#dark mousy harem

[incorrect-dnangel-quotes]

Risa: Welcome to the "Fuck Dark Club" where we all gather together to collectively showcase our collective love for Dark the Phantom thief

Krad: *looks from Risa, to Daisuke, to Riku*

Riku: *Hiding face cause she doesn't want to admit to being here by choice*

Krad: I think I may have misunderstood *starts to walk out*

Satoshi: *immediately takes over the body and walks back in to take seat*

Satoshi @ Krad: So help me we're pretending we still misunderstand the point

[vindvin]

օƒ ցօӀժ ąղժ çɾìʍʂօղ.

𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖕𝖝𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙.

two months worth of writing, this thread encompasses most.

pxssionfruit/thegildedone ; Chailee's hands were bunched into fists of rage at her sides as she refrained herself from lashing out at the commotion that had overtaken the townsquare. A shoe flew past her head, falling miserably when it didn't hit it's supposed target of her father who stood in the midst of it all, his arms raised as he preached on. A snort slipped past her mouth and it only earned her a glare from the man in front of her. And soon enough, the poker face was back, her ears perking up at the mention of the catastrophe that caused the whole town to gather. Oh, how she'd love for it to be for a feast instead of the issue at hand. "It must be done! A virgin girl or the whole town will perish! We have no choice!" her father, Robert exclaimed in an exasperated tone which did nothing to reassure the frenzied town since he only got shouts and yells and another surge of shoe hits. Chailee remembered the story and lore about how a girl would be dolled pompously and be sent off amidst a flutter of flowers and tears to the mansion that sat atop the hill to the monster that lived there, never to be seen again. It was the tale that got children to scamper to bed every evening, the kind to even make grown men shiver in their worn boots and the old women to whisper and add more than necessary spices to the story. The antagonists of the stories differed all the time; some said he was just a cruel man who wanted a harem of young girls, some imagined a fearsome diety who was always famished and liked feasting on the souls of virgins and so on. She'd never believed in any of it... until now, that is. Even then, it was just a speck of doubt that had nestled itself in her mind. "We can't let our daughters be sacrificed to such evil anymore!" a woman screeched, causing Chailee to snap out of her reverie. Dark gaze followed the span of the crowd to land of the stout woman who had called out. From her spot, Chailee could notice the tear streaks that had stained Mrs. Lee's plump and red face, the woman a haphazard mess as she pushed forward so she could stand face to face with Robert. The girl who was no older than 16 summers thought back to the time when the town had such meeting again; it was 10 years ago and she was just a tiny little creature, clinging onto her father's leg in fear as the crowded kept shouting again. Back then, it was Mrs. Lee's daughter who was sacrificed. Bone chilling horror was quick to settle in Chailee's body when she realized that Bethany had been the same age as she was now. She was quick to gauge the situation; there were several other girls of the same age and they were all considered at the ripest time to live their lives, marriage ensuing soon for most. The ongoing argument would soon dwindle down to select the lamb and it was only a matter of time before the girl was gone and life would resume again for everyone else. Sure, the occasional prayer of remembrance would take place but really, no one would care for another ten years or so. It had to stop. For the sake of all of their futures. Chailee's feet moved on their own accord, small yet lithe frame pushing past the people in front to get to the front, her face composed in relaxed resilience. Or maybe, defiance was the more appropriate term. "I volunteer." She spoke, tone loud and calm as if waiting for the impending loom of the storm. The crowd quieted down in shock, her father staring back absolutely flabbergasted. It was strange how she found the way his mouth fell open and closed like a fish as he tried to find the words to take sense into her funny. But there was no talking the girl back. "Do not stop me, father. I should be no different than any other girl here. Please." There was no argument after that. Instead, the crowd dissipated to get the preparations of the farewell done. She knew what would follow; prayers to bid her goodbye and a safe journey (though she didn't know whether it was to the mansion or to the afterlife), feasts to fatten her up, bathes and pampering to make sure she looked the part of a pretty lamb. She had always been sure it was an act and never one for fanfare, she'd made up her mind. In two days, she would be sent off on the lonely path to the haunted mansion but Chailee had other plans. She left that very night, quiet and clad in the simplest of outfit of trousers and a shirt. They were the clothes of a man, much less one of a young woman but she didn't care. She'd filled her burlap bag with her favorite books and armed herself with her father's sickle just in case and off she was, on her way to her doom with the tune of the local lullaby on her lips.

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venitempus/vindvin ;

all good stories begin with ‘once upon a time’ and end with ‘happily ever after’. his once upon a time started in 1401, when a silly little boy decided to play with a witty old hag. still a teenager back then, he believed his charm, his promise of love, and his adoring gaze would be enough to make her bless him forever. he loved living, and wanted to live forever – she loved him, so she granted his wish. but, when she was preparing her potion, she saw – he was holding another. enraged, and betrayed she made sure his ‘forever after’ would be filled with pain, and suffering. so much pain that he would wish he was dead, but he would never be able to die. a bitter heart brings about a bitter life – and with the taste of iron on his lips, he succumbed to his deepest, narcissistic desires. centuries melted in a pot – all that hatred, that rage, that unfathomable hunger. he has lived through it all, over and over again. it was his curse to fall, and rise with the tide, it was his demeanour that made him a monster, that made him impossible to look at. his fangs so sharp, they would tear anything apart – and they did. when he stepped out of the shadows people would quiver, their pale bodies would crumble – in an unexplainable worship, infatuation, admiration. beauty was his curse. and blood was a cure he could not afford – the price of life for his immortality, he paid it even when he did not want to. he tore everyone apart – their hearts meant nothing to him, his own was stone cold. his ‘happily ever after’ ended when the first drip of blood coated his sinful tongue. his handsome features did not wilt over eons of suffering, and his oh-so-sweet smile never perished in front of a challenge – the witch did not take away the one thing she fell for. he must admit, after centuries of fun, being stuck in a castle was quite boring, to the point that he would do anything for a little entertainment. this era was disobedient, they casted him out like a stranger – even though he owned them, he was their rightful ruler. he was forced to inflict pain and fear from afar, he was obliged to hide his face from them – and what a pity it was, for his eyes were truly mesmerising. he could not hide for long, though. so he invented the cursed terms – he wanted his fun, so he asked for a new companion every year. a young girl would be sent off to visit the mysterious dark castle, and she almost always arrived on a stormy night. seeking warmth, quivering in fear – she would step inside never to be seen again. he did create the myth of it all quite well, his servants mingled with the public and spread rumours, rumours turned into a cry for help. but he was not really interested in stripping these maidens, or taking them forcefully. that was rather disgusting to him – although, they always ended up begging to be taken. his purpose was another, he wanted to have someone that could challenge him intellectually, that could put up with his moods, his wit, his temperament – someone he could make his companion for life. he was rather lonely, and as mentioned, very bored. but all girls who ended up in his company were either too scared, or too promiscuous. so what can a poor vampire do when his prey does not behave? of course he had to kill them, one by one. *** “sire,” a man entered, quivering from head to foot, covered in water. it was a stormy night, and aloysius was stuck inside yet again, obliged to watch the drops of water wash his immense windows, draping his legs over his throne’s armrests. with a bored expression, and a frown that would tell anyone to ‘cut their story short’, aloysius addresses his subject. “what is the matter now, latrell?” his gaze drifted, as a small object caught his interest. it was shining in the old man’s hands, and he put an effort into hiding it. aloysius’ smirk grew, and in a swift movement, he was in front of the old man, startling him with his speed. “s-sire, I-“ aloysius pressed a finger over his lips to keep him quiet. the man’s face turned red, and he wanted to scurry away quickly. he grabbed the silver dagger from the man’s hands with a twisted smile, playing with it like it was a toy. “are you trying to kill me? how exciting, latrell! but you have to do better than this, really,” his smirk grew wider, he leaned in to whisper in his ear. his voice deeper, and emotionless. “silver does not kill me, but it sure kills a silly human,” aloysius pressed the dagger against the man’s chest, watching him gasp for air with a smile. he pushed the dagger in, the man stopped breathing. after he dropped dead, aloysius stepped over his body and walked away, still bored out of his mind. “thank you for trying, marley. but that was rather anticlimactic. make sure his blood is collected, just in case,” he glanced at is humble servant, a young boy with mousy features. he was head over heels in love with aloysius, and obeyed his every wish. nobody inside the castle liked it when their master was bored, he tended to lash out. so sending ‘hunters’ in was one way to entertain him – and usually they would send more experienced hunters, some that put up a fight. now, those were exciting to kill. *** the big day has arrived, and aloyisus was up early. he hated the sun, and because of his curse, he could not really touch it – it would burn him, but not kill him, so what was the point? he dressed up elegantly, and debated whether he should wear the golden mask, or the black one – he decided gold. he enjoyed hiding his face at the first encounter, he was well-aware that his good looks could charm anyone into submission – and he liked a challenge, he enjoyed it when they squirmed and screamed. when the night fell, he was ready to welcome his new victim. he waited, his servants were around him looking elegant, and put together. aloyisus was towering over all of them, he was rather tall – it made him look more intimidating. when the knock on the door came, aloyisus smirked. he let his servants answer, waiting at the top of the stairs, like a lion awaits its doe. he looked like a masterpiece – the inside of the castle embracing his flawless appearance. it was paradise – and it was hell. the perfect in-between, the home of lost innocence.

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

Chailee had no idea how long she was walking for; all she knew was that the biting cold of the night had started settling over her bones, causing her to shiver despite the line of sweat that had started to appear over her flesh. Goosebumps rose on her skin, her breath slipping out of her mouth in a mist that just melted and disappeared into the fog. The moon had rose into the sky, the wide silver saucer illuminating her path to the haunted castle. There was no speck of stars, nor was there a trace of cloud. It felt ominous, as if the impending loom was not enough to scare her wits off. No, she wouldn't be scared. She snorted another burst of warm cloud and paused her steps, head tilted back to watch the moon for a moment. It was an ugly thing, scarred and imperfect yet it always looked down on the world in what she thought was a dauntingly mocking smile. Her eyes narrowed into little slits as she gazed at it; there were thousands of folklore that surrounded the moon just like how the monster who lived atop the hill was in the middle of others and she had never been one to believe in them. To Chailee, it was always just one moon. That familiar, yellow, solitary moon. The same moon that silently floated over fields of pampas grass, the moon that rose -a gleaming, round saucer- over the calm surface of lakes, that tranquilly beamed down on the rooftops of fast-asleep houses. The same moon that brought the high tide to shore, that softly shone on the fur of animals and enveloped and protected travelers at night. The moon that, as a crescent, shaved slivers from the soul- or, as a new moon, silently bathed the earth in its own loneliness. And she wondered if just like the moon, the monster was lonely. Just as hideous, sinister and mischief filled yet so protective. Sucking on her inner cheek, she resumed her journey, fingers finding the strap of her burlap bag to keep close.The trek to the foot of the hill was a short one, given how the village was small but the moment she'd reached, she was intimidated by how it towered over her, feeling as small as ever. Swallowing her fear, she went on. And as the time passed, the fog grew thicker. So did the stench that rose from the ground. It was mostly the fecal remains of the stray animals, trash that had been disposed carelessly into piles but underlining everything else was something more potent and the cold only made the stench stronger. Chailee could taste it on her tongue and she forced herself to bite back the bile that rose in her throat, eyebrows furrowed with focus. It was a perilous walk, her breath labored as she stumbled on rocky ground that had been littered with several things she had no heart or mind to find out about. She'd fallen to her knees several times, dirt among other things crusting her boots and trousers and when she raised her hand to wipe the sweat off her face, she smeared murky liquid on her caramel skin. At that point, she was sure she was stinking as bad as the hill itself, knowing she looked like a mess. She was regretting not waiting further so that the rest of the villagers would help her up but it was too late; she was on her own. She didn't know what time it was, nor did she have an inclination of how long it took her to reach the top, her destination barely a couple of feet away. From up close, it looked like a castle instead of a manor or a house so many people had called it. It felt like a fortress too, with arcs that disappeared way over her head and poles that seemed to disappear into the sky. Chailee felt insignificant standing at the foot of the steps that led to the porch and discarding the stick she'd picked up earlier to help herself, she climbed up, almost flinching at the way the wood groaned under her weight. She couldn't flee now, nor was she going to allow herself to be scared. Swallowing thickly, she raised her fist to rap thrice on the wooden door which caused it to creak open under one particular knock. As it heavily swung open, her steps slowed down as she took her first step in. "H-hello?" she hadn't expected her tone to come out in such a mousy squeak so squaring her shoulders and stepping further into the foyer. "Hello? Anybody home?" This time her voice echoed off the walls of the castle, bouncing off the corners and into the dark hallways. It was fascinating to say the least, how her normally huskier tone could sound so hollow and as the echo increased, it got deeper as if it were a monstrous groan who gave her a reply. They came in like some sort of pageantry formation, aligned and barely making a noise. Her breath hitched in her throat and she involuntarily took a step back but halted, figuring from their decent clothes, they were simply servants. They couldn't hurt her, right? The brief thought of taking out the sickle in her bag passed through her mind until one of them spoke, the man in the middle who bowed his head to her as if she was some sort of reality. "Welcome, Miss. My name is Marley and please, you have no reason to fear being here." Chailee wasn't sure if she heard him correctly, his words earning an arched brow. Sure, she had no fear. But figuring that a snarky quip would do her more harm than good, she nodded and composed her face into what she hoped to be a serene smile. It just came off as awkward and toothy. Marley nodded, gesturing the other servants to make way before he motioned for her to follow him. And she did, eyes wide as she took in the sight of the somewhat grandiose castle. Despite it's dark and morose decor, it was calming and aloof. Definitely a juxtaposition from the colorful ways of the village she was from. Her visage had contorted into one of awe as she took everything in, not having realized that they had stopped only coming to a standstill the moment dark gaze fell onto the man who stood at the top of the grande staircase. He exuded power, even from where she stood. The kind who preyed on the weaker ones. Yet somehow, the light of the moon that burst through the windows behind him enveloped the man in some sort of ethereal glow. She remembered a phrase from that one particular book of preaches her father read about one particular being so beautiful that he was cast from the skies. Or something along the lines. She hadn't been keen on reading that one honestly. But supposedly if this man was what she had read about in her father's book, why was he wearing such a grotesque thing over his face? Couldn't be. Her breath came out in a mild scoff as she took a step forward, shoulder brushing against Marley's who just cowered in fear in front of the man. Chailee's face was serene even if her eyes were hard, the tilt of her jaw defiant and stubborn. "Hello. My name is Chai," she spoke, tone loud and clear as she came to a stand at the foot of the stairs he stood on. Her tongue snuck out to swipe across her bottom tier, realising she was parched but went on whatsoever. "Would you mind if you took your mask off? I might as well see the face of the one who is going to eat me, right?"

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venitempus/vindvin ;

❝ And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.* it was once a castle filled with laughter, and bright light – the rooms would embraced splendour, they would bathe all eyes in crystals, and gold. and with every step, every spin, one could get drunk in its glory – people praised it for days to no end. it was once lively, it was once paradise. it still was incredibly charming --- within the massive walls of the gothic castle, there was beauty contained only but in its colour – richly decorated, a masterpiece for everyone who was lucky enough to see it. the interior was vast, and tall – it almost got lost in the moonlight, the eye could not grasp just how much it entailed. the drapes were scarlet, made of velvet – they did not cover the intriguing windows, lavishly ornamented with delicate orchids. the rose wood was a staple piece in the hallway – the stairs, the balustrade, the occasional wood figurines. the floor squeaked – it was old, history ate at it, the scent of old wood was wrapping the entire room. pillars carved with love, uniquely disproportioned – all gothic art found its beauty in inaccuracy, in immense and pompous decorations. there were renaissance-style paintings framed in gold hanging, of men and women who looked like they have been around for a while. the brush strokes mimicked those of masterful artists like michaelangelo. they were forced to stare at the doorway – and from the ceiling hung a marvellous golden chandelier. the consistent orchid-pattern held in the golden swirls, the light was dim and pleasant, enough to support the room’s glory. old books were arranged on small shelves – their spines colour-coded, fading from a pale red, to a deep red. ❝ But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch’s high estate; (Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow Shall dawn upon him, desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.* --- but death clung on its drapes, death crept in, death reached its claws, death was craved in its wood. they stopped coming – guests hated death’s breath. and the once glorious castle stood solitary on a hill, it told the story of the rise and fall, the tide of life – and its towers reached the sky, its inside was hollow. it collapse in its breath-taking excellence, embraced the shadows of evil, absorbed the blood, filled the void with nothingness. it was empty, and broken. just like his heart. ⚜⚜⚜ when he stepped down the stairs, he looked as though he was floating – so flawlessly did his steps embrace the crimson carpet, and the wooden floor. his hands were behind his back, the golden mask obscured his smirk – it was creepily staring at everything around. he was elegant – perhaps not the first thing one expects from a supposed ‘monster’. he looked more like a prince than an evil beast, his white shirt and dark pants made him stand out in the sea of burgundy. his clothes were perfectly fitted for him – no doubt a personal tailor fashioned them for him, and only for him. his servants bowed in obedience, they did not like to keep their heads up when he passed by – his musky scent made them painfully loyal, and terribly scared. there was something off about the way he moved his hands, his pale fingers extending to fold gracefully, falling on his chest as he bowed to welcome his guest. aloysius took his time observing the girl, he did not move from his spot – he was closer now, yet not close enough. there was distance between them, his cold eyes analysed every single muscle in her body. it was impossible for any detail to escape his keen eye – the way she clenched her hands, her neck, her attire, her young face, her neck. yes, she did have a pretty neck – young, firm, pale. he resisted his beastly thirst, and thankfully she could not see his fangs peeking through. other than that, she looked awfully normal, almost boringly so. aloysius struggled to keep his attention on her, she did not promise anything different – it took him a moment to spot the object peeking out of her bag. now, that was interesting. girls hated weapons – he knew that much, especially young ones like her. they adored the ornate dresses, the beautiful stockings their parents forced them to wear. but she had none of the astonishing decorations victorians praised themselves for – she almost looked like a man. he wanted to dissect her, dig deep into her mind and find out just why she choose to look like this on her funeral. it was bugging him, so much so that he decided he shall let her live for now. even if she was carrying a weapon. “sire, I’m sorry, w-we didn’t-“ a servant, who just noticed the weapon, stuttered and tried to approach aloysius. his master cut him off, raising a hand to stop him from walking. it was a sudden movement, and it made the servant step back, almost stumbling over his own feet. two female servants came to his aid. the movement behind did not bother aloysius, as if he could see everything despite not looking. “that would be enough,” he said, his voice pleasantly melodious. there was an undistinguishable accent coating every word, and it did made the servant gulp. aloysius did not tolerate mistakes, his generosity made marley look at the girl in a last dying hope. but he looked away quickly, not wanting to be discovered. aloysius stepped closer, allowing his presence to crash into her like a wave – he got close enough to be indecent. he looked at her for a while, before speaking. “I do not think chai wishes to be hostile,” his voice almost sounded commanding. he did not care for her wishes, it was his will she shall obey. he made it seem lighter by taking a step back, and by letting out a short chuckle. “silly of me, I should have known you are not an admirer of art,” he did not mean to sound superior – well, perhaps he did. his ego was as big as his --- personality. and he felt at an advantage as a species. he slowly removed the mask, revealing his handsome features. his face was immediately caressed by the soft light, and his lips curled into a sweet smile, almost too blissful and alluring. “I have no clue what stories you heard in the village, but I surely do not eat my guests. my name is aloysius, and whilst you are here, you may make yourself at home. of course, there will be rules. I am sure I can count on you to be as pleasant a guest as I will be a host,” and with that he stepped away, walking towards the living room. he uttered a last command before disappearing from view. “give her some decent clothes, will you?” it was a signal for his servants to approach the girl. an older lady bowed respectfully, and offered to carry her bag. marley seemed quite excited. “madame, I think our lord likes you. he is not usually like this,” he said hopefully, as if he was not quite sure about what he was saying. he knew aloysius’ hearing was sharper than any human’s, so he tried not to insult, or give away too much. the servants followed his steps, and marley made sure to stick as close as possible. they led her upstairs – supposedly her room was there. -- *notes // fragments from e. a. poe’s poem the haunted palace: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52370/the-haunted-palace mask inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/43/38/e7/4338e77728edfae8350869d39a8ab6c6.jpg aloysius’ outfit inspiration: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EWYRy1tU8AwjaRq?format=jpg&;name=large interior inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/9f/93/1b9f9355cdd17cacb85d0e1080663ed1.jpg

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

The castle was a morose place in it’s beauty- grim and underlying of darkness in the way the shadows seemed to be dancing in a whimsical rhythm in the moonlight and how every corner seemed to be hide beasts that willed their preys into their arms. Chai was quick to take everything in; how the servants easily fell to his will and command and how their eyes had a glazed look in them, unfocused yet still at their own will. It was fascinating but she was more intrigued by the man. He moved with stealthy grace. It looked like he was floating above the ground, his body barely contorting in the way a human would move as if a single motion would disrupt the perfection and elegance he carried himself with. She didn’t realize she’d kept a breathe pent in her throat until he spoke and she released it in a huff of warm air, gaze flitting to the servant who cowered in fear. It was funny how the mundane stumbled over his own feet, such a stark contrast to the man who stood atop the staircase. A chuckle slipped past Chai before she even realized it and she would have laughed at the sight had it not been for the mocking tone that resounded next. Thick eyebrows furrowed together trying to decipher whether the man was serious, the mocking tone that underlaid the otherwise generous words that spilled out of him taking her aback. He spoke with charm and grace but there was a hint of taunt in there, as if he was superior than the rest of them. Then again, he probably was, given how his monstrous beauty wasn't mundane in the least bit. She'd never taken commands well, even back in the village but realizing that a quip dripping with snark here and there wouldn't fair her well at all, she pressed her lips together, gaze falling to her dirty boots in an attempt to hold herself back but when another pair of shoes, one that seemed like a mirror with how polished it was stepped into her line of vision, her head lifted, raking the length of the man who stood in front of her with a condescending smile on what was rather a handsome face. Doe eyes that was as dark as pools of obsidian stared back at her, authority etched onto the proud nose and the high plains of his face even if his mouth curved into the sweetest of smiles ever, meant to disarm her. It was alluring and captivating, a haze of wonder and awe engulfing her entire being. How could a person be this beautiful? He couldn't be real, he was a monster. The haze was gone as soon as it came, her own stare sharp and focused despite the politeness she spoke with. Thank you, Mrs. Ruth for the little lady lessons. "Thank you for opening your home for me, Aloysius." Chai murmured, nodding once in a bow. She wanted to continue, prying further into the stories she'd heard out of sheer curiosity but he moved before she could carry on, the command he'd uttered the last of what she heard and saw of him before he disappeared into the shadows. The grip on her arms wrenched her out of her thoughts, the weight of her burlap sack taken off her shoulders and it's comfort was gone as was the man of the house. Casting a look of dismay towards the direction he'd taken off to, Chailee allowed the servants to lead her further into the castle, past dim hallways and corridors that were lit with oil lamps and onto a brighter lit extension of the castle after countless of twists and turns of paths. "M'lady, this is your suite. Master had it arranged to what a lady would like,"Marley spoke, pushing open a set of doors so she could walk in. "Should you require or like it to be changed, please let me know." Whatever he said did not register in her brain, the beauty of the room inside leaving her speechless. The first thing she noticed was that even in the moonlight that shone from the wide windows and the several candles someone had painstakingly lit to brighten the room, it was fit for a lady. Marley had been right in that sense but it was not gaudy, so unlike the frilly and girlish decor she knew girls her age were fond of. It was elegant and discreet enough for her to call it home for once. Her eyes trailed over the enormous room, from the carpeted floor to the massive bed that could probably fit her family of five comfortably and to the three women who stood in the middle of the room, their heads bowed as they approached. "These are your ladies in waiting, m'lady. Mariah, Jeannette and Agnes will always be by your side, should you need anything."Marley spoke again, his hand resting on his chest as he bowed again. The ladies followed suit, dipping their bodies close to the ground in a curtsy and Chailee only took a step back, unsure how to process the courtesy they treated her with. Such pleasantries were uncommon where she was from. Clearing her throat so she was loud enough, she carefully arranged her visage into a cordial beam. "Please, you can call me Chai. And I don't need anything, thank you very much. No bowing too please." The woman in the middle approached, her elderly face composed into one of utter obedience as she bowed again. Protests bubbled in the young girl's throat, close to spilling when the woman spoke. "My name is Mariah, miss. We are at your service, per the Master's orders. Now if you will, your bath awaits." It didn't go unnoticed that they refused to call her by her name and her request of no bowing met deaf ears; this needed to change. But she would leave it for now, making mental note of it being one of the issues she needed to take with Aloysius later. For now, a bath sounded and seemed like a very good idea. She smelled of dirt and other unpleasant odors and if she dared to sniff herself, the stench would cause her to faint. Nodding, she let Mariah lead her to the little door that opened to reveal a marble-carved bathroom, the tub that sat in the middle steaming with warm water and scented with something rather mouthwatering and reminiscent of lemon and flowers. Her jaw dropped at it all, unable to believe the rather generous and subdued fanfare they'd welcome her with; Aloysius didn't have the air to be kind or welcoming from what she had felt earlier, but surely he wasn't too bad. The bath did her immense good, the tight muscles that formed everywhere on her body loosening under the heat of the water and steam. She was prodded, scrubbed, brushed and washed, her handmaidens refusing to let her to anything by herself, even when she was getting dressed. Chai had started making a point to fend them off anyhow she could but to no avail, their hands and fingers were always on her, preparing her for what Mariah had said dinner. The thought of food caused a rumble of hunger to erupt from her belly and she thanked Heavens that no one was around to hear such embarrassing sound. The women in waiting had left to clean the bathroom, leaving Chai alone in front of her vanity desk to scrutinize what was there. She was decent-looking now that she was clean and rid of dirt, clad in a proper outfit for a young girl instead of her brother's and father's old clothes. It was a suffocating dress, the corset tight around her torso and she wiggled, trying to loosen it a tad until she was satisfied. Exhaling, she then reached to her hair which they'd tied into a neat updo of braids and fiddled around, pulling out the pins her locks were held with, dark waves tumbling free over her shoulder and down her back. There, much better. She grinned a self-satisfied smirk at her reflection, the image of the village girl back only for it to fade when Marley walked back in. "If it pleases you, my lady, the Master awaits you in the dining area." Chailee nodded, lifting herself from the little cushioned chaise and sauntered to Marley, fingers bunched in her skirt to keep her from falling. She was led the way she had come, the way already ingrained in her brain for future use. The dining area was another grandiose part of the castle, as morose and grim as the hall she'd first met him in. Yet unlike then, there was no man in sight nor any sign of another being, whether it be a monster or human. Marley was long gone, leaving her alone in the midst of the room. "Aloysius?"she called out, taking a few steps further into the room so she could stand in the middle of it, head turning left and right in search for him. ----- her bedroom: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/6d/e7/e46de721864fdbf9705dcecddce3b903.jpg the bathroom/hammam: https://pin.it/1yENyPG chai's outfit inspiration: https://pin.it/7l2unhV

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venitempus/vindvin ; 

the beauty of the castle was transported in the dining area, the large room was richly decorated, but hollow – his steps were loud, and the floor squeaked occasionally. he paced in an unusual manner, other servants were waiting for his orders, looking quite terrified at their master’s change of temperament. they did not know if they should expect a feast or a bloodbath, it was never certain with aloysius. he finally sat down, two of the women approached and bowed down respectfully, waiting for their orders. aloysius ignored them, he was lost in thought. “what makes you so morose, sire?” a soft voice spoke from one of the portraits hanging on the wall. it was the image of a beautiful boy immortalised to look young forever – a dorian gray, if you will. aloysius eyes fell on the image unimpressed, two of his servants stepped back shocked by the painting’s ability to speak. but they have learnt nothing in the castle was normal, and aloysius’ magic was certainly not only contained in his sharp fangs, and unusual taste for blood. “mind your own business, will you?” aloysius dismissed the portrait and got up, making his servants get up as well. he finally noticed the synchronised movements, and the doe eyes – he gave them a glare. “you too, partir,” the way he moved told them enough, they left as quickly as they could. aloysius approached the portrait, who looked down at him with a satisfied grin. “any reason you choose to torment me today, roderick?” he locked eyes with the painted ones – and he could tell pink paint bloomed on the boy’s cheeks. “uhm, well – I thought she reminded you of someone,” the portrait said boldly, and aloysius’ eyes darkened, they were dangerous. if he could slash the canvas open – he would. if he could drain the portrait of blood – he would. the words affected him – and he knew exactly why. he will not be able to kill this one, and it was not because her brave nature amused him, no. it was because she looked like her – the witch who cursed him, who made him live forever, miserable and thirsty. part of him would have killed her on the spot – but that face still held power over him. it could be that the girl was her descendant, it would not be unheard of. if there was even the slightest chance they were related, killing her would only make his fate worse – the witch will certainly not like having her daughter, or whatever she was, killed. he did not know how the portrait knew of his thoughts, it seemed to know a lot – and he had no doubt his ‘knowledge’ was a gift from his old enemy. “what do you know, roderick? you are just an old, painted buffoon,” aloysius turned away, and just as he did, he heard a sharp laughter, and a screech that almost made him go deaf. his heightened senses were a curse – especially when a mental portrait starts screaming for no reason. he turned around and saw the image melting – aloysius’ face was impossible to be read. his feelings were also difficult to decipher – he thought he has been poisoned for a moment, the sudden reaction took him slightly off guard, for about a second. roderick’s skin melted off, revealing his skeleton, jaw clattering in a continuous laughter. aloysius rolled his eyes, and sighed. “boring. now stop the theatrics, we have guests,” roderick almost pouted at him – yes, with skeleton face and all. aloysius watched the paint get absorbed back in the painting, roderick’s face appearing again. “do that again, and I will sell you at an auction,” aloyisus said as serious as ever – he was not amused by the portrait’s intrusion and game. “listen, listen, listen, sire,” he started calling when he saw aloysius walk away again. “what I meant is that she looks like a man,” he continued, more desperate now, trying to get aloysius’ attention. “you have fun with men, right?” but aloysius was already gone. “insolent fool,” a portrait of a woman whispered, rolling her eyes, before scoffing. roderick pouted again, then stopped moving. aloysius felt the need to get away from people – from servants and annoying portraits. the living room at the end of the hall was empty now, and the portraits there never bothered him. there was a big piano in the room, and if aloysius ever looked peaceful it was when he was playing it. the portraits there loved his presence – especially if he played something for them. the moonlight was shining on the keys, and aloysius was compelled to approach. he touched the delicate surface, and sat down. he did not need any music sheet – he knew the notes by heart, he has played this composition many times. and light as a feather were his fingers on the keys, they spun and twirled and created the sweet sound of beethoven’s moonlight sonata. and the portraits closed their eyes, and listened mesmerised, the sound was loud in the sullen castle – adagio sostenuto. it almost sounded like hope, like an entrance to heaven – and aloysius looked so peaceful and beautiful. such man could not be a blood-thirsty killer, could he? – the girls who watched him play always asked that, until he managed to prove them wrong. the notes start to weigh on him, lower, and lower. the entire room vibrated with his music, and the moon was splendid – his body swayed slightly as his fingers skilfully embraced the light notes, almost dancing on the keys – allegretto. the lights were switched on, and the entire atmosphere was jolly, matching the sudden turn in his concert. some maids caught themselves dancing around, swirling to the music – and some servants joined them. it was as if the entire castle transformed into a ball, and everyone was happy. the speedy notes made them all spin around, aloysius’ fingers moving faster, his face in a serene concentration – presto agitato. the small crowd started to cheer in their dance, and even the portraits joined in – one of them mimicking a conductor. meanwhile, the music reached the dining area and roderick smirked. “you should join, missy,” roderick spoke to chai out of a sudden, looking at her with his painted eyes – his youthful, yet malicious face, he would have told her more, but he thought convincing her to go away for now would benefit him somehow. “you certainly do not want to miss such a spectacle.” the party only got louder, and more enjoyable with every new section, it even felt as though the entire castle was moving along to the music – the curtains dropping, unfolding and folding. some feathers floating, writing words in the air – and the fireplace was roaring furiously, flames moving to the beat. marley was the only one who looked distressed, he did not like how everyone chimed in – if their master sees them like that, it will not be good. he tried to stop them – but even he was captured by the music. it was as if the piano was enchanted – and perhaps it was. their hearts almost burst with every note, fascinated, excited, and absolutely in love with their little show. they did not stop dancing until the last notes hit the piano, in a graceful ending. aloysius stood up, and they all cheered so loudly the entire town might have heard them. to marley’s surprise, aloysius’ good mood was still present, so he bowed to accept the cheers with the grace of a prince. “marvellous” “breath-taking” “it was beautiful, sire” – the praise never ended. and aloysius stepped in the middle of the room, and the entire castle was once again silent. -- living room inspiration: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/76/1a/8c/761a8c08193f27732185766dc52bddef--piano-living-rooms-piano-room.jpg the song (it has the sections in the description, that should help along!): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

No matter how hard she looked, he was no where to be found. Chai stood in the middle of the dining room long enough for her eyes to get adjusted to the darkness, somewhat finding it welcoming in it's eeriness and gloom. The palace and the glory of the hall she'd met Aloysius in was the exact opposite of the colorful town she hailed from and she found it a breath of fresh air, even through the earthy stench of the palace. She sucked in a breath, gnawing on the inner flesh of her cheek as her fingers wrung each other in nervousness. Was this the moment she would die at his hands? Her heart skipped a beat before picking up in her chest, deafening in the middle of the room. Maybe he was just late, the little mousy voice tried speaking bravely but to no avail, the million and one thoughts all had bloody and gory endings. "Stop stressing that pretty head of yours, will you?"a voice spoke, wrenching Chai out of her miserable reverie. Her head whipped around to find the voice who spoke yet stared at the empty room once again. Had she imagined the voice? "Non, non! You are not imagining things, I assure you! Here! On your right! Psst, look here!" With baited breath, she slowly turned the direction of the voice, gaze widening in surprise (maybe fear?) and hands flying to her mouth to hold back the little shriek that threatened to bubble out of her throat. A boy, surely no older than her, stared back at her with a grin so toothy, she could see the mischief on his visage. He wore his hair in an unruly fashion, the mop of ginger locks a stark contrast against the dark background he stood against. He looked like one of the boys who would be caught stealing cookies from the patisserie back in the village, deserving a smack on the bum from Mr. Grosventre. But despite his face, his clothes told another story, in the way the fine fabric of his shirt even shone from the painting- wait, what? Painting? Her steps were cautious but the glint in her eyes were curious as she approached the portrait on the wall, unable to hold her hand back from reaching out in the want to touch the canvas. "Tch, do not touch me, young miss! Should you want to come in too." The boy cackled as he watched her hand drop back to her side as fast as it had reached up. "Y-you speak,"she murmured, breath coming out in a shaky huff. It wasn't a question nor was it a statement; she just needed to wrap her head around this fascinating magic. The boy in the portrait watched her with impatience, mouth down-turned in pout of distaste. "You know, I did want you to be different from the other ladies who'd walked in before you. Alas, you seem to be as a floundering goat as all of them!" He exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he rolled his eyes before feigning a bore glance as he inspected his fingernails. Chai's eyes narrowed just a fraction, grin as toothy as his initially was, blinking once in innocence. It was a look that had come in handy often back home to get herself out of trouble and there was no doubt she would use it around here to get her way. "Do you often speak to your guests like this? Well, I would be an old grumpy cat too if I were stuck in a portrait. Pray tell, what happens when the canvas is torn or ripped? I remember seeing a knife somewhere around here..." She trailed off as if deep in thought, making sure he caught the way her eyes roamed the little space from her left to right in search of said knife. She wouldn't hurt him, not at all. But she would find entertainment in bothering him all the time. "Gah! Such a brat! You remind me awfully of someone!"he scoffed at her, in turn only him just a coquettish shrug and a bat of her eyelashes. "But you're funny. You may call me Roderick and I hope you stick around here for long, Miss Brat. It's been a long time since we've had entertainment in this ramshackle of a decaying pla-" His words were cut short by the melodious note of a piano ringing from somewhere, Chai's head turning to the side to find the source of the noise. It was euphony, the gracious and elegant kind that began sad but quickly morphed into a joyous one. Roderick and her stood in silence, appreciating the piece of music that played, transcending the space of the castle and engulfing the two in what was jolly ecstasy. Her lips curved slightly at the corners at the way the notes picked up, the sounds of cheerful laughter and shouts adding to the solo orchestra. Roderick took one glance at her face and snickered at the way her eyes had glazed over with awe, expression one of pure intrigue. “You should join, missy. You certainly do not want to miss such a spectacle." His tone and words were tempting, her feet moving on their own accord as she trudged the way the voices and music came from. There had been a little corridor right beside the grande hall that she had missed earlier on her inspection, the path lit with little oil lamps. For once, even the shadows seemed like they were cheery instead of their grim selves. Perhaps they were truly enjoying themselves, who knew? Chai stood by the door, hand resting on the wooden panel to push it wide enough so she could peek in. And the sight inside was enough to have her breath hitch in her throat. It was a ruckus but she felt the happiness that the room burst with, enticing the small frame of the girl who peeped in. Everything moved, from the tapestries and the curtains to the candle holders and feather dusters; they were all fluid in their dance, gone into the euphoria of such a masterpiece. But her gaze flitted to the man who had started such fete. Aloysius sat in the middle of the room, on the bench in front of the grande piano and had lost himself into the music, oblivious to the celebration around him until the very last notes. His fingers were lithe and expert as they came to a dwindling stop from the furious tapping on top of the ivory keys and Chai did not miss the satisfied smile he smiled as he lifted himself from the cushioned bench, graceful and royal as ever as he bowed. At that moment, she thought of it impossible that he was such a monster, especially when all of his servants and friends(?) cheered on him so loudly for. She envied him -them- for it; she'd never had a chance at experiencing such joy back in her village. Once the applause died down, she pushed the door open and walked in, hands placed politely in front of her as she cleared her throat, trying to get his attention. It was not only his that she got, but the whole palace's. It was dead again, every single sight of life gone and it broke her heart to see it. The once warm atmosphere was cold once again despite the fire that burned brighter than ever in the fireplace. But she knew she couldn't take it too heart- she was not mistress of the house after all for them to welcome her with such fuss. "You play wonderfully,"she began, voice coming out timid which was so unlike her. Chai cleared her throat again, taking a few steps closer so she stood in front of him. Her foot were awfully loud even if muffled by the carpet and she held herself from grimacing. "As if for your own celebration. Why didn't you join them in dancing? Do you dance? Would you like to?" The questions erupted past her mouth before she even knew it, her hand held out in an invite. It sure was a feeble attempt at decent cordiality and even friendship; he said he wouldn't eat her if she misbehaved after all. A if on cue, a note from the piano resonated against the castle walls, once again bringing life to the place. Her head tilted slightly so she could look over his shoulder to the massive instrument that stood majestically behind him and grinned, noticing how the keys moving on their own. Of course, it was enchanted too. With her grin still in place, she beamed up at Aloysius, barely a foot away from where he stood towering over her. "I think even it wants you to dance." She chuckled, nodding towards the direction of the piano. [ living room inspiration (as I had it in my head): https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/0c/df/cd0cdf34c8d3731c54260b9fd0f2948a.jpg roderick: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e5/61/c4/e561c419b7e7cfa2db3c4d71d00a602c.jpg piano piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdduPpnqre4 ]

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venitempus/vindvin ;

in the fit of laughter and joy, aloysius has forgotten about his guest – kind of. he did not show any surprise to see her walking inside the beautifully decorated room, and the room’s noise died with her arrival. he regarded her – she looked more presentable. he could get used to the emerald flow she was wearing, it suited her. however, it looked old-fashioned. perhaps it was a practical joke at his expense, something along the lines of ‘aha, you are old, so let us entice you with something close to home’. surely, it was not her fault. and he wanted to glance at the maidens who were already giggling behind their palms. such childish behaviour should be punished, he would have punished it. but his mind was at peace, he was satisfied with the theatrics – he did not want to lose his peace. it will not last long anyways – and the hunger, the thirst, the murderous fever will return, and capture his entire being. it was his curse, and he accepted it. her praised made him smirk, he enjoyed hearing about himself – his arrogance trapped him in this convoluted story to begin with. her bluntness did not seem to move him, but he was impressed. she was truly different – which girl would invite a grown man to dance? it was not a custom, of course, he did not mind tradition much. it was most unlikely, and peculiar. he knew victorian girls were straightforward when showing their undergarments, but none would have dared to step forward and ask for something as innocent as a dance. they lived in a fairy tale with a prince they expected to do everything for them – lay with them, invite them to a dance, shower them with riches. and they liked it – the entire scenario has gotten too predictable for someone like him. for centuries he has met the same shy girls with a different accent, a different colour, a different smile. suddenly, the pages were blank. and chai was writing her own story – with him, without him. the piano married his heart – he gave it away. and so it tuned whatever fitted, old and new. it was a piece aloysius was only partly familiar with, it still did not make its way to england, not yet. but it was exceptional, he had a lot of praise for the russian composer. it was not the first thought in mind when selecting a tune for a traditional dance – the piano read her as accurately as it read him. the servants were holding their breaths, and for fair reason. for a brief moment he looked like a predator – his expression hardened, and his off-putting darkness was surrounding him with every movement. two girls covered their eyes – they were sure chai’s life was about to come to an end. nobody defeated him, spoke to him like that, not without consequences. she approached him in spite of it – her bravery knew no limits. it would be easy to rip her apart, to drain her pretty neck, to do anything to keep her away. he did not do any of it, he let her come close. he allowed her to disturb his personal space, to be at arm’s length. when he reached his hand out, a servant squeaked – imaging how easily aloysius could strangle her. he grabbed her hand instead, his lips curling in a dangerously charming smile – or was it charmingly dangerous? the piano taunted. aloysius pulled her closer – the song was not made for a duet, but he had to make it work. he started with steps that mimicked the pace of the piece, his arm around her waist, his hand holding hers in a waltz-like pose. but it was a quick waltz, one that made them pace all over the room frantically – the fire flickered, the servants watched bewildered. the entire piece was like a chase, it made the furniture quiver. the piano mocked them – aloysius knew. he looked at it with a smirk, it was almost as if he was scolding an old friend. when the last notes flew like a river he spun her, once, twice, and let her be taken by the rhythm. their bodies were far away, he spun her again and left her under the chandelier’s light as the last note hit. the servants were not sure if they should clap or not, so they stood in silence. “very well, friend. now if you have finished your taunt, why do you not simply play something that would allow a proper dance?” he looked at the piano, it played some notes in contemplation. “chopin should do,” aloysius helped, and the entire room changed. it was not only the light that dimmed, or the flame that flickered slower – but the curtains darkened, there was rain pouring over the windows. and white petals started to fall seemingly out of nowhere, filling the entire room with the scent of spring. aloysius approached her again, this time in a proper waltz – pulling her closer at his chest. his body was cold, and his heart was barely beating – he moved so gently, so lost. they covered the entire room – the atmosphere was enchanting. the servants watched in awe, the portraits closed their eyes in contemplation. aloysius closed his eyes too, he felt the music under his feet – he was fluid, and he pulled her along, like a gentle breeze. the petals turned burgundy as the music reached its darker notes, and the shower of little flowers covered them like the rain did the windows. he spun her, and let her go. all lights were on her, all the flowers surrounded her, moved with her, spun with her – she looked like a gracious swan on a lake of waterlilies. aloysius was at the bottom of the lake, his face was covered by the depth’s darkness, and the reflection of the rain, the moon was only gently brushing his lips. the piece ended, and the room brightened again. the cold blue lights faded to yellow, the room felt warmer. servants clapped, and filled it again with joy. aloysius walked towards the door in their applause. “dinner shall be served shortly,” he announced, and left peacefully. he did not wait for chai, he gave her the chance to refuse to follow – he thought choice suited her best. “sire,” a servant ran towards him, soaking wet. he just entered the castle, and he was panting like a wild dog. aloysius gave him a displeased look, and he fell at his feet. “I tried sire, I did. but they didn’t want to listen,” he heaved. aloysius frowned, and gestured him to get up. “that is quite alright, francis,” he said kindly? it was rather hard to tell where his tone was at right now. “they will not dare disturb me. now if you will, I should have my dinner,” and he walked away. francis was confused, and he got up, running to one of the maids to ask what happened. “she happened, dearie,” the maid said with a chuckle, pointing at chai subtly. “I haven’t seen our lord dance in a long time.” aloysius was in the dining room, roderick gave him a weird look. he choose to ignore the portrait, and it knew better than to disturb the feast. the long table was filled with all kind of food, it looked delightful. aloysius took a seat at the end of it, taking all of it in. he was in contemplation – the servants were already in the room. they usually stuck around during meals, just to make sure aloysius does not suddenly change the menu. he had a beautiful crystal glass in front of him – it was filled with dark red liquid. it could have passed as wine, but nearly everyone knew that it was not alcohol. no matter how drunk aloysius got on it. -- piano piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6b3swbnWg

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pxssionfruit/thegildedone ;

She waited with baited breath at his reaction; somehow she was prepared for the rejection that would come. In his eyes, she was probably just a silly little girl who attempted to befriend a monster. Surely, he wouldn't- surprise rushed through her body, eyes wide when her hand was taken. Chai felt small in his hold, her hand fragile into his strong one. Was he really willing to dance with her? Wasn't she meant to be discarded and treated as if her little wishes and desires were meaningless? Wasn't she just the lamb that had would be soon roasted in the pit for the wolf's dinner? It was clear that she hadn't expected it in the way she gawked, eyes widening enough so the light caught her irises, a flash of gold and green sparkling in otherwise dark orbs. her body stiffened for a moment before it relaxed, the music somehow soothing, crashing against his body. from this close, she could finally take a good look at the man. from the minutest imperfections that were almost invisible to the harsh lines and shadows in his face that seemed as if he had a permanent scowl, he exuded grace and regality. chai didn't understand how someone could be so beautiful could exist, but here he was; cold yet warm in her hold as they moved about the grandiose room in effortless steps, surprisingly able to match his waltz despite how her full skirt billowed at their feet. she had never had the chance to dance such back in the village; her family's finances were such that minor luxuries and hobbies were considered a waste. and right now that she was indulging in it, the worry she had back then seemed so far away. her thoughts were still running rampant in her head, her steps matching his rhythm accompanied by the sway of her body to the music so much that she hadn't noticed she was left alone under the chandelier until she sensed his warmth leaving her side. her face was inquisitive, intrigued by what was to come next when he spoke, his command oozing confidence and majesty. then the world changed, her breath taken by what transpired next. everything was in motion, the room itself coming to life as the music changed. the world darkened significantly outside, the pellets of rain hitting the windows harshly. yet somehow, it was spring's comfort and warmth that began seeping through. the chandelier twinkled in the moonlight and what was remaining of the candlelights as they dimmed, engulfing the room into a whimsical glow. something grazed her cheek with the weight of a feather, falling into her open palm and when she looked at it, in her hand laid a white petal, as soft as a baby's bum or the first of snowflakes she'd caught as a child. it was gone soon, joining the rest of its friends onto the carpeted floor when aloysius took her hand, leading her into a dreamy waltz. how their steps matched was a wondrous feat in itself, chai as fluid as he was when he moved her about the room. it was a beautiful rhythm, one that made her lose awareness of her surroundings, completely throwing herself into the music and the touch that tethered her to the ground. his hand left hers with a force that left her spinning into the middle of the room, her full skirts swarming elegantly at her feet. her eyes had closed, cheeks flushed out of both shyness and joy, her lips curved into the most timid grin she'd ever muster in her sixteen years of life and her hair was a fluid cascade of dark locks that caught the petals. the music dwindled down, the applause that overtook the room a roar that would shame the thunder and lightning that had started picking up outside. slowly, chai's eyes opened, cheeks flushing the same color of the petals that were at her feet and in her hair, searching for the man. aloysius had left her there, in the middle of the room with a crowd of onlookers. her face contorted into one of disbelief as she picked up her skirts and rushed back out the same way she came in after the man. she was too slow- hey, he was just too agile!, she thought to herself as she barged into the dining room, unconsciously leaving a trail of little flowers onto the floor. she glanced at the drenched man who had begun disappearing off somewhere, but her attention was caught once again by the man she had just danced with- she refused to admit that it was a sweet moment. "I'd have thought you were a gentleman!"she exclaimed, tone a bit too loud. she noticed roderick grimacing from his spot on the wall out of her peripheral vision but that did not stop the myriad of words that came out of her mouth as she stepped closer to aloysius, coming to a stand to where he was. "The least you can do is wait for me! My legs are not as long as yours! And you don't have to wear a skirt either and- oh!" the rant stopped as fast as it came, her gaze falling onto the feast-ladden table that sat in the middle of the room. it was filled with everything she could imagine, from a roasted suckling pig to an assortment of quince and cheese, fruit platters to a variety of desserts. she'd never seen so much food in her life; it was enough to feed the whole village back home! she spotted a seat that was readied for her at the other end of the long table- it was too distant, too aloof... just like the man who sat at the head of the table. swallowing thickly, she moved the chair that she was standing by which happened to be on his right and sat down, able to pick up the sounds of the servants running around to fix her new seat for her. "Thank you," she murmured kindly to one of the servants who placed a pristine plate and utensils in front of her. chai's hand hesitantly reached for her fork, the cold metal foreign in her hands. she was hungry and the whole castle was made aware of it when her stomach rumbled, rivaling that of the thunder outside. roderick snickered from his place on the wall in front of her and she was quick to raise her fist that was still gripping the fork, shaking it in warning at the boy in the painting. "Shut up, you wretched fopdoodle!" she glared at him but the boy only snickered harder, his face contorting into a grimace that was sure meant to poke fun at the girl who only stuck her tongue out at him, fist dropping down so she could stab a grape. she was far too hungry to shoot a clever quip so deciding she would deal with roderick later, she started to eat, the grape-tipped fork freezing about halfway to her mouth. she took a glance at the man beside her and hesitantly held the fruit to him in an attempt at being friendly. they did just dance, so maybe he wouldn't be too closed now, right? "Would you like one? I'm sure they are delicious,"she began, mouth upturning into what she hoped was a toothy grin but really was an awkward one. Roderick yodeled a bout of robust and obnoxious laughter, his exclamation causing her eyebrows to thread together into a scowl. "Oh, naive little girl! She wants to give our lord a grape! A grape! Haha!"

TO BE CONTINUED.

( @thegildedone​ )

[inquisition-dragonborn]

OC Aesthetics Meme

Eluned Treherne

BODY

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Toned thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Toned arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Curvy frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Small waist. Average waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Narrow shoulders. Broad shoulders. Average shoulders. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

HEIGHT

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180 cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Moles. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scars (saarebas). Birthmarks.

EYES

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Violet. Pink. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Deep-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Down-turned.

HAIR

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Afro. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Past hip-length. Buzzcut. Bald. Weave. Hair extensions. Jaw length. Mohawk. Dreadlocks. Box braids. Faux locks. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ash Blonde. Blonde. Ombre.  Light brown. Mousy brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Coffee brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Raven black. Ginger. Red. Auburn. Dyed. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows. Plucked eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. Back tattoo (coloured whip scars). Shoulder blade tattoo. One tattoo. Face tattoo. Hand tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings.  Earlobe piercings. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing (s). Lip piercing(s). Top of the ear. Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretched out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

COSMETICS

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat’s eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Nude lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears war paint from time to time. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Rarely wears make-up.

SCENT

Floral. Herbal. Earthy. Fruity (citrus). Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturiser. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Fur. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana (elfroot). Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain.

CLOTHES

Jeans. Tight pants. Over-knee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/Form-fitting dress. Cardigans. Tunic. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-shirt. Sports-shirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop.  Cut off shirt. Designer. High street. Leather jacket. Thrift.  Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxi-dress. Sundress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. High-slit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Waistcoat. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers/Boxer-Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt.  Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Cotton. Linen. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Light colors. White. Black. Dark colours. Fur/Fauxfur. Revealing clothing. Heavy armor. Medium armor. Light Armor.

SHOES

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes.

[samevvns]

body / appearance tag.

TAGGED  BY  :  @sytheheart​ TAGGING  :  @endingchanged​ @ineveryvein​

BODY.          short  legs.  average  legs.  long  legs.  slender  thighs.  muscular  thighs. thick  thighs.  skinny  arms.  muscular  arms.  soft  arms.  beer  belly.  flabby  stomach.  soft  stomach.  flat  stomach.  toned  stomach.  six - pack.  petite  frame  (  5  ft  4  or  shorter  ).  lanky  frame.  lean  frame.  slender  frame.  muscular  frame.  voluptuous  frame. short  nails.  long  nails.  manicured  nails.  dirty  nails.  flat  ass.  toned  ass.  thick  ass.  bubble  butt.  small  waist.  average  waist.  thick  waist.  narrow  hips.  average  hips.  wide  hips.  small  feet.  average  feet.  big  feet.  slender  feet.  wide  feet.  calloused  feet.  calloused  hands.  soft  hands.  small  hands.  average  hands.  big  hands.  short  fingers. average  fingers.  long  fingers.  broad  shoulders.  underweight.  average  weight.  overweight.

HEIGHT.          shorter  than  140  cm.  141  cm  to  150  cm.  151  cm  to  160  cm.  161  cm  to  170  cm.  171  cm  to  180  cm.  181  cm  to  190  cm.  191  cm  to  2  m.  taller  than  2  m.

SKIN.          pale.  fair.  rosy.  olive.  tanned.  dark.  freckled.  smooth.  blotchy.  acne.  scarred.  dry.  greasy.

EYES.          small.  average.  large.  blue.  green.  grey.  black.  brown.  hazel.  gold.  almond - shaped.  doe - eyed.  close - set.  wide - set.  squinty.  mono - lidded.  heavy - set  eyelids.  upturned.  down - turned.

HAIR.          thin.  fine.  thick.  normal.  greasy.  dry.  soft.  shiny.  smooth.  straight. wavy.  frizzy.  curly.  wild.  unruly.  floppy.  bald.  buzz  cut.  mohawk.  pixie - cut.  cropped.  jaw  length.  short.  shoulder  length.  back  length.  waist  length.  floor  length.  white.  platinum  blonde.  light  blonde.  golden  blonde.  dirty  blonde.  ginger.  auburn.  light  brown.  golden  brown.  chestnut  brown.  mousy  brown.  chocolate  brown.  dark  brown.  jet  black.  grey(ing).  natural.  dyed.  dyed  any  ‘unnatural  colour’.  streaked.  thin  eyebrows. average  eyebrows.  thick  eyebrows.

TATTOOS  /  PIERCINGS.          face  tattoo.  neck  tattoo.  shoulder  tattoo.  back  tattoo.  chest  tattoo.  arm  tattoo.  full  sleeve.  wrist  tattoo.  hand  /  finger  tattoo.  hip  tattoo.  thigh  tattoo.  ankle  tattoo.  foot  tattoo.  no  tattoos.  a  few  here  and  there. multiple.  eyebrow  piercing(s).  industrial  piercings.  tragus  piercing.  earlobe  piercing.  gauge(s)  (  stretches  out  ears  ).  cheek  piercing.  nose  piercing.  septum  piercing.  monroe  piercing.  angel  bites.  smiley.  tongue  piercing(s).  snake   bites.  nape  piercing(s).  nipple  piercing(s).  navel  piercing.  inverse  navel  piercing.  genital  piercing(s).  no  piercings.

COSMETICS.          eye  shadow.  neutral  eye  shadow.  smokey  eyes.  colourful  eye  shadow.  dark  eye  shadow.  light  eyeliner.  cat  eyes.  heavy  eyeliner.  mascara.  fake  eyelashes.  matte  lipstick.  regular  lipstick.  lip  gloss.  pink  lips.  red  lips.  dark  lips.  lip  liner.  bronzer.  highlighter.  blush.  light  contouring.  heavy  contouring.  concealer. matt  foundation.  shiny  foundation.  powder.  wears  make - up  regularly.  wears  it  from  time  to  time.  never  wears  make - up.

SCENT.          perfumes.  aftershave.  cologne.  creams.  moisturiser.  natural  soap. shampoo.  floral.  fruity.  lemon.  rose.  lavender.  trees.  oak.  autumn  leaves.  musk.  fire.  campfire.  smoke.  incense.  cigarettes.  marijuana.  whiskey.  wine.  food.  fried  food.  baked  bread.  freshly  baked  cookies.  gingerbread.  peppermint.  mint.  vanilla.  honey. coffee.  raw  hyde.  leather.  ink.  blood.  sweat.  ocean.  rain.  fire.  metal.

CLOTHES.          blouse.  button - up  shirt.  crop  top.  band  t - shirt.  sports  t - shirt.  tank  top.  leotard.  cut  off  shirt.  basketball  shorts.  hot  pants.  denim  shorts.  jeans.  tight  pants.  yoga  pants.  leggings.  khaki  pants.  harem  pants.  loose  skirt.  ballerina  skirt.  pencil  skirt.  tight  skirt.  mini  skirt.  long  skirt.  high - slit  skirt  /  dress.  maxi - dress.  sun  dress.  tight  /  form - fitting  dress.  cardigan.  sweater.  sweater  vest.  tie.  bowtie.  suit.  tuxedo.  loose  clothing.  tight  clothing.  ankle  socks.  lace  trim  socks.  sports  socks.  over - the - knee  socks.  stockings.  tights.  fishnets.  lingerie.  chemise.  bra.  sports  bra.  corset.  briefs.  boxers. boxer-briefs.  thong.  hipster  panties.  stripes.  polka  dot.  silk.  lace.  glitter. denim.  leather.  velvet.  plaid.  patterned.  plain.  florals.  pastel.  neon  colours.  neutral  colours.  dark  colours.  black.  fur.  faux  fur.  vintage.  grunge.  goth.  emo.  hipster.  preppy.  sporty.  trendy.  runway.

SHOES.          flats.  slip - ons.  sandals.  sneakers.  kitten  heels.  high  heels.  wedge  heels.  platforms.  stripper  heels.  ankle  boots.  boots.  combat  boots.  cowboy  boots.  knee - high  boots.  dress  shoes.  loafers.  bare  feet.

[g-w-3-d-damn]

A Rage That None Could Carry

Fan Sequel to All That He Wants. Prequel to All That He Has. )(6L1T) The hill witch meets Avenger Loki in the 6L1T universe and makes him unpack his emotional baggage. Words: 5,000. Rated: ?. Post-Infinity War AU,  breeding kink, intersex Loki(s), a harem of childbearing Lokis, female body functions, reproductive issues, angst, Mpreg(Does intersex count as M?), angst, Loki harem, intersex Lokis, whump, fertility struggles, mention of: slight gore, bigotry, Thanos, torture, unethical/sexual medical experiments, monsters, idiot-Thor. Read the warnings for the other stories before diving in.  I didn’t mean to get this dark but it ends on a hopeful note.  Also there’s no sex unless I write a bit after this.

Munin cawed at the five left in the seraglio. Royal Loki looked to Munin in alarm as the corvid brought them news that their barren fellow Loki had taken the bifrost to visit the witches of the hills. The harem gathered around this messenger, asked questions.

According to the raven, there is a witch in the forest which is part of no coven; childless, a keeper of secret women's magic. Her evil magic could rot the land, or sterilize those that even fertility gods had blessed. Her magic could also stop the body from changing through pregnancy, leaving a mother to look young forever. She can make pregnancy painless, make pregnancy happen even against the other gods' curses. All the Lokis know her name, as it is prophesied that she would raise the most monstrous of Loki's offspring. Her titles preceded her; the plague of the deep woods, the barren mother of monsters, the witch of the hills, the hag: Angerboda.

“To that old hillbilly?” Ragnarok Loki scoffed, “She's truly not worth all the trouble, he'll be back all too soon.”

“I suspect you wrong,” Dark Loki said, “Remember the last words he said before he left our chamber?”

“Thor's child, how can it be anything but worth it?” Munin mimicked.

The harem looked at itself critically.

“What do each of you think is best?” Royal Loki asked.

“We should tell Thor,” Young Loki said.

“No,” Infinity Loki said, “No that's the last thing we should do. It's not Thor's decision.”

“Then we wait for him to return,” Dark Loki said.

Ragnarok Loki took a seat with his resting bitch face and thought you simply can't let me have my moment, can you, you just have to ruin it, don't you, you little pest? I swear if you come back here and announce that you are pregnant, I will announce my engagement at your wedding and die at your funeral, just try me.

Royal Loki smirked and patted Ragnarok Loki on the shoulder.

“To be fair, deep down if we didn't like to be choked we wouldn't all be the insufferable little shits we are,” Royal Loki knowingly joked.

-------

Avenger Loki crept over the fallen leaves to the front door of the witch's hillbilly hovel with trepidation.

“Get out'n come in!” the hag hollered from within.

Loki paused.

“Which do you-”

“Come on in,” she said.

The fat witch dressed in plain midgardian clothes. A baggy t-shirt half-covered the blue jean shorts that cut into her fat thighs. Her disheveled mousy hair dragged the ground where she sat. White streaks ran from root to frayed tip. She looked up at Loki with mismatched pupils, one eye more green and one eye more blue.

“If you're a witch, then I suppose you know why I'm here,” Loki asked.

“And if you ain't as dumb as ya look, then you'd a' known that I'm the witch,” she said.

Hugin, at the window of the hovel, spoke to mimic Loki.

“I want to feel his baby inside me, to be full and heavy, to feel it growing in me. I want you to be excited for me, Thor. Proud of me. As you are of them. I want this so badly.”

“Traitor,” Loki muttered at Hunin.

-------

    “Now it's a fact that there ain't no way in hell that you can conceive right now,” Angerboda drawled.

“Well, unless you can fix that so that I may conceive in the future, then I've no need of you,” Loki said.

“Relax, you'll be able to conceive when you're ready. But right now, there's a complicated reason and a simple reason why you can't conceive.”

“Then make it uncomplicated for me, witch.”

“Easier said than done,” she drawled, “but I'll try. The complicated reason you ain't havin' no happy bouncin' Thor babies is because that ain't whatcha want.”

“The lie of a witch,” hissed Loki, “if you see all then you know I want no other thing with all my heart.”

She pointed to her dilated eye.

“I have one eye in each world,” she said, “and I only need one eye on your heart to know... the reason you want babies is because what you truly want, now and forever, is to be Thor's equal.”

His face split in a smile as he scoffed. The turbulence in his dark, sunken eyes contrasted with the sharp pallid angles of his high, graceful cheekbones.

“And how is that a reason that I cannot conceive? Surely you're not implying that the things happening in my body are things I'm doing to myself?” he asked her.

“I'm not implyin' it, I'm sayin' it outright; your desire to be his equal is manifesting itself in your body as we speak and preventing you from even the thought of conception,” she said.

“Well if I'm the one stopping me, then I need you not, Hag,” he said.

“Maybe not, but let's cut to the simple reason that you ain't getting' pregnant,” she said.

“Oh let's do,” he encouraged.

“The simple reason you can't get pregnant is that you're already pregnant,” she said, “and you can't get anymore pregnant than y'already are.”

“Wh-what?” he stammered.

“Yup. You're carrying. You've been carrying for a long, long time. That's why Thanos couldn't get any viable implants in you. That' why you keep bleedin' when you shouldn't,” she said.

Loki wondered at the possibilities. Before he'd fallen to the nine hells, he'd felt strange, defensive of something new growing within. But if he did have Thor's child inside him, even from before the fall into the nine hells, Loki wondered how in the hell the pregnancy could have survived what Thanos put him through?

“Whose child am I pregnant with?” he demanded.

“Not so much the matter of who got you pregnant or how,” Angerboda started, “I think you damn well know the who and the how, since you were there for all that. It's what you're pregnant with that's the major concern.”

“What am I pregnant with?” Loki asked.

“Rage.”

“Pregnant with rage, what kind of witch nonsense-”

“You're a god,” Angerboda said, “maybe you were born a jotunn runt, but you're a god, now. You ascended to godhood. Gods' wills become reality, that is how you define godhood.”

She put her hand on his belly.

“...and your will is to make manifest your rage,” said she.

He slapped her hand away.

“All I want manifest in my future is a life with Thor, with his children inside me and my child's love in his heart,” Loki shouted, “and I foresee no one trying to block the manifestation of that vision that I won't send to hell, first!”

“Well, I'm a witch, and I can see the future better'n you. Now sit your ass down and lemme tell ya how this is gonna go.”

Angerboda sat on her unmade bed. She patted the space beside her.

“Get comfortable,” she said, “this'll take a bit.”

He rolled his eyes.

“What can you possibly tell me that I need to know,” Loki said.

“Your options,” she said.

He sat beside her with his legs spread and his arms folded across his chest.

“What options,” Loki asked.

“We've got two options. Option one, we can try to abort your rage. And that might kill you, you are a god, and for a god to kill their own will is suicide. It might not kill you. But it'll change you,” Angerboda said.

“How can such a little thing as a change of heart kill a god?” he scoffed.

“We'll talk about how if you like option one,” she said, “but first, hear option two.”

“What's option two?

“Option two: We birth this bitch.”

“Is... is it Thor's?” he asked.

“It's yours,” she said, “it's your baby, your rage, and most importantly your decision. Remember that when I tell you that in answer to your question yes, Thor is definitely in there.”

“Then option two it is,” he said.

“Option two is fatal,” she said.

“You mean, I die in childbirth?” he asked.

“I can prevent you from dying in childbirth,” she said, “but ultimately, if you birth this thing, it'll kill Thor.”

Loki's eyes went wide in understanding.

“I'm carrying the monster from the prophecy that kills Thor,” he said.

“Yup,” she said.

“And I've been carrying it this entire time,” Loki stammered.

“Yup,” she answered.

“Everything Thanos did to me, he couldn't find it when he cut me open, he couldn't kill it with all he did?!”

“It's made of rage,” Angerboda corrected, “if anything, whatever Thanos did to you has nourished the monster.”

“Nourished it? He did this on purpose?”

“Naw, Thanos ain't got a goddamn clue, nor the sense God gave a goose when it comes to knowing what you are,” Angerboda reassured.

Loki said, “What he does know about me, though-”

“Ain't shit,” Angerboda interrupted, “he was trying to figure out what made you a god and couldn't even figure out which label to slap on your junk. Man's a moron with no clue about this thing inside you. There’s no way he’d have known that it feeds off your determination, your rage, and your everlovin' will to survive.”

“How long do we have before it's born,” he asked.

“Hey, hey, that's for me to know,” she said, “don't get worked up. You have options, let's consider those first.”

“W-we can abort it,” he asked, “you're certain we can abort it?”

“Might abort the mother with it, but yeah,” she said “it can be done.”

“If that'll save Thor then what are we waiting for,” he said.

“I mean... it involves abandoning your rage, abandoning who you really are. It involves givin' up on gaining the attention or the love of your brother,” she continued, “forgiving his condescension, forgiving him for treating you as subservient to him, bossin’ ya around, and cruelly shoving you into what he feels is your place. It involves forgiving him for abandoning you over and over again and calmin’ yourself the hell down when you have every right to be angry.”

“Just like the other five,” Loki muttered.

Angerboda nodded.

“Just like the other five.”

“I'm not sure-”

“You'd have to forgive both yourself and him for everything either of you ever did to spark this rage within you in the first place,” she interrupted.

He thought about it. He huffed.

“I don't know if I can,” he said, “I don't even remember where it started.”

“It started when you were kids, when you knew that everyone hated the frost giants by the way they talk.”

“Everyone?”

“All feelings that aren't acceptable in your society are associated with the jotunn,” she shrugged.

He sneered.

“Like what,” he challenged.

“Like, people saying 'look how red your eyes are getting, loser,” she started, “or more boldly, 'you're as cold as a jotun's limp cock,' or the expression 'don't go blue on me.'”

“As a way of expressing cowardice,” Loki said, “comparing us to them because they're crybaby monsters, weak losers who deserved all the pain they got for daring to challenge the strength of Asgard.”

“And do you remember hearing any of that from your parents?” Angerboda asked.

“I remember, even Frigga would tell Thor to man up, that crying red eyes were for sore losers, for the defeated. Said if we cried too much we’d get Jotunn eyes. She tried not to, but she still slipped when she was angry. I remember,” Loki admitted.

“You remember her apologizing?” asked Angerboda.

“No, but, I remember her pausing, awkward, almost scared to silence at any mention of the frost giants. I wanted to know what could possibly concern my mother, what could be so powerful as to give her pause. She was so powerful, and I thought whatever gave her anxiety must be equally dangerous. So the jotunn fascinated me,” he said.

Angerboda cackled. Her sharp laughter stuck in Loki's ears.

“It's funny,” she said, “Thor loved and feared snakes. You loved and feared the jotunn. This thing inside you is a culmination of your love and his, your fears and his, his rage and yours.”

“I see nothing funny about this,” Loki said, “and you're supposed to be helping me get rid of this thing you say is inside me.”

“You're right not to find the humor, it's pretty serious,” said Angerboda, “but the humor is all mine. This rage-baby, it's Thor's rage-baby, too. Funny to me that the seed of his own rage will be the death of him.”

“Heh,” Loki chuckled, “now that is an amusing thought.”

“It'd be healthier for both of youns if I could just get rid of it,” she said, “but y'all'd probably just make another one cause yall’re stupid. That's how most unwanted pregnancies start, anyway; with two people, that're fuckin' stupid.”

Loki giggled and toyed with a knife.

“Now I won't take offense for the insult to my idiot brother, but praytell how you found the nerve to insult me?”

“Cause. Even if you forgive him for everything he's done and everything he has yet to do, if you settle for anythin' less than the two of you side by side forever, you ain't never forgivin' yourself,” she said, “and he will always try to walk ahead. It's at the core of his being, that ain't never gonna change.”

Loki put the knife to her throat and she cackled again. Loki felt the cut of Angerboda's weaponized laughter deeper than she felt the edge of his blade.

“Unless you want Thor dead between the jaws of the rage y'all made together, you're gonna have to accept him just as he is, and take him like he comes. You know this, but you won't settle and you won't accept it. You'll try to change him. That's why you're dumb,” Angerboda said.

“The only dumb thing I've done is speak to a hill witch,” Loki said.

“You know he'll stay the same,” said Angerboda, “you ain't gotta be a witch to see that shit.”

Loki retracted the knife. He sniffed in thought. He tried to quell his rage with forgiveness.

“I don't want this,” Loki said.

“If you didn't want it, it wouldn't grow inside you,” replied Angerboda.

“Can't you change the prophecy?” Loki asked.

“I can,” she said, “but without you abandoning your love and hate of him, it won't matter.”

“My hate and my love,” he asked.

“Hate ain't the opposite of love, son,” Angerboda said, “apathy is. You think that monster growing inside you don't grow on love? You think hate don't grow on top of love?”

“Yes, I hate him, I hate how he is, how he can be, but I don't want him to die,” Loki spat.

“I ain't here to sugar coat this shit for you, sweetheart; his death'll be by his own dumbass actions. Just like all gods' deaths. This monster, birthed of your rage, that he put inside you, will kill him, just as he will kill this rage, proving at the ultimate end of Ragnarok that you are, now, and always have been, equals. Deny it all you want, but that's always been what your heart most desired.”

“So then, I bear it,” Loki stated.

“Yeah,” Angerboda said, “you keep it inside you for as long as you like, but someday it'll burst from you.”

“Once it's out of me,” Loki asked, “can I have another?”

“Yes and yes,” Angerboda answered, “after some recovery, if we do it right, y'all can conceive a happy boucin' Thor baby just like the others. But any of y'all can, at any time, get yourselves all hate-knocked up with another monster. Depends on y'all's wills.”

“Alright, noted,” said Loki, “Now how do we get this bitch out of me?”

-------

“This thing'll wind itself out of you like a horsehair worm from a cricket. Pain'll be long, drawn out, and after it leaves you it will still sting. It's not gonna just rip up your body. It's gonna fracture your mind. Every time you think about this birth it's gonna pain you all over again.”

“Maybe forgiveness is indeed the answer,” Loki said.

“Backpedaling gets you nowhere,” Angerboda said, “This thing will drive you. But it is you. It's part of you. You'll be drawn straight to whatever precious thing you want to see destroyed most in all existence. You'll go there, and you'll lay down there, and you will burst.”

“And after that?” Loki asked.

“Welp,” Angerboda said, “if you're lucky, someone's with you, and they take whatever husk is left of you to the healers.”

“You truly think I'll be that helpless?” Loki asked.

“You're a god, you can take it,” she said, “but yeah I truly think there won't be a lot of you left. Least not enough to save your own skin.”

He looked at her.

“You've seen the future,” Loki said, “tell me who is there for the birth.”

“Just us,” Angerboda said, “just you, and me.”

“Why isn't Thor there,” he asked.

She looked away from Loki.

“I don't wanna tell ya,” she said.

“What do I owe you?” he asked.

“For what?” she asked.

“For your services,” he said, “for being there when it happens, what can I give you to get this answer?”

Angerboda shrugged.

“Nothin' you can give me'd change my mind,” said Angerboda, “and besides. Nobody ever owes a witch. Witches just are. Witches are here, forward and backward through all time. Whatever we want, we speak it, and whatever we speak, it happens. There's nothin' in the nine realms you could give me that would make me happy save one thing; your decision.”

“My decision?” Loki asked.

“Do you wanna have the monster or abort your rage? You can conceive again if you can manage to rid yourself of this hate,” Angerboda said.

“I-I can't decide, I don't know what to decide,” he said.

“You feel like you don't have enough information?” Angerboda asked.

“Oh I do, I just don't want any of it,” he said.

He wept. Angerboda studied him.

“Sounds like you already made up your mind and just don't wanna admit what kinda monsters y'all are,” she said.

Loki nodded. Angerboda took in a deep breath.

“Thor's not there because when you return to the seraglio, he is spending time with the one that, just today, found out he conceived. You didn't want to interrupt that happiness, but when you go off on your own, Thor tracks you down, effectively abandoning the part of you that's happy and simultaneously buggin' the shit out of the part of you that wants to be left alone. So you tell him to get fucked, and then you leave.  You go to Norway, the old battleground, the place where you were birthed and found by Odin, the place where your father died. You birth Jormungangdr on the fjord overlooking the ocean, where he slips into the sea and proceeds to wrap himself around all of midgard, hiding his body in the oceans between the continents. In this act, you fulfill Odin's desire for a peace between Asgard and Jotunheim; a true equality between the kings of those two thrones. That fjord's where I find you, collect what's left of you, and bring you back to Asgard.”

Loki curled into a ball with his forehead on his knees. His long fingers wound into his scalp and he sobbed.

“I didn't want a throne! I didn't want a people! I tried to get rid of it, to do what he couldn't, to destroy every jotunn monster, including myself! So we’d never need to fight each other!  I tried!”

“You would have done it. For him. For them,” she said.

“Why, why now, why must I shed tears for this now?” he asked.

“Crying is normal. Tears are a woman's rage,” Angerboda crooned, “and these tears are the water breaking at the birth of your rage. This is your labor; it has already begun.”

Loki wandered away, pulled by the prophecy of his own burning fury. He fell to his knees, and Angerboda ran to him. She tried to lift him; he was supernaturally heavy.

“So much rage,” she grunted.

He remembered Angerboda lifting him. He did not remember how he got to the fjord in Norway.

The birth was a blur, a haze of pain. Loki vaguely remembered images of the ocean torn asunder between his knees as his rage took form from inside him. He remembered bloodsoaked dragonscales pulsing toward the sea. Angerboda's magic kept most of the agony at bay. She worked to anesthetize both the mother and the monster, knowing full well that the monster would need to sleep for years, lest the world be crushed under his tyranny. Loki remembered the fury of the whirlpools and sea-storms the serpent wrought, proud for the resemblance of his brother's power and wrath. Angerboda chanted a sacred lullaby as the serpent's tail slipped into the waves. The sea calmed itself as Jormugandr suckled his tail like an infant would its thumb, and sank its head to the bottom of the Mariana’s trench so many miles away. After a moment of unconsciousness, Loki's eyes opened to the vision of Angerboda hovering above him.

She said, “...Welp. That happened.”

She knelt beside Loki's trembling husk. She lifted him with the same ease as she could have lifted an overstuffed sack of leaves.

“Wow,” she said, “you're so light, now. So gentle. So, that's how heavy your rage has been, this whole time? Your whole life?”

He looked at her but could not answer.

“It's okay, it's okay,” she said, “we're going back, we'll see him soon.”

-------

The healers scrambled to Angerboda's side. Word got around the seraglio that Avenger Loki was back, with Angerboda, and severely injured. The Lokis divided into two factions, one to protect the brood, and one to face off against the hill witch. A standoff with questions and knives occurred in the healing room. Angerboda walked the healers through many of the steps they needed to save what was left of Avenger Loki's gutted lithe frame. She demanded the other Lokis keep their distance on pain of his same fate befalling them. Thor arrived, mjolnir in hand, to confront the witch.

“What has happened, here?” Thor demanded.

“He bore you a son,” Angerboda said coolly, “and that child is mine, now.”

“Dare you claim a son of Thor as thine, hag?” Ragnarok Loki hissed.

“Nope,” she said, “I claim a son of Loki as mine.”

“I demand to hear these words from his lips,” Thor said.

“He doesn't owe you an explanation,” Angerboda sang, “It was his body, his rules. And you can either stand here bein' a tit about it, or you can hold his hand while he recovers, if you do it gently.”

Thor attempted to push past Angerboda. Angerboda didn't look him in the eyes. She hooked her hand around the nape of his neck and drew him down until his ear met her cheek.

“Before you answer to me,” Angerboda threatened, “you might wanna think whether fuming at some little witch from some little scrap of Nowhere, South, is worth your time.  Imma letcha go.  But when I do, you're going to be gentle, physically and emotionally. Cause if you let your rage and confusion get the better of you, I will pull you to ground and kick you right in your fertile little thundercunt to make sure this shit never happens again, are we perfectly clear?”

“You are aware what consequences such actions would bring down upon your head,” Thor said through chuckling breath.

“I'm more aware than you, but what can I expect? You didn't see any of this comin', you can't see the future. But, remember: I'm a witch. I see a future with you a-layin' right there with your ears red and your hands tucked between your legs wondering if you'll ever fuck again... I hear a future filled with the howls of millions that crave your fertile advances, all wailin' at the news that you can't get it up. And yeah, that's a future where my skull's busted in by that half-staffed whack-a-mole stick in yer paw. In that future, my body's burned away at the stake in exchange for one sweet instance of putting you in your fucking place. Cause it's worth it to make damn sure he knows he's worth defending from your brash idiocy. Now. You wanna go be there for your brother the way you'd want him there for you? Or are we gonna scrap?”

She released the nape of his neck, looked him in the eyes.

“Gentle.” she warned.

Thor kept his eyes on her, his hand on his hammer with a white-knuckle grip. He circled past her; she did not shrink from him.

“...I like her,” Young Loki whispered to his kin.

Thor softened as he approached the bedside. He looked down on Avenger Loki, still thin, with pallor he'd not yet seen. The experience of birth had blunted this Loki's sharp edges as if by photo filter. Where his abs once laid, a sunken hollow remained, as deepset, darkened, and foreboding as his wasting eyesockets.

“Oh, Loki... What did the foul witch do to you,” Thor groaned.

“She made it possible for me to bear your seed,” he whispered.

“Don't make him speak,” Angerboda spat.

The healers nodded in agreement with the witch, and Thor sighed. He stared daggers through Angerboda.

“Alright then, there are time for questions later,” Thor growled.

The healers brought a stool for Thor, which he lowered himself onto. He traced the veins of Loki's limp hand with his fingertips. Young Loki asked Angerboda a great many questions. She answered them all within earshot of Thor. He understood then that Avenger Loki had born unto him a monster.

“It was so beautiful,” whispered Avengers Loki, “it had your strength. It had your rage. I now know exactly how much of your loathing I can bear.”

“Loki, where is the child?” Thor whispered.

“It ain't no child, it's a damn monster,” Angerboda interrupted, “and it's on Midgard just like we was discussin'.”

“True, it is on Midgard, banished to her oceans,” Avenger Loki said, “where it should be made to sleep until the end of days, along with any ill will I ever bore you.”

“Oh, you bore it alright,” Angerboda muttered, “and now you need to shush, rest your pretty head, and recover from that nonsense.”

Thor turned his hot attention to the hill witch.

“You... Mother of monsters,” Thor accused, “be silent!”

“Better the mother of monsters than the absent father of of my own destruction,” Angerboda replied.

“Absent?!” Thor spat, “You're keeping this child from me!”

“That's right, absent,” she drawled, “You abandoned Loki to the nine hells. You abandoned him to the chitauri, you abandoned him to your father's prison, you abandoned him on Niflheim, you left him to die on Sakaar under the threat of the Grandmaster's execution of him, you left him among the wreckage floating in space while you ran for Nidavellir, you have let him walk his path alone forever.  So What makes you think you'll be any more present for this rabble of misplaced trailer trash that the lot of you call a brood?”

Young Loki smiled wide, and leaned forward in his stool, delighted at this newfound entertainment. Thor raised his hammer in Angerboda's direction.

“We will scrap, hag!” Thor began, “but it will not be this moment.”

“Won't it?” she asked.

Thor caressed the wrist and thumb of the weakened Loki.

“It won't,” Thor replied.

“Jormungandr is beyond your reach, just like its mother's true feelings,” Angerboda said, “and to top it off, Jormungandr is beyond your control, just like your own rage.”

“This is me, controlling my rage,” Thor said, “but yet, do not test me further.”

She said, “I can't stop you, and I can't stop the serpent.”

“Then why do you persist with me? Why incite my ire, if you so fear my rage?” Thor asked.

“Because there is no one else in all the nine realms willing to keep an eye on it. Not even you. So here I stand, ready to die, to make sure it all stays down in the depths where no one can rouse it.”

Young Loki's head cocked to one side.

“Do you mean the serpent, or Thor's rage,” he asked.

“Yes,” Angerboda answered, “yes to both.”

“I'm sorry, Thor,” Avengers Loki whispered weakly, “but I'm glad I did it. I feel so much better now, about me, about you. I was able to just let it all go.”

“And y'all are gonna let it stay gone,” Angerboda stated.

“Why? The sooner I conquer the beast, the faster this prophecy is ended,” Thor said.

“You can't end it,” Angerboda said, “if you disperse it's spirit, all that rage and hate and resentment you released will coalesce right back inside of it's mother to be born again, and again, until it destroys one of you, and by extension both of you. Let it go and let me look after it.”

“Once again, this is me, controlling my rage,” Thor said, “and once again you test me with your demands.”

“Once again, he bore you a son, and that child is mine now, because y'all’re fuckin' stupid.”

Young Loki wrung his hands in front of his heart, then put his clasped hands to his grinning mouth. Ragnarok Loki gently caressed Avenger Loki's hair and glared at Angerboda.

“As much as I'm loathe to admit it, 'tis true,” Ragnarok Loki said, “we are all of us quite literally out of our depth against this monster, and so long as you're not going to be a giant tit about it, our family will be happier for leaving it, and the past, at the bottom of the midgardian oceans. This one will make a full recovery, and fulfill his dreams of adding more little ones to our brood of misplaced trailer trash.  All will be well.”

Ragnarok Loki knelt down to place a kiss on his ill brother's pale forehead.

“I could not be happier for you, my sweet,” Ragnarok Loki said.

Avenger Loki smirked weakly up at him with pride.

“Thank you, I'm so glad to hear it,” Avenger Loki said.

“Mark my words though, I will still die at your funeral for this, I swear on our graves,” Ragnarok Loki whispered.

The pair smiled at each other, and Angerboda cackled.  Her weaponized laughter rang discordant down the halls.  Far away, in the seraglio, the children cried in fear, while the other Lokis comforted them.  

“Do you foresee him making a full recovery,” Young Loki asked Angerboda.

“I do,” she admitted, “I see years of happiness and many children in all your futures.”

Find this story on Google Docs at:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xGnt3OuyWF-MrTIu7eb2vXKp9bPJZ9CbsnSYSuxQsUM/edit?usp=sharing

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body.

long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned ass. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

height.

shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm to 150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

skin.

pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

eyes.

small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold amber. hazel. violet. doe-eyed. almond. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

hair.

thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight.smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie-cut. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. vermilion. mohawk. white. platinum blonde.golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mousy brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown.dark brown. jet black. ginger. auburn. dyed red. dyed any “ unnatural color ”. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

tattoos / piercings.

full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand / finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo.monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing(s). genital piercing(s). industrial piercings. earlobe piercing. prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing(s). tongue piercing. lip piercing(s). tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing(s). smiley. nape piercing(s). no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lip gloss. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smoky eyes. colorful eyeshadow. blush. lipliner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears make up regularly. wears makeup from time to time. rarely wears make-up. never wears makeup.

scent.

floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo.cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee cake. mint. rawhide. chemicals.

clothes.

jeans. tight pants. overknee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt. loose skirt. tight / formfitting dress. cardigans. blouse. button up shirt. band t-shirt. sports t-shirt.sweatpants. tanktop. cut off t-shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift.lingerie. long skirt. miniskirt. maxidress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. cocktail dress. highslit dress /skirt. t-shirt. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit. hoodie. harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. boxer-briefs. thong. hot pants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.

shoes.

sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. cowboy boots. knee-high. platforms. stripper heels. bare feet. loafers.

[wayofjashin--archived]

fashion and appearance stats.   bold what applies to your muse!

tagged by.  stolen from dash tagging. anybody

body.

long legs.   short legs.   average legs.   slender thighs.   toned thighs.   thick thighs.   muscular thighs.  slender arms.   toned arms.   flabby arms.   soft arms.   muscular arms.   toned stomach.   flat stomach.   flabby stomach.   soft stomach.   muscular stomach.   beer belly.   lean frame.   muscular frame.  voluptuous frame.   petite frame.   lanky frame.   average frame.   short nails.  long nails.  manicured nails.  dirty nails.   flat butt.   toned butt.   small butt.   large butt.   bubble butt.  small waist.   thick waist.   narrow hips.   average hips.   wide hips.   big feet. average feet.   small feet.   wide feet.   slender feet. soft feet.   calloused feet.   calloused hands.   soft hands.  big hands.  average hands.   small hands.   long fingers. short fingers.   average fingers.   broad shoulders.  narrow shoulders.   average shoulders.   underweight.  average weight.   overweight.

height.

shorter than 140 cm.   141 cm-150 cm.   151 cm to 160 cm.   161 cm to 172 cm.   173 cm to 180cm.   181 cm to 190 cm.   191 cm to 2m.  taller than 2 m.

skin.

warm undertone.   cool undertone.   neutral undertone.  pale.   light.   medium.   dark.   tanned.   blotchy.   smooth.   acne prone.   dry.   oily.   soft.   scarred.

eyes.

small.   large.   average.   gray.   brown.   amber.   black.   blue.   green.   gold.   hazel.   close-set.  wide-set.   monolid.   hooded.   almond.   rounded.   upturned.   downturned.   deep-set.   protruding.

hair.

stringy.   thick.   fine.   oily.   dry.   soft.   brittle.   shiny.   curly.   frizzy.   unruly.  straight.   smooth.   wavy.  pixie cut.   jaw length.   shoulder length.   back length.   waist length.   hip length.   thigh length.   knee length.   floor length.   buzz cut.   undercut.   bald.   mohawk.   white.   platinum blonde.   gray.   golden blonde.   strawberry blonde.   dirty blonde.   ginger.   light brown.   mousy brown.   chestnut brown.  auburn.   copper.   chocolate brown.   dark brown.   black.   dyed.   dyed an unnatural color.   thin eyebrows.  average eyebrows.  thick eyebrows.

modifications.

full sleeve.   one tattoo.   several tattoos.   no tattoos.   nose piercing.   septum piercing.   nipple piercing.   genital piercing.   cartilage piercing.   tragus piercing.   earlobe piercing.  eyebrow piercing.   tongue piercing.   lip piercing.   stretched ears.   navel piercing.   cheek piercing.   nape piercing.   no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner.   heavy eyeliner.   mascara.   fake eyelashes.   matte lipstick.   regular lipstick.   lipgloss.   red lips.   pink lips.   dark lips.   nude lips.   bronzer.   highlighter.   blush.   light contouring. heavy contouring.  neutral eyeshadow.   smoky eyeshadow.   colorful eyeshadow.   powder.  matte foundation.  dewy foundation.   concealer.   wears make up regularly.   wears makeup occasionally.   uses only light makeup.   does not wear makeup.

scent.

light scents.   medium scents.   heavy scents.   floral.   fruity.   woody.   oriental.   oceanic.   perfume.   cologne.   incense.   aftershave.   moisturizer.   soap.   fresh clothes.   cigarettes.   alcohol.   marijuana.   sweat.   blood.  no distinct scent.

attire.

loose clothing.   tight clothing.   conservative.   revealing.   fashion oriented.   not fashion oriented.  dress pants.   jeans.   harem pants.   shorts.   overknee socks.   stockings.   leggings.   sweatpants. skirts.   dresses.  high slit dresses / skirts.  kimono.   yukata.   robes.   cloaks.   armor. turtlenecks.   cardigans.   blouses.  button-ups.   sweaters.   sweater vests.   hoodies.   sweat jackets.   tee-shirts.   graphic tee-shirts.   crop tops.   tank tops.   suits.   ties.   tuxedos.   designer.  online stores.   thrift stores.   purses.   eye-wear.   jewelry.  hats.   scarves.   belts.   lingerie.   boxers.   briefs.   thongs.   cheeky panties.  boyshorts.   hipsters.   bras.   corsets.   fur.   faux fur.  leather.   faux leather.   silk.   lace.   cotton.   velvet.   simple patterns.  elaborate patterns.   simple detail. elaborate detail.   neon colors.  pastels.   normal colors.   dark colors.  neutral colors.

shoes.

sneakers.   slip-ons.  flats.  slippers.  sandals.   high heels.   kitten heels.  platform heels.   ankle boots.  combat boots.   barefooted.  loafers.   oxfords.

[carnivigorous]

fashion and appearance stats.   bold what applies to your muse!

tagged by.   stolen from @iincendiu tagging.  anybody

body.

long legs.   short legs.   average legs.   slender thighs.   toned thighs.   thick thighs.   muscular thighs.   slender arms.   toned arms.   flabby arms.   soft arms.   muscular arms.   toned stomach.   flat stomach.   flabby stomach.   soft stomach.   muscular stomach.   beer belly.   lean frame.   muscular frame.   voluptuous frame.   petite frame.   lanky frame.   average frame.   short nails.   long nails.  manicured nails.   dirty nails.   flat butt.   toned butt.   small butt.   large butt.   bubble butt.   small waist.   thick waist.   narrow hips.   average hips.   wide hips.   big feet.   average feet.   small feet.   wide feet.   slender feet.  soft feet.   calloused feet.   calloused hands.   soft hands.  big hands.  average hands.   small hands.   long fingers.  short fingers.   average fingers.   broad shoulders.  narrow shoulders.   average shoulders.   underweight.  average weight.   overweight.

height.

shorter than 140 cm.   141 cm-150 cm.   151 cm to 160 cm.   161 cm to 172 cm.   173 cm to 180cm.   181 cm to 190 cm.   191 cm to 2m.   taller than 2 m.

skin.

warm undertone.   cool undertone.   neutral undertone.  pale.   light.   medium.   dark.   tanned.   blotchy.   smooth.   acne prone.   dry.   oily.   soft.   scarred.

eyes.

small.   large.   average.   gray.   brown.   amber.   black.   blue.   green.   gold.   hazel.   close-set.  wide-set.   monolid.   hooded.   almond.   rounded.   upturned.   downturned.   deep-set.   protruding.

hair.

stringy.   thick.   fine.   oily.   dry.   soft.   brittle.   shiny.   curly.   frizzy.   unruly.   straight.   smooth.   wavy.  pixie cut.   jaw length.   shoulder length.   back length.   waist length.   hip length.   thigh length.   knee length.   floor length.   buzz cut.   undercut.   bald.   mohawk.   white.   platinum blonde.   gray.   golden blonde.   strawberry blonde.   dirty blonde.   ginger.   light brown.   mousy brown.   chestnut brown.   auburn.   copper.   chocolate brown.   dark brown.   black.   dyed.   dyed an unnatural color.   thin eyebrows.   average eyebrows.   thick eyebrows.

modifications.

full sleeve.   one tattoo.   several tattoos.   no tattoos.   nose piercing.   septum piercing.   nipple piercing.   genital piercing.   cartilage piercing.   tragus piercing.   earlobe piercing.  eyebrow piercing.   tongue piercing.   lip piercing.   stretched ears.   navel piercing.   cheek piercing.   nape piercing.   no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner.   heavy eyeliner.   mascara.   fake eyelashes.   matte lipstick.   regular lipstick.   lipgloss.   red lips.   pink lips.   dark lips.   nude lips.   bronzer.   highlighter.   blush.   light contouring.  heavy contouring.   neutral eyeshadow.   smoky eyeshadow.   colorful eyeshadow.   powder.  matte foundation.   dewy foundation.   concealer.   wears make up regularly.   wears makeup occasionally.   uses only light makeup.   does not wear makeup.

scent.

light scents.   medium scents.   heavy scents.   floral.   fruity.   woody.   oriental.   oceanic.   perfume.   cologne.   incense.   aftershave.   moisturizer.   soap.   fresh clothes.   cigarettes.   alcohol.   marijuana.   sweat.   blood.   no distinct scent.

attire.

loose clothing.   tight clothing.   conservative.   revealing.   fashion oriented.   not fashion oriented.   dress pants.   jeans.   harem pants.   shorts.   overknee socks.   stockings.   leggings.   sweatpants. skirts.   dresses.   high slit dresses / skirts.  kimono.   yukata.   robes.   cloaks.   armor.  turtlenecks.   cardigans.   blouses.   button-ups.   sweaters.   sweater vests.   hoodies.   sweat jackets.   tee-shirts.   graphic tee-shirts.   crop tops.   tank tops.   suits.   ties.   tuxedos.   designer.  online stores.   thrift stores.   purses.   eye-wear.   jewelry.   hats.   scarves.   belts.   lingerie.   boxers.   briefs.   thongs.   cheeky panties.  boyshorts.   hipsters.   bras.   corsets.   fur.   faux fur.   leather.   faux leather.   silk.   lace.   cotton.   velvet.   simple patterns.   elaborate patterns.   simple detail.  elaborate detail.   neon colors.   pastels.   normal colors.   dark colors.  neutral colors.

shoes.

sneakers.   slip-ons.   flats.   slippers.  sandals.   high heels.   kitten heels.  platform heels.   ankle boots.   combat boots.   barefooted.  loafers.   oxfords.

[ketsuekki]

fashion and appearance stats.   bold what applies to your muse!

tagged by. stole it lmao tagging. you !!

body.

long legs.   short legs.  average legs.  slender thighs.   toned thighs.   thick thighs.   muscular thighs. slender arms.   toned arms.   flabby arms.   soft arms.   muscular arms.   toned stomach.   flat stomach.   flabby stomach.   soft stomach.   muscular stomach.   beer belly.   lean frame.   muscular frame. voluptuous frame.   petite frame.   lanky frame.   average frame.   short nails.  long nails.  manicured nails.  dirty nails.   flat butt.   toned butt ??   small butt ??  large butt.   bubble butt.  small waist.  thick waist.   narrow hips.   average hips.   wide hips.   big feet. average feet.   small feet.   wide feet.   slender feet. soft feet.   calloused feet.   calloused hands.   soft hands. big hands. average hands.  small hands.   long fingers. short fingers.   average fingers.   broad shoulders.  narrow shoulders.   average shoulders.   underweight.  average weight.  overweight.

height.

shorter than 140 cm.   141 cm-150 cm.   151 cm to 160 cm.   161 cm to 172 cm.   173 cm to 180cm.   181 cm to 190 cm.   191 cm to 2m.  taller than 2 m.

skin.

warm undertone.   cool undertone.   neutral undertone.  pale.   light.   medium.   dark.   tanned.   blotchy.   smooth.   acne prone.   dry.   oily.   soft.   scarred.

eyes.

small.   large.   average.   gray.   brown.   amber.   black.   blue.   green.   gold.   hazel.   close-set.  wide-set.   monolid.   hooded.   almond.   rounded.   upturned.   downturned.   deep-set.   protruding.

hair.

stringy.   thick.   fine.   oily.   dry.   soft.   brittle.   shiny.   curly.   frizzy.   unruly. straight.   smooth.   wavy. pixie cut.   jaw length.   shoulder length.   back length.   waist length.   hip length.   thigh length.   knee length.   floor length.   buzz cut.   undercut.   bald.   mohawk.   white.   platinum blonde.   gray.   golden blonde.   strawberry blonde.   dirty blonde.   ginger.   light brown.   mousy brown.   chestnut brown.  auburn.   copper.   chocolate brown.   dark brown.   black.   dyed.   dyed an unnatural color ( she was born w/ it lol ).  thin eyebrows. average eyebrows.  thick eyebrows.

modifications.

full sleeve.   one tattoo.   several tattoos.   no tattoos.   nose piercing.   septum piercing.   nipple piercing.   genital piercing.   cartilage piercing.   tragus piercing.   earlobe piercing.  eyebrow piercing.   tongue piercing.   lip piercing.   stretched ears.   navel piercing.   cheek piercing.   nape piercing.   no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner.   heavy eyeliner.   mascara.   fake eyelashes.   matte lipstick.   regular lipstick.   lipgloss.   red lips.   pink lips.   dark lips.   nude lips.   bronzer.   highlighter.   blush.   light contouring. heavy contouring.  neutral eyeshadow.   smoky eyeshadow.   colorful eyeshadow.   powder.  matte foundation.  dewy foundation.   concealer.   wears make up regularly.   wears makeup occasionally.   uses only light makeup.  does not wear makeup.

scent.

light scents.   medium scents.   heavy scents.   floral.   fruity.   woody.   oriental.   oceanic.   perfume.   cologne.   incense.   aftershave.   moisturizer.   soap.   fresh clothes.   cigarettes.   alcohol.   marijuana.  sweat.   blood.  no distinct scent.

attire.

loose clothing.  tight clothing.   conservative.   revealing.  fashion oriented.  not fashion oriented. dress pants.   jeans.   harem pants.  shorts.   overknee socks.   stockings.   leggings.   sweatpants. skirts.   dresses.  high slit dresses / skirts.  kimono.   yukata.   robes.   cloaks.   armor. turtlenecks.   cardigans.   blouses.  button-ups.   sweaters.   sweater vests.   hoodies.   sweat jackets.   tee-shirts.   graphic tee-shirts.   crop tops.  tank tops.   suits.   ties.   tuxedos.   designer.  online stores.   thrift stores.   purses.   eye-wear.   jewelry.  hats.   scarves.   belts.   lingerie.   boxers.   briefs.   thongs.   cheeky panties.  boyshorts.   hipsters.   bras.   corsets.   fur.   faux fur.  leather.   faux leather.  silk.   lace.   cotton.   velvet.   simple patterns.  elaborate patterns.   simple detail. elaborate detail.   neon colors.  pastels.   normal colors.   dark colors.  neutral colors.

shoes.

sneakers.   slip-ons.  flats.  slippers.  sandals.  high heels.   kitten heels.  platform heels.   ankle boots. combat boots. barefooted.  loafers.   oxfords.

[kazran-sardick]

Tagged by Stolen from:  @kindnessneedsbravery Tagging: anyone who wants to do this x

BODY.

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms.  Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach.  Six-pack. Beer belly.  Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame ( 5 ft 4 or shorter ). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Thick thighs. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulder. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

HEIGHT.

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN.

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Soft.

EYES.

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

HAIR.

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blondette. Ombre. Light brown. Mousy brown. Chestnut brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet.black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS.

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angelbites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

COSMETICS.

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make-up.      

SCENT.

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturiser. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Sugar. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood.

CLOTHES.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports tshirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop. Fur. Faux fur. Leather. Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skit. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sportsbra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors.

SHOES.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors.