on your front, calling for help. You're trying to drag yourself away from him. That won't do. He recovers, and leaps forward again, locking his hand around your ankle, dragging you back across the sand.

"No, no, calm down-" he bristles, pulling you back into his body, hands on your calves, thighs, hips - he locks his body around you again to stop your frantic kicking and screaming. Once back in control, he starts tugging you over the sand once again.

"I can't breathe!" you shriek suddenly, clawing at the ground for anything to stop your shared path toward the depths. Your fingers leave patterns in the wet ground, the waves coming in to calmly sweep them away.

"I know," he mutters soothingly, keeping the momentum. "I know." He's not going to drown you. This is just to talk. Get used to the water, so you don't have to concern yourself with what's keeping you on land ever again.

The cool water seeps over his skin and yours in one, final pull. He stretches, long tendrils writhing around you, feeling the water around him carrying his body, his full freedom of movement finally returning. He breathe deeply, enjoying the wetting of his gills as the salt welcomes him home. Now, he just has to get you away from shore, fast.

The land is left behind, the cold water making you still, clinging to Topas' embrace. He easily lets you. You've no other choice out here, at his mercy. It's keep calm or sink, and slowly, slowly, the beach gets smaller and smaller as the open waters get deeper beneath you both. He makes sure to keep your head above water.

The shore carries no trace of the human who missed their plane. The salty sea air caresses the skin of its visitors, and an empty rock sits quietly in the waves.

#colderwriting #monster x reader #monster lover #gender neutral reader #merman #terato

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likeawolfatthemoon · 6 months ago

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some recent work selfies of me being the local obnoxious blue-haired bisexual consumerist swiftie 💙💜💖🫶

#leanne.face #swiftlgbtselfies

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miss-andromeda · 1 year ago

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2012 TMNT 😁

The first character I first fell in love with:

This should be a no-brainer...I think you know him. Tall, purple bandana, gap between the teeth, way too smart for his own good...yeah, it's him. 😌💜

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now:

Honestly, Raph! I started the show thinking very surface-level of him; awesome ninja, anger issues, stuff like that. Then when I started rewatching the show, I started to see how vulnerable and soft he could be with his brothers - along with unbelievably sassy he can be. Seriously, dude has some of my favorite one-liners in the whole show.🤣❤️

The character everyone else loves that I don’t:

Oh, this is gonna be interesting...I'm gonna be blunt here, Leo. Don't get me wrong, I like him a lot and he has some amazing moments, but he doesn't necessarily have the snark that makes Raph and Donnie stand out, and the sunshine and humor that makes Mikey so endearing. I love Blue, but he's 4th place out of the four. 💙

The character I love that everyone else hates:

Hmm...probably Shredder. I've seen people say that his motivation is pretty lame (which, in some way, it kind of is) but he's not just a bratty child. He's a really twisted villain and seems to really believe his motivations are completely justified - and you can't deny he's completely ruthless in battle. Really exemplifies the concept of the head of the Foot - and honestly, I think he's a great villain.

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

Probably April. I liked her a lot when I was younger (the concept of girl power and she's got a potential romance with my favorite turtle? Sign me up!), but once I got older...she really grated on my nerves. Don't get me wrong, I like her in season 1; she's an inexperienced teenager who's dealing with the pain of having her dad be kidnapped and is meeting some new friends along the way. Season 2 onwards? I wanted to strangle her. Not just because of the love triangle (although that is a part of it,) but also because she lost a lot of that awkwardness that made her likable in season 1, and just became a cliche girlboss. But she wasn't even likable there; she just felt like the token female character needed to add "diversity" to the group.

The character I would totally smooch:

See my first answer. 💜

The character I’d want to be like:

Probably Raph; minus the short temper, I'd love to have the skills he has and the undying love with an animal - be it Spike/Slash or Chompy. Plus, the sass. ❤️

The character I’d slap:

Well, I already mentioned April, but I like her in season 1 so that saves her. And it's kind of a cliche choice to pick a villain, so let's pick someone that I've despised since the beginning - even when I was a dumb kid.

Casey.

Does he get better in later seasons? Yeah, I'd say so; he becomes less in your face and more...just annoying, but kinda like Mikey annoying where you can't hate him. But in season 2, I wanted to strangle him too - and admittedly, still kinda do. He's way too obnoxious for his own good, is way too gross in his flirting with April (he's not chauvinistic or anything, but you just roll your eyes a lot of the time), and doesn't back up his bragging or anything with actually being likable, unlike Raph.

So yeah, he's the one.

A pairing that I love:

If you asked me this when I was a kid, I would've said Apritello - April and Donnie. Now, I don't shame anyone if they ship them, but let's just say I way prefer my version in All's Fair in Love and Science (shameless self-promo 😅) where they love each other platonically and April shamelessly teases him about his crush on my OC, Andi.

But to answer, a pair that I love? Mikey and Renet, personally. She captures that inexperience as a Time Master wonderfully, and she never comes off like an idiot - she's just trying to find her footing. And Mikey's so in awe of her that it's kind of adorable. They both have that same kind of childish, free spirit that makes me just want to protect them. 😅🧡

A pairing that I despise:

Okay, there are two.

One is the aforementioned Apritello. I used to like them as a kid, but watching it in hindsight is just cringeworthy. Don't get me wrong, I am all for Donnie having a crush (and admittedly, I'm a sucker for the love at first sight trope), but did they have to make it so forced and awkward? And I understand April feeling uncomfortable and not wanting to ruin their friendship about his feelings for her, but that's what communication is. And by not having that, she just kept leading him on and making him think he had a chance - only to either ignore him or just continue treating him like just a friend. It was so forced and awkward and...ugh.

And for the obvious - Leorai, Leo and Karai. Okay, who thought it was a good idea to imply that two siblings could have a romance - and have it be canon that one sibling had a crush on the other? Don't get me wrong, I love Karai; she's bar none my favorite female character in the show. And like I said, I love Leo - but the crush he had on Karai is what brings his character down for me. If they wrote him as impressed by her skills and seeing the good in her from a platonic point of view, it would've been sweet - and added another layer to Leo's character. But no, they went with the pseudo-incest perspective and made us all creeped out.

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Thank you for the ask, girl! ❤️

@kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @margoteve @jasminarts01 @thelaundrybitch @raphsmuneca @happymoonangel @android-cap-007

#tmnt 2012 #ask game #tagged!#dee's random thoughts

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once-was-muses · 1 year ago

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『 𝙰 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 』 .

repost with the information of your muse , including headcanons , etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts , add some other of your own !

NAME. Abaeze Philip Ojomo

AGE. 29 (circa 1988 when got Snatched™️, actually 64)

SPECIES. Human(?)

GENDER. Male (cis, he/him)

ORIENTATION. Homosexual

INTERESTS. Cars, maths, chess, stargazing, classic literature and poetry, music- Philip's interests are a little all over the place.

PROFESSION. Pre-Fog, Autohaven was the first and only Actual Job he'd had. Before then, it was just odd jobs where he could get them, doing whatever meneal thing people would pay him for.

BODY TYPE. Long and lanky, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Muscular, but in a lean and wiry fashion.

EYES. Once a dark but soft brown, now solid black with pupils that reflect light. Upturned, with heavy lids that give him the appearance of being constantly worried or saddened.

HAIR. Rich black, kept long in braids- along with a short goatee- ever since he moved to America. Pre-Fog, he kept as good care of his braids as he could, taking them out at least once a week to wash his hair and redo them. Nowadays, the most he does with them is pick any stray twigs or leaves out, making sure the chain links he's woven in are still in place.

SKIN. Before the Fog, his skin was naturally deep brown but offset by the lighter scar tissue washed across his form. Now, it's as if the melanism in his skin has taken over every other pigment, the bark-like hide now covering him black as midnight.

FACE. Jaw is angular with a blunt chin, defined cheekbones and a broad nose. Lips are full and seem permanently pulled down at the edges.

HEIGHT. 7'8" (or 6'4" before the Entity's transformation)

COMPANIONS. Very little, both in the past and present. Angelino Azimov, his boss at Autohaven, and his ex Royce Delaney were the closest he'd been to another human being since his entire family was taken. He finds the vast majority of company in the Fog obnoxious at most amicable- with the exception of Rin, Carmina, Ms. Smitherson, the littles Legionnaire, and (in small doses) Max.

ANTAGONISTS. There are far too many to name. One already mentioned above. It's much simpler to leave it at that.

COLORS. Blues, browns, greys, white, and black

FRUITS. Citrus, especially lemon. It's his favorite flavor for sweets, too.

DRINKS. Water is the only option anymore. But he occasionally misses Ale 8, a soda he'd bought on a whim at a (unaffiliated) gas station and continued to buy a bottle of when his monthly paycheck rolled in (read: was handed to him in small bills) as a sort of tradition.

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ? He's never been particularly interested in alcohol, despising the taste. The only alcoholic drink he ever liked was a pink lemonade wine cooler.

SMOKES ? As morbidly ironic as it is considering his childhood, he developed a smoking habit shortly before coming to America. Needless to say he doesn't get much of a chance to continue with this in the Fog.

DRUGS ? Never. He saw what it did to some of the soldiers razing his home country, what happened when some of his people got ahold of it, lived only a few blocks from a regular spot for junkies- not to mention the assumptions that followed him as a black man in the 70s and 80s. Anything that could've tempted him on the streets didn't have much of a chance to charm him.

DRIVERS LICENSE ? He never had a driver's license. (But that didn't stop Azimov from having him move the cars in and out of the garage and around the lot. Or messing around in the driver's seat of one of the staff lorries.)

Tagged by: @janeromeroshow 💙

Tagging: whoever wants it òvó

#dash games tag tba #A Shadow's Rage : The Wraith

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lathalea · 3 years ago

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Day 25: Blame it on Cider, part 5

Here's today's fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info).

Hello, my beloved readers! Kudos for sticking around for nearly a whole month with me and my silly stories! 💙

Did you miss Thorin and Yrsa? Good, because they are back! I hope you remember how the last part ended: while the Orcs attacked Thorin’s merchant caravan, Yrsa and the baby escaped. Unfortunately, she didn’t meet Thorin again at the agreed time and place and started suspecting the worst.

I wrote this part in a real hurry, so I’m sorry about any errors etc. in advance.

Today's prompt: word: obnoxious

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x Yrsa (Dwarf Female OC) Rating: T Word count: 3,5 k words Warnings: um, cold, mentions of bodily harm (just a tiny bit, nothing gorey), winter, and you’ll get a glimpse of how a typical Viking quarrel looks like (yes, this is a self-deprecating joke, ha ha, not funny) how the exhausted and almost completely frozen Dwarves try to quarrel, also: freezing cold

A special author’s note for @bitter-sweet-farmgirl: This part is longer especially for you, so you won't forget it so easily next time ;)

As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.

Have you missed the previous parts? Here they are:

Khuzdul: Lulkh - fool Inbarathrag - goat Ursarusê - my tiny fire Khaglâ-dûm - Blue Halls (name of a Dwarven settlement shamelessly made up by me) Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls (the place in the Blue Mountains where Longbeards lived after Sack of Erebor)

* * *

Blame It on Cider, part 5

Two months later

It has been over a year since Yrsa last drank cider, but she promised herself one thing: when this miserable escapade of hers was finally over and she was safely back at home, she was going to get herself seriously drunk. But first, she would make sure that there were no men around. She learned that lesson well.

The greatest flaw in her plan was that she found herself several days away from home. There had been barely any snow in the Blue Mountains in November and Yrsa was convinced that she could easily make one quick trip to a nearby village and back before the winter blizzards made the mountain trails impassable. Her dear childhood friend, Haldis, was about to have a baby and asked Yrsa to assist her when the time came. Yrsa was more than happy to oblige. The delivery was easy and without any complications. Haldis gave birth to a strong baby boy and her husband threw a feast to celebrate the blessed event. While everyone drank ale, Yrsa drank water, and now she regretted it deeply. If she drank anything else, even a cup of mead, she would probably have a hangover. Which meant that she would stay in the village for a few days longer. But a stupid encounter with a stupid king a year ago (who, later on, probably was stupid enough to lose his life fighting off the Orcs while she stupidly escaped instead of helping him) made her abstain from alcohol. Ugh. Not thinking about the king, not now. Frozen tears are not fun. Moving on to the downsides of being sober. Anyway, when that stupid snowstorm came all of a sudden, Yrsa (instead of laying in a comfy bed in Haldis’ home and complaining about a headache) was caught in the middle of it, completely unprepared. Thus, the stupid frozen tears that were absolutely not welling in her stupid eyes at all as she marched home.

That stupid snow covered the stupid mountain trail and she had to plow her way through the stupid snowdrifts while ignoring the stupid snowflakes getting stuck to her face. And on top of that, there was that stupid freezing wind. It felt as if her cheeks would fall off any moment now. She wrapped her thick scarf around her face, leaving only her eyes uncovered. That helped a bit. But there was something that made her situation worse. Curse her bad luck! The sky was darkening rapidly and it seemed that the wind was becoming even stronger. And if that was not enough, the stupid snowflakes decided to magically turn into miniature icicles at that very moment, viciously prickling her skin.

Yrsa tried to speed up, but how fast can you walk with snow reaching up to your thighs and merciless headwind trying to topple you over? Even so, she soldiered on and climbed arduously up the slope, trying to ignore the tiredness in her legs. She had to reach that ridge ahead of her before the last light of the day disappeared. There was a small shepherd hut in one of the caverns and she wanted to stay there for the night. It was only used in summer so it stood empty and cold now, but it would provide her with shelter from the weather. And who knows, maybe the shepherds left some of their food there? Shut up, Yrsa’s stomach, there was still some leftover food from the feast in her travelling sack. She just had to get to that hut, get the fire going and all would be well.

It wasn’t. Of course. She should have expected it. Bad luck struck again. Yrsa was halfway to the cavern, barely seeing anything through the relentless waves of icy snow directed at her by the stupid wind, when she stumbled over something and slipped, falling face down into the snow. It hurt when she tried to get up. It hurt when she tried to stand on her right foot. With a helpless grunt, she slumped down on the snow. Multiple layers of clothing, including her thick leather trousers made it impossible to check her leg, but she was almost certain that her ankle was sprained. It would start swelling soon. She wouldn’t make it to the shepherds’ hut now, unable to stand on her leg and walk, not mentioning crawling in that snow, with the blizzard becoming more and more aggressive. Yrsa knew she didn’t have much time. She was still warm now, but she stopped moving a while back and her body had already started giving her some not so subtle hints about the biting cold. Think, Yrsa, think… She needed to do something. Otherwise, when the snows melt in spring, the shepherds would find her frozen body and then write on her gravestone: “Here lies Yrsa, daughter of Yri. Died a pathetic death because she was stupid enough not to drink ale at a feast (and she didn’t drink because she was terrified of doing another stupid mistake like the one involving that stupid cider and that stupid blacksmith,no, a king and his stupid lips… and his other body parts, and she stupidly ran away, and now he’s gone, and she’s freezing to death, but nevermind, there’s not enough space on this gravestone to write it all anyway)”.

“Get up!” Perfect. Now she was hallucinating from the cold. The wind was howling above her, and she was imagining things. How did the wind learn Khuzdul anyway?

“Get up, you lulkh! You will freeze to death here if you don’t!” The wind roared at her angrily and then something appeared in front of her. A hallucination. A hallucination that gripped her coat and lifted her up from the ground, as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. She cried out in pain, instinctively resting on her stupid right leg.

“I have injured my ankle, you inbarathrag! I can’t walk!” Yrsa shouted at the dark silhouette in front of her, trying to be louder than the wind. Funny how the hallucination wore a dwarven coat with a hood, just like hers, and how hard its chest felt under her gloved hand as she tried to steady herself.

The hallucination grunted, “Are you traveling alone?”

“Yes, I was on my way to…” Yrsa started.

“I’ll carry you,” the hallucination interrupted her. A pair of arms wrapped around her. She was lifted unceremoniously off the ground, thrown over a shoulder and across his back. Yes, it was a “he”. Judging by the timbre of voice, even though barely audible in the howling wind, it definitely couldn’t be a Dwarf-woman.

“Hey! It hurt!” Yrsa protested.

“Good, at least we know that you do not suffer from frostbite yet, boy,” he grunted and moved ahead.

“I’m not a boy!” she mumbled into his arm and shifted. It felt definitely too corporeal to be a hallucination.

“Be quiet and stop moving!” the corporeal… someone snapped at her.

“If you go towards the eastern ridge, there is a…”

The Dwarf stopped in his tracks.

“I said: be quiet!” He let out a roar. “Save your strength!”

Yrsa huffed, but decided not to grace this obnoxious brute with an answer. The obnoxious brute in question started walking again, climbing up the slope roughly towards the direction she had been going. All she could do was wait, clench her teeth, and try to get her mind off the pulsing pain in her leg.

He was a Dwarf, that was obvious. She hoped he wouldn’t turn out to be some kind of a bandit. No. He couldn’t be. She would already be dead by now. But who in their right mind would travel through the mountains in this weather? Except for her, of course.

Just then the Dwarf stumbled, but regained the balance quickly. When she asked whether he was well, he didn’t respond. As he marched ahead, he stumbled several times more. It seemed that his left leg was more prone to fail him and so he favoured the right one.

“We are here!” He finally stopped and placed her against a wall so she could support herself.

They were at the shepherds’ hut. The mysterious Dwarf helped her inside, and bolted the door behind them, shutting it in the face of the howling wind and snow outside. Good riddance. Ysa rested her back against a wall and sighed in relief, taking off her scarf and hood. She was shaking out the ice from her hair when she heard a shout and then something hard and heavy bumped into her.

“Yrsa!”

“Ummpf,” she responded eloquently, unable to breathe as a pair of arms wrapped around her in an iron grip, and her face was pressed against a coat.

“Thank Mahal, you are alive and well!” She heard the Dwarf speak, his voice strangely muffled.

“Th… Thorin?” Yrsa finally recognized him as his hand cupped the back of her head, pressing her into him.

“I thought I would never find you...”

“Is that really you?”

They spoke at the same time, and Yrsa suddenly noticed that her hand was pressed against his bearded cheek. She could feel the shards of ice under her palm. He definitely didn’t feel anything like a hallucination. Thorin was really there.

“It is me,” he murmured huskily.

“I thought you were… I thought the Orcs…” she started.

His azure gaze rested on her, making her heart flip, his hood was off, revealing his reddened cheeks, the noble line of his nose, and that sable mane of hair she remembered so well, and her knees weakened, and then she forgot about everything else and kissed him, ignoring the ice against her skin that covered his moustache. It didn’t matter. His touch was warm, oh so very warm, and his lips scorched her with passion as he claimed her mouth, and she responded with equal fervour, and there was that pleasant buzzing in her head, as if she was drunk on cider again.

“Yrsa… Yrsa...” her name left his lips between his intoxicating kisses, but she didn’t care, her whole body tingling with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Thorin was here now, alive, safe and sound, and she didn’t feel the cold nor the pain anymore, because she was in her blacksmith’s arms. No. In the king’s arms. She froze. And it had nothing to do with the blizzard outside.

“Yrsa, I need to know…” he muttered, their lips finally parting.

Her eyes traveled to the soft curve of his lower lip. The king’s lower lip. Words deserted her. What was she doing? Kissing the king, of all people?! Again? Was she out of her mind?! “Ursarusê… Where is she?” His words reached her, a soft murmur.

Oh.

“The babe is safe with my family,” She spoke carefully. By the way, how had it happened that she was now stuck between a certain Dwarf and the wall? Suddenly, Yrsa needed more breathing space.

“Thank Mahal the merciful!” Tho… the king, the King of Longbeards exclaimed.

“But what does it matter to you?” Yrsa frowned. Yrsa was sure she should have used some decorous kingly title at the end of that sentence, but she was too exhausted to come up with one. Oh, and by the way, her leg was starting to hurt even more.

“Yrsa…” he purred and gently pressed his forehead against hers. “How can you ask that? The babe is our gift from Mahal. I am going to take you to my halls and take care of you and the little one. I wish to…”

“What are you talking about?” She moved away.

“I am talking about Ursarusê, who else?”

“But it is I who found her in that forest, not you! What do you want with her?” Yrsa crossed her arms across her chest.

Now it was his turn to freeze. And pale slightly.

“Found… her?” Thorin uttered carefully. “So she is not…?”

His voice trailed off and then she finally understood both his puzzling concern from before, his insisting on making sure she would be safe together with the babe.

“Oh, by Mahal’s hammer,” she chuckled nervously, bringing her hand to her lips. “You didn’t really think that she was your child? And mine? What a silly idea!”

He responded with a grunt and stepped back, looking away. Without his support, she swayed, letting out a gasp of pain.

“Allow me,” the king said gruffly and made Yrsa lean against him. He quickly transported her to a bed near the well-lit hearth, making sure she sat down comfortably. She stole a glance at his face, his features schooled into an impenetrable mask. Stupid Yrsa. Stupid words, stupid nervous chuckling at the most inappropriate moment. Stupid leg. Stupid snow. Stupid blacksmiths that turn out to be kings. Stupid cider.

“Would you…” she cleared her throat and spoke in a tiny voice, studying the grey blanket on the bed. Suddenly, the woven pattern looked very interesting. “I… I think my ankle is swollen. I don’t think I can remove that boot on my own.”

He only nodded, crouching and helping her with the boot, never speaking a word to her. In different circumstances, with a Dwarf who was, for example, a blacksmith, only a blacksmith and not a king, she would probably turn the whole situation into a flirty joke, teasing him about bringing him to her feet, and they would both laugh, and everything would be fine again. Now however, shame burned her cheeks. An offended king on his knees (a king, for Mahal’s sake!), pulling a boot off the foot of some commoner, was not a funny story, not at all.

Yrsa had no other option but to focus on what she knew best and instructed the Dwarf (trying to forget that this was, in fact, a king) on how to take care of her sprained ankle. His movements were careful and efficient. The way he bandaged her told her that it wasn’t the first time he did a similar thing (even though he was a king and he probably had servants to do it for him!). When Thorin was done, he asked her about any other possible injuries and discomforts in a detached tone of voice, but she only shook her head.

“Get some rest now,” he rose, speaking to the wall above Yrsa and then turned to the hearth. With his broad back in the way, it took her some time to realize that he started preparing a meal. As her body warmed up, exhaustion caught up with her rather suddenly. The last thing she remembered was wrapping herself in her thick coat and resting her head on the pillow.

Thorin woke her up sometime later and presented her with a bowl of stew, a deep frown still etched on his face. As they ate, the silence painfully rang in Yrsa’s ears. It hurt more than her ankle.

“Ursarusê is a foundling. When I met you, I was on the way to Khaglâ-dûm. I wanted to find a good family for her there,” she tried, her words echoing against the walls of the cavern.

“But you did not,” the sounds he made resembled the grunts of a wild animal. A wounded animal. Stupid Yrsa. “Just as you did not go to the Longbeards’ Halls.”

“To… where?” That place was completely unfamiliar to her, and she thought she knew the Blue Mountains quite well.

“To the halls of my people.”

“Ah, you mean the place where your sister lives…? Thorinuldûm?”

The king flinched, “Not the most fortunate of names.”

“Then why did you name it this way?” Yrsa understood less and less. Wasn’t he supposed to be that vain, prideful king who established a city in his own name?

“I am afraid that I had no say in this matter,” Thorin shrugged uncomfortably, his voice rising slightly, like a murmur of thunder. “You, however… You never went to see my sister. I believed that… no matter. Do I understand correctly that you simply chose not to visit the place at all? Not to meet me again?”

He shook his head and focused on his stew.

Yrsa poked at a chunk of meat with her spoon.

“I waited for you at the gates of Khaglâ-dûm for as long as I could,” she put her bowl away, even though it was still half full. Her stomach was tied in a knot.

“We were delayed. The wagons needed to be repaired after the attack,” he spoke after a pause, his eyes on the food. “And there were wounded.”

“Your leg?” she recalled. “Was it…” “It is fine,” he interrupted her harshly.

Once again, that horrible silence filled the cavern, torturing her.

“I did not go to your sister, because…” Yrsa paused, gathering all her strength and trying to find the right words. “Because I had to think of Ursarusê. I wanted to reach home as soon as possible. I didn’t want to impose on your family. An unknown woman with a babe in her arms - that would mean two more mouths to feed. Besides, why would your sister, princess Dis, help someone like me? I’m a Firebeard, and only a simple herbalist.”

Thorin studied her for a long while. Yrsa shifted nervously under his gaze.

“She would help any person in need. My family knows hardships all too well,” he finally spoke.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Yrsa. Why has she forgotten all about the Sack of Erebor? He was a proud Dwarf, a descendant of Durin, and she had just hinted at his family being not only too poor to help her, but also too cold-hearted.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Your majesty,” she finally recalled the correct title.

“Stop mocking me, Yrsa,” he gritted his teeth and stood up, empty bowl in his hand, his knuckles white.

“But… I’m not.” She was at a loss. It seemed that whatever she did on that day was wrong.

Thorin gave out a resigned sigh and approached her, stretching out his arm towards her.

Handing him her bowl, she stole a glance at his stone face, but his gaze was focused on the bowls in his hands.

“I do not understand you, Yrsa. First you… you choose me to spend a night with, and you seem to enjoy it, but afterwards, you disappear without a trace. Then we meet again, and you smile at me the same way as you did before, you promise to meet me, but you never do. Now you embrace me, teary-eyed, you kiss me, and then you push me away. What do you want from me, woman?”

Mahal, if he only knew. Shut up, Yrsa’s brain. There is nothing you should want from him. Thorin is a king. A king. Not a village blacksmith.

“Thorin, I’m… I’m sorry. You must think me a fool. You see, well, I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position,” her voice trembled slightly and she cursed herself. Stupid voice. “When I realized who you were, I didn’t want you to feel… obliged to anything.”

A sad chuckle rumbled in his chest, closer to a cough than a laughter.

“Is that why you left that wedding feast in such a hurry? Because you did not want anything from me so very badly?” Thorin spoke slowly and sat at the edge of the bed with a grunt, straightening his left leg.

Yrsa nodded, her ears burning. Why was he so bloody calm about it? Any other Dwarf would now shout, or growl, or stomp, or try to convince her to marry him because honor demanded it or something along these lines. But he just sat there with a frown, unmoving, like a piece of giant rock. And then he chuckled. How dare he? Giant rocks don’t chuckle!

“Is it so very funny?” she asked timidly. Her ears had to be on fire at that point.

“Oh, Yrsa. You are one of a kind. It seems that you always have to have it your way, doesn’t it?” he lowered his voice to a murmur. Low, velvety purr, like that dark wildflower honey she adored so much.

She gave out a helpless ‘hmph’ in response.

“If you do not wish to talk, at least allow me to speak the words I wished to say to you in Ash Creek,” he turned to face her, and there was a glint in his azure eyes, and it was so very not fair of him to have eyes like her favourite gems, sapphires.

“No!” She protested, backing away into the opposite corner of the bed. Oh sweet Mahal, it couldn’t be happening, not now! Couldn’t this Dwarf take a hint? This was not the time for THAT question, there was never a time for it! “No, there is no need to speak of anything! I do not need to hear it! Everything is fine! And besides… Besides, I'm tired!”

Yrsa gave out the most spectacular yawn in her life. She should have joined a theatre troupe with her skill.

Thorin rested his hand on the grey blanket that covered the bed. His fingers twitched.

“Very well, then. Let us sleep,” he rumbled. Yrsa didn’t understand why there was an amused spark in his eyes.

And then it dawned on her. There was only one bed in the cavern.

To be continued...

* * *

Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it!

Fell like reading more? Here is my masterlist for the Writer's Month 2021 event.

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @justfollowtheroad @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @tschrist1 @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @shalinizhara @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl

#writersmonth2021 #thorin fic #thorin x yrsa #blame it on cider #what about the babe?#thorin #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit fic #thorin fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 1 year ago

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https://youtube.com/shorts/FFW7RPHdbKk?si=VdfFPpWHuRb7K6DD

Honestly this

#me but i wake up like huh that was realistic af #being obnoxious and blue 💙💙

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writingandmore · 2 years ago

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hello!! could i maybe get two matchups from danganronpa (maybe from two separate games- if not thats perfectly ok!!), please? i'm an autistic trans man, and i'm gay. i'm an INTP and 6w7. i'm 5'5 with short light blue and white hair + freckles, a beauty mark and hazel eyes. i'm a selective mute, so i tend to be very withdrawn and awkward with people, mostly choosing to sign to them instead. i'm extremely patient and understanding, though despite that i can be extremely oblivious to other's intentions unless they're outright stated to me. i'm very kind, though i speak very bluntly and i always worry about unintentionally hurting others. i tend to gravitate more to more outgoing people, or those who are more confident than me. i'm very easy to fluster, and i'm often described as a cat in the way that i show my affections. my hobbies are writing and drawing, but i have special interests in anime. im very talkative around those i feel comfortable with, which isnt uncommon since i trust people very blindly, like a puppy really. i speak very formally compared to most others and my constant talking to them, usually about my special interests is mainly how i show affection. thank you 💙

I pair you with Kokichi!

-Kokichi is extremely talkative, to the point where to many it might be obnoxious. At first, he would see you as someone he could chat with without getting much pushback from you, but once he learns more about your patient and kind personality, that would change. Your blunt way of speaking wouldn't phase him too much (unless he was being dramatic), because you would be one of the only people who is consistently kind to him. He's certainly outgoing, and, although his self-confidence is mostly a farce, he still projects it quite a bit, so you would probably be drawn to him more so than some others.

#kokichi ouma #danganronpa matchup

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welllpthisishappening · 2 years ago

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Ive told you this before, and ill probably twll you every year, but blue line made me interested in hockey back in 2019. fast foward three years and im stressing about the rangers when im supposed to be working and i want to thank you with my whole heart and lay 100% of the blame of my stress at your feet. 💙❤️🤍

I've told you all before, and I'll probably tell you every time I get a message like this, but:

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY HANDS? SHOULD I JUST SHOUT FOR SEVENTEEN MINUTES STRAIGHT? WOULD IT BE WEIRD TO START JUMPING UP AND DOWN? THIS IS SO NICE? YOU ALL ARE SO NICE? I AM ONLY MARGINALLY SORRY FOR CAUSING YOU HOCKEY-RELATED STRESS!

I accept this blame, too. With a heart close to bursting and a very strong sense of pride in my ability to make people care about the things that I care about. It's my goal, really. That being said! It really, genuinely, for realz blows my mind that I am still getting messages about Blue Line and hearing that people care about this team of obnoxious, hug-prone children because they read like 800,000 words that I wrote. It's patently incredible and wonderful and I will never get over it.

Also, I hope we win tonight.

#laura rambles #blue line rambles #anonymous #i plotted a next-gen story on my drive to work this morning #can't stop won't stop

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aceghosts · 3 years ago

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all of hearts + blue xx

Thank you for this one! It turned out long and I had to put part of it under a read more.

[OC Emoji Asks]

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

Adrenaline.

I know this is meant to be a question about what gets their heart beating in a romantic sense, but Adrenaline literally always gets Blue's heart racing. Whether they jump out of a plane hundreds of feet above the ground, scale sharp mountainsides, or race down snowy slopes, Adrenaline always gets their blood pumping. Blue's partners enjoy the additional benefit of an extremely affectionate Blue high on Adrenaline.

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

I don’t know that Blue believes 100% in love at first sight, but they aren’t entirely willing to discount it either. I think if Blue encountered something close to love at first sight, they would believe in it.

Blue looks for a few key traits in their relationships. First, they appreciate a great deal of honesty from their partner. Blue wants to know what their partner is thinking; they don’t always appreciate being lied to or manipulated by their partner. Out of Blue's ships, I think Grace would be the most honest with Blue. Joseph is just cryptic as fuck.

Second, Blue requires a great deal of trust from their partner, and they’re willing to give that level of trust back. They live a dangerous life; Blue wants their partner to trust that Blue knows what they’re getting into. Blue also wants to trust their partner to know their own limits. I think Grace and Joseph are willing to trust Blue, but Joseph is definitely the worrier.

Lastly, I think Blue appreciates softness or emotional intimacy. They don’t want someone who is always guarded with them or always feels the need to be tough around everyone. Blue likes it when their partners are open about their emotions around them. I think Grace and Joseph are probably good at this, just in different ways.

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticeable? what changes when they’re in love?

Not always. Blue jokes a lot and is very touchy-feely with their friends. Most likely, no one would notice that Blue had a crush unless their crush was openly flirting back with them. There are subtle clues if you pay attention. Blue jokes get a little more flirtatious, starting out subtle in the beginning. Plus, they’re more affectionate than normal.

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

Physical Touch is their biggest love language, but Quality Time and Words of Affirmation are a close second.

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn’t around?

It does not appear so, but Blue definitely misses their partner easily. They’re a bit of a softie, so naturally, they’re always a little sad to see their partner go. However, they’re pretty much themself when their partner isn’t around. Blue understands that sometimes you spend time apart, and they try to take it in stride. If their partner is gone for a long time, Blue might get slightly mopey, but they can be cheered up, usually by Boomer or friends.

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

Hugs! Blue is a big hugger, and they always feel comforted by their partners hugging them. They’re also a big cuddler, which helps whenever Blue feels like they’re having an off day.

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

Blue is definitely a showy lover, but not in a typically obnoxious way. They generally like to hold their partner’s hand and will gesture wildly while holding their partner’s hand during a conversation. Blue will also kiss their partner on the cheek or sling their arm around a partner’s waist. However, they tend to keep it pretty PG. Blue never wants to make anyone uncomfortable.

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

Blue isn’t really a love letter writer. If anything, they might leave a sticky note or a folded piece of paper with a short note for their partner. The note would probably be reminding their partner of something important, and Blue would sign it as ‘Love, Blue’.

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

Besides the super obvious, I think it depends on the ship.

Joseph has done a lot of terrible shit already, and thus, I think Blue's threshold would be higher. I actually can’t be too specific about this one, because it involves a spoiler for Blue's canon, and I want to write this fic. Thus, I don’t want to give it away. Suffice to say, let’s just say it involves Jacob.

For Grace, I think if Grace defected to Eden’s Gate, that would break Blue’s heart. However, that would never happen and be really out of character for Grace. The only other thing that I think would break Blue’s heart is if Grace gave up. Like if Grace just decided to give up fighting the Peggies, I think it would break Blue’s heart, and they would feel kind of betrayed. However, I think they would try to respect that decision.

#kate answers asks #thank you for the ask!!!!#sorry this turned out so long!!#also Blue is just a huge softie and really just wants to shower their so with love #blue murphy

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