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mooishbeam · 1 year ago

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『♡』 Rises the Moon

♡ featuring: dan heng IL x f!reader

♡ summary: you help dan heng work through his heat cycle wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: canon-divergent, breeding, praise, kinda sad but wholesome, monster-fucking, heat cycle, blowjob, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, biting

notes: super canon divergent ik vidyadhara can't have kids but ahhh dan heng breed brainrot :P ruahh I need that lc

Cracked from a shimmering pearl into the cold deception of a ship no longer home, that damned his ill-fated legacy. A lonely forgone dragon wanders a lifetime in purgatory, searching for hands to follow, for he was reborn into the dead silence of solitude. He stretched his inhuman heart as far as it could reach, enough for anyone to hold. But it twisted and tangled in thorns, cradled by serpents' eyes that prayed for his ruin. In brief moments of rest, his visions were suffocated with catastrophic destruction unbeknownst to the reincarnate. When he was eventually released, no one turned for him; a trail of fire he would have to walk alone, bleeding for repentance until his sin was permanently consumed by the collapsing universe.

A race cursed to live forever rarely knew joy or love to its full extent, as all things mortal would return to the ground beneath them. It wasn’t worth the attachment, nor the deserved doom of a man denied salvation.

Your arrival at the space station upturned his perception. He wasn’t sure why he yearned to be near you, why his senses craved your smell and sight. He had to distance himself from you as much as possible, but the melody of your pure voice stored a rhythm in his core that could not be removed. He lamented the blooming affection in his discernment. Often lying awake at night, struggling to satiate the urges.

To you, he was Dan Heng. The solemn, headstrong friend that seldom spoke in your presence. Your favorite pastime was playful banter; he rarely smiled, but it pulled at your heartstrings when the corners of his lips slightly lifted. When he picked at his food, you went out of your way to find out what he preferred and arranged your meals around his. You spent almost all of your time on the parlor car. That isn’t to say you weren’t interested in adventuring, you frequently noted the prettiest gems March showed you during their trips. You asked Dan about the stuff he enjoyed, but it’d usually amount to “I was too focused on staying alive to take in the scenery.” You recall entering your room after their return and noticed an iron scrap flower sitting on your windowsill. Dan nonchalantly admitted to the act, mentioning how he overheard your liking for metallic constructs. You originally thought this was simply an extension of your friendship, but the burning ache in your body spoke otherwise. The little things he did, such as bringing small gifts or ingredients for you to experiment with made you seek that numbed heart, imprisoned in ice.

Himeko joked about your sour mood whenever Dan Heng was gone. You read while she stared at you, amused by the pout on your face. “Hmm, your boy toy is missing. Feeling down?” Your head shot up, ears hot from the assumption.

“W-what? No, of course not. We’re friends, Himeko.” you panicked. She softly giggled.

“Don’t worry. They’re coming back soon.” You peeked up from the pages.

“...When?” you mumbled. “A few days. Now you can stop being so sad.”

You were ecstatic when they arrived, ready to hear about their grueling journey, and more so happy to see Dan Heng. As March relived her storytelling, you observed him. He seemed to be in a trance. His expression was the same as always, but he felt disconnected from you, like he discerned a grim future. He didn’t come to dinner and went to sleep. When you asked March if something happened, she shifted uncomfortably but finally spoke.

“Dan Heng...he changed on the Xianzhou Luofu.” She’d conveniently left out most of the story.

“What do you mean ‘changed’?” you questioned, finding it hard to mask your worries. “He had horns and... It was all really new. I kinda wanna forget about it, too.” You didn’t pressure her for more information, and she went to her room shortly after. You tossed in your sleep, wondering what he must’ve gone through, and what you could do to help him.

You awoke in an inky blue void, the stars cascading a brilliant aura across the night. There were no other planets visible; only the vast moon, a divinely warm glow, alluring and protective in your gaze. Heavenly bodies carried infinitely above, shaping the moon in its godlike image. You stood in a comparatively small pool of iridescent liquid that waterfalled off each side. It marbled from refracted shimmers, cool to the touch. Somehow life emerged in the barren quiet, white lotus’ decorating most of the area. They never spilled down the stream, as if they'd been waiting. In said pool, was a man with elvish ears and gleaming horns, kneeling turned away from you. His pale arms were shackled behind him, and his delicate hair cascaded down his naked back. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sobs he tried to stifle. You wanted to comfort him, to calm his nerves. You took a step, and he stopped. He didn’t acknowledge you. You took another step, your hand wishing to touch him. Before you could, you phased out of your dream.

For the next two weeks, he didn’t leave his room. Not when you were around. At the same time, this reoccurring dream was plaguing your thoughts. It ended the same way each time. March aimed to console you, but you felt she knew more than she led on. Fatigued from your restless mind, you decide to talk to Himeko instead. She stirs her drink while Welt reads the paper.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” said Welt.

“Good...morning.” you yawned, rubbing your worsening eyebags.

“You don’t seem okay. Is everything alright?” Himeko asks, motioning for you to sit beside her.

“Something is wrong with Dan Heng and March isn’t telling me everything. I was hoping you would.” Welt clears his throat, sets the paper on the table and walks away. Himeko puts her hand on your knee.

“He’s feeling unwell right now. It’s best we don’t disturb him.”

“I’ve been having this weird dream, of a guy with horns. He’s crying. And I can’t save him. What does this mean? Why is everyone keeping this from me?” Alarm flashes in her expression, but she composes herself. She sucks in a deep breath. “Do you know what a Vidyadhara is?”

“No.”

“Vidyadhara descended from dragons, and they’re very powerful. Dan Heng is a special case of Vidyadhara, so we must treat him as such.”

“So why can’t I see him?”

“It’s important that we avoid him while he’s in the process of...getting through this.”

“But someone has to check on him, right? I could be the one to do it-”

“(Y/N). Dan Heng requested specifically, that I don’t allow you to see him.” You felt your heart pierce. You believed you were friends with him, so why was he forcing you away? “Oh. Okay.” you said meekly. You went back to your room to contemplate.

You were a ghost throughout the day, serving food in silence. When the crew went to bed you prepared a hearty soup to soothe whatever illness he had. He’d probably reject it, but the selfish side wanted to know why he was upset with you. Even if he didn’t have an answer, perhaps his voice would be adequate. Arriving at his door, you knock twice gently.

“I have some soup for you. Himeko said you were feeling ill. I won’t disrupt you, just want to make sure you’re eating.” He said nothing. “If you’re not hungry, let me know and I can store it for tomorrow. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.” You hear rustling inside, but he still said nothing.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you to go away.” His voice is feeble, and it scares you.

“Can I please leave this on your desk? I’ll go away right after, I promise.” You 're practically begging, but you need to see him and know he’s okay. Dan Heng’s weakening mindset rationalizes his risky judgement, and he allows you to come in. He should be able to defend you from himself with the strength he has left; there’s no other choice. “Okay.”

When you open the door, you’re horrified at the state. Books and precious documents were strewn across the floor or shredded, along with most of the blankets. He’s hunched over on the futon clenching his abdomen, strands of hair sticking to his shiny forehead and puffy lips. He was in a form you've never seen, dressed in elegance in contrast to his shaking figure. The clothes were disheveled, however, the window on his top ripped down the middle, exposing the muscular torso underneath with his pants pulled just under his v-line. He's flushed and sweating, a look in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you. What was most shocking were the pointy ears and horns protruding from his head. The same ones from your dream. He tracks you as you walk to his desk. He’s undoubtedly weak, and yet you feel hunted. You set the soup down.

“Shouldn’t you ask Bailu about this?”

“I did already. There’s nothing she can do. I have to wait.” You get on your knees next to him, and he recoils from your proximity.

“Wait for what?”

“I'm hot all over, all the time. Nothing I do works, even when I feel good it’s not enough.” he rasps. His eyes are shut in an attempt to null the intense sensation blazing in his veins. You ultimately realize what he means and regret your cluelessness. Still, you don’t leave, deconstructing his resolve. Suddenly, Dan Heng feels the tender press of your palm to his forehead; the touch of someone he could recognize in different timelines and different bodies. The scent of morning dew at early sunrise, the light in its darkness, bitter and sweet and persistent. He punished the thought of ravaging you, but the incessant thump of his member was staggering. He grabs your wrist tight, a guilty look in his eyes.

“I can’t control myself. Go. Now” he shouts. His anger doesn’t scare you, and your other hand caresses his cheek.

“Does it hurt? I can help you.” Dan Heng’s frozen as your fingers travel down his Adam's apple, then his chest, to the hem of his bottoms. He’s on his back taking deep labored breaths, the print growing from your airy brushes.

“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”

You spring his cock free, and it bounces into your hand. It’s thick and almost twelve inches, a rosy-brown gradient to the mushroom tip. His veins dance around the rounded spikes lining up his shaft on both sides. A frustrated sigh leaves him, beads of pre come dripping down his balls. You lubricate your hands with his slick and start to slowly pump him. His head is spinning, the intoxicating ecstasy makes him rut his hips and bite his blushed lips. You fondle his balls with one hand while massaging the tip with the other. Whimpers echo pleasantly in your ears, and he can’t stop watching you, drinking up your shy glances. It twitches in your hold; you can feel how close he is. He’s falling apart because of you and your dampened underwear accepts it. You push your thumb in his mouth and part it to reveal excessive drool and sharp canines.

“Do you like it?” you tease. He makes noise resembling an “uh huh” through teary eyes.

“You wanna come?” He quivers from the question. He can only manage a moan. You move to his base, and you slaver at the daunting size before running your tongue along the urethra and taking him in your mouth. He throws his head back but tries to restrain himself from bucking into you. You can barely get it halfway as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head, he trembles from unconstrained pleasure.

“Please, I’ll do anything please let me come” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks. You move your hands with the suction along his gradually noisy whimpers, the occasional gag from sloppy grinding.

“Ah, ‘m gonna come-” he chokes, his chest hitched rapidly, spurting ropes that flood your throat. He rides the wave against you until you pull up. When you meet with him again, his demeanor changes. He instantly snatches you into his arms and smothers his nose in your stomach. He tears your clothes off impatiently, just to taste your bare skin. “Dan-”

“You smell so good. Aeons, why do you smell so good.” He gazes at you darkly, littering wet kisses across your stomach and chest. His slender hands grope and explore anything they can reach. It was like he had a burst of energy; he nearly lifts you off his lap. You notice his horns get progressively longer, a dim radiance outlining them. His nails grew too, they dragged light scratches over your breasts to your hips. He pulls you to him, lips barely hovering before they collide into a deep, passionate exchange. Unspoken words allow teeth and tongue to mix, and you moan into each other. The pheromones hugging his consciousness are addictive, he needs more of it. He promptly flips you on your back, his eyes look down on you with a starving glint.

“I’m hungry now.”

“Oh sure, I can warm up the-”

“No. Let me eat you.” His statement was more of a demand than a request, as he mangles your panties down your legs. He forces your thighs back and appreciates the glistening sticky folds. “Stunning” he purrs. He licks a flat strip to your clit and laps up your juices, then envelops his mouth in your heat. His firm squeeze prevents you from escaping the determined pink muscle, swirling and twisting around you. He switches between French kisses to your vulva and merciless sucking on the erect bud. He’d rather drown in you than catch his breath, your essence covers his jaw and chin. You card your fingers through his scalp and accidentally sweep his horns; he shudders. You rub the pad of your thumb on it, earning a strangled whimper. His tongue sinks into your passage and begins to move at a brutal pace. You tease the sensitivity in his horns, flicking and circling them. The vibrations from his moans rock against your walls and your hips stutter. “Ah- I’m close” you plead. He stimulates your clit, and you pulse around him before your back arches, and you unwind. His mouth is stitched to you as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He continues to devour your climax. He hoists your lower half off the ground, savoring your honeyed desire, laughing from your overstimulated cries. You’re spasming and feel your heart racing in your ears. He stops at the approaching precipice and lays you down. Balmy kisses dot your knees.

“Please Dan Heng, more” you beg.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.” He's throbbing, and he straightens your legs to roll his hips between your thighs. The plush fat cuddles his cock and he pants. You grab his hand.

“It’s okay, I’m yours. I know you don’t mean to hurt me.”

“But-”

“I love you” you blurt out. “Please, I want to have this with you. I can handle it, I promise.” Your vulnerability surprises you, and he stops.

“You...love me?” he questions. For a split second, you see sadness and despair. No one stood to consider an exile incapable of love, but you did. No one bothered to defrost the drifting hollow, but you did. The undying weeps.

“I love you. I would destroy every star and planet in your name. Carve your worth into the cosmos so that even Fuli could worship your memory. I am yours in its entirety, and I’ll only live for you.” You wipe the tears as they come down and kiss his troubles away.

“I want you inside me” you whisper. He stands and scoops you up, his hands on your ass and your arms around his neck. He aligns his tip with your sex and lowers you into the plunge. The stretching blaze of your walls accommodating his girth is excruciating.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.” You give him a reassuring smile. He’s stuffing you full, the spikes knead your inner walls the deeper he goes. He bottoms out and stays there for a while.

“Tell me when to move” he soothes.

“Go ahead.” He starts an unrelenting tempo, and you grip him like a vice, your arousal drenching his balls. The thundering sound of desperate huffs and squelching, smacking flesh is almost embarrassing; you both don’t care, indulging each other. You could’ve sworn you saw something similar to a dragon's tail swaying behind him, or maybe your mind played tricks on you. Strings of saliva connect his fangs, eyes cloudy with carnal impulse and cock twitching from the friction. He can see the bulge snapping in and out of your stomach and groans.

“Deeper.” He pulls out and lays you on the futon before positioning you in a mating press. In one swoop he jackhammers your cunt, balls swinging and ragged breath on your ear. His hair blankets you and you soak in his sweating physique, his needy appearance.

“Gonna breed this pretty pussy” he moans. Eyeing the unoccupied space on your neck, he salivates. You guide his lips to your neck, encouraging him, and he takes the bait. He ruptures the skin with sharp teeth; harsh puncture wounds remain. He licks the blood away, adamant on claiming you. The spikes massage your g-spot, and your eyes loll back, pleasure and pain blurring. Dan Heng loses his composure, frenetic thrusting as he chases his release.

“I’m gonna come!”

“That’s it, come with me, my love” he groans. You see black as tremors overtake you and a stream of squirt coats you both. Your wails flow into the halls. Your contracting vulva sends him over the edge, and he finally comes undone, painting your insides to the hilt. You milk every last drop of his gushing seed, and he jerks a few times until limp. The creamy, swelling base pushes your folds to capacity. It's barbed wire in your gut. He strokes and kisses your face.

“I'm sorry, it’ll go down soon.” With your legs wrapped around him and his head snug against your cheek, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to go down.

His curse may not be lifted through your embrace. But in your arms, his shackles don't feel as heavy.

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #dan heng smut #dan heng il #dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr #dan heng imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae

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kathegoose · 7 months ago

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quick LC doodles my sister asked me to make. flower man and moon man HOORAY !

#lethal company #lethal company fanart #my art #lethal company bracken #lethal company employee #i also drew coilhead and bracken kissing fanart as a joke for someone but i dont want to show it i do not want it to plague my blog

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lavalais76 · 3 months ago

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Sansa’s Hair/Jon Snow

r/asoiaf 2yr agoRyanBarnes13

The Real Honey Colored Hair(Spoilers Extended)

EXTENDED

Every reader knows the great song, The Bear and The Maiden Fair, and everyone knows all the theories about Dany/Jorah, Jaime/Brienne. But every single theory misses the most important point. What exactly is honey colored hair? Most everyone assumes honey-blond.... it’s easy to remember, it fits the theories easy, and in martins story it is indeed a type, but not the one your supposed to find.

Dany, Jaime are red herrings. The entire song itself is the story of TWOW. The tourney in the Vale, most lords not selling food, the NW and wildlings and Northerners needing to buy food now that Jon has a loan... and yes Jon is the dancing bear. How? He is a figuratively adopted son of Jeor Mormont. He is given the family sword, trained as Mormonts replacement, is chosen LC after Mormonts bird chooses him.... Jon is a bearded bear. All black (NW black), and dark brown, hair and beard....

Who is his three companions? Pyp, Grenn, and Edison Tollet, who has family in the vale. More than likely. So connections, and there is one more, the goat.

Now this one is tinfoil so far, but he is the hooded man in winterfell. The Blackfish. Who disappeared from the story, and has not gone to any loyal holdfasts, cannot go to the Vale.... But has been described as a goat.

Her uncle listened silently, heavy brows shadowing his eyes as his frown grew deeper. Brynden Tully had always known how to listen … to anyone but her father. He was Lord Hoster's brother, younger by five years, but the two of them had been at war as far back as Catelyn could remember. During one of their louder quarrels, when Catelyn was eight, Lord Hoster had called Brynden "the black goat of the Tully flock." Laughing, Brynden had pointed out that the sigil of their house was a leaping trout, so he ought to be a black fish rather than a black goat, and from that day forward he had taken it as his personal emblem. AGOT Catelyn 6

In AFFC Brienne 5, the high road to the Vale is closed by now. Leaving one loyal area, the Neck. Where the last nobles who went south were headed to find Reed, and deliver the verbal orders. Basically he is the reason the Frey’s disappear. His job in Robb’s army was the outriders.

But back to the point, honey isn’t just honey-blond. It’s actually the color least associated with honey colored hair. The darker the honey, the stronger the taste.... and it is shown throughout almost all the books. Darker honey is brown and looks red in the light.

The first time honeyed hair appears, it is a redhead. Yes a redhead. And tyrion knows women and women’s assets, so we should listen.....

Two other girls sat playing at tiles before a leaded glass window. The freckled one wore a chain of blue flowers in her honeyed hair. The other had skin as smooth and black as polished jet, wide dark eyes, small pointed breasts.” ACOK Tyrion 3

Freckles are a common occurrence with redheads... But by the time we get to Tyrion 7 we have read to much and forgot when we get the actual hair color.

Is milord feeling unloved?” Dancy slid into his lap and nibbled at his ear. “I have a cure for that.” Smiling, Tyrion shook his head. “You are too beautiful for words, sweetling, but I’ve grown fond of Alayaya’s remedy.” “You’ve never tried mine. Milord never chooses anyone but ’Yaya. She’s good but I’m better, don’t you want to see?” “Next time, perhaps.” Tyrion had no doubt that Dancy would be a lively handful. She was pug-nosed and bouncy, with freckles and a mane of thick red hair that tumbled down past her waist. But he had Shae waiting for him at the manse.” ACOK Tyrion 7

Funnily enough, she is a combination of Sansa, and Ygritte. Long haired like Sansa, pug nose and bouncy breasts like Ygritte. Ygritte is ACOK Jon 6 for her pug nose, shaggy mop of red hair that is messy, and ASOS Jon 3 for her breasts...

So red heads are honey colored. And associated with blue flowers in their hair, so let’s see some other examples....

A dark young man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn of mead. A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace of hens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and red sat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing:” ASOS Jon 1.

Val is blonde.

Val looked at him with pale grey eyes. “He always climbed too fast.” She was as fair as he’d remembered, slender, full-breasted, graceful even at rest, with high sharp cheekbones and a thick braid of honey-colored hair that fell to her waist.” ASOS Jon 10

Pale grey eyed, honey-colored hair.....

Val stood beside him, tall and fair. They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. Beneath an ermine cloak, she wore white and gold. Her honey-blond hair had been done up in a thick braid that hung over her right shoulder to her waist. The chill in the air had put color in her cheeks.” ADWD Jon 3 Grey eyed once again. Honey-blond hair.

The light of the half-moon turned Val’s honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. “The air tastes sweet.”” ADWD Jon 8 And in the moonlight honey-blond hair is a pale silver.

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.”

“They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her EYES WERE BLUE, her LONG BRAID THE COLOR OF DARK HONEY, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.” ADWD Jon 11

And here we go, eyes are BLUE, her long braid the color of DARK HONEY..... Jon is not seeing Val... it’s the same thing that happens when he sees Melisandre..... he sees who he lies to himself is Ygritte..... but when does Ygritte have LONG reddish brown hair? Jon knows one female with LONG REDDISH HAIR. Who currently has CHESTNUT HAIR. SANSA.... Martin makes a great distinction between honey in the hair, reddish, dark honey, brown and honey-blond. You are supposed to get sucked into honey-blond and miss the true honey.

But the answer lies with Jon 6, and Ghost himself brushing against Jon, Jon is receiving visions, or glimpses of the future while still conscious. Basically he has become one with ghost already. It first truly started when Jon takes the new recruits to the hearttree to swear their vows. He smells better, sees better....

In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day. When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said. “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s. Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. “You will freeze your fingers off,” Jon warned.” ADWD JON 6

Once again the night came alive, Jon’s senses are massively increased. He thinks Ygritte because men see what they expect to see. Same with Sansa and her unkiss, her dream thing of Payne coming up the tower stairs. Lady is dead yes, but notice how Martin describes her, Lady’s Shade. A proper noun. Not a common shade.

And as a bonus, in the TWOW Alayne 1 chapter, Harry described his new baby momma like this:

Saffron is very beautiful, tall and slim with big brown eyes and HAIR LIKE HONEY. Alayne raised her head,” more beautiful than me?”

Google Saffron.... it’s a red spice... RED. The most costly spice by weight in the world....

Now here’s Sansa described as her Alayne persona....

And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut. Men see what they expect to see, Alayne.”” AFFC Alayne 1 It’s almost the exact same description. Auburn Sansa is the true honey haired wench. Who loves to dance.

And as we have been shown throughout every book, men do see what they expect to see... especially when one is glamoured..... And to show that really pale blond hair is not true honey,

He doesn’t like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey.” ASOS Arya 8

#jon x sansa #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa #jonsa meta

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bernardmarx · 2 years ago

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Ferdinand - FIERCE more info below but be nice, im bad at writing and there's a lot. warning for things typical in projmoon media as well as mentions of abuse and trauma

Ferdinand, manager of LC-T-10, is a distortion, mostly representing childhood trauma, anger at unfairness and blind rage protecting what little innocence is left. He was born in the backstreets in a district near the outskirts. His family was anything but stable, his father an infamous pit fighter that had unbeatable strength, and his mother a sickly woman who only wished the best for him. Having to find a job very early in his life he followed his father, becoming a pit fighter himself, hearing about the sort of instinctual freedoms you got from battling people until either you died, ran, or won. People knew his dad and thus speculated his potential, planning to kidnap him, eventually doing so. Ferdinand became their prized battler, hoping to secure bets for spectators. His teen years were filled with abuse and violence, Ferdinand slowly losing sight of that dull dream he had, moving forward with his eyes closed, hoping that if he did well enough he'd be let free or feel that freedom his dad might've felt. He grew to be a scarred man, only occasionally being taken to different rings to fight and seeing slight glimpses of the City, wishing every moment that he could run into it. After years of bloodshed and the light being dispersed upon City denizens, Ferdinand distorted, finally letting the pent up anger release. After rampaging a large portion of the backstreets, killing, crushing, and maiming hundreds, he was eventually captured and sent to Limbus Co., HR seeing just how much potential he had for their benefit. He now has ended up in a very familiar situation, taken advantage of by people who don't care for what he wants, slowly dying in a cage.

Ferdinand's distortion has two forms to it

a figure typical of that seen in the beginning of the ensemble, a mostly humanoid version of himself with the addition of bull features and a crimson veil covering his eyes (blind rage protecting innocence)

a form of a huge bull, flowers covering the head, the veil split in two, and a estoque planted uncomfortably between the shoulders

His main humanoid form is what you will mostly see, the veil immovable, making his face impossible to see. His second form is brought out when Ferdinand experiences some sort of regression, either to a completely angered and tantrum filled mind or a childish one, something common to see when he sleeps. Lucas, a previous farmhand, father, and now a sinner of Ferdinand's branch, takes care of him through these phases, understanding patience is key to handling Ferdinand.

Even with Ferdinand's frequent angry outbursts, he respects his the people he looks after, angered by HRs treatment of them, even if he doesn't fully understand what they may have done to be there. He still has a childish and ignorant forgiveness for those under LCB's jurisdiction, at the very least understanding that this is a hell, not a home.

#PSE ferdinand #limbus company oc #limbus oc #sinner oc #lettering #this is our third PM oc based off of bull fighting that uses a lot of it as a metaphor for abuse and trauma #did you know that we're totally sane ^.^#like one of our favorite limbus OCs and we have... 40+ of them now

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loplainlointhemorning · 2 years ago

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their body is covered in moles that look like half-healed cigarette burns as though they moonlighted as a child prostitute somewhere in Paris as in the early pages of Lolita. I feel evil for even noting this; how would I feel if a man noted every spot on my body, and kept a record of where those spots were thickest their color, their shape, became obsessed with them laid awake at night pondering on them. but how, then, would I also feel for my obsessive compulsive brethren who cannot stop washing their hands? pity. I found them in the lounge I did not know about in the rafters, throwing a child’s tantrum over a poorly painted wooden gun, their hands, wrapped around the base of the gun, are smaller or as small as mine. they do not need my assurance but I promise them a thousand guns, knives, and cutlasses if they will only stop with the fussing over mundane things a beloved baby ought not to bother about. I cannot say this; I leave to sit alone. they never sit with me; when they do sit they are tense, waiting. they teach etiquette to the children; “get his attention,” they say, and I call them Sir, when I thank them for advice, hoping they’ll get it, get it “hello, how are you!” not a real question, god, how would it be to fuck someone who cares about something? I feel asexual as a flower, it is innately bad, taught God, to want things. the dim purple Christmas lights through the window of the dormitory the rain on the sidewalk of the world I do not inhabit “your philosophers died because they sought only happiness, tinged with no other emotions.” I lay in her arms every night and she does not know it. when the refrain played, I saw a heart in the tree branches, and the shell of the moon in the sky, when I asked my mother, she told me to stop trying to force myself to fuck girls. did they wave, or did I not see them? the slight venom in their voice, “you weren’t here, so you got shafted” normally I’d gut someone for talking to me like that, do you understand? all I think now is, god, how tired you must be. god, how much it hurts to love what you do. “to be free one must give up a little part of oneself” here is my field journal; collection of all the little things I am giving up, so many droplets so many purple lights hollow through the spring rain. - field journal, lc kane

#aberdeen spoken word #this is completely unedited and i have been awake since 7:30 but the trick #to get me to do things is not to let me try to fix them #and i need to start creating outside of just music again lol #so! here ya go #i think some of it is good

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meanyart · 11 months ago

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to get a better look at you

#the bracken #god help me my brain is pouring out of my ears over this character.#lc flower man #flower man #lethal company fanart #lethal company flower man #lethal company bracken #lethal company #we love the company #my art #monster lover #artists of tumblr #art blog #sketchbook #doodles #ink drawing #monster #lc bracken

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devoidable · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀 。

﹟꒰ beta werewolf / 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌 owner。꒱

𝐓𝐋𝐃𝐑 。 A longtime LC resident, lifetime troublemaker, with a deep desire to believe in unconditional love (but never one to receive very much of it), and a natural born cynic. Loyal to HIMSELF and those who are loyal to him only. Even among his own PACK he has never been one to fall in line easily; prone to poking holes in his parachute. Solemn + lonely + angry / patient + attentive + still learning how to love .

FULL BIOGRAPHY HERE 。CONNECTIONS PAGE.

SKIM FRIENDLY SUMMARY BELOW 。

He grew up in an affluent family who put image first, with a hands-off father and a socialite mother. His natural instincts were to fight against any restrictions, and acting out is not just his second nature but his first (this stands true to this day).

They moved partially as a part of his parents careers but also to escape Hanzo's reprimands from being both a poor student and one who caused regular fights/trouble with other students.

After moving to Lunar Cove when Hanzo was 15, this did not improve immediately. But he met a girl he liked who thought he was mean and it did make him look at himself a little differently.

He shaped up just a bit, mellowed out, took up an after school job gardening for an elderly. He got his attitude and grades and sense of purpose back above board (cue the first instance of Hanzo's still remaining instinct to change himself under pressure or for others to love him).

He went through another rough patch for a while. Around 18 he found his way into the Pack, (already knowing several werewolves and having friends among the pack helped), seeking family and a sense of purpose, as well as a sense of strength and power.

Over the years he's remained loyal to the pack, though just barely. He has a hot and cold relationship with all of them, just as he does with most people in his life. But ultimately, he's been a member for so long now, the only way to leave is to make a play for the alpha (which he teeters on the thought of doing at least once a month).

He doesn't generally make friends easily, and isn't supremely easy to get along with, but he has his moments.

Much like his green thumb with plants, he is quite patient and attentive, calm and down to earth when he wants to be (keywords there lol). But once he warms up he generally has more good days than bad.

His self sabotaging habit might be clear to anyone who's known him for more than a year or 2 whoops.

A rare breed of introverted Leo, all the passion and showboating but in all the wrong ways.

Of average intelligence (lower when it comes to emotional intelligence tbh lol), he's a practical man, hands-on/man of action, he thrives when putting his head to a task, or when experimenting with an outcome.

As a business owner he's hands-on as well. He's frequently in shop and even curates his own flowers to sell there. In fact if the man has a proper passion or a single thing he doesn't keep his guard up with it's anything flowers/landscaping. It's maybe the only easy in you'll have to get closer to him without resistance.

#my bby ♥#intro for pinning n tingz #& for mobile

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puutterings · 2 years ago

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meanwhile, a study of Rocks in Sepia

Yesterday morning I took my first painting-lesson, and lor! it is very funy. Professor Hummel is very much, to look at, like Dr. Hedge; and he has his “Atelier,” as he calls it, all about in two little parlours. When I went in, so found I two ladies puttering away, and a gentleman with his neatly prepared drawing-board painting... The Professor had got me a table and copy all fixed out, and I sate down to copy a study of Rocks in Sepia. Alas, dear Herst! this man’s method is totally different, and so old-fashioned and arrière! To copy every darned line in pencil before the colour!! To Miss Lucretia P. Hale / Frau Biber’s Erfurte-strasse, Tuesday evening, December 3, 1872 100 : link

Meanwhile, Tilton has kept me the whole winter puttering over the decorating book, which is now really going to press at once; he will pay me twenty-five dollars more, which makes a hundred... To Miss Ellen Day Hale / Boston, February 20, 1885 144 : link

...But good old Franklin came every day afterwards, and made the fire mornings, and stayed round, and I called in Oliver, who dined with Franklin and stayed afterwards to help him wash up. ’Twas a sight to see the two old darkies clumsily puttering away with the mops and towels. Oh! those mornings! to wake up in doubt of any help — cold as Greenland — my bath at six, — then down to a cold kitchen, the faithful Franklin appearing just as I gave him up, — then making myself the coffee, sweeping the red room, in a royal clutter, with Phil., his cigarettes, the constant fire, newspapers all scattered round, — set the table, back to kitchen to fry sausages and potatoes and make toast, boil milk, skim the cream, put away the milk, keep neat the refrigerator, fetch Phil.’s waterpail, and cheer him in bed with news from the front... To Miss Lucretia P. Hale / Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 2, 1893 284 : link

Such a delicious drive, and you with me (unawares) through country roads, and every tree just flushed with sheen, the first minute of real spring-time, poplars and willows and oaks and sycamores and maples with hanging things, and ladies stepping out of green fields with great bunches of red flowers, and a river with clear water sparkling over stones, and the earth smelling newly ploughed, and the lawn-cutters making hay smells, and the Golf Club, and caddies caddying and putters puttering and toads toadying and Dukes and Princes and Counts counting, and the Grand Duke of Russia and sa femme in a carriage, and the blue sea sparkling, and the Jardin Publique with music, and little boys drawn in carts, and donkeys with side-saddles, and English women holding up their petticoats to the skin, and fish shining in the fish-markets, and small boats everywhere, and Britannia ruling the waves. Hurry up and come before it is all gone by. To Mrs. William G. Weld / Cannes, March 24, 1897 315 : link

all ex Susan Hale, Letters of. Edited by Caroline P. Atkinson; introduction by Edward E. Hale. (Boston, 1919) LC copy (among others) at hathitrust link

note, and observation

144 this would be Susan Hale, her Self-instructive lessons in painting with oil and water-colors : on silk, satin, velvet and other fabrics : including lustra painting and the use of other mediums (Boston: S. W. Tilton Co., 1885) : link (Getty copy) same, via archive.org : link Introduction : Art and Taste...

a search for “puttering” + “author:hale” was prompted by a Library of America announcement — “Wickedly Smart”: Honoring Nancy Hale at 115 — of the imminent republication of two Hale titles — The Prodigal Women (1942) and Where the Light Falls (a collection of short fiction). Hale, winner of ten O. Henry Awards and a frequent contributor to The New Yorker — I’d never heard of her; but it may have been something about the name...

Nancy Hale (1908-1988) wikipedia : link daughter of Philip Leslie Hale (1865-1931) and Lilian Westcott Hale (1880-1963), both painters — he once engaged with Ethel Reed (1874-1912 *) — and both honored with their repective wikipedia pages : link and link and he (Philip Leslie) the son of Edward Everett Hale (1822-1909), author, historian and Unitarian Minister wikipedia : link

and Susan?

Susan Hale (1833-1910) was author, traveler, artist, and Edward Everett’s sister, keeper of his summer house in Matunuck, Rhode Island. wikipedia : link

I don’t know what to make or do with any of this, but will look further into Nancy Hale, and think about this accomplished-cum-privileged white Boston Brahmin-ean family, and Edward Everett’s erased-by-the-family relationship with Harriet Elizabeth Freeman (1847-1930), a remarkable botanist/geologist/conservationist in her own right wikipedia : link

an overall sense of the Hale family can be gotten from the finding aid to the Hale Family Papers (1797-1988), held at Smith College : SSC-MS-00071 : link

#1919 #Susan Hale #prodigalities

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pobopolybius · 3 years ago

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you. give me your lobcorp/lor hcs. now 🔫

[spoiler warning for major endgame events in Ruina and LC]

God I have so many I put them under the cut since I wrote way more than I thought I would LMFAO

Enoch and Lisa weren't the only ones who had different hair colours before death, Gabriel, Daniel, and Giovanni all had different hair before death. Gabriel's hair was a dark brown that was almost black, Giovanni's was a lighter shade of brown, and Daniel's was a brown ginger

Ayin had the best handwriting out of everyone, a simple print that looked almost mechanical, while Binah's, while a ridiculously fancy cursive, was nearly illegible. Carmen's handwriting was the definition of chicken scratch

When he went to the library, Argalia briefly got his pen back. He found it laying on the ground of the Kether floor

Chesed is scared of birds. Just in general. He loves them from afar and tends to admire them, but if the smallest parakeet gets near him he shuts down. Something to do with a facility breach

Roland is canonically the best cook, and I think Angela would be a close second since he tries his best to teach her as a way to enjoy food despite not being able to eat :) Malkuth and Hod are amazing at making pastries, and Tiphereth loves decorating whatever sweets they make

Netzach grew to have a bit of a crush on Angela after everything with the library happened and they all got sent to the outskirts. He thinks she's funny and loves talking to her. Constantly tries to find excuses to spend time with her and Roland

Angela is a trans man :)

Gebura, despite her massive mane of a hair, tends to be the one who helps everyone with haircuts. Gebura is the only one allowed to touch Tiphereth's hair since she is good at making braids. Netzach is also good with hair though, so whenever Gebura is busy, he's there to help in her place

Tiphereth also eventually warmed up a little more to Roland, and, on occasion, lets him braid her hair as well. Though it's nice, Roland does feel immensely upset when he does that, since it reminds him of a future he never got to have.

Daniel and Gabriel used to date, once Chesed and Yesod remembered their pasts, the two grew flustered when it came to being around each other

Angela, Yesod, and Binah tend to play mind games together, Roland gets dragged into their shenanigans sometimes. He never wins

Gebura started to drink tea with Binah to spite Chesed. He still refuses to give up on making her like coffee

Roland is good at singing! Chesed and Hod as well

Malkuth always signs her messages off with kaomojis

Malkuth and Yesod are best friends

Emma and Noah were married

Chesed, Yesod, Binah, and Malkuth are all brazilian or half brazilian

Moirai is genderless. Moirai doesn't use pronouns or anything like that, Moirai just exists

Philip, before everything went to shit, wrote poetry as a hobby. Coincidentally, most had religious undertones

Jae-heon was interested in theology, he enjoys it when Pluto talks about it, and lets Eileen talk about the Church of Gears

Before they started dating, Merry always showed up at Tommy's flower shop. He caught feelings for her at first sight, and started gifting her flowers with little cards that had the meaning of said flower on them

Pierre's first kill were her parents, she made a little lemonade stand-esque shop in front of her house to sell what she made, and a chef in District 23 took her in due to her potential

Binah is a cat person, they love cats, but never really bring it up

Angela still has occasional emotional outbursts, the same with Roland, due to remembering their pasts. The two are always there to comfort the other though, and are sure to never leave each other's side unless the other needs some alone time to breathe

Hokma is good at painting, he loves impressionism, however, when it comes to his own works, he always takes a approach that could be classified as tenebrism, since he enjoys painting abnormalities. He does occasionally paint the other sephirah, as well as Ayin, often.

Tiphereth is really good at sowing dresses, she uses Roland as a mannequin for them

Kali was heads over heels for Carmen, Carmen brought out her kindness she thought she lost when she became a colour fixer

Aside from Roland himself, there is nothing that Angelica loved more than Roland's cooking

Angelica is taller than Roland by quite a bit, being the same height as Argalia. It makes Roland melt every time she stands next to him

Iori and Ayin knew each other

Tanya and Greta are really close. At first Tanya found Greta too loud and a bit annoying, but she is now fond of her somewhat. Greta thinks she is really cool and has a bit of a crush on her

Elena and Angelica are exes

When Hod first saw Greta, while disliking her, she also had to tell herself not to let her awaken anything in her

Chesed constantly invites Yesod over for coffee, and the two tend to ramble about their mutual interests in science often

Chesed is actually very good with technology, and likes to make little gadgets and trinkets with the stuff he finds on Yesod's floor

Benjamin and Ayin are teenage year friends, they became inseparable from the moment they met. Benjamin kissed his cheek to say bye once before heading out, and Ayin went quiet for the rest of that full day

Ayin originally considered becoming a fixer. Before the corporation grew to be the head of the district, he worked part time as one. He was a fairly high grade, but nothing too insane.

Gebura treats Nothing There like her pet dog

Ayin, Benjamin, and Carmen all lived together. They all slept on the same bed, and they almost had to kick Carmen out of the bed since she would roll around in her sleep a lot. (They didn't, they are nowhere near that mean)

Most of the librarians are polyam, save for Hokma (obviously talking about the adults here Tiph is like 12)

Also they are all trans

I'd write way more but I will spare you for now! These are just a few of the ones that come to mind :]

#library of ruina #lobotomy corporation #projmoon #project moon #headcanons #roland #chesed #binah #hokma #gebura #tiphereth #yesod #netzach #hod #malkuth #Angela #Ayin #Argalia #Philip

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