#light purple is much cooler than gray

[agumonger]

If Lui got a Smartphone Digivice somehow, I like to think it'd look a bit like this.

[blimpintime]

jar of wind part three

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, light gore, unedited

word count: 2.1k

eventual eris x oc

The wind helps me reach The Night Court in record time even though it was fighting me the entire way, my satchel holds mine and Eris’s gift for Nyx. A stuffed fox and a hand-crafted wooden play tea set. The weather when I get here is cooler than it was when I left, which makes sense considering Summer has come to an end. However, something seems off in the air and I can’t place what it is. Shrugging my shoulders and letting out the breath I was holding, I just blamed it on the nerves of being back here. 

When I finally get to the River House I notice some slight changes; like the wind chimes I had placed had been taken down or the sun catchers that were hanging are now lying in the dirt half haphazardly covered in soil. I roll my eyes and sigh. I grip my satchel a little tighter and fold my glowing wings behind my back. My pink glow has turned into a warm purple matching the sunset in the sky that is covering Velaris.

A sinking feeling coats me when I am about to knock on the door, hearing sounds of laughter and excitement escape through the small cracks of the door. I suddenly wish Eris was with me but shake off the thought. He is a High Lord now, he has more important things to worry about than you. I think to myself. My hand was hovering over the door for an awkward amount of time before I just decided to rip off the bandage and knock. 

A breath releases from me when it is Elain who answers the door and not someone else. Her face brightens with a huge grin and she practically tackles me with a hug. 

“Wynn!” She shouts, and I am wondering if she has had just a little bit to drink. I grin back and say her name in a quieter tone. 

She pulls me into the warm house, her pale pink dress fluttering around her as she moves. She was always so naturally welcoming to me. When she had first discovered me lying in the sun on one of her flowers she almost had a heart attack but quickly after that, we became close friends. I doubt I would have met the rest of the inner circle if it weren’t for Elain. So maybe that’s why I always felt like an imposter here. 

“You and I have so much to catch up on!” She tells me. I shoot her back a grin.

“As if we weren’t sending letters back and forth weekly?” I say with a teasing smile. 

“It is simply not the same, I must see your reaction.” She responds in a whisper as though she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Ahh. I understand.” I whisper back in the same joking tone. We arrived where everyone else had been sitting and a silence went over the room. I internally wince at the awkwardness, but luckily it does not last long when Feyre and Nesta stand to greet me. 

“Wynnie Lara!” Nesta says she and Feyre pull me into a hug, Nesta in a gray dress and Feyre in a dark blue one. I look over their shoulder to see Azriel avoiding eye contact with where we are standing, and Cassian and Rhys both have guilty smiles on their faces. It seems I arrived a little too late and Nyx was put to sleep already. 

When the sisters pull away from their hug I am left there standing awkwardly with Elain hanging off of my shoulder. She’s keeping my body warm and relaxed even though I would rather be anywhere else right now. 

Rhys clears his throat, “Wynn I want to apologize for how things were left the last time you were here.” I give a stiff nod in acknowledgment before saying,

“Is that really how you feel or is that what your wife told you to say?” and the room responds in a thick silence. “Because I do not think I can trust any words that leave your mouth High Lord.” 

He gives a wince, “I deserve that.” Nesta coughs and takes a sip of her drink muttering something under her breath. 

“Did you come here to throw a pity party or did you come here to celebrate?” Azriel butts in as if he is bored of this whole show.

“I don’t know Azriel, what poor girl do you have feeding your hero complex to make you so relaxed?” I bite back. “Just a forewarning, she probably won’t stick around once she realizes how much of a little bitch you are.” He stands up abruptly and Rhys raises his hand as a warning and someone snorts in the background. 

“Wynn,” Rhys says shocked. I look at him and my glow turns pink and I mutter out a weak, “Sorry.” I’m not. 

“I actually do have a gift for little Nyx,” I say and reach into my satchel. Elain’s face is still tucked into my neck, and she whispers “You smell like clove and nutmeg.” 

I grin a little knowing that is the Autumn Courts doing, and my mood goes melancholy when I realize I miss it. When I pull out the little toys, Feyre’s face lights up and before she walks over Rhys puts a hand out in front of her to stop her. 

“Wynn.” He says, “Where were you for the past few months?” He asks although I suspect he already knows the answer.

“Home, High Lord,” I respond sharply.  “The Autumn Court. Eris sends his regards.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azriel shouts out. “You’re a traitor Wynnie Lara.” I roll my eyes. 

“Oh to the Mother. No, I am not.” I breathe before continuing, “If any of you actually took the time to get to know me, you would have already known that is where I am from. I mean the girls already knew and to be honest the only one who has a right to be upset is Mor and she is not.” I take notice that Mor was not here which was weird considering it was Nyx’s birthday but that tells me she is probably on an important mission. 

“My kind also has a tragic backstory, just like you guys. My people, my species were hunted for sport centuries ago. Humans, fae, it didn’t matter it was a game. So when it was eventually outlawed across Prythian we had already borderline gone extinct.” I say with a shaking voice. I look to see horror across everyone’s face and it fills me with some sick satisfaction that they regret how they’ve been treating me.

“Wynn-” Elain starts but I pat her hand to let me continue. 

“The worst time though, was not the hunting. No, it was Amarantha. Yes I know I was stuck in a jar. But I watched her terrorize the rest of my people for fun, ripping them in half and plucking their wings off their backs as if they were nothing but gnats. All I have seen for my kind is gruesome bloodshed.” I have tears streaming down my face as I continue. 

“The only one to ever show me kindness during all of that was Eris. That is because he and I grew up together. When I found the Autumn Court there was a children’s shelter that I made my home for years. He and I found each other in the woods in our youth, he was the one to break me out of that damn jar when everything was over. Without him, I would have been stuck in the jar or worse.

Because of his father’s cruel reign, once I was healed enough Eris sent me here for sanctuary. I did not know any of you really besides Feyre and that was only because she was the Cursebreaker.” I managed to get out. Elain wrapped me up in her arms whispering words of encouragement while swaying us both. Feyre had tears streaming down her face. Nesta had a hand covering her mouth in dread and Cassian rubbing her back with the same grim look on his face.

Azriel is wrapped in shame and Rhysand looks horrified. He stands up and walks towards me, gently takes the gifts out of my hands, and offers me a hug. And for a moment I don’t return it, but when I do, I feel a weight taken off my shoulders. 

“Wynn if we would have known.” Rhys starts but I interrupt. 

“You would have what? Treated me better? Do I not just deserve your kindness as is? Or do people have to have some sort of traumatic backstory to earn your respect?” I clear my throat and nose once I pull back, “I did not tell you guys that to pity me, I am telling you because just because I am kind and small does not mean I am weak or some pushover. If you do not want me here that’s fine I will leave. But do not take whatever feelings you are struggling with, out on me.” I make it a point to hold eye contact with Azriel for that last part. 

“I think we all owe you a huge apology for how you have been treated since arriving in Velaris. This city was built to be and stay a sanctuary, so the fact that you have been behaved towards so unfairly is embarrassing, to say the least.” Rhysand says standing sternly next to me.

“I am sorry the most. I have no real reason to have treated you the way I have.” Azriel speaks softly.  “Please forgive me.” I look at him and give him a once-over. He is slouching in the chair he is sitting in, hands rubbing his face as the shadows around him twirl. 

“I do forgive you but I do not think I could ever trust you,” I respond in the same tone, he winces and nods. Everyone gives their condolences to me, even Elain but I think that’s because she is tipsy and her emotions are just heightened. 

After the tense moment is over I let the group know that I will be leaving. The three sisters all looked shocked. 

“I really do wish I could stay longer but I have work to do back in Autumn, plus something is wrong. Or is about to be wrong, I am not sure.” I say with a furrow of my brows grabbing my arms and wrapping them around myself.  My wings glow and twitch as I think about the shifting of the wind. And my hue finally changes back to its normal orange-pink. 

“What do you mean?” Cassian finally speaks up with a questioning look on his face. 

“I have a hard time trying to describe it in words, but I am connected to the wind as you all know. And it’s shifting weirdly and in abnormal patterns. I can normally predict how the weather is going to be based on it and I have been wrong little to none because of being able to read the wind. Recently though it is like I have never interacted with the wind at all.” I utter all at once. 

“I am not sure though. I have to get back to my research and experiments to figure more out. Once I do, I will make sure to write.” I let out with a soft smile.

I am sensing because of the heavy conversation and the lateness of the evening that the party is over. I give my goodbyes, hug Elain, and make sure she will still write to me weekly.  With that, I take off back into the night sky and head home. 

While gliding through the air I had almost reached the Autumn Court when the wind around me went frigid and midflight I dropped towards the ground. Once my wings regain their sense of balance I spin in the sky looking for a threat, and as expected I come up empty. As I am about to continue my flight home a hard spike goes through my left hand. A yelp leaves my throat and I look to see an arrow, piercing my hand. I yell as I start to fall, my wings having a hard time opening. I get shot with another arrow through my right thigh, I let an agonizing scream out and close my eyes once I hit the cold ground with a hard thud. 

Bleary-eyed trying to stand I feel warm blood coming out of my hand and leg, I see a figure walking towards me and I try to crawl away leaving a trail of fresh blood following me, “No, leave me alone.” I grunt out. Once they reach me I pray to the Mother that my death be swift, and then it goes dark. 

a/n: soooooo what did yall think?

i do not own any of sarah j mass's characters.

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor @fatimam6 @lees-chaotic-brain @love-bookprincess @paleidiot @slytherintaco @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1 @esposadomd

[melishade]

It has been done!

I really enjoyed making these, especially Megatron!

I decided that Megatron has a man bun, because… idk, he seems like the type. I only gave him partially gray hair because he is technically supposed to be younger than Optimus (so weird…) but I think it’s fun that his years of stress and adding dark energon just made him gray faster in terms of human translation since he’s literally gray. I honestly adore the fact I gave him an aquiline nose, similar to in IDW comics, I also did similar stylization with the two-triangles shading.

The scars looked more red and raw than I intended, but honestly it looks metal (heh) so I don’t mind too much.

When you were talking about how hard it is to nail Optimus’s holoform… you weren’t joking. I got his hair down pretty easily, I figured he’d want it short and styled back for convenience. I originally wanted to make him ginger but went with what you intended for him, so I just made his hair a reddish-brown instead (the warm lighting more than compensates for it, and I honestly find it cool that his hair just looks bright, firey red in golden hour/sunlight!)

I had to change Opti’s colors so much, but I’m satisfied with his desaturated red jean jacket. I leaned more towards brown, I’m sure it used to be brighter, but working the the Corps gets you dirty and I think he’d appreciate the look of earthy tones (plus, I think kids and people in general like the more familiar and warm palette than the bright red, idk)

I’m rambling a lot but I did want to put as much thought as I could into these bc 1) I adore the concept of holoforms and wished they were used more and 2) Megatron/Mathew is my fav, so…

Just as a last note: if you look at the eyes of both characters, Megs has a triangle purple highlight and two small, blue dot highlights while Optimus has a yellow square highlight and two red dot highlights (they aren’t super visible but it’s the thought that counts 😅)

Thank you for your wonderful work and make sure to take care of yourself!

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!

Second, yes, it is so wild to me that Optimus is actually older than Megatron, because according to the covenant of Primus and the Aligned continuity, Optimus was reborn as Orion immediately after the War of the Primes. Meanwhile Megatron was actually born during the Age of Wrath.

Optimus looks so pretty, but his smile also looks so sad. He's hiding his burdens and traumas with a smile! Look at the fluffy hem of his coat! It looks so cozy! Also, I really like the shading for Optimus because it looks like the sun is setting behind him. The shading of his hair looks so gorgeous!

Hehe. Looking at Megatron's hoodie, all I can think about is how Megatron who put the hood over his head and sulk when he's upset. And I absolutely adore the different colors that both he and Optimus have. Like you brought up the fact that Optimus has warmer colors and even with the sun shing behind Megatron, you can tell that there are cooler colors being used. Like I can see hints of purple in Megatron's hair.

I actually did zoom in to see the eye coloring that you were doing and I absolutely adore it for both Optimus and Megatron.

Honestly this is so amazing and thank you so much for taking time to do this. I genuinely appreciate it.

[thedujifuji]

I did a Color Analysis on the Outfits of the Doctor for a class

Okay first I want to preface this with a: I haven’t finished Classic Who, nor watched a whole lot of it, but wanted to include it in this analysis, neither have I fully completed 13′s run, but also wanted to include her. I adore her final outfit, but it feels much more like a compilation of references to other Doctors at the last minute than a deliberate choice made with Color Theory in mind. She really got cheated out of a lot on her run, and it makes me upset, because she deserved better. I hope this is taken with heaps of salt, I just wanted to write about Who for class.

Okay here we go:

For live Action TV Shows, I struggled, as I don't really watch that much live-action TV, as I find them boring. The exception to this rule is of course: Doctor Who.

Doctor Who is an interesting case, as Classic Who (60's-late 80's, includes TV movie from mid-90's) and New Who (2005-present) use color, and more specifically, the Doctor's color scheme in very specific and different ways, that are still relatively controversial in discussion online. Doctor Who actually began in black and white, airing on the same day JFK was assassinated. Eventually, the actor who portrayed the Doctor, William Hartnell, had to retire due to health complications, so they brought in a new actor to portray the Doctor, starting a new pattern of "regenerating" the Doctor when an actor wanted to quit the role.

While the first two Doctors were entirely in Black and White, Jon Pertwee, the Third Doctor, saw the series shift into color. His outfits reflected this, shifting from a black and white normal suit into velvety maroon suits, or even a normal suit, with a bright red cape to accentuate him. As Doctor Who had originated in Black and White, the designs for enemy aliens had a tendency to be achromatic, grey and dull- Classic Doctors incorporated warm muddy hues to contrast this wildly. This is also explained in-universe, as the 3rd Doctor is the incarnation that is forced to live exclusively on Earth, and is influenced by Earth's vibrancy for his outfits. Every subsequent classic Doctor has some sort of warmth in their outfits, as pictured in the previous poster, which contrast wildly with the lifeless grays of Daleks and Cybermen. The Sixth Doctor and his companion are pictured below alongside a Dalek and a Dalek control console, showing how alien those from our world appear.

We can additionally see how alien the Doctor looks in the TARDIS after having been influenced by Earth.

There is a clear shift however, by the time of New Who.

New Who's Doctors have a tendency to stick to cooler color palettes, making THEM seem alien. There are exceptions to this, namely the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, but they will be talked about later. The colors I would associate most with New Who would be Brown and Green. Christopher Eccleston's 9th Doctor is very rude, and a bit eccentric, battered from a war in space, he has long lost the whimsical earthy tones that were so present in Classic Who, instead sporting a black leather jacket and a purple shirt, very often seen in green or cool lighting.

The 9th Doctor falls in love with his earth companion Rose Tyler, and in regenerating, is born of that love for humanity. The Tenth Doctor, played by the beloved David Tennant, is a stark contrast from the 9th Doctor, dressing in vibrant pinstripe brown suits. This continues to be the case until he is separated from Rose, after which he dons a blue suit, cool colors returning to signify that he is once again alienating himself from humanity. As he begins to heal, he dons his old brown overcoat over his blue suit, showing he is again allowing his humanity to resurface.

The Eleventh Doctor, played by Matt Smith, dresses in brown, earthy tones, as he's very connected and loving towards Earth and his companions, but after facing dramatic loss, shifts towards wearing cooler tones, namely a purple suit. His outfits are seen in the opposite order of appearance. (Right to Left)

Now for my favorite: Peter Capaldi's 12th Doctor! Capaldi's Doctor is much more like the initial Doctors, feeling very, VERY alien, compared to the almost human 11th Doctor. This is demonstrated in his first outfit, a cool dark blue suit. This suit comes with a catch however, flaunting bright red interiors, signifying a truth about the 12th Doctor, he has soul and empathy within, he's still learning how to show it. The series makes special attempts to have the red inlet be visible in scenes where Capaldi gets to show his emotions.

As 12 grows into learning better empathy through his companion Clara, and following a reunion with his wife River Song, Capaldi's Doctor starts to wear a vibrant Magenta/Red suit, signifying a massive change in his character- upfront, honest kindness.

After facing more massive loss, and being on the brink of regeneration, Capaldi's Doctor's new black suit is revealed once again to have a bright red interior in his final scenes, and he is deliberately lit up in oranges and yellows, not from his regeneration energy, but from lighting inside the TARDIS.

Unfortunately, the following Doctor, Jodie Whittakher's 13, does not shift outfits throughout her seasons, instead opting for cooler tones despite being much like 11 or 10. This may be to emphasize her alien-ness despite her warm-hued TARDIS, but to me, it doesn't feel as intentional as before, instead feeling like another way Jodie was given the short end of the stick in regards to Who. Jodie's 13th Doctor deserved outfit theming!!

[cyrsed]

how do you get your colors in your art to look so good?

gonna resist the urge to say my colors aren't that great, and i'm gonna try and think about how i do color seriously.... also thank you for the compliment! i've always felt like i struggle with color but maybe i can still be helpful :B if this stuff is all super basic, apologies in advance

ig i already love bright colors, especially warm colors, but i feel like a lot of making visual art is bringing out the contrasts between colors, light and dark, textures, movement, saturation, curves and straight lines, etc., so that just means i usually try to think about the relationships between the colors a little more than the colors individually.

i also don't usually start with a solid color palette defined beforehand. i usually know the basic colors i want, but i don't typically choose them before i start bc that's too rigid for me, and i want to be able to adjust things or throw things out without worrying that i'm messing up the balance of a palette i already committed to.

so for this one

i used a lot of warm colors bc i loove earthy yellows and oranges, but i think it can make colors feel more vibrant if they're next to colors that contrast w/ it (warm and cool, or complementary colors).

the "gray" metal parts of the picture like the shelf stile coming down vertically, and the jar lids behind it, are green to contrast w the oranges and reds in particular, and there's some blue popping up in the zombie head and the shadows on the bottom shelf for the same reason, altho the blue is a touch on the greener, cooler side of blue (as opposed to the purpler, warmer side).

usually if i use a color in one place, i try to pull it into the rest of the picture for better balance unless maybe if it's the focal point. so i'm doing that with the blue, and the orange stickers to spread the bright orange from that big jar around more.

also i don't usually use straight gray/white/black, 99.9% of the time i'll use something tinted like that green metal stile, or the pinkish gray in the jar on the far right.

same here: it's mostly green and red bc i like that combo & they're complementary, but i did try to pull a little blue in as well through the shadows on the right ribcage and that one mystery organ under the green intestine, nd in the back of the leg.

that being said tho, it's not really "blue", it's more like nearly gray-purple that looks blue bc it's next to such bright warm colors. that's the magic of gray lol, it's very useful bc it's easy to make it look as if it's warm/cool depending on what colors it's surrounded with.

ig color for me is mostly about color relationships and saturation... the gray can look like blue if it needs to, and it can make the colors next to it look even more vibrant so the skin of this necromorph dude looks sickly and dead but the organs look pretty lively.

when i shade something i always try to use a color that's at least a little bit different from whatever the base color is. so in this case the base color was that kind of pale orange and the orange-ish gray, but the shadows are both super saturated & one is leaning more toward a sienna/orange (on the left side of the pic on the arm and ribs) and the other one is leaning a lil more toward a berry purple/red & i think that usually adds some nice depth to the color. also don't be afraid to add reeeally dark darks and really light lights, but imo the darks give colors the most life by contrast.

since this was a limited palette & not that detailed, i didn't worry about pulling that aquamarine anywhere else.

other than that, i just try to be bold with colors, and go for something exciting & not worry too much about whether it looks naturalistic. plus there's tons of colors you can pull out from regular objects/lighting/whatever else. this isn't specific to color, but the other thing i try to do is practice seeing what colors/forms are really there, not what i expect to be there.

a super basic example would be if i want to draw a banana, i don't want to just automatically reach for yellow bc bananas are yellow, i want to either look closely at the real banana i want to draw, and really try to see what colors are really there (which can be surprising tbqh), or if i'm not actually looking at a real one, then just try to pull in more color for the fun of it, like shading it with purple or blue maybe idk go nutso!

tl;dr i think i usually try to keep in mind

warm/cool color balance

complementary colors (altho tbh you can make any color combo look good, esp if you mess with warm/cool balance)

saturation (i keep a lot of things saturated, but also the contrast between saturation/desaturation can make the colors look more intense)

light and dark contrast

using tinted grays to imply a warmer/cooler color that contrasts with the main palette

color depth (shading with cooler and/or warmer variations of similar colors)

go nutso

[lokittystuckinatree]

It’s my birthday, Pride is half over, and the Sylki fandom is half dead.

Here’s a useless meta proving Sylvie and Loki are closer to an Andrew Garfield vs. Tom Holland Spider-Man situation than “GeNdErBeNt SeLFcEsT”

🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛🐍🐈‍⬛

When Sylvie was introduced, all Loki variants presented so far resembled Tom Hiddleston. By episode five, we know the vast majority of Loki variants are not Tom Hiddleston clones, (like a Spider-Man, a Loki could be anybody,) so Sylvie likely isn’t his clone either. However, since they’re played by different actors, with vaguely similar facial features, it could still be argued that perhaps Loki and Sylvie are the same individual, just the “other sex.” (Insert iconic Loki eye roll). Today I’m demonstrating why that argument is stupid.

Skin ~ Loki’s skin tone is consistently cooler and paler than Sylvie’s, as demonstrated by earlier films. His skin is more neutral and saturated in the series, a decision by Tom Hiddleston to make Loki seem more alive and tangibly real. Still, his typical skin tone is best described as a creamy ghostly porcelain, whereas Sylvie’s is a light rosy beige. Sylvie has a rougher, less polished, more ‘human’ look, whereas sacred timeline Loki sometimes verges on the ethereal. These skin details suit their characters well.

Tom and Sophia filming season two

Note: Sylvie’s skin seems slightly tanned in this image, while Loki looks as deathly pale as he did in the movies. Likely a difference in lighting, but I think it does a good job showing how different the two characters can look at a glance.

Hair ~ this is the strongest argument. Loki’s natural hair color is visibly darker and deeper than Sylvie’s natural hair color. Loki’s hair is raven black, and Sylvie’s hair is dark brown. Sylvie dyes her hair a muted ash blonde.

Loki and Sylvie side by side.

This hair color difference is suspiciously intentional, and even carries over from final concept art, official merch, and their child actors. Baby Sylvie’s hair is dark ash/golden brown in better lighting. Baby Loki’s hair is always raven black.

Baby Sylki. (Look at these little squishies I want to boop their noses!)

The two variants also have noticeably different hair textures. Loki’s natural curl pattern seems messier and tighter than Sylvie’s fluffy waves, even with too much greasy hair product.

Contrast ~ Sophia and Tom’s eyes are similar shades of blue. Less is certain about the in character eye colors of Loki and Sylvie. The fandom is not in agreement whether Loki’s (and Sylvie’s) eyes are blue or green, so I tend to compromise on blue-green. Tom’s eyes appear slightly lighter than Sophia’s, so I headcanon that Loki’s eyes are lighter than Sylvie’s too. Combined with their hair and skin tone differences, Sylvie has a lower, softer, more muted contrast between her hair, skin, and eyes, compared to Loki, with their higher, clearer and more striking contrast.

Color Season Analysis ~ Going off of that, and taking this next part with a grain of salt, as I am in no way an expert on color analysis, I would guess Loki is a winter, and Sylvie is a summer. Sylvie could be a spring, but from what I’ve seen, her hair is more ashen than yellow, and it makes sense Sylvie would lean cooler then warmer since she, as a former Loki variant, is a frost giant.

Summers typically look best in sunny pastel colors, whereas Winters look best in jewel tones. Sure enough, when Loki and Sylvie venture outside their classic green, black, and gold, the costume department decided to dress Loki in deep jewel tones such as blue and purple (the guard turtleneck, some of their costumes in Ragnarok.)

Another costume department chose to put Sylvie in subtle pastels (her tie die shirt.)

Typically, cool seasons look better in silver (grey) than than gold (yellow). Coincidentally, Loki and Sylvie are both wearing gray in the pictures above. Obviously, Lokis are to gold as goths are to black. However, few people fit a color season perfectly (I’m ironically a winter in the winter and a summer in the summer,) Sylvie and Loki have fairly neutral pigmentation, and saying a Loki wouldn’t look good in gold is blasphemy.

In Summary ~ Sylki are not genderbent clones, they’re not identical twins, and though it’s near certain they don’t share much dna at all, because this is not Game of Thrones, the closest they could physically be is full siblings, and while it would be questionable, your siblings aren’t you, so it wouldn’t be selfcest.

If the multiverse was a cinematic universe, Loki and Sylvie would be two different actors playing two different adaptations of the same character by two different studios, at most. Loki and Sylvie have different personalities, different experiences, different bodies, and different lives. Honestly, they’ve lived such different lives, with Sylvie breaking away from her sacred timeline and Loki identity so young that she’s a different gender and mostly based on Sylvie Lushton, that they are possibly less the same character than any of the Spider Men variants, from Spiderverse through MCU. Likely, all the two share is a mind, heart, and soul. To me, that’s beautiful.

⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️💚⚔️

[fashionstudies-blog]

5 Ways to Dress Classy and Elegant

1. Wear the right fit

For petite women: stick to classic cuts and silhouettes because they make you appear taller and leaner – no mini skirts or shoulder pads!

For curvy women: stay away from too-tight dresses, but wear belts and belted jackets to show off your waist – this helps define your curves without being too over the top.

For plus-sized women: Don long, full skirts and buckle belts to balance your body. Basically, belt them big and wear them big!

2. Choose the right colours

Decide which color family you want to emphasize. Reds and oranges can help you look more vibrant. For a serene look, focus on cooler colors like blues and greens.

Red can be hard to pull off (especially if it clashes with your skin tone). Avoid wearing it with white or black if you don’t want to look like a traffic light! Wear red, but pair it with soft colors like pinks, oranges, purples, and yellows – these colors complement each other.

Neutral colors, like black, white, beige, brown, etc., look good together if they are different shades or textures. Your clothes shouldn’t blend together – you want to stand out.

Shades of gray, black, and navy blue can give off a professional vibe. For something more casual, olive green, light pink, and beige can all work well.

For classy plus-size women, the same rules apply, but be careful because darker colors can make you appear bigger than you actually are. Instead of wearing full brown or black dresses, wear black with muted tans and reds – they’ll brighten you up.

3. Wear the right materials

A good rule of thumb is to avoid shiny or flashy fabrics. Cashmere, wool, velvet, or silk are good safe bets, but you can also pick matte jerseys and cotton.

Make sure the color and style of the dress fit the occasion. For example, wool is a great material for a winter suit because it keeps you warm. Cotton is perfect for a summer shirt because it’s breathable. Likewise, silk has a luxurious feel, making it ideal for evening gowns and dress shirts.

Cheap dresses often use polyester and rayon, which are unbreathable. As with lycra, it’s stretchy and tacky. So, we recommend sticking to natural fibers.

4. Examples of classy outfits

Tops: If you want to dress simple but stylishly, pick a floral print blouse or a crisp button-down shirt. Button-up blouses or those with a tie, silk tops, simple tees, or anything that fits well can make you look cute and put together. Try lace or ruffles to add some femininity.

Bottoms:

A pair of jeans or trousers look great when opting for a classy but casual look.

Below-the-knee A-line or pencil skirts look chic with a blouse or button-down shirt.

Tapered pants look great with a nice blouse or blazer for a formal ensemble, as well as with a tank top or t-shirt for an everyday look.

Ankle pants flatter all body types and are versatile for both work and play.

Dresses: A little black dress is always an effortless option for classy dresses, as is a well-fitting shift or shirt dress. A-line, wrap, and sheath dresses are chic clothing styles that look great at any event.

5. Wear classic accessories

Wristwatches: Looking at your wrist is a much classier way to keep track of time while you’re out in a meeting or on a date.

Handbags:��Consider the purpose. For carrying all of your stuff, choose a big satchel or tote. Something more formal? Try a clutch or small handbag.

Sunglasses: A summer must-have! Pick simple, understated designs without too much detail or embellishment. A good pair of cat-eye or tortoise-shell sunglasses looks elegant in natural colors. To spruce up your look, pick a frame in a neutral color like navy or gray.

Jewelry: You don’t have to buy Tiffany & Co. jewelry to look elegant – know what pieces to wear at what times. Go for one statement neckpiece and avoid layering heavy jewelry. For earrings, go for statement earrings or simple silver, pearl, gold, or diamond studs. Don’t be afraid of timeless pieces like rose gold bracelets.

[joyandeggs]

For the unusual ask 46, 63, 64, 69, 76, 82, 98

What's your go to hair style?

Oh, I can't do a thig to my hair to style it. 😭😭😭 Too thick, long, and frizzy. It's unmanageable. I either leave it down, or, if it's bothering me and in my face, put it up in a bun. I really wish I could braid it, or do something with it...

Do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

I haven't had either of those in a super long time, but I grew up on McDonalds chicken nuggets. I have a childhood bias with them. (It's weird, I get huge cravings for McDonalds nuggets and fries, or their breakfast and hasbrowns still to this day. I just dont get fast food as much anymore since trying to eat better.)

Favorite dipping sauce? 

Either ketchup or ranch, depending on what's being dipped, and my mood. I don't dip much stuff in sauce anymore, I'll just pour it on certain foods.

Do you play an instrument?

No. 😓 Sadly. I'm not great with instruments.

What color looks best on you? 

I feel like grays look really nice on me, either a light silvery gray or a medium to dark gray. Especially the heather gray material, I love it so much. And green!! From olive green to hunter green. I've been told that white and purple look good with my skintone? Not sure about those though. Not sure about pink either, even though it's my favorite color.

Favorite ice cream flavor? 

Gosh, there's this Rebel ice cream that's vanilla bean and it is so good. If I'm craving chocolate, than I'm buying the triple chocolate from that brand. It is the best ice cream ever. (Lactose free!!! 😭)

Favorite month? 

I would have to say October, for sure. Even though the weather is still warm and trying to figure out if it wants to be cooler or not, I love the changing of the colors in nature, and it never fails to bring me comfort in my favorite time of year. That's when all of the best holidays come around!! It's just such a nice month, I love it. It's also the month my husband and I started dating, and got married!

[artificialqueens]

🎁 And It's a Potion (Lady Camden x Bosco) for Puppy - Athena2

SECRET QUEEN 2022 by @buffyathena

Summary: Bosco works at a magic shop, and must track down her crush, Camden, after accidentally selling her a love potion.

A/N: I was so excited to do secret Santa and write this!! Thank you so much to Writ for helping me come with ideas and for beta-ing this, I seriously couldn't have done it without you. Puppy, I really hope you enjoy this, and have a great holiday!

(Title from Potion by Dua Lipa)

Inventory is never a fun day for Bosco over at Jinkx’s shop, and they have to do it twice a week. The bulk of what they sell is potions, which Jinkx brews themself, and which have a tendency to go haywire after more than a few days—hence the constant inventory of new ones. Jinkx had a never-ending supply of stories about things that had gone wrong, including a flying cat. So Bosco always makes sure to be careful when they lay out the new vials: ten love potions and ten sleep potions on the counter by the register, since they’re the most popular. Then they arrange the other products in rows of five on each shelf, containing potions, creams, and powders for healing minor illnesses, centering visions for psychics, and temporarily changing appearances, along with 20 others. The rest of the shop sells supplies and cauldrons and other usual witch supplies.

Bosco lines up the love and sleep potions, then whirls around when the bell rings, and in walks the one person who always makes the day better.

“Morning, Camden!” Bosco smiles cheerfully.

“Morning,” Camden returns, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. There are gray half-moons under her blue eyes, but they still light up with her smile. She’s been a constant fixture at the shop, mostly for sleeping potions so she could get some actual rest amid the flurry of ballet performances, or cream for all the aches and pains after.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Do you have any sleep potions?”

Bosco nods. “Shouldn’t you be able to sleep after all that dancing you do?”

“You would think.” Camden sighs. “Lately I think I’m thinking too much. About…stuff. Stuff I probably shouldn’t think about.” She quickly looks away from them, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket.

“You said ‘think’ way too much,” Bosco says. “Thinking sucks. That’s why I try not to.”

“I think that might be pretty obvious sometimes,” Camden teases, and Bosco grins.

“I’m gonna sue you for slandering my good name. That’s right, slander. That’s a word only us true intellectuals know.” They pat their chest proudly.

Bosco isn’t sure either of them fully knows what slander means, but people always say it on TV in situations just like this. And besides, it makes Camden laugh, her nose wrinkling up, and Bosco takes it as a win. They’re so distracted by the effects of their victory, in fact, that they grab a vial without really looking at it.

“About three sips of this should be good for the night,” Bosco says, ringing up the sale and sliding Camden the bottle.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. If that doesn’t work, you could always count horses,” Bosco suggests.

Camden blinks. “It’s sheep.”

“Horses are cooler. Fight me.”

Camden laughs again. “I’ll take your word for it.” And then she’s gone, her red hair waving behind her.

Bosco sighs and sags against the counter, their elbow knocking over the row of love potions. They pick them back up, heart skipping a beat when there’s only nine, instead of ten, like there should be.

Bosco forces in a breath. Maybe they’re just miscounting, or mixing things up. After all, the dark blue of the sleep potion is close to the purple love potion. Maybe too close, Bosco thinks, as a quick scan doesn’t help sort the potions out. Bosco tears a hand through their hair, then knocks the vials over again in the rush to count them properly. Ten sleep potions, just like they had marked down this morning. But only nine love potions.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Swearing this early is never a good sign.” Bosco looks up to see Jinkx in the doorway, bagel in hand.

“You do it every morning.”

“Exactly. So what’s the issue?”

“Camden took a love potion.”

“Did she drink it?” Jinkx asks around a mouthful of bagel, “Because it would make my life much easier if she did.” With all the feelings they didn’t want to admit, Bosco often spilled them all to Jinkx for hours at a time, then tried to deny they even felt that way for Camden at all. They’ve never convinced either of them.

“Well, shit, it’d be easier for me too if she drank it!” Bosco splutters. “But it was an accident. I wouldn’t give her one on purpose.”

Bosco would be lying if they said they hadn’t thought about it, just for a few seconds before shaking the temptation off. It would be easy, more than easy, to slip a few drops of a love potion into one of Camden’s sleep potions. Then she would fall in love with Bosco, and they wouldn’t have to make the first move, risk ruining their kind-of friendship. Wouldn’t have to admit they like Camden that much, in that way. But Bosco would never do that. They could never manipulate Camden like that, force her into loving them.

Jinkx nods to themself.

“Plus it’s really strong. Like, follow the person you love across the country and die for them like this is Romeo and Juliet strong. It could make her do something…bad.” Bosco doesn’t even want to think about Camden under the control of something that powerful. “Do you have, like, customer records or something? So I can call her?”

“I sell potions for a living, you tell me,” Jinkx says dryly.

Bosco groans. “How am I gonna stop her from taking it?”

“I guess you have to find her,” Jinkx says.

Bosco sighs and runs out the door. Camden usually goes to the Black Tea Shop in town after she visits, and that’s where they head.

Joe’s tea shop is normally a place Bosco loves, with black-and-white striped walls and spooky decor year-round, plus a piano wedged into the corner. But they tear inside, the door slamming into the wall, and look around breathlessly, giving a quick wave to Pythia – a regular customer at Jinkx's – before turning to Joe.

“Is Camden here?” they demand. Every part of their body is on alert; sweat trickles down their neck, heart racing from the run and from the worry.

“Sorry, love, she left a few minutes ago. Said she wanted her tea to-go today, so she could go home and take a nap.”

It robs Bosco of even more air. Not only is Camden already on her way home, but she’s clearly intending to take that potion when she gets there.

“Everything all right?” Joe’s tattooed, ring-covered hand settles over theirs, and Bosco’s face burns from the comfort.

“Do you know where she lives? It’s really important.”

Joe looks at them deeply, like he’s sizing them up, trying to decide if they’re worthy of the information. “You need to help her, don’t you?”

“How did you—”

“I just know sometimes,” he says firmly, and Bosco remembers that Jinkx has mentioned brewing potions or having séances with Joe before. “Her apartment isn’t far. I’ll write the information down for you.”

Paper in hand, Bosco shoots out several thank yous and runs off again. Camden’s apartment is nearby, which is good, because Bosco is not in shape or good at running. Why on Earth should anyone run unless they need to? Though running practice would have been helpful for this mess. Bosco just listens to their shoes pound over the sidewalk, hoping it isn’t too late to help Camden.

Camden’s confused, but she buzzes them into the apartment, and Bosco skips the elevator and sprints up three flights of stairs, because they’re already soaked in sweat and gasping for air.

Bosco knocks on the door, then bends over and sucks in air until Camden opens the door. She looks ready for bed, in sweatpants and a soft pink sweatshirt. The bags under her eyes look more pronounced, and it makes Bosco’s pounding heart ache. She has to look up to meet Bosco’s eyes, and they try not to think of how she’s just the perfect height for a forehead kiss.

“Bosco? What are you doing—”

“Don’t drink the potion I gave you!”

“Why? Are you trying to poison me?”

“No, it was an accident, but if you drink it, something really bad might happen. Please, you can’t drink it.”

Camden’s face shifts. “You’re serious,” she says, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows, and Bosco realizes that they’ve never been this serious with her; usually it’s a lot of joking and small talk. They’ve never even shown this much emotion around her. They try not to, afraid that any hint of deep emotion would reveal their true feelings to her. Feelings that are rising to the surface like lava preparing to erupt from a volcano.

Bosco nods, trying to collect their words. “I made a mistake and gave you the wrong one. It’s a love potion. A really strong one. It’ll make you fall madly and obsessively in love with the first person you see.”

It’s quiet, the confession just hanging in the air. Camden finally looks up at them, biting her lip. “If it weren’t for the obsession part, that might not be so bad.”

Bosco’s brain lags as they try to process it. “What do you…“ Camden looks at them again, more pointed. Bosco’s head spins. “You don’t…you like me?”

Camden nods, her cheeks flushed red. “I’ve liked you for a while, if I’m being honest. I’ve been wondering if I should tell, but then I kept thinking that would ruin everything.”

“Wait a minute.” Bosco thinks of the bags under Camden’s eyes, the tired set of her shoulders when she comes in the store lately, much more than normal.  “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

Camden nods sheepishly.

“Camden! Why would you lose sleep over me? I’m not…I’m not worth that, I’m just…” Bosco trails off with a helpless shrug. They’ve never thought Camden saw them as anything other than the funny person she traded banter with at the magic shop. Surely Bosco, with their purposely-messy hair and dark jokes, wouldn’t be someone Camden, with all her perfection and grace, would crush on.

But Camden takes their hand, and shakes her head firmly. “You are worth that, Bosco. Do you not know how amazing you are? You make me laugh every day, and you’re so beautiful, and smart, and you’re so kind to everyone. You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

Camden squeezes their hand as she talks, and it’s the only sign to Bosco that they’re really still here, because Camden’s words are running through their mind too fast. Camden really saw them in that way. Camden really liked them in that way. The feelings finally erupt, and Bosco floods with warmth, wondering why they denied telling Camden for so long.

“I, uh…”

“I’m sorry,” Camden says quickly. “I shouldn’t have told you all that, you probably don’t feel the same—”

“I do!” Bosco grips Camden’s hand, taking in her wide eyes. “I do like you that way. I just didn’t want to tell you. Didn’t want to actually admit my feelings and let them out and get hurt.” It seems so ridiculous now, but Bosco’s had unrequited crushes before, and the memory of that constant heartache never really goes away.

“I understand.”

“But, um, would you ever want to go on a date? We could get dinner or something.” Bosco’s hesitation flies away, because it’s okay. Camden likes her back.

“I would love that! Can we do it later though?” Camden asks hesitantly. “I really do need a nap.”

“Hey, I’m the one who ran a damn marathon to get here!”

“I live barely ten minutes from the shop,” Camden says, unimpressed.

“Ten minutes that I fully sprinted, thank you.” Bosco makes a show of grabbing their shirt collar and showing Camden the sweat there. “You’re lucky I didn’t pass out in the hall. I’m sure your landlord would love that.”

Camden grins. “Come in. We can take a nap together.”

Bosco squeezes her hand and follows her inside. 

[shemarmooresfedora]

hii, could do 19,21,27 and 30? maybe like a day off at home with spencer? <3

Just Your Average Rainy Sunday

Summary: Staying in bed with your boyfriend all day, life can’t get much better than this.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content: just domestic fluff

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: this is from my prompt requests (which are now closed). i have one more left to get to and i’m so excited for it! i already have it all planned out!!! anyways, enjoy the fluff...

Masterlist

Your eyes fluttered open to see the dreary gray sky from the window dimly lighting the bedroom. The calm pitter-pattering of rain against the glass almost lulled you back to sleep until you felt Spencer pull you closer and start littering kisses along the back of your neck.

“Morning, love,” you whispered as to not disturb the blissful peace.

He hummed in content, “I’ll get us coffee. You stay here,” he planted one final kiss on your lips.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you smiled.

Spencer came back minutes later with two warm mugs in his hands. He handed you your favorite mug which he got for you while away on a case. It had two bunnies on the front and said “Guess how much I love you!”. Spencer crawled back under the covers with his mug that you got for him that read “Books, because it’s too peopley outside”.

“What do you want to do on our rare coinciding day off?” Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist, encouraging you to lean on his shoulder.

“Hmmm,” you thought out loud, “I want to do nothing all day, but with you.”

Spencer grinned, “I can get behind that.”

You and Spencer spent the morning in bed, munching on bowls of cereal and catching up on the latest show you were watching together.

After about the fourth episode in a row, you were losing focus but Spencer was still glued to the screen.

“Can I paint your nails?” you asked.

“Sure, what color?” he stuck his hands out.

You opened your nightstand drawer, “I have red, light blue, pink, dark green, black, white, and purple.”

“Can you do the dark green, black, and white just like yours so we’re matching?” Spencer pointed to your nails.

“Of course, babe,” you smiled.

You got to work pushing his cuticles back and filing his nails before putting a base coat down and finally the top glossy clear coat.

“I love it,” he beamed, inspecting his nails, “And I love that we are matching even more,” he grabbed your hand and interlocked fingers.

“I hate to say it but once this episode is over, I think we should actually get out of bed and be productive. I need to do some laundry. I’m out of clean bras,” you said.

“Or just don’t wear one and then you can stay in bed all day,” Spencer grabbed you before you could get out from underneath the covers.

“I’m out of pants too. Are you suggesting I should go pantless to work tommorow?” you asked, amused.

“Fine, we’ll do laundry,” he sighed, releasing you, “Only I get the privilege of that view,” he smirked.

-

You and Spencer were sitting on the floor of the laundry room, folding the freshly-washed clothes.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, holding up a maroon crewneck, “I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“I normally don’t but it was at the bottom of my go-bag on that case in Alaska last week and I was freezing. It was from my math team in high school,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, I’m stealing this from you because it’s like your football letterman jacket but way cooler. The girlfriends always got to wear them except I can parade around the fact that my boyfriend is actually intelligent rather than a meathead who probably has five concussions,” you smiled.

“Take it, it’s yours now,” Spencer confirmed, “I want everyone to know that the former captain of the math team at Las Vegas Public High School is capable of getting the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“I’m only with you for the fame that comes with that title,” you joked.

Spencer grabbed your basket of folded clothes and brought it back into the bedroom.

“Bed again, please?” he pouted.

“Fine, we’ll put the clothes away later,” you relented.

Spencer dove into bed and patted the spot right next to him, making you giggle. He grabbed his book while you made yourself comfortable with your yarn and crochet hook.

“What are you making now?” Spencer asked.

“Mittens for you in case you have another case in Alaska or somewhere else chilly. Can’t have my boyfriend being cold when I’m not there to cuddle with him and give him all my precious body heat,” you spoke as you stitched away, “And they’re purple to match your scarf!”

“I can’t wait to wear them,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked as Spencer opened up his book to the page he was on.

“Of course, love.”

A/N: fun fact i actually love to crochet and i would crochet spencer a pair of mittens so fast

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily

[scentedcandlesandcookies]

So I was inspired by @mrpenguinpants (go check out their work I'm referring to below this paragraph) and wanted to do another genshin fic. The interactions here can be anything you want it to mean (besides qiqi ofc). Also this is very self indulgent.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Self hatred, self loathing, blood, depressing thoughts ig(?), momentary oblivion of you squint.

Also I'm on mobile so I'm so sorry for not being able to add a read more option!

Somehow you knew without knowing. You said things without needing to say it. A vessel of purity and wholeness. You had so much to give.

But how much was too much?

Qiqi called yours name on a rather sunny day. You were just about to head to Bubu Pharmacy when she ran up to them.

"Could you help me pick herbs? We always go together."

You knew what she meant in ways she couldn't convey. You were special to her, to everyone. You weren't aware of it though.

Knowing the worth of others was easier than knowing the worth of yourself.

"Of course, Qiqi, I'll always have time for you."

Qiqi loved your smile. It felt familiar. Qiqi saw you as an older sibling. She loved you in ways she couldn't express.

"I'm only good to be your ladder though! You know I'm not good with naming herbs!"

On a cooler day, Zhongli called you to have some tea with him. The both of you sat at a teashop watching the harbor through the open window.

The gentle breeze touched all uncovered parts of your skin. The smell of the sea dancing underneath your nose. The sunset painting a melancholic picture.

"The ocean looks sad today."

Zhongli looked at you rather confusedly. After promptly sipping his tea he responded.

"How can an ocean look sad? Something so old shouldn't be humanized."

The last sentence was more for himself than anything. You didn't know, but he sometimes loathed himself for all he'd done. He wondered if all the blood spilt was worth it.

You reminded him of Guizhong, so ready to see things in a new light without judgement. He often hears you sing to glaze lilies around Qingce.

"How could we forget what all the ancients did for us?"

A day after some much needed rain, you spotted Ganyu. Busy as ever, she was handling the unending work she often received. You decided to help out.

"Good morning, Ganyu. You seem to be someone who'd appreciate and extra pair of hands."

The joking atmosphere seemed to help lift the weight more than your hands. Ganyu giggled a bit.

"Some help would be much appreciated."

The rest of the day didn't feel like work. Ganyu felt the days of her childhood rushing back to her. Days without worry or work. Everything felt warmer, the sun began peeking its head out of the clouds.

"I'll do my best."

You visited Hu Tao on a gloomy day. The clouds were gray and it looked as if it was about to rain. You entered the doors of the funeral parlor with the permission of the ferrylady.

Unfortunately, Hu Tao wasn't feeling very Hu Tao that day. Walking into her office, she seemed lost in thought.

"Hu Tao?"

The gift of candies laud forgotten on the desk. You moved to place a hand on her shoulder. A gesture of your listening presence.

"They're just pranks, and I'm just trying to get business. Like everyone else, its just...different."

Pulling her in for a hug, just being a strong unbreakable pillar for her sake.

"They don't see all the things you do behind the scenes. That makes them immature, not you. I don't think they know why you do the things you do, and you know what? That's okay. You know what you're doing, and that's the best thing you could do. You're doing so well."

Liyue knew you so so well. An unbreakable pillar. A foundation that so many people needed.

What would happen if you ever crumbled? Well, that could never happen.

You visited Xiao on a rainy day. No heavy downpour, just a normal pitter-patter kind of rain.

You held a new dish in your hands, thinking that Xiao should try a new dish. Not to 'be more human' but to just try a different taste of life.

"Why are you still coming here? Its a long way from the harbor."

You simply smiled at the ground and put down the dish. Too afraid to sit on the railing, you opted for the floor.

"Being lonely isn't fun."

"As I thought, you're still so blind. Loneliness is my only company."

You laughed for a moment.

"Guess I should change my name to loneliness then."

You dared not to look at the mighty yaksha. You were just a pathetic human after all. Letting the dish sit in your lap, you outstretched your arms behind you.

"And you can't go around telling people they're blind! We all see things differently. You might think you need to spend eternity in loneliness, but we all crave to be loved or appreciated. Xiao, you're stuck with me."

You closed your eyes and turned towards Xiao, giving him a smile.

You felt the dish being taken from your lap and heard him sit next to you.

He began eating the warm soup.

Today was a bad day to go out. Heavy rain and a dark atmosphere. But you had commissions knocking against your income. You were preoccupied with something else though.

Everyone's busy. I really need some help but everyone's busy and I don't want to bother them.

You admired Qiqi for braving through her life as best as she could.

You admired Zhongli for his wise and comforting views on life.

You admired Ganyu's persistence in her work, but most importantly in herself.

You admired Hu Tao for being herself even when others shamed her for it.

You admired Xiao for living through such mundane life, day after day.

You wanted to be just like them, but you just couldn't do it on some days.

You wanted to hide. You wanted to bitch about your day. You wanted to give up. You wanted to hide yourself to avoid judgement. You wanted something different. Someone different.

Someone who wasn't you.

You never looked as good as everyone else. Your voice never sounded right. Your never seemed to be mentionable or noteworthy. And on some days you were okay with that.

Am I really going to be another grain of salt?

You trudged through the thick mud, ignoring the blisters on your feet. The rain seemed to taunt you as it settled in your clothes, your bones.

All you could taste was steel. You couldn't remember the last meal you ate. You felt so tired. You wanted to just stop everything.

But how could you? How could you when everyone else went on? It was just one last commission. They all have so much on their plate, you couldn't burden them anymore.

But your lungs burnt, you couldn't feel your fingers on your right hand. Where was your weapon? When did you lose your bag?

Why were your eyes so blurry? Everything sounded so loud. You just wanted to sleep. You were tired. You were trying so hard.

Why was it so fucking hard?

Why couldn't you do it? Why were you always so unsure? Why didn't you work as well as the others? Your feet moved by themselves. They weren't going fast enough. Your body wasn't good enough.

You're not enough.

You think you're at your destination. You don't know. Everything feels so unclear. Everything feels wrong.

Then there was warmth on your back. It was so warm, so comforting. It finally lulled you to sleep.

The millileth pulled the mitachurl's firey axe from the back of your corpse.

You were confused when you woke up. A girl with brown hair and a hat was frantically calling someone. You were in a lobby of sorts. There were others talking about people who left. They didn't look like people. They were see through.

See through just like you.

"Aiya! Why aren't you listening to me you idiot! You scared us! What happened?"

The girl seemed to be the only normal person here. Suddenly you felt like you've been ripped from that foggy place.

People were calling the same person's name again. Over and over. You were just trying to continue sleeping when you were violently shaken.

"Hey! Whats your problem!"

You shook the person off of you. A young man with a green tattoo and dark hair. A taller man with amber eyes and brown hair. A woman with horns and silky looking blue hair. That girl from before who wore the hat. A small girl with light purple hair and had a talisman on her hat.

"You're alive! Thank the archons! We were so worried when we heard the news! " The lady with the horns looked as if she was about to cry. You felt bad but the tension was awkward.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

Ty for reading! Leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed it! I hope some of yall picked up the hidden meanings hehehe~

Part two here:

[libelelle]

would you be interested in doing some birds in 22 50 54 and 80?

anon i am kissing you

send some more from this post along with a character!!

[image description: four digital drawings of birds in different colour palettes.

Image 1: an orange-breasted falcon perched on a thick branch, showing it's front with it's head turned to see the profile. There is a black box with 5 purple colours of various shades labeled as "22- winter in the dark" in the corner. The falcon is painted in these colours, making the scene much cooler than the bird appears in real life.

Image 2: an american flamingo standing in shallow water. Its head is looking over its shoulder, leaning forward slightly as if it just pulled its head up from the water. A black box with 5 colours- a rosy pink, a more vibrant pink, a light shade of green, a mustard yellow and a soft blue- labeled as "50- Harlequin" sits in the corner. The flamingo is painted with the pinks, and the feathers and wings on its back are painted with the yellow and blue. it beak is green, as well as the leaves beyond the shallow water.

Image 3: the upper half of Brehm's Tiger Parrot, facing to the side to display it's profile. There is a box in the corner with 5 colours, gray, navy blue, purple, teal and light yellow. It's labeled as "54- losing my mind." The parrots wings and back are painted in teal, its head painted in purple, with fades into the yellow of it's belly. It's beak is blue that fades to gray at the tip. the back and breast of the parrot has barred marks of navy on it's feathers. The background is yellow, with large navy and purple leaves lined in teal and yellow.

Image 4: A gray jay perched on a branch, with its back facing us and head turned to look over its shoulder. As with the others, there is a black box in the corner with 5 colours, this time in various shades of brown. the lighter, richer colours, including a creamy white and a rusty brown, colour the jays feather, while the darker, muted colours colour its beak, eye and legs. the branch is a light brown and the background is dark with silhouettes of pine branches.

end Image description]

[jungwonenthusiast]

Friends Don’t Lie Ch. 7, 8, and Epilogue

A/N: This is the end of the series now I hope u guys enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun to write :)

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: major character death

Based on: Stranger Things

Chapter 7

El

“Okay but before we get to the gate, we need to know where in the Upside Down he is.” Jake says then turns to you. “Can you do the radio thingy again?”

“That won’t tell me where he is.” you say. “I need to go to the bath.”

“The bath?” they all say.

After some explaining, Jake finally gets the jist.

“So what the hell is it?” Jay asks.

“It’s a sensory deprivation tank.”

“And why does she need that?” Heeseung says.

“Because it let’s her be alone with just her consciousness. I guess it’ll help her see more in the Void.” Jake explains.

“Well how do we get it to?” Sunghoon asks.

“We can’t,” Jake replies. “We have to make one.”

“Do we do it in an actual bath tub?” Niki asks.

“No,” Jake chuckles. “Heeseung do you still have that kiddie pool we used when we were babies.”

He nods.

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Jungwon puts duct tape over a pair of scuba goggles as the rest of the boys fill up the pool and steal the bags of salt the school keeps in case of a snow storm.

“Is this good?” he hands them to you and you nod.

“I’m gonna get these clothes wet.” you look down at your outfit that Jungwon took from Jooyoung’s closet.

“It’s fine, Heeseung brought some clothes you can change into later.”

You’re sitting together in a classroom and his knees are only an inch away from touching yours.

“You’re very brave, you know?” he says and you tilt your head. “Like way braver than any super hero.”

“Super hero?” you ask. “Didn’t Jake call me that once? Is that a mean name?”

“No no no,” he shakes her name. “It’s a compliment. A super hero is someone who can do things that other humans can’t, and they use their powers to save people. My favorite is Scarlet Witch.”

“Scarlet Witch.” you say and he nods.

“You’re way cooler than her though. We should give you a superhero name.”

“Like what?” you ask.

“Hmm,” he ponders for a moment and then his eyes light up. “How about Bird of the Night.”

“Why bird? Why night?” you frown. “Do I look like a bird?” you touch your face and he laughs.

“No no, you don’t. I chose bird because you remind me of an owl.” he says.

“An owl? Why?”

“Because owls are wise, and you know a lot of things,” he says. “And I chose night because we met at night.”

You nod, understanding his decision.

“What would your superhero name be?” you ask and he looks down.

“I don’t know, normal guy of the normal day.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that you’re not super?” you frown.

He looks at you. “I don’t have any powers like you do.”

“Yeah you do,” you say and he raises an eyebrow. “You made me laugh, remember? No one has done that before.”

He smiles and looks away.

“Your cheeks are doing that thing again-” you point and he stands up abruptly.

“We should go check up on the other guys.”

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Jungwon holds your hand for leverage as you step into the pool. You sit down in the warm water before pulling the goggles over your eyes.

You relax into the water and allow yourself to float peacefully.

You enter the part of your mind that you haven't visited in a while. It’s completely dark, and it goes on for miles and miles.

You approach a small wooden fort and read off the sign.

“Castle Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung scoots towards you.

“Can you go inside?” he asks frantically. “Is Sunoo there?”

You slowly pull away the white sheet, revealing a boy curled up in a ball and shivering from the cold.

“Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung gasps.

“Tell him- tell him I’m coming for him,” he says. “Tell him to stay put and that I’m coming.”

You kneel down next to Sunoo. He’s so pale and his lips are purple. His blond hair is stuck to his forehead and you gently push it away. His eyes open, but barely.

“You’re hyung, he’s coming for you.” you tell him.

“Heeseung hyung?” he croaks and it comes through the walkie talkie.

Heeseung’s heart twists. “I’m gonna find you Sunoo, just stay put. I- I love you so much.”

“He said that he’s gonna find you, and that he loves you.” you tell him.

“Hurry.” Sunoo whispers.

You begin to hear a low growling and just as you realize what’s happening, Sunoo and the castle begin to disintegrate into the air. You grab onto his hand.

“Sunoo no! Wait!” you cry. “Not yet not yet!”

But it’s too late. You’re alone again. In that deep dark abyss that you thought you left in the bad place. You can never leave it though, it’s a part of you.

You sit up and tug the goggles off your head.

“You okay?” Jungwon scrambles to grab your arm and you lean into him, shaken up from seeing Sunoo just disappear like that.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, not caring that you’re getting his shirt soaked.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that must’ve been scary, you did so good.”

You rest your forehead on his chest, already feeling tired.

“Here you should get out now.” Jungwon interrupts and grabs your hand.

He pulls you out of the pool and wraps a towel around your shoulders. He hands you a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

“Let’s go to the bathroom so you can change.” He takes your hand and leads you to the lockers.

He turns around as you peel wet clothes off your cold body.

“So what’d you see?” he asks quietly.

“I saw him… in his fort.” you reply. “He was curled up on the floor. So blue. So cold.”

You tug the gray crewneck over your head and pull the jeans up your legs.

“Is he… okay?”

“No,” you say. “He doesn’t have much time left.” you tap on his shoulder and he turns around.

Your hair is dripping and pooling wet patches on the sweatshirt.

“Your hair is still wet.” he says and you shrug.

He grabs the towel and places it over your head, scrunching around to soak the water up. He throws the towel onto a bench and then pulls you against him, chest to chest. He rests his cheek on your hair and rubs your back.

“What?” you ask oblivious to his affection.

He pulls away. “I figured you were cold. I was trying to share some body heat.”

“Body heat.” you say and he nods.

You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him. “I am cold.”

CHAPTER 8

A/N: There's a bit where Jungwon is thinking about how he wants to touch the reader. Please know that this isn’t sexual. I wanted to portray the overwhelming feeling of liking/loving someone so much that you just want to feel them all the time and be connected in a way that isn’t through words. This thought he has is endearing, not sexual.

“Well what do we do now?” Jake asks.

“We need to go to the Upside Down.” Heeseung says.

“How do even do that, we’ve been trying to figure that out forever.” Jay says.

“Okay well we know that the gate would create a lot of power right?” Sunghoon says. “Enough to disturb the electromagnetic field.” Jake nods. “So what if we…”

“Compass.” Jake says. “We need compasses.” he gets up and rushes out of the gym.

“Where are you going?” Niki calls out.

“Come with me!” Jake says and Niki dashes after him.

“So who’s gonna go?” Jungwon asks. “Someone needs to stay with El, she’s too tired.”

You shake your head. “I can go.”

He groans. “We’ve had this argument like three thousand times.

“Well she can be our weapon.” Sunghoon says.

“She’s human you know, not a machine gun.” Jungwon says.

“She’s been low on juice for a whole day now, what if she can’t help us.” Jay says.

“Why do you guys talk about me like I’m not here.” you rolls your eyes. “I can go, I promise.”

Jake and Niki come running into the gym with their hands and pockets full of compasses.

They throw them onto the floor.

“What the hell.” Heeseung sneers.

“Look at this.” Jake points at the arrow. “It’s pointing south.”

“What?” Sunghoon’s brows knit.

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, making north that way.” he points behind him. “But all of the compasses are pointing south.”

The group looks at him, confused.

“Remember, the gate is so powerful that it can manipulate the magnetic field. So whatever these compasses are pointing to is where the gate should be.” Jake explains.

“Ohhh,” the group vocalizes.

“Let’s go then.” Heeseung leaps to his feet and pulls his keys out of his pocket.

Jungwon helps you stand up and you link your arm around his as you walk to the car.

El

“Left,” Jake says. “Okay now keep going.”

Five minutes pass when Niki asks. “How are we gonna know when we get there?” And right on que, you all arrive at Hawkins National Laboratory. Jungwon feels your arm tense around his.

“The fuck is this place?” Niki asks, sitting on Jay’s lap.

“The lab, my dad told me it’s a government thing.” Jungwon says.

“We can’t go in there.” You whisper and Jungwon turns to you.

“Why not?”

“Bad place.” you say and he cocks his head.

“This is the bad place? This is where you come from?” he asks and you nod. “We’re probably gonna die if we go in then.”

“I don’t care, Sunoo’s in there, I need to find him.” Heeseung unlocks the door and you drop your head into your hands.

“No no no no no,” you mumble to yourself. Jungwon turns to you and grabs your hands as the boys quietly exit the car, snooping around the building gate.

“We have to go in, we don’t have any other choice.” he says.

“I don’t wanna go back. It’s too scary.” you whimper.

“I know, but we’ll be with you the whole time.” he tries to assure you. He hadn’t styled his hair today and it’s poking into his eyes. “Heeseung is tall, he can be our shield.”

You giggle.

“And once we save Sunoo and this is all over we can listen to my vinyls like I told you we would and I’ll tell my parents about you so that you won’t be a secret anymore and we can hang out all the time and- and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Snow Ball with me.” he says timidly.

“What’s the Snow Ball?” you ask.

“It’s this stupid dance we have at our school. I’ve only ever been to homecoming but I thought it’d be fun for us to go.” he explains, still bashful.

You touch his cheek and he looks at you. “You should tell me what this is. Is it some kind of condition?”

“Oh,” he looks away and giggles. “It just means that I’m… I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” you ask him.

Jungwon

He knows what he wants to say.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND COOL AND I NEVER THOUGHT I’D LIKE A GIRL UNTIL I MET YOU. I LOVE YOUR VOICE AND YOUR FACE AND EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU ALL THE TIME I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO TOUCH YOU AND HOLD YOU. I WANT TO SHOW YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW I THINK I LOVE YOU.”

But of course he doesn’t say that.

Instead he settles with a trembling “Because… I like you.”

You smile. “I like you too.”

His heart leaps but then he realizes that you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Who else do you like?”

“I like a lot of people.” you reply and he squints.

“Like who?”

“Mm, I like Jay and Jake and Sunghoon and Niki and Heeseung.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like you like that.”

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

“Uhmm,” he thinks for a second. “I like you in a different way. Like like like.”

You Sit there, confused.

“Can you close your eyes?” he asks and you giggle.

“Why?”

Your giggle makes him giggle. “Because I can’t do this when you’re looking at me.”

“Okay.” you close them.

He takes a deep breath. You can do it, don’t be a pussy, he thinks. He leans into you and plants a short kiss onto your cheek.

Your eyes fly open and you look so surprised and adorable he could die.

Then he leans in again and pecks you gently on the lips. His heart is basically sprinting now.

You smile and he does too. Your smile is intoxicating. He wants to fall into it.

He doesn’t even get a chance to speak because of the banging on the window.

Jungwon opens the door.

“Come on, we need help!” Niki ushers you two into the lab.

“How’d you guys even get in?!” Jungwon whisper yells and you two run after him.

“Heeseung hyung found a back door. We literally almost died.” Niki says. He opens the door. “Here, go go.”

You guys run through the hallway. There’s two men passed out on the floor. Looks like Heeseung's work, Jungwon thinks.

“Go down the stairs!” Niki orders, leading you to this underground dungeon.

“What the fuck,” Jungwon whispers as he lays his eyes on the casm on the wall, covered in these indescribable vines and drippings of green goop.

He sees Heeseung stepping into a yellow hazmat suit. You run towards him and Jungwon follows.

“Here,” Heeseung hands you and Jungwon each a suit.

Jungwon’s palms are sweaty from all the adrenaline. “O-okay.” He tugs the suit up.

There’s banging and shouting coming from the glass chamber.

“Hurry, they’re coming!” Heeseung rushes everyone as you all get suited up.

You don’t waste a minute walking through the cavity.

El

You hold onto Jungwon’s hand as you and the boys run through the dark and foggy scene, hoping to get far enough that the staff can’t get you.

The Upside Down is just as you imagined. It’s Hawkins, but everything is wrong. It feels like death.

“The castle is this way!” Heeseung points to the dense forest ahead.

You don’t have time to freak out and think about how you’re in an alternate universe. The only thing keeping you tied to reality is Jungwon’s hand in yours.

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You run through branches and leaves and eventually get to the fort.

Heeseung throws the curtain open to find Sunoo just as you saw him earlier, curled up and hopeless.

Heeseung drops to his knees and tries to shake him awake. The rest of the boys follow suit.

“Sunoo, Sunoo it’s me, it’s your hyung!” he yelps but Sunoo stays motionless.

“Sunoo? Sunoo man it’s us.” Jay says.

Jake takes his mask off and brings an ear to Sunoo’s face. “He isn’t breathing.”

“Fuck, oh my god-” Heeseung wails.

“It’s fine it’s fine,” Jake leans over Sunoo and holds two hands on his chest, “Just breathe into his mouth when I tell you to.”

Jake begins to pump on the boy’s chest as Heeseung rips his oxygen mask off. Your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens anxiously.

“Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, okay go!” Jake says and Heeseung blows air into Sunoo’s blue lips.

“Keep going.” Jake says but Sunoo doesn’t wake up. “Please Sunoo,” tears begin to drip down Heeseung’s face. “I love you so much, I need you. You’re all I have.”

You notice Jungwon beginning to hiccup and you lean into him.

“Come one man,” Jake says.

Heeseung breathes one more time into Sunoo’s mouth when he coughs.

“Sunoo?! Sunoo it’s me!” Heeseung says, delighted. The whole group leans forward to get a better look.

Sunoo’s eyes crack open. “Hyung?”

Heeseung pulls the boy into his arms, petting his hair and kissing his forehead. All of the boys bear hug him but he’s too weak to fully understand what’s going on.

You’re still embracing Sunoo when you hear a low growl.

“Wait,” you say as the boys continue to celebrate Sunoo’s survival. “Shut up!” you say louder. “I hear something.”

You slowly stand up try to locate the sound. Your heart drops into your stomach.

“The demogorgon, it’s here.” you can hear them all hold their breath. You take your mask off and unzip your suit before stepping out of it, you feel like it’ll hold you back.

Just as you’re about to walk out, the monster tears at the fort and it comes tumbling down.

You muster some strength and send the thing flying before walking towards it. You know what this will do to you, but it’s the only choice you have. Maybe you’re a fool too, just like Jungwon.

You hold a hand out and muster all of the strength you have left. And as the Demogorgan slowly starts to disintegrate into the dirt, so does your spirit. You drop to the ground.

Jungwon

He runs to you.

He can’t hear anything over the thought of you.

He cradles you in his arms. He can't even imagine you leaving him.

Your eyes are barely open and your fingers are already turning to ash.

“El no! No no no!” he holds you against him, desperate to keep you here. “What about the Snow Ball! What about- what about everything?”

You smile a small smile and his heart shatters like glass, the small fragments puncturing every one of his organs.

He tugs his mask off. “Please no, I-” he holds your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly one last time.

You wipe the tears off his cheeks with your thumb. And just like that, you’re gone. Like you never existed. Just more flecks of dust in this dust filled world.

Jungwon doesn’t realize that he’s being dragged to his feet. He feels deaf like the scenes in war movies where a bomb goes off and they can’t hear anything but ringing. He’s stuck in a haze. It’s like being drunk but being drunk off of acetone and arsenic, not alcohol.

Jooyoung’s arms are around him for the first time in years. There are tears streaming down her face and she’s saying things that Jungwon can’t understand. All he can see is the look on your face before you disappeared. He could tell that you were in pain but you were hiding it with a smile. He cries into Jooyoung's shoulder, wishing that it was yours instead.

EPILOGUE

The police got involved, and then the FBI, then the government, then the president. Jungwon and the boys were on the news at least fifty times.

Sunoo seems fine and things are back to normal. Except for you. Sometimes he’ll catch glances of someone who looks just like you and have to do a triple take. All the clothes you ever borrowed from him are in a box in his closet. Everything reminds him of you: the basement, his walkie talkie, his bed, his posters, the living room, anyone with the same colored hair or eyes as you, even his own face reminds him of you. Every time he looks in the mirror he remembers the places you touched him. His cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, his waist, his hands, his lips.

He went through a phase of being angry about what you did. He hooked up with as many girls as he could, trying to forget you. But all it did was make him feel dirty, and like he was betraying you.

“You have to move on eventually,” Jay said.

But he didn’t think he could.

Know one could compare to you. No matter how smart or how popular or how cool, you were always better.

Jungwon’s washing his face when the light flickers. Then again, and again, and again in a peculiar pattern. He tries to remember the morse code he learned when he was in boy scouts. He stands there, trying to calm his heart as he translates the lights. I, M, I, S, S, Y, O, U.

I miss you.

taglist: @shawkneecaps @wonwoosh @strwberrydinosaur @ferxanda

[obirains-archive]

Dark Eyes

Characters: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, with appearances by Grogu and Din’s mother Word Count: 1387 Genre: light angst Summary: Aboard the Slave I, Din finds himself in need of a haircut for the first time since his life on the Crest, and his life with the kid. But don’t worry; he can do it himself. (post-season 2) Warnings: minor injury + blood mention. I didn’t revise a damn thing and will probably hate it by tomorrow but! here it is please enjoy

Masterlist + Taglist

Din's hair was too long. It chafed at the base of his neck against his clothes and stuck down on his forehead, slick with sweat beneath the beskar. It was weeks since he'd cut it—maybe months—in front of a mirror hardly bigger than his fist and a little too low on the wall on a night when he'd gotten the kid to sleep early. Or maybe it was a morning. Not that it mattered out in space, but it did bother him that his memory was so foggy. It couldn't have been that long ago... Not that it mattered.

"I need to borrow some scissors, if you have any," he told Boba in the cockpit. His pair had been on the Crest, and of course wasn't made of beskar. They'd been blasted to smithereens.

"Fresher cabinet, bottom shelf," Boba answered without so much as a glance at him. There was a silence. "Need help?"

Din blinked—he was still standing there in the cockpit, motionless. "No," he said hoarsely. "No, thank you."

He was painfully aware of his footfalls against the metal floor and the pinpricks in his neck. And the Slave I fresher—though more private—was somehow even more cramped than he was used to. Din was by no means a slight man but he definitely wasn't beefy, either; some of the more thickset Mandalorians used to tease him for his stature. All in good fun, of course. But now, shuffling in full armor into the four by five space, a space he was already well-acquainted with, Din had never felt like more of an oaf. He glanced out the open door. No Boba. No Fennec. He shut the door, and pulled off his helmet.

Even with the helmet off there was hardly enough room to open the cabinet. And even when he managed it, the scissors were smaller than he'd imagined. Smaller, at least, than his old pair. He'd have to take his gloves off. Din began to sweat. His hands were clammy; they felt slippery against the cool metal. Dank farrik, he was gonna cut his own fingers off. Din almost stuffed the scissors back in the cabinet, pulled his gloves and helmet back on, and left right then. His hair wasn't that long. It wasn't that much of a nuisance. But no sooner had he thought it than he was blinking back strands of hair from his eyelashes.

Din breathed deep, breathed with his whole chest, and turned to face the mirror. He choked on nothing but the air in his lungs.

Before him stood a man more bent, more pale, more haggard and disheveled than he'd ever seen, not in all his time as a bounty hunter. And—dank farrik—that was him. He grit his teeth and took a chunk of his hair between his fingers, and raised the scissors.

Snip. A good two inches of dark brown fell to the dingy and age-streaked polycarbonate sink. Din looked back up. He'd cut too high. The half of his hair not laced with his lashes stuck out choppy and slanted against his sweat-beaded temples. He flexed his fingers, trying to swallow down the panic bubbling in his chest, and cut the other side.

Snip. His face felt cooler now, but without the overgrown bangs his skin looked paler and his eyes darker than ever. Rings of gray and purple hung beneath his sockets with nothing to distract from them but the uneven rectangle that reluctantly lay on his high forehead.

Dimly—very, very far off, a neighboring galaxy away and its silvery slivers of stars—he remembered his mother, the one he'd been born with. She'd been tall, dark-eyed and dark-haired and pretty to his childish eyes. Such a handsome face, she whispered to him with his cheeks in her hands. She said it like it was a secret, something fun and exciting for his ears only, and the promise of more. Strong forehead, like your father. And she'd press kiss after kiss between his brows, holding him firmly in place as he squirmed.

He'd always wondered if she had survived, somehow. His father, too. Long after he'd forgotten his love for them, he still pondered their fate. It had probably been bleak; the Mandalorians who found him found few other survivors. They'd have to have been very, very fast runners.

Snip. His hair had grown bushy around the ears; Din hated having these things so close. The helmet muffled most sounds for him and made them tolerable, if a bit monotonous. He hated how each swipe of the blades echoed through his ear drum and reverberated in his skull. It was enough to drive a man insane. His hands were shaking.

"Damn it!" The scissors hit the sink with a clatter. He'd nicked himself. The wetness in his ear felt foreign and made him shiver; his blood looked almost indigo in the cold, blue-ish light. He found a wad of cotton in the cabinet and pressed it against his head. He should have left his hair alone when he had the chance.

But he couldn't stop now. Even he had that much self-respect.

Snip. Snip. Snip. He took deep breaths, regular breaths. His hands steadied. He didn't nick himself again, not even when he had to reach around to the nape of his neck where the metal felt coldest. Locks of hair landed in his undershirt and cloak; he'd have trouble cleaning that out later. It'd be a very scratchy next few days but at least he'd be cooler. He set the scissors down on the sink—more gently this time—and brushed what he could from the fabric. And a little less dimly—a candle in the next room—he saw a little green fist clutching a clump of dark brown hair, waving it like a flag.

Where'd you find that, kid? Din scooped him up in one arm. I think you've been climbing where you shouldn't. Hm?

He only cooed and stared up at him with those enormous, dark eyes. He was smiling, Din thought; he could see his tiny teeth peeking out. Hell, the kid knew he shouldn't be crawling onto the fresher sink. Did he care? Apparently not.

Give it to me. Grogu only clenched his fist tighter. Open, Din said louder, holding out his other hand. Grogu's fingers relaxed, leaving the fine strands to fall between Din's cloak and his cuirass. He sighed. Thank you.

Din lurched to turn on the water and leaned over the sink, gripping the sides with both hands. A cold flash washed over him even as he sweat through his clothes. He was not gonna be sick. He was not gonna be sick. The dark strands floated down the drain. Dimly, far off, he remembered that hair belonged in the waste basket. Not the plumbing. But by the time he remembered it was almost all gone, along with his cold sweats.

He went to clean the scissors on his cloak of any remnants and noted a rusty smear at the tip of each blade. It was his blood, now dried. Some of it had gotten into the rest of his hair, no doubt. He'd have to shower it out later. For now he only ran them underneath the cold water, dried them with his cloak, and put them back in the cabinet. Bottom shelf, though he couldn't remember if they went in front of or behind the package of bacta patches. Not that it mattered.

Satisfied that he'd more or less cleaned up his mess, Din looked back in the mirror. A crack job. Clumps of hair still stuck out at odd angles—not to mention the too-short, too-crooked bangs in the middle of his forehead. But when he put on his helmet, all of it disappeared: the haircut, the dark circles, the flushed and pale patches. The cut on his ear. Only the cool blue light on polished beskar, impenetrable by blasters and sabers and scissors alike. He slipped on his gloves, opened the door, and turned off the light.

"Find what you need?" Boba asked him back in the cockpit, helmet still fixed ahead.

"Yes," Din answered. He sat in the passenger's seat and gripped the armrests with a silent, shuddering sigh. "Yes. Thank you."

Tags: @mcu-padawan, @thespareoom, @wille-zarr, @cherrykenobi, @acciokenobi, @lloveyouinsecret, @catsnkooks, @morganas-pendragons, @beskar-tano, @anakin-danvers, @kyjoraven,@meshlamando, @senator-nahberries, @nobie, @princessxkenobi, @liadamerondjarin, @captainrexstan, @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky, @saltybreaddream, @unlockyourmind-wp, @softly-sad, @marvelinsanity, @notreallybeccab, @obihoekenobi, @soveryhowvery

[thebigqueer]

Solangelo - "Edging Closer and Closer to Doom" - One-Shot

Summary: Nico and Will visit Percy and Annabeth to get advice before they leave for Tartarus.

Word Count: 4843

SPOILERS: Tower of Nero; TW: brief mention of guns (no actual violence though); trauma

Read on AO3

“Nico, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

“Is it somewhere romantic?”

Nico turns to Will, stopping both the boys in their tracks. A small smile twists over his mouth. “Well, we can go somewhere afterwards.”

It’s a warm day in August, and Will wants nothing more than to stay here at camp and enjoy the sun with his boyfriend. The month is coming to a close, along with their freedom, and Will thinks it’s important to enjoy the time they have left together.

Since the clash with Nero, Nico’s dreams have been getting worse. He’s been sleeping in later and later, trying to get snippets of the voice, to analyze where and who it’s coming from. Will has been getting worried about him; after some time at camp, Nico’s body seemed to fill into itself and an olive sheen returned to his skin, but only in the past few weeks all that work to improve himself appeared to be for nothing. His dark circles inked into his eyelids and the tan of his skin leached away as his fears took control of him again. His muscles turned to bones, hardening and poking against his skin. He isn’t even able to eat properly.

How are either of them supposed to survive Tartarus when they’re both getting robbed of their health?

“If we’re not going on a romantic date,” Will says, placing his hand over Nico’s wrist, “then I don’t want it.”

Nico raises an eyebrow and pulls closer, leaning his head back to properly look at Will. “It’s to prepare us for Tartarus. We need it.”

A block of ice settles in Will’s chest, freezing him down to his core. All the giddiness that he felt just moments ago melts away. He frowns. “Oh. Okay. Are we leaving for Tartarus right now?”

“Not for Tartarus.” A small smile balances across Nico’s face. “We’re just going to a place.”

“What is this place?” Will asks, seriousness slipping into his voice. “Are we going to Paris?”

Nico shakes his head. “No, we’re not going for the prophecy yet. Just… I need to show you something before we leave for real.”

Will sighs. “Okay. Are we going right now?”

Nico nods. “I’m going to shadow-travel us. You have Kit-Kats in your bag?”

“I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and pulls Will along, leading the two of them to the shadow of a nearby tree. “Let’s hope I don’t bring us to Venezuela again.”

Will laughs softly, the sound of it evaporating in the August heat. “Well, I didn’t mind being covered in cheese.”

“Yeah, well, at least it matched with your aesthetic. Cheese Head.”

About five minutes later, Nico and Will find themselves in a much different setting than the camp. The air here is much warmer than Long Island - it pours over both the boys’ skin and immediately coats them in sweat.

Looking around, Will realizes there are buildings surrounding them. Some people mill about, mostly teenagers and young adults with books in their hand and backpacks slung over their shoulder. College age. An aura of maturity lingers in the warm air, and suddenly Will feels too young to be here. Too inexperienced.

Nico leads the two out of the shadows and into the bright sun, and Will wants nothing more than to crawl right back into the darkness. Anything is better than this heat.

As the two stumble around, looking out of place in such a grown-up world, Will asks, “Where are we?”

Nico leads them towards a large building, where some young adults stand around and talk to each other. Some of them turn to look at Will and Nico, but for the most part none of them seem to mind. Dark circles linger under each of their eyes.

“We’re in New Rome,” Nico responds just as they enter the building. A cool wave washes over Will and he sighs outwardly in relief. The heat outside was almost unbearable.

But then Nico’s words settle into his mind, and he stops in his tracks. “New Rome?” he squeaks. “Why?”

“We’re going to meet someone.” Nico’s voice tightens with reluctance, as if he doesn’t want to give too much away, but Will already understands who they’re going to meet.

The son of Hades takes hold of Will’s wrist again and leads them up a set of stairs, despite the blond’s attempts at slowing them down. It appears that despite Nico’s lack of nutrition, he’s still able to drag Will along if he’s really into it.

“We’re meeting Percy and Annabeth?” Will asks, astonished. He almost trips over the next step as Nico’s pace quickens at the mention of their names.

When he doesn’t answer, Will knows he’s right. “Why them? I mean, I know they’ve been to Tartarus, but, like… so have you. What else do they need to tell you?”

“Well…,” Nico says, pulling them along to a flat floor. A corridor stares back at them, with doors standing on each side of the hallway. Harsh gray light flickers over the ceiling. He finally turns to Will. “It’s more like what they need to tell you.”

Nico releases his hold on his boyfriend’s wrist and walks forward, his feet pattering lightly against the floor. Will’s heart beats quickly in his chest, anxiety thrumming through his system. What are we here for? he wonders.

A little bit down the hallway, Nico stops and stares at a door. Under the gray lighting, his skin looks ashen and pale. Taking a deep breath, Nico raises a fist to the door and knocks.

Time stills as the boys wait for an answer. Nico slips his hand into Will’s and squeezes, then releases again. His skin feels feverishly warm against Will’s, bursting with anxiety. The blond frowns but says nothing.

After a moment, a click echoes in the hallway and the door swings open, throwing air around the boys. A tall figure looks down at them, his body slouching against the door tiredly, and Will is suddenly overcome with how much more different Percy looks.

His green eyes sparkle as mischievously as ever, churning with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. A large purple sweatshirt dangles over his body, the letters “SPQR” flashing across his chest in gold. His hair stands on end, frazzled and messy as if he’s just woken from a nap. In the lighting, his tan skin looks just as gray as Nico’s. A bored expression lingers over his face.

When he realizes it’s Will and Nico, he stands up straight. “Nico!” he exclaims. “Wow, I thought I’d be expecting you later.”

“Maybe you just slept in too much. You look exhausted.”

A tired smile sweeps over Percy’s mouth. “School hasn’t even started and I’m already missing out on sleep. Can’t wait for my classes to begin for real.” His eyes flit across Will. He tips his head in acknowledgement and moves away from the door. “You guys should come in.”

The air inside the room is a little cooler, fresh compared to the outside. Nico goes in first and Will follows, closing the door behind him.

For the most part, the room looks fairly neat. The blinds are drawn at the far side of the dorm room, only letting a little bit of light filter through. One bed stands against the far wall while another protrudes from a corner in the right. To the left of Will, a plain desk gleams; another one stands to the corner in the back. A bathroom and closet reside to the left, and a miniature kitchen protrudes from their right. Articles of clothing are piled up over the bed, which Will guesses are Percy’s.

“Nice place you’ve got,” Nico says carefully. Tension strangles the air, pulling the three together in an uncomfortable embrace. Will knows that, for the most part, Nico and Percy have improved their relationship. But looking at them now, with both their eyes trained on each other in an awkward stare, there’s still the rope of discomfort around them. They’re not completely sure how to act with each other.

A small part of Will relishes that discomfort. He knows Nico and Percy never really had a chance, but even then, he likes that he knows Nico better than the son of Poseidon. Maybe Percy is a huge, well-known hero who Will could probably never compare to, but at least there’s one thing Will can be better at than him, and that thing is being a better friend.

Almost as if he can sense Will’s thoughts, Percy smiles at Will. “Wow,” he says with astonishment. “Man, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. You look… tired. Everything okay with you guys?”

Well, Will thinks with annoyance, what a wonderful way to start a conversation.

Nico nods. “Is Annabeth coming?”

Just then, a knock echoes behind them. Percy grins. “That should be her.”

Annabeth peeps into the room, her blond curls flying as she pushes her head in. At the sight of Will and Nico, a nervous smile flickers over her features. She pushes through the door and steps over nervously. Tense silence wraps around the four demigods as they wait for everyone to get their places, prepared to act in this play of politeness.

“So,” Percy says, throwing an arm around Annabeth, “what is it that you guys are here for?”

Will snaps his eyes to Nico. He says nothing, but the message is clear: You haven’t told him?

Nico stares at him for only a second before he turns back to Percy. In a calm voice, he says, “It’s a matter of Tartarus.”

At the mention of the deathly place, both Percy and Annabeth flinch. The tan of their skin seeps out, spilling over the pale floor, and their eyes cloud over with fear. They’re looking past the boys, past the walls, traveling down into the fears, into the trauma.

“Tartarus?” Percy whispers, his voice threaded with fear and astonishment. “Why? Are you having dreams or something, Nico?”

Nico crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground, the gears in his head turning as he considers what to say next. “Yes,” he answers simply.

“Are you… looking for advice?” Annabeth inquires, edging a little closer to Nico. “Is everything alright? We thought you were going to Dionysus.”

Nico steps back from their gazes, his heart thrumming in his chest. He knew he’d have to tell them about his trip one day or another, and he supposes that now is the best time. Especially with how intense his dreams have become…

“I don’t need advice,” he promises, fixing Percy and Annabeth with what he hopes is a comforting look. Taking a deep breath, he admits, “Actually, I have to go down there again.”

For a moment, nothing happens. Time itself stills, pausing around all four demigods, tightening around them like coil. Percy and Annabeth stare at Nico as if they’ve never seen him before.

“Again?” Percy gasps. “What do you possibly need to do down there?”

Nico’s fingers clasp together in an attempt to ground himself. “Well, I’ve been having dreams. Someone keeps… calling my name. I think it may be Bob, but I can’t be sure. Whoever it is needs my help. I need to go down there again.”

Annabeth blinks. “You? Why you specifically? How come me and Percy haven’t been getting those voices?”

Nico shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. But I know that I need to go down there. Someone keeps calling it, and I would love to ignore it, but… they’re insistent. They want to get out. And I wouldn’t be a hero if I didn’t help them escape their torture.”

A feral look flashes in Percy’s eyes. His jaw clenches and he removes his arm from Annabeth. Stepping closer to Nico, he mutters, “You can’t. Do you know how dangerous that is, Nico? You went there alone and barely made it out alive. Me and Annabeth went there together and we barely made it out alive. How the fuck do you think you’re going to get in there and come back out alive for a second time?” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Dude, you cannot go down there again. No doubt you’ve suffered through enough trauma; you don’t think it’s going to mess up your mind even more? Annabeth and I had nightmares and flashbacks for months. We hadn’t been able to eat properly, or sleep, or just function.” He looks up and down at Nico. “And it seems like you haven’t either. You’re worse than I saw you before I left for New Rome. It’s not a good idea to go down there.”

As each of Percy’s words sink into Nico, irritation builds up in his skin. His nerves curl up and burst open again in rage. His jaw clenches. What right does Percy have to tell him how to act?

“I’m afraid it’s not your say in what I do or don’t,” Nico hisses. “Someone needs me, and I’m going to save them.” Unlike some people.

Annabeth steps forward, fear flashing in her eyes. “Then let us come with you! You can’t go down there on your own.” Then she blinks and snaps her head to Will. Her eyes widen. “No…,” she murmurs. “You’re going to take Will with you? Are you crazy?”

“He’s not taking me with him,” Will mutters defensively. “I’m choosing to go with him.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” says Nico matter-of-factly. “I need your help to convince him not to come.”

At his words, Will’s chest constricts with annoyance and betrayal. He thought they established that Nico isn’t going alone. But apparently this entire trip was just to try to convince him not to accompany him.

Will twists to his boyfriend. “What? After all we talked about, you’re still trying to get me to not come?”

A guilty look flashes in Nico’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Will, but I can’t risk it. You’re too important to me. I’m sorry I tricked you, but it’s not worth it for you to risk your life like this. The camp needs you.”

“And what? The camp doesn’t need you?” Will hisses. “You’re just as important. Gods, I just… I wish you would stop acting like you aren’t important. Like… like it doesn’t matter what happens to you.” He leans closer, his face bursting with red. “Because you know what, Nico? It does matter what happens to you. There are people who care about you. I care about you. You’re not going alone.”

“Actually,” chimes Percy, “neither of you are going. At least not without us.”

Nico turns on Percy, his fists shivering at his sides. “Don’t you act like you’re some savior, Percy. You may be older, but that gives you no right to act like you’re something to control our actions, like you’re supposed to protect us like we’re some kind of children. All I’m asking of you guys is to explain to Will that he shouldn’t come.”

“Why don’t I get a say if I get to come or not?” asks Will. “I’m my own person.”

Percy groans. “Why would we only say that to Will when you shouldn’t go either? Neither of you should be going!”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” growls Nico. “I asked for help.” Looking from Annabeth to Percy, he asks, “Will you help or not?”

Annabeth says, “Our only way of helping is by going with you.”

Nico groans. “You guys aren’t going. I’m not risking your lives either. Just… Can you explain to Will why he shouldn’t come?”

Will frowns. “Why can’t I? Why are you always insisting on doing something by yourself? You aren’t alone anymore, and you’re going to push me away?”

“Can you just… not? I’m trying to save your life and it’s getting really hard when you’re insisting to come with me.”

A wave of anger crashes into Will’s stomach and climbs all the way to the cliffs of his chest. His vision turns red. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nico, am I annoying you by saying I just want you to take care of yourself? Because if I am, just say so.”

An angry scowl curving over Nico’s features. “Yeah, you kind of are. How many times am I going to say it? I’m trying to protect you from certain death.”

“Why? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to go with you? That maybe I’m not as strong as any of the Big Three?”

Nico throws his head back as a harsh laugh escapes his throat. “Here we are again. Will, that’s exactly why I don’t want you to go - you’re insecure. Tartarus is going to use that against you. I don’t think you’re weak, and I never even said that. Your insecurities are the problem. Not to mention that it doesn’t matter if it’s your own choice to come with me; I’m still going to feel guilty if you die.” He scrubs a frustrated hand over his face and when he removes it, Will sees the pain in his eyes, the jab of guilt that’s been pressing against his conscience for days. “I don’t want you to die.”

“And that’s what I don’t want from you either!” cries Will. “Maybe I’m insecure, but I won’t be able to fix it any time soon. And you’re not okay either. But, Nico” - Will tangles his fingers with his boyfriend’s, spilling his warmth and kindness and heartache all into Nico’s bare palms - “we’re not going to be okay. No one is ever perfectly okay at any time. So don’t you think it’s even more important that someone go with you? Going together means that we’ll be there for each other; we’ll watch out for each other. Without you, I’m going to be worried sick; without me, you’re not going to have someone at your back. We ride or die together, just like we did with Nero. I don’t want to let you go on your own. You don’t need to.”

Nico’s chin quivers as he looks at Will, fighting hard to push back his tornado of emotions from destroying the room. “Will,” he whispers, but doesn’t say more.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t say that. You’re making me feel worse.”

“I’m still not leaving you.”

“Neither of you are leaving,” Percy interrupts. Will turns to him, only to find that in place of calming sea-green eyes, he’s met with emerald daggers. A scowl bends over Percy’s face. “Nico, you know how dangerous that is. You can’t leave without me and Annabeth.”

The softness that came over Nico just seconds ago vanishes away as he turns to Percy. He lets go of Will’s hands and steps towards the son of Poseidon. “Stop acting like that!” he exclaims. “You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you? Why can’t you understand this is important? I thought you were smarter than this, Percy. Aren’t you the kind to save friends from peril?”

“Yes,” Percy says, gritting his teeth. “That’s exactly it. If I let you go, I’m not saving you.”

“Well, you’re not saving Bob either.”

“He’s a Titan. He can handle himself.”

“He saved your lives!”

“And I’m grateful for that,” assures Percy. “Every day. But he’s still a Titan; he’s able to last down there longer than we can. Wait for me and Annabeth, and we’ll go with you. It’s like Will said - you aren’t alone anymore.”

Hot, acidic silence lingers over the air, tightening its hold over the four demigods. Nico and Percy stare each other down, and it’s almost like Annabeth and Will don’t even exist anymore; it’s only them, trying to win their own battles.

“No,” Nico says simply. “The more people, the more danger. Two people is enough.”

At his words, Will’s chest billows with relief. “Two? You mean I’m coming?”

Nico turns his head to Will and looks at him with reluctance. He says nothing of affirmation, but that’s all Will needs to know. He’s going, and this time Nico won’t stop him.

“No!” exclaims Percy. He steps closer to Nico, his body towering over the son of Hades like an indestructible wall. For a second, Will’s nervous that he’s going to hit Nico, but he stops just short of bumping chests. Anger burns bright in Nico’s eyes, but he doesn’t step back.

“No what?”

Nico’s looking up at Percy, staring him down despite the fact that he’s a few inches shorter. Tension sparks between them, bursting over everyone’s bare skin, and a sudden nervousness burns in Will’s core. The room is covered in gasoline, and with one spark of fire, Percy and Nico will blow up.

At first, Will thinks maybe it’s his own anxiety that makes the room feel like it’s shaking - but then Annabeth’s eyebrows jump in surprise and she takes Will’s wrist, edging the two of them to the door slowly. Realizing that it isn’t just him who can feel the quaking, Will wraps an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder in the hopes that it will keep them safe from whatever bomb detonates between the other two demigods.

“Guys,” Annabeth mutters. “Calm yourselves. You are both children of the Big Three - remember how much power both of you have.”

The room continues shaking; neither boy looks at Annabeth. Percy’s eyes swirl with spark with angry energy. Nico’s hands raise at his side while he pulls himself into a fighting stance. Percy’s hands linger at his thigh, fingering a pocket.

Behind Will, a gurgling sound thrums in the walls, and in the kitchen a tap turns on. Annabeth’s gray eyes flash with fear and Will pulls closer to her, anxiety stabbing him in the chest.

“Guys,” Annabeth insists, “stop it.”

Will has never seen Nico look so enraged. His entire face turns fiery red and his paled hands shake at his side. The ground continues shaking, grumbling more persistently under his feet, and he knows that if neither him or Annabeth stop this, there will be serious consequences.

“We need to pull them apart,” whispers Will, staring at the demigods nervously. “Break them out of whatever trance they’re in. Otherwise you’re gonna have to pay for damage if Nico starts bringing skeletons in here.”

Annabeth offers a firm nod. The blonds edge close to the walls as they tiptoe towards the two, their balance tested by the quaking in the room. Will reaches out and touches Nico’s inner wrist, rubbing his skin softly in an attempt to bring Nico back, to make him stop drowning in his irritation. His hands feel cold and angry; only power buzzes underneath his skin, and it vibrates down Will’s own body. He almost pulls away in fear that Nico will turn on him instead.

Nico blinks and shifts to look at Will. The rage that took over him just seconds ago melts away and gives way to daze; his dark eyes cloud over with emotion. Will pulls him back from Percy just as Annabeth places a hand over her own boyfriend’s shoulder.

For a moment, all is silent. The quaking simmers down and soon the water in the kitchen slows to a trickle. Percy and Nico continue glaring at each other, but at least they aren’t going after one another.

Percy’s face only betrays anger, resentment, but there’s something else behind his eyes: guilt. Despite how enraged he looks, a frustrated tear blooms across his eye and slips down the side of his face. Almost immediately all his frustration spills out of him and forms a puddle on the floor, leaving him only deflated and exhausted.

“Nico,” he says, his voice strangled with emotions, “you’re like a brother to me. I- I know we haven’t had the best relationship in the past, and neither of us treated each other well. Me especially. But… We’ve had time to fix it. Our relationship isn’t perfect, and it probably needs more time.

“But, please,” Percy continues, desperation trickling into his voice, “don’t do this. I… I can’t imagine losing you. Not after all that happened. Not after everything that you had to go through.”

Nico watches him speak, letting the words from his mouth seep into his ears and harden around his brain. A wave of emotions crashes into his chest and he has to squeeze Will’s hand just to make sure he’s still standing.

Silence lingers in the air again, making itself comfy in the gaps between all the demigods. It doesn’t move for a long while.

Nico’s eyes brim with tears, which flash in the dim lighting of the dorm room. Will takes his other hand and balances it behind Nico’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Two tears roll down Nico’s cheeks as he says, “I’m sorry, Percy, but I have to. I’m glad we got to be friends again, but you know I have to do this. You know more than anyone how important it is to be there for your friends.” He lets go of Will’s hand and steps forward. “I’m going to save my friend Bob. And you know what, Percy? You’re helping me as your friend. If you let me go, you’re helping me make the world better for someone.”

Percy shakes his head. “For one person, Nico? A person who is literally strong enough to survive hell? You’re going to risk your life for that?”

“I- I can’t explain it,” Nico mutters. “I just know he needs my help. If he’s not getting in your dreams, then it must be me.” Nico sighs shakily and another tear falls. “I just… need to do this. So let me do it. I’m no longer that helpless eleven-year-old boy you knew, Percy; I’m old enough to take care of myself. I have been for a long time.”

Percy and Annabeth turn to each other, both their eyes glazed over with pity and guilt. Their eyebrows jump and narrow at each other as if having a silent conversation. Then Annabeth turns to Nico and says, “Then be safe, Nico. And it’s not too late to take us with you. Give us the word, and we’ll come.”

Nico shakes his head. “I’m not risking more lives. And you guys deserve to have this break and enjoy your education.”

“But you deserve a calm year, too,” Annabeth says. “We can give this up if you need us to.”

Nico shakes his head again. “I’ve had time to heal. I’m not completely mended yet, but I’ve grown. You guys had to go right back into your real life and become one with reality again. You deserve just a chance to relax with each other. I’m going.”

Nico turns to Will and leans against his side. A burst of joy erupts in Will’s chest and he melts into his boyfriend, basking in his warmth. “Besides,” Nico says, offering a small smile to Will, “I’m going to have Will with me. He can shoot a mean gun. I think we’ll be alright.”

A doubtful expression flashes against Percy’s face. “You’re sure?”

Nico’s hand squeezes Will’s fingers, and for the first time in a while, confidence rises in Will’s heart. He feels seen knowing that Nico’s finally accepted he’s coming; he’s ensured that Nico doesn’t see him as just a healer, but also as someone who he can count on to come down with him to the depths of the Underworld.

Nico trusts him. He trusts him with his life and safety. There is nothing more honorable than knowing that, after years of losing people (whether by death or by distance), there is someone in his life who truly believes in Will. His face heats at the realization that Nico’s ready to let him watch his back.

Will hopes he doesn’t fail Nico.

Percy smiles hesitantly. “Alright. But, again, if you need anything before you go… Please, for the love of god, tell us. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to go down there for a second time.” He frowns. “When are you leaving anyway?”

“Probably in a few days,” Nico says. “Just need to get some supplies, then we’re going to meet Rachel in Paris and get a prophecy.”

Pery nods. “Okay.” His green eyes swim between Nico and Will, concern pooling in them. “Just… watch out for each other, okay? If either of you die, I’m killing you.”

Nico cracks a smile, the first one in a while. “We’ll try not to die.” Then he nods his head to Annabeth. “Thank you both for the help.”

Annabeth snorts. “What help? All we did was argue.”

“Well, it helped. Just accept the grace.”

Nico and Will step back to the door. The blond turns back to look at Percy and Annabeth, who are both watching the boys with politely concerned eyes.

He smiles. “We’ll see you later. Hopefully.”

And with that, Nico and Will leave the door and walk away, edging closer and closer to whatever doom lies in their future.

[thewildsophia]

.Art Project. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Van Gogh x Reader

Word Count: 2564

~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get the thought of the tiny Dutch artist out of your head. You weren’t even sure what about him it was that caught your attention. Perhaps it was his orange hair that almost looks red in the right lighting, or maybe his pale skin that mirrored the white bandages that you know he changes everyday (you also loved how his face would blossom with this gorgeous shade of orange-pink when he was complimented), or maybe it was just his hands. Yeah that was it. His hands, petite and delicate, that could paint such beautiful, exquisite paintings that told of many different things.

God you felt like such a creep. 

But you couldn’t help it. You were absolutely infatuated, -- no, that’s not quite right -- obsessed with him. 

And the worst part about it all was that the two of you have barely had any real interactions with each other. The last time the two of you had really talked was when you were assigned an art project with him. It was a collaborative project where you two were given a piece of art and two canvases and you would paint half the artwork on each canvas using styles and colors that were different, but still complimented the other half. 

You two had received the artwork The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, with you painting the man and Van Gogh painting the woman. You had used cooler colors -- blues, greens, grays and purples -- while Van Gogh used warmer ones -- reds, yellows, oranges and whites. You had focused most of the detail on the man, leaving the background somewhat barren with Van Gogh doing the opposite, focusing on the background and less on the woman.

It had actually turned out really well and the two of you had received a perfect grade, but what you liked the most about the whole thing was how much time you got to spend with him. 

You worked with him for a whole week and when the deadline was coming up he invited you to his dorm to finish it. You actually found it quite funny how much his room looked like The Bedroom, but you weren’t surprised. 

If you really thought about it, it was probably the second day when you started to become fascinated by him. The sketches had been completed and you two had just started painting. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t focus on your piece, intrigued by his painting. His strokes were quick, decisive, like he knew exactly what he wanted. It was difficult not to stare as he painted and you had barely gotten any work done that day. And he quickly picked up on your distracted state. 

“Is something the matter?” God that voice sounded just perfect to you. It was deep, but not too deep, and somewhat raspy, like he had a slight cold. You could listen to that voice for hours. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” You remember him asking. 

“Yeah.” You had answered, “I’ve just never seen you paint before. It’s beautiful.” After those words had left your mouth, that beautiful peach color blessed his pale skin and he looked away with a bashful smile. 

“I-Thank you.” He had stuttered and it was probably the cutest thing you had ever heard. You wanted to get him to do that more often. After that the two of you continued to work on your project with the occasional chatter between you. 

When the two of you had finished, you didn’t really talk to the other. You’d wave to each other in the hallways while transitioning classes or offer a quiet “Hey” when entering Painting II. What you did find a bit strange is that if you show up first, he’ll sit at the same table as you and vice-versa, and neither of you seemed to mind it. 

Actually, it kind of worked to your advantage. 

You really couldn’t help yourself and often found yourself drawing Van Gogh in your sketchbook, ranging from basic sketches to full on ink pieces (of course you’d ink them when you got back to your dorm). It’s actually gotten so bad lately that you now have completed paintings of him, whether it be acrylic, watercolor, oil, gouache, you name it and you probably have it. 

You were actually about half way through painting another piece of him, although you didn’t like this one as much as some of the others since he looked a bit too feminine. While painting, you heard a knock at your dorm’s door. You quickly looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite of a window. 

“It’s almost 10pm, why the hell is someone coming up here?” You thought before getting up and looking out the peephole in your door only to be greeted with nothing. You grumbled to yourself while opening the door just to make sure no one left something for you. 

Upon opening the door, you’re greeted with none other than the clone of Vincent Van Gogh himself, canvas and set of acrylics pinned at his side. You felt yourself straighten as you greeted him.

“Oh-Hey. It’s almost 10, are you alright? You need something?” You asked watching him shift his stance before answering, 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for coming by so late, I just needed a bit of help with the portrait project and you’re the only person I really felt comfortable coming to.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his. You felt your heart stutter at hearing that.

“It’s alright, what did you need help with specifically?” You asked leaning onto the door frame. 

“I’m having trouble with making a background that works with the subject.” He said. Weird. Backgrounds are usually his speciality. “Um, may I come in?” He asked. Your eyes widen slightly with realization of you forgetting to let him hit you.

“Of course! Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly, moving out of the way to let him in. 

“It’s fine.” He said. You closed the door before quickly jogging over to your desk, grabbing the still wet painting and placing it against the wall opposite the door, facing towards said wall. You cleared a spot on your desk for him to place his things. 

“Alright, let’s see what you got so far.” You said looking over his painting. 

You talked to him for about 15 minutes about how he could improve what he currently had before you got up to grab you painting to show him what you had done.

“That’s Frida Kahlo, right? If I remember correctly she’s from Mexican descent, so I would use brighter colors like greens, pinks and yellows.” You said while rustling with the huge stack of paintings you had looking for it. “I had gotten Aaron Douglas, so I stuck with more desaturated colors and focused less on details and more on the silhouettes of the subjects.” Once grabbing the painting you returned to Van Gogh, placing the painting onto the desk next to his.

Only…That wasn’t the right painting.

Nope, instead it was one of Van Gogh, specifically the one of him you had finished a few weeks ago of him looking at himself in a full-body mirror while painting a self portrait. You grabbed the painting, pressing it against your chest the moment you realized it was the wrong one. You stared at him a moment before turning around and scrounging around in the pile again for the right painting. 

“Y/N-” Van Gogh started, but you weren’t gonna let him finish. 

“Just! Give me a second.” You said, searching a bit faster. God seemed to be against you that night because when you started to look for it faster the whole stack fell and, of course, with it came the majority of paintings you had made of him. And…the painting of Douglas. 

You stood there a moment, feeling the sweat gather at your forehead and back of your neck. You grabbed the painting of Douglas before stacking all the other ones up. You turned back around, slowly walking back over to the desk and putting the right painting next to his. 

“So, um, like I was saying earlier…” But your voice died in your throat when you heard him speak.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. You felt yourself swallow thickly before looking over at him. “Come with me.” 

And you did. You really didn’t feel like arguing with him after what had just happened. He led you to his dorm room on the 3rd floor, unlocking it and gesturing for you to step in. You did before he closed the door and walked over to the corner of his room. He pulled out a bundle of canvas, separating them from each other. 

“You know, for the longest time I felt like such a creep doing this so often, but after seeing what you’ve been doing, I feel a lot less like one.” He said while revealing the paintings to you.

They were of you. They were all of you.

You felt your heart leap out of your chest as your eyes laid on the paintings. They were all different from the last, varying in size, color, style, much like your own. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since we were assigned that project together, ever since…you said that about my painting.” He started, “At first you were just a passing thought, but as time went on, you started to plague my mind more and more often to the point where I couldn’t get you off my mind.” He finished, that stunning peach color returning to his cheeks. 

You walked over to where he had the paintings spread out over his bed, running your fingers over the texture in the dried paint.

“Oh, Van Gogh, these are…” You started, still stunned about everything. 

“Not my best work, I know.” He said scratching the back of his neck, “It was a bit difficult painting you without having you here to reference.” He admitted. 

“No, Van Gogh, these are beautiful.” You said stroking your cheek, “And not just because they’re of me.” You added with a laugh, to which Van Gogh also let out a chuckle. 

The room then when quiet, neither of you having the courage to speak up until you decided the silence had lasted enough. 

“I don’t know what it is about you,” You started, “But you’ve captured my interest, and ever since I got to watch you paint that day I also haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” You paused, breathing in deeply. Well, it’s now or never you suppose. 

“Everytime I think of you, I can physically feel my chest tighten and I feel almost like I’m going to be sick, but in a good way.” You tried to explain, not meeting his light blue eyes once. “I’m not sure if this is what love is supposed to feel like, since I’ve never really been in love before, but…I know that I do like you. Like…really like you and…God, I don’t know what I’m saying; I’ve probably said too much.” You finish with a nervous chuckle. 

“No,” You heard him say, “You said just enough.” He grabbed your hand, making you look down at him.

“I’ve…I’ve never really been in love before either, but…I do know that I really enjoy being with you, even if we’re not talking to each other. Just being around you makes me happy. Hell, the whole point of me seeing you this late was just to see you.” Van Gogh looked up at you briefly before looking down at the ground. “Ah, I’m rambling. Look, my point is that I don’t know what it’s like to love someone, but I do know what it’s like to really like someone, and…I really like you.” He finishes, looking back up at you only to notice the glassiness of tears that clouded you e/c eyes.

“Oh, no, wait don’t start crying.” You heard him say, but you couldn’t stop the flow of tears that warmed your cheeks every so slightly. You collapsed onto your knees, embracing Van Gogh, soon feeling his arms wrap around you and the wetness of tears on the back of your shirt. You hugged him harder when you heard a sob rip from his chest, trying your best not to start sobbing yourself. After all, you didn’t look the most elegant when you cried. 

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours before finally pulling away from the other. You looked him in the eyes, rubbing away some of the stray tears that still remained on his cheeks. He returned the favor. 

“All this time,” he started, “I was so scared to tell you how I felt about you. Hell, I was scared to talk to you at all. I was so worried that I would mess things up between us that I decided to just stay silent.” He paused, sighing. “It’s…difficult for me to connect with people so…I don’t have many good friends. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” 

“I was scared too,” You admitted, “In all honesty, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me after we finished the project. I like being around you, so I was okay with just sitting near you in art.” You ran your hand through his orange hair, being mindful of his bandages. 

“I guess we're both kinda creeps.” You say after a minute. He smiles with a chuckle. 

“Yeah.” He whispers, “I guess we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Extended Ending: 

You let go of Van Gogh, allowing him to clear his bed and put the paintings away. He straightened his bed out, looking over at his own clock that read quarter til midnight. He turned to you, peach dusting his pale cheeks.

“Would you, um…” He stuttered, “Would you like to spend the night? I don’t mean like, you know, but just…sleep. It’s late, we have class in the morning and it’s a bit of a walk to your dorm.” He finished, gesturing to his bed. You blushed before smiling.

“I’d love to.” You answered. He smiled before opening the covers, patting the open space.

“Great! I-Um, I’ll get the lights.” He said, walking past you. You took your shoes off before climbing into his bed, moving all the way over to one side. He turned the light off, the room only being visible because of the moonlight coming through the curtains. You felt the bed shift, assuming Van Gogh had gotten in the bed with you. 

For a while, you both laid there stiffly, painfully aware of the other’s presence. You felt his eyes on you for a while before he spoke.

“Um…would it be alright if I…” He said, scooting closer to you. You did the same, until the two of you met in the center. You turned your body towards his and he did the same. The two of you simply stared at the other for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your neck. You, in turn, wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin upon his head. He pressed his face into your collar and you shuttered as you felt his breath on your neck. 

“This,” he started, “This is…” Leaving you to finish his sentence. 

“Nice.”