#this was originally just a one hour painting study

[nimscrem]

Sunset for two

[stealingpotatoes]

every year i think "there's no way I can draw as much as I did last year" and then then I make myself look like an idiot. ending 2023 with a genuinely disgusting number of arts this year:

anyway call me a tree bc i'm abt to get real sappy: thank you all so much for a genuinely INSANE year in terms of how much i drew, how much i improved, and how much LOVELY support i've gotten!!!!!!! like my followercount more than quadrupled from the start of the year and i just can't believe?? there's this many of u?? that like my art???????? dead on the floor i love you all SO much!!!! thank u!!!!!!!!

[raininyourblackeyes]

My cousin, a published writer, a well-known poet in my country and a literature professor, for whom I've always been no.1 support ever since her first attempts at writing in high school, told me that I must stop writing as a hobby because that's her thing and since I'm writing fantasy mostly my writing could never have any important artistic value anyways.

[thatonetargaryen]

Pretty in Pink

Ambessa x Reader

Part Two of: Pretty in Pink

Synopsis: Fear of the unknown weighs heavily on your mind as you are captured and taken by the enemy’s ruthless General—Ambessa Medarda. You are sure you will be destined for a life of pain and humility. You are pleasantly surprised, however, when you find out the General simply likes to see you pretty in pink.

cw; afab!reader; princess!reader; reader is drunk; mentions of alcohol consumption; not proofread; Ambessa being a lil infatuated with you; men and minors dni

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for original prompt. Hope you enjoy 🎀

Taglist:

@fruitfulfashion

@m-281

@ivorydevil

@lostintimeandmusic

@trizxyp

@pearldaisy

@sunnyvoodka

@ricejucie

@5675nnnnn245

……

The blaring sun was high in the sky as you practically stumbled off the ship. You squinted your eyes as you placed a hand over your eyes.

The fact that you were drunk off your ass was obvious to everyone watching. You reeked of ale and your hair was in a tangled mess. The guard escorting you off the ship kept a safe distance—in case you decided to throw up yesterday’s remains.

You and your three ladies-in-waiting finished three full bottle of Noxian ale that you stole from the top deck. Not knowing when you’d see each other again—you decided that you all would share one last drink. Well…more than a drink.

Despite the searing headache and vertigo you had—signs of a major hangover—for once in days, the last thing on your mind was where you were and why you were here. Right now, all you needed was a cold shower, a cup of hot tea, and a warm, comfortable bed.

Ambessa watched you from a distance as you stumbled off the ship. News from the guards that three bottles of ale were missing was brought to her in the wee hours of the morning. Now, the culprit—or culprits—were clear to her as they all drunkly attempted to hold themselves up. She didn’t know whether to be offended, angry, confused, or just plain amused. Or maybe all of the above.

One thing became clear to her through—pink was definitely your color. The light pink dress you wore complimented your skin and your e/c eyes. Your h/c hair, though messy and tangled, flowed down your back as your light skirts blew in the wind. The soft pink that tinted your cheeks added more fuel to her fire as she continued to study you. Maybe she could make them pink for an entirely different reason…

She shook her head, her grey coils moving effortlessly with her head as she tried to shake those thoughts from her head. She gestured to one her many servants waiting for her command. “See to it that she has comfortable quarters. Get her a bath…she desperately needs it.”

The servant nodded grimly. They walked over to you as you practically leaned on the guard beside you. She grabbed your forearm and pulled you towards her, “Please follow me, m’lady. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

You looked at her for a moment. A belch came from the depths of your throat, and you laughed as you held your chest. The servant grimaced and turned on her heel, not waiting for you to follow her.

You continued to quietly laugh as you were led into the castle by the servant. You studied it in awe as you gazed upon the intricate details and carvings of stone imbedded into it. Your castle was not even a quarter of its size. If it were grand from the outside—imagine how it looked on the inside.

You continued to looked at it as you mumbled under your breath, “Gods….”

…..

You could hear the servant in front of you audibly huff as you struggled to follow her. She was mumbling something inaudible, but you couldn’t make it out. Instead, you stared at the many hallways you passed in awe.

The hallways varied in colors—but they were limited to crimson, gold, and hints of silver. They were adorned in various paintings, statues, and sheer drapes with thick golden rope. There were hollow mannequins of armor, which scared the shit out of you when you first saw it when you walked in.

You stopped when you got to one painting after climbing a ridiculous mountain of stairs. It was one of the woman who took you, Ambessa Medarda. Behind her stood what had seemed like a younger version of herself, a young woman with dark brown kinky hair braided into a bun with striking green eyes. Beside her stood a young man slightly taller than her with short tendrils of black coils and full lips.

You stared at the picture for a moment, studying it, before slurring to the servant—“Who’s that?”

The servant stopped her hasty walking, and turned to you. With a mix of annoyance and hesitation, she walked over to you and looked at the painting you were talking about. She pursed her lips before speaking.

“It’s her lady with her two children, Kino and Mel Medarda. The painting was done years ago….”

You stared at it in awe, connecting the dots in your mind. “And where are they now?”

The servant was broken from her trance as she looked back at you and shook her head. “It would do you good not to pry in her lady’s business. Come on, you reek of ale.”

…..

The next few hours were a blur for you. You vaguely remember being thrown into a hot bath, being scrubbed from head to toe—even under your fingernails—and your hair being detangled, washed, and brushed. You remember your freshly washed and dried hair being braided into a loose braid down your back. A sheer nightgown was put onto your nude body, and they finally let you sleep.

The bed was like sleeping on clouds. It was luxurious compared to the one you had used on the ship. That hard, stiff mattress was long forgotten as you sunk into the cool, silk sheets. With a sigh, you were out like a light.

You woke up a few hours later. You yawned as you stretched your limbs and hummed as you took the time to appreciate the best sleep you had in days. You rubbed your eyes and breathed in the lavender lotion they smothered onto your body.

The door to your chambers was abruptly opened as a servant made their way into your room. No knocking, no ‘May I come in?’…..They just bombarded into your room.

Then again….this wasn’t really your room.

In her hand was a plethora of extravagant dresses. They practically engulfed her frame as she struggled to hold them, and she looked over the mountain of dresses to look at you.

“May I put these on your bed?”, she said, breathing heavily.

You shot up from the bed and made room for the dresses, “Of course. Help me help you.”

You took some of the dresses from her hand and carefully placed them on the bed. You stared at them in awe. Each one had a different design, some lighter than others, while some were heavier and more delicate than others. But they all had one thing in common.

They were all pink.

You looked to your right as the servant set the rest of the pink dresses down. “Who are all these dresses for?”

She gestured towards you. “They’re for you, m’lady. From her lady Medarda.”

Confusion made its way onto your face. Dresses? For you? And why are they all pink?

The servant broke you from your thoughts, “The lady Medarda wants to see you for tea. I’ll help you get on a robe and such.”

Your heart dropped at her words. The last person you wanted to see was that woman. You toyed with the cuffs of your nightgown as you spoke softly, “Now? Well, let me get ready and I’ll…”

“There’s no need. She said just the robe is fine.”

You grimaced, not feeling comfortable at being in her presence with just a robe and sheer nightgown. The servant threw the robe over your shoulders, and led you towards , or what you assumed to be, Ambessa’s quarters.

When you got there, there were no guards stationed at her door. The servant knocked and announced her and your presence through the grand double doors.

“Come in.”

The servant pushed open the doors. It was dark outside by now, and the only source of light in the room was the fireplace. The chamber itself was grand, grander than any you’d ever seen. It was probably twice as big as the one you were given, and the bed was huge and adorned with gold and crimson silks. Despite that, it looked as if hadn’t been slept in.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you entered the room. Ambessa Medarda sat at an intricately carved wooden table near the fireplace. She was adorned in a sheer crimson robe and you quickly darted your vision to avoid the sight of her visibly large chest. Her grey coils fell down her shoulders as she looked towards the servant. “Leave us”, she said sternly, leaving no room for argument. The servant slightly curtsied before scurrying out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Now it was just the two of you. The tension in the room was thick, and the fire did little to prevent sweat from collecting on your brow.

Ambessa gestured towards the char opposite from her, “Why don’t you sit, child?”

You sighed as you walked over to the chair. You took a hesitant seat as you studied the contents on the table. There were two porcelain tea cups that sat prettily on the table. In between the two sat a kettle. Ambessa leaned over the table and poured you a cup of tea, “This should help with the hangover.”

You froze at the mention of the hangover. How’d she know you were drunk? Stupid question. Everyone knew you were drunk earlier today, and the remnants of your hangover still weighed heavy in your mind as your head slightly spun. Your cheeks reddened at the mention of it, and you struggled to find your words. Instead, you muttered a small ‘Thank you’.

Ambessa chuckled at your reaction. She leaned back in her seat as she sipped her own tea. She set down the cup and looked towards you, “You know…if I were captured by an enemy—the last thing I’d think to do would be to get drunk. Stupid drunk at that.”

You stayed silent as she continued to speak, “And to steal not one—but three bottles of ale and think we wouldn’t notice. Bold, little one.”

You continued to stay silent as you took in her words. You slightly shook your head as you looked into your lap. “You wouldn’t understand….”

Ambessa’s grin faltered as she barely heard your words. “What?”

You looked up, but not into her face. “My ladies in waiting took the ale from the top deck and for that I apologize. But the fact that we got drunk, I cannot. I have known those ladies for as long as I can remember, and with everything that’s going on…we didn’t know if we’d see each other again. So we decided to have one last one with each other….the ale wasn’t really planned, though.”

Ambessa hummed as she poured another cup of tea. “Hm…How sentimental…..”

She looked up at you, her golden eyes burning into your face. “…but that ale is expensive, what if I had decided to punish you for it?”.

You looked her in the eyes right back. “Then it would’ve been worth it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. She looked as if she were searching for something in your gaze. Finally, you looked back down at your now cold tea as you took another sip.

“I wouldn’t have brought them here, y’know…”, Ambessa muttered softly.

You furrowed your brows, not catching her words, “Hmph?”

She spoke louder, her voice taking up the room, “I wouldn’t have brought those ladies here if I would not have let you see them. I brought them to be of company to you. Why would I bring them if not for you? I have enough servants kissing my arse already….”

You sat back, surprised at her words, though you ignored the last part. You nodded at her words as a small smile graced your lips at the gesture. “I appreciate that….”

She stared in awe at your soft smile, and bit the inside of her cheek as she nervously stirred her tea. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt like this about, well….anyone. She cleared her throat, “Did you like the dresses?”

You nodded. “They were very beautiful and, well….pink. Why are you doing all of this for me? My ladies, the beautiful room….and now the dresses. I love it all, but….”

You looked at her, and the moonlight from the window illuminated her face. She spoke softly, softer than you expected her to, “Princess, I didn’t bring you here for the intentions of hurting you, as you might’ve already concluded. The circumstances are…tragic, being given away to save you and your kingdom. But the main reason I wanted you was for a distraction. An escape from everything. The court, the nobles, the endless amount of work that I have yet to attend to, the wars, the treaties….it’s a lot. And it’s taken me years to admit that to myself. Now that I’ve finally faced the music and realized that it is all too much, I decided to take you in. I need someone to care for, someone to worry about not because I have to but because I want to. Someone to…dote on, to put it into simple terms. You’re a princess, after all, you should be used to it.”

Her words left you speechless. You felt a mixture of relief knowing you would be safe and not tourtured—but slightly confused on what being ‘doted’ on meant. You were a princess, yes, but being doted on by one of the richest women in the world was an entirely different thing.

You ran your hands over your thighs, now feeling a little more comfortable knowing her intentions. “So you’re basically going to pamper me?”.

She smiled at your words, “It’s more to it than being pampered, child. All of your needs will be taken care of, and anything you want I’ll try my best to get. Of course, you’ll need to carry yourself accordingly in front of the court and at gatherings—otherwise, I don’t ask much of you.”

You thought back on the elaborate dresses she bought for you, and you couldn’t help but ask, “Why pink?”

She shrugged her shoulders as she drunk the last of the tea, “Why not?”

……

The next few weeks were more than pleasant. You had become accustomed to your new life rather quickly. The constant pampering and gifts—who at first you thought were annoying—were now something you looked forward to. Dare say, even expected.

You had also gotten used to court life in Noxus. There was always something new, with rumors and gossip spreading like wildfire. The hottest topic seemed to be you at the moment.

The pretty princess ,Y/N, from a small, unknown kingdom—taken from her home as a sign of peace between Noxus and Castile. No one knows what Ambessa really uses you for, but every time they saw you, you were adorned in a beautiful pink gown and jewels worth whole manors. Whether the gown be simple and light, or daring and elegant—you never failed to look gorgeous.

The nobles didn’t really like you at first, not seeing much gain in becoming your ally. However, when you and Ambessa were once spotted having tea in the gardens, it seemed as if everyone wanted to become your friend. You gave them all tight lipped smiles and short greetings—knowing their true intentions.

Your relationship with Ambessa grew as well. The two of you would talk over breakfast or lunch, sharing the latest talk in court. As she got to know you better, you opened up about your past, and in turn, started rambling about her son Kino. Sometimes, you had to tune out her words and simply admire the structure of her face as her brows furrowed on the topic of her son. When she called you out on it, you denied it with a heavy blush on your face.

Your ladies started to notice the small thing you had for Ambessa, and started to tease you every chance they got. They’d make small jokes, or bump your shoulder when they caught you watching her train. You denied the allegations to no end, but you both knew there was something deeper than what was spoken.

One thing that couldn’t be denied was the blossoming of something new. Something that would last for years to come, and you both looked forward to it.

Your tough, sweet General, and her beautiful princess—pretty in pink.

……..

Hope you enjoyed. 🎀

I need ideas ��🏾

[nonsensical-pixels]

as anyone who knows me will know, my house is a zoo i am a sucker for small rodents, especially guinea pigs and hamsters. last year for my 17th birthday i shared these deco guinea pigs, so this year today, for my 18th, have the natural progression of that post: a 4t2 conversion of @kaisosims' rodents pack! 20 new, modular, decorative fur-baby items & accessories for your sims to adore 🥰

everything that could have fitted slots has slots; the hamster shelf, notably, has a grand total of 15! all of the cages are stackable, i.e.: you can put the animals (which are purely deco) in them, then stack them on top of any other surface--the given ones, or a counter, study table, etc.! more info can be found under the cut 👇

this set was originally supposed to be my... wow... 1000 followers and 17th birthday gift. but back then my cc skills honestly kinda sucked and the slots + transparency drove me to insanity. over a year, 1500 more followers, and a mental crisis later, here we are, with the final product of over 30 hours of hard work! 👏 in any case, thank you all so much for 2500 followers!

tysm to @skittlesplays for suggesting this set in the first place btw, you know me so well anna!! if you'd like to see my other, mechtasims pet set, which i converted in her honour, check out my 1000 followers gift weekend starting here.

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF 🐹

credits go to @kaisosims for the original ts4 meshes & textures, they are so adorable! and of course to all of you, for sticking with me through another birthday 💖

DESCRIPTION

Originally by Kaisosims for TS4. Converted to The Sims 2 by nonsensical-pixels.

THINGS TO NOTE

Pretty much everything that can have a slot, has a slot!

All cages can be placed on other surfaces, like tables, counters, etc.; if you want to place an animal inside of them, do that first, THEN place them on the surface.

Everything is decorative; nothing is functional… yet.

Art pieces are in the Paintings category, surfaces like the Cage Stand are in Surfaces -> Misc, and everything else is in General -> Pets.

You may note that some items have drastically different polycounts from the TS4 originals; this is because TS4 automates the appearance of backfaces, but TS2 doesn't recognise them, so I had to add my own.

ITEMS INCLUDED

Art (28 polys) Cage Stand (398 polys) Cleaning Supplies (424 polys) Ferret (682 polys) Food (100 polys) Guinea Pig (484 polys) Guinea Pig Enclosure (4356 polys) Guinea Pig Enclosure Top (1008 polys) Hamster (520 polys) Hamster Cage (1758 polys) Hamster Table (308 polys) Rat (456 polys) Rat Cage (2140 polys) Small Cage (988 polys) Substrate (144 polys) Treats (1876 polys) Tube (640 polys) Wood Wall Art (380 polys) Zoom Pet (341 polys)

20 items total. Collection file included for added convenience!

much love from my lil piggies: bethany, ivory, emily, and alex!! they're getting new cages for my birthday, just like my sims' piggies 🐽

once again, thank you guys all so much for the support! i wish i could've added more to this gift but i guess this weekend's content will be compensation... 👀 if there are any issues that you find with this set, please don't be afraid to let me know! otherwise, i'll see you in the next one. happy simming, and when you download this, do keep in mind,

Love, ~ Ky 💓

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[neiptune]

et nunc et semper

cw: NSFT, 3k+ wc, female reader, ancient rome au, slavery, mentions of violence, sexual exploitation, power imbalance, intercourse, fingering, reader has greek origins, sae is head of the most gorgeous domus and you, a slave, eventually become his favorite concubine. one that just so happens to fall in love with the person, other than his brother, sae confides in the most: his most trusted slave, oliver

Sae is a good dominus.

When his brother sold you to him, grown bored and easily irritated after so many years of service, you were expecting complete and utter disinterest at best. However, prepared just in case you wouldn’t be as lucky once more, you also braced yourself for the worse scenarios: corporal punishments, torture, sexual exploitation. Rin’s kindness had always rested in his complete indifference and when he announced you were to be sent away, you spent entire nights awake, praying his brother would be just as merciful.

Against all odds, however, Sae grew fond of you. As soon as he learned you were able to speak Greek, he summoned you to his tablinum. You knew being one of the most trusted advisors to the emperor came with immeasurable privileges and richness, something you were reminded each day you spent in that domus: not even Rin’s residency had as many elaborate marble decorations and paneling, grandiose paintings and a garden one could very well get lost in.

The tablinium is where very few slaves are allowed, only the ones Sae trusts enough to let into the room he receives his clients in. The first time you stepped inside, well aware of teal eyes studying your every movement, you tried not to appear too fascinated by the walls decorated with such rich fresco pictures, nor by the busts of the Itoshi family arranged on pedestals on the other end of the room.

However, you couldn’t help yourself. You were born a slave but your parents were not: your mother was Greek, could read and write, made it a point to teach you both Latin and her native language. Back then you thought you’d never get to see Piraeus firsthand, hence why you were so drawn to the unusual frescoes Sae chose for his study. Aesop’s fables, represented so beautifully you raised your hand with the intention of tracing outlines you wouldn’t even be allowed to observe in a different household.

“Read for me”, Sae said that afternoon, shaking you from your stupor. He pushed a scroll towards you and it was surprising to suddenly discover his interest in science and philosophy. You were there, standing by his chair for hours, reading Anaximander’s theories and studies out loud, until the room grew dark and your voice hoarse.

It became a daily appointment: each evening, you knew your master’s expectations was to find you in the tablinum right after dinner. Never one to sleep much, sometimes he’d keep you there the entire night, your voice the only sound in a household where slaves were barely allowed to speak if their master happened to be around. You read for him without eating, drinking or sleeping, and when the sun would rise you were simply sent back to your duties.

And then, suddenly, he started asking questions too. What did you think of Aristotle, Herodotus, Plutarch? Was his pronunciation beyond saving? When you switched to poetry, Sae allowed you to sit next to him, so that he could follow along, eyes focused on your finger as it grazed each verse, to make it easier for him. He scoffed at Aristophanes’ comedy, which you suspect was a way to hide actual amusement. He enjoyed Sophocles and his tragedies. Then, he enjoyed watching you, the first time you read lyric poetry for him.

“It’s supposed to be accompanied by music, isn’t it?”, he asked, eyes boring into yours. You just lowered your head further and apologized, briefly stated that you didn’t want to sing for him without asking for permission first. Sae granted that permission.

He started touching you, a gentle brush of the fingers at first, to make sure your hair didn’t hide your profile from him. He’d then grasp your chin and tilt your head back to make sure you looked at him while detailing your impressions over a piece you’d just read. You never grew tense under his touch, not even when he’d grab your jaw if your tone got too low or you paused to clear your throat in the middle of a sentence. You did whatever was expected of you. Let him part your legs and sneak a hand underneath your tunic, obeyed when he ordered you didn’t stop reading as he touched you.

Like his brother, Sae grows restless easily and your submissive nature ended up irritating him. You were a little too unfazed, a little too good at carrying on, as if he wasn’t making a wet mess of you with his expert dexterity.

And so he ordered you’d kiss him, crawled onto his lap with your legs spread wide open for him, gasped and moaned and whined into his mouth. Loud, for all to hear. He wasn’t rough, perhaps it was the most gentle you’d ever been touched by a man, by a dominus. He’d take you right there, on his lap, on the table, on the floor. With time, you learned what he liked. On some days, you were allowed boldness: whispers to his ear of how good he felt, how much you desired him, more than any other man as no one could ever compare. Your fingers would card through his hair and pull at the soft strands right as he throbbed inside you, buried so deep you felt him in your throat as tears he’d lick away stained your cheeks. You’d keep your nails clean for he liked it when you scratched his back, you’d gently bite the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

And then, on some other days, you’d let him use you as he pleased, mouth shut, legs parted. He’d be stressed, angry, sometimes too irritated by either his marriage or matters of politics you’d never understand. You were always there for him, far from being the only slave he fucked, but certainly an interesting exception Sae didn’t want to get rid of and instead kept by his side most nights, in his personal bedroom, arms around your body pressed close to his as he softly asked you’d speak to him in your language.

You thought you could fall in love with him, you really did. He’d bring you with him on his travels and you’d find yourself missing him whenever he’d be back to his main residence, where his wife was. Where his children were. Sae would always come back with gifts, still does, and you know his affection has never been less than sincere. Being his favorite concubine means being draped in a cloak of newfound protectiveness, it means being owned social respect. It means being special. He sees you as more than a slave kept as sexual luxury, he cares about you. Wouldn’t that be enough to make a woman fall in love?

And then, one day, Sae came back and brought his most trusted servant with him. One you had never met before.

While you’d occasionally be with him during journeys or whenever he’d retreat to his country house for a couple of weeks during the summer, Oliver was always by Sae’s side. His mother was Sae and Rin’s father’s slave, he was born in their household and is Sae’s domestic worker. Oliver carries out a range of duties: cleans, prepares food in the kitchens, delivers missives. He’s probably the man, other than his own brother, Sae trusts the most in this life. They have a relationship intimate enough for him to keep Oliver as a secretary and an accountant too. He was the one asking his father to pay for a slave’s education, to make sure he could serve him better. You can imagine the affection he has for Oliver runs deep enough to grant him freedom from ownership, one day.

It was your demise and greatest stroke of luck. You never in a million years could’ve imagined how frail the equilibrium you were relying on was, a crimson thread mercilessly severed by a single touch of his fingers. It was desperate, the way you were drawn to him. When he talks, when he looks at you, you feel like a person and not a possession. A dangerous thought to have, and yet.

The days spent helping him in the kitchens, in the garden, the afternoons you’d catch glimpses of him laughing with other servants, all the times you were forced to be on Sae’s lap while he sat across from you, detailing the latest information about his most pressing affairs, eyes only daring searching yours when your master would be deeply focused on a document or a letter. Oliver had such a way of carrying himself, with a dignity you’d never seen in a slave. He wore a perpetual mask of neutral detachment with his master but when Sae would leave, on the fortunate occasions when he wouldn’t be around and all the eyes and ears of the residency could be considered far enough to grant you enough intimacy, Oliver could drop the act his life depended on.

He’s smart, curious by nature. Speaks Greek with a better accent than your master’s and yet still comically distorts some words, which makes you laugh. He’s knowledgeable about horticulture and spends hours curating the gardens surrounded by the peristylium each day, you’d often observe him from the patio as he tended to violets, saffron, thyme, rosemary, carnations. With expert hands that would leave no place for doubt should another slave or the master himself have noticed, he once plucked a rose and bowed as he offered it to you. A slave bowing to another slave. It made your heart flutter.

You hated yourself for desiring him, not because your mere existence revolved around the axiom of any individual desire being forever forbidden, but because your selfishness could cost him much more than his freedom. If Sae so much as imagined Oliver touching you, he could’ve claimed his life and yours with a light snap of the fingers. 

You didn’t care about your life, not really, but his held so much value. He was about to be freed, there was too much at stake for you to ruin everything.

Oliver is infuriating and stubborn, any attempt at avoiding him went up in smoke as he was just as desperately drawn to you and refused to give up on the one thing he ever wished for himself. Whatever he would do of his freedom with no one to share it with. You had insinuated yourself in his heart like dripping water that hollows out stone and for once in his life he, a person who wasn’t allowed to own anything but his feelings, felt alive.

And yet, he waited, persistence confined by respectful boundaries Oliver never once forced you to cross. He waited, exasperating, confident, beautiful in a way that made you wish there were marble statues and saturnalia dedicated to him. In a way that made Sae dull, someone you couldn’t hold anything but gratitude and affection for. A man you could never love the way you loved Oliver, a man you’d never kiss for the first time on your own accord, brief and sweet in the middle of the night, by the kitchen. You remember his eyes and how dangerously beautiful the moonlight reflected in them was, how searing the second touch of his lips felt against yours, the way he’d silently asked for permission he didn’t need, the uncertainty swarming in those eyes almost bringing you to tears.

You didn’t know what being asked for consent meant and you had no idea what choosing to lie with a man would do, how different the pleasure would feel. Despite being uncomfortably taken against the wall, it was the first time you ejoyed sex. Even on exceptional days when Sae would care about your pleasure too, it always felt like making you finish was a stubborn challenge he’d test himself with. Another proof of his ability, void of any sincere care.

Oliver was different. He strokes your skin with genuine tenderness, never chases his own high without making sure you’re feeling good too, without being absolutely certain he isn’t hurting you somehow, or being unintentionally too rough. Some nights he’d drop to his knees, a servant serving you, making you fall apart on his tongue without ever looking away from your face, so beautiful when contorted in pleasure. He’d catch you when you wouldn’t be able to stand any longer, gently lay your trembling body on the hard ground and push your tunic further up, to be able to still look at you before diving in once more. He wouldn’t ask for anything more on those nights, kissing your palm tenderly when you offered to grant him relief too.

“Get some rest”, he’d whisper against your lips before leaving you cold and alone once more. 

Neither of you expected Sae to free you first.

One day, he’d summoned you to the triclinium, the magnificent dining room where he receives his illustrious guests. Oliver was there, standing by the entrance, expression neutral and eyes never daring finding yours. Rin was there too, reclined on his left side on soft cushions while other slaves served him courses of fruits and warm, sweet wine.

“Lie with me”, Sae’s order surprised you: it wasn’t rare for him to keep you close in front of clients, friends or other servants but members of his family were his only drawn line. Obedient, you positioned yourself in front of him, propped on one elbow on the same couch. 

“She’s worth much more than the amount I paid you, brother”, he murmured into your skin, one hand lazily pushing your tunic to your hips.

Oliver’s love had changed you. Made Sae’s touch intolerable, newfound feelings of guilt and shame churning in the pit of your stomach for the very first time. You didn’t wish for his fingers to explore your skin, you didn’t want Rin to watch, or worse, claim his own fair share.

“What, just because you made her your Greek whore?”, the mockery, for the first time, hurts you. These feelings could get you killed.

“Be respectful of my Greek whore”, Sae buried his face into the crook of your neck and you stayed frozen, “she’s also my liberta, now”.

Your breath hitched in your throat and he chuckled, pulling you possessively against him with an arm around your waist. A liberta. A freedwoman.  

Rin’s scoff didn’t faze you.

“Look at me”, Sae’s grasp on your throat burned as he tilted your head backwards and spoke against your mouth, “you are free. I wish to keep you with me as your patronus. Will you stay?”.

For a moment, you feared you might not be able to speak, too overwhelmed by feelings interlaced within you like both ribbons and snakes.

“You honor me”, you were finally able to whisper.

In a way, this was everything you could ever wish for and the worst thing to ever happen to you. It was perfectly clear what being freed meant: you would forever owe him eternal gratutide and reverence. He made sure you’d remain in a legally defined position of obligation for your entire life, a bond that would last forever. You had never felt more trapped.

“Oliver, serve some wine to your mistress”, Sae’s gaze never left yours as he quietly ordered. Your heart squeezed painfully as you kissed him, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on your patron and nothing else.

Now, on nights like this, when you lie tangled in warm sheets with your lover, you’re even more dreadfully aware of what’s at stake. His freedom, your freedom. Both your heads, probably.

This bedroom in Sae’s domus now belongs to you, along with all the valuable possessions within it. He provides financially for you and finally grants your most intimate moments their due privateness. His slaves are your slaves, you are free to wander around the house as you please, accompany him publicly for everyone to see. Rin once said he’d never seen him treat his own wife with such devotion and Sae simply pulled you closer in response.

“This one’s different”.

He loves you, you know he does. When you read for him the world stops, Rome and perhaps the entire empire dissipating into thin smoke. His own dimension ruled by your voice alone, eyes shut when the pads of your gentle fingers explore him, lips he would start wars for.

But all that ceases to exist when you’re in Oliver’s arms, his nose grazing your neck, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating in a chest pressed to yours.

“Does he hurt you?”, you ask and he peels his weight away from your body, propping himself on one elbow by your side instead.

“No”, he replies quietly and smiles when you reach to grab his other arm and place it around your waist. You then hum, fingers tracing scars you’re familiar with. Faded marks on his chest, his back, his shoulder and arm. Oliver’s gaze softens at your unspoken worry.

“His father”, is the explanation he offers, “Sae never touched me”. His thumb starts stroking the skin above your hip and you sigh, relieved, melting into him like you always do.

“Does he ever hurt you?”, the question makes you chuckle but Oliver is serious, scowl getting deeper.

“No”.

“Does it feel good? Does it feel the same?”.

His hand disappears underneath the sheets and you jolt weakly against him when knuckles graze your bare skin before fingers start collecting the slick that still trickles out of your spent hole. You take his face in your hands and pull him closer to make sure he looks at you, not wanting your next words to sound as if you’re only speaking under the effect of the pleasure he’s providing.

“Never. It could never-”, a gasp when he dips one finger inside you, “it will never”.

For the following minutes, the only sounds in the room are your soft whimpers against his mouth and the increasingly wet, lewd noises produced by his fingers, the increasingly restless roll of your hips barely able to meet movements that drive you insane.

“I love you”, he murmurs, a low groan bubbling up from his throat when he curls his fingers and you see stars, muffle a moan into his neck, one hand closing around his wrist and nails digging into his skin. You’re still shaking when he pulls you into his chest, brings one of your legs around his hips. There’s a familiar hardness pressing against you and you tentatively rub yourself against it, face hidden into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“I will buy you”, you whisper, “I will buy you from him and set you free”.

Oliver stills your movements with a gentle hold of your hips, his other hand stroking the small of your back. Having you close is, once more, enough.

“He will never sell me”.

“Then you should stop seeing me. He will grant you freedom one day but if he ever finds out…”.

“What an absurd suggestion”, a quiet laugh shakes him, “giving up on the one thing that gives my life meaning at all”.

“He’ll take your life, Oliver. You could die because of me”.

“Then so be it. I would die after having lived”.

You pull back and meet his only half playful gaze.

“Don’t mock me. And don’t you dare leave me alone in this life”.

“Is that a request or an order, mistress?”.

Your groan elicits a chuckle. Oliver kisses the crown of your head, wraps his fingers in your hair.

“He owns my freedom, everything else is yours. I don’t fear punishment, only an existence void of you”, he speaks in Greek, attentively, and your heart throbs painfully once more. You kiss him, soft and gentle, then decide to be just as playful while your thumb delicately grazes the portion of skin underneath his eye.

“Really?”, you also ask in Greek, “I heard rumors of his wife requesting to lie with you. Does that feel the same?”.

He offers a boyish smile, gently bumping his forehead against yours.

“You’re ridiculous”.

“Not a very convincing answer”.

Oliver sighs.

“It feels like nothing, woman”.

You hum, feigning pensiveness.

“They say she’s beautiful”.

“She is”.

“Just so you know, this conversation is not going well for you”.

Oliver chuckles, lowers his head to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He stays here, lips brushing against yours, in hopes you’ll swallow his next words and let them take root in every crevice of your body. Maybe then you’ll believe him.

“Aphrodite herself wouldn’t be a match for you”.

“Flatterer”, you whisper, amused. It’s not lost on you, the way he intentionally used her Greek name instead of naming her Roman counterpart, Venus.

Oliver smiles, taking a second to observe features already carved into his very soul. He cups your cheek and thinks he wouldn’t mind dying like this, with you turning your head enough to press your lips to his wrist, eyes softened by sincere adoration.

“In love”, he corrects.

[loustica-lucia]

Heroes of the Dragon Age

An animation I've made for Dragon Age Day 2023, featuring my main Warden (Alyssa Cousland-Theirin), Hawke (Eleena Amell Hawke) and Inquisitor (Sulevin Lavellan)!

It's to this day one of my best artwork and I thought I should share it here too! 90+ hours between the original sketch, outfit design, the rough animation, rotoscope, inking, flat-colours, background shading and even the audio :')

Interested in the process? I detailed it below since it was my first time doing something like that:

I would like to start by saying I'm not a professional animator!Everything you've seen here is the result of experimentation and a lot of practice to learn and understand how 2D animation works.

My first idea started in May 2023. I just finished rewatching DA Absolution for the X time, and wanted to analyse why I loved the intro so much. (Even after countless rewatch, I never skipped it once.) I was inspired to study it with my main three protagonists!

Then came the first test with Alyssa Cousland-Theirin, my Hero of Ferelden! I tried to understand which part to separate for the animation. Mainly the hair and cape because it flows a lot more than the rest! If I recall, my first idea here was to make her counter flame attacks (?). Then, as the camera turns around her, I tried to add a grid to know how the camera would work around it.

I ended up making the clip longer, so she could position herself to the further left and leave space to the two other protagonists.

Now it was time to try to animate Sulevin Lavellan, my Inquisitor. I really kept that quick doodling style just to capture the vibe without putting too much time/effort into it! The background would be static to contrast with Alyssa's. I also loved the idea of a rogue sneaking!

Instead of working on Eleena Amell Hawke, my Champion of Kirkwall, I went back to Alyssa and started working with Clip Studio Paint 3D models (this entire animation has been done on the EX version of the software!) It helped for rotoscope animation and maintaining likeness! That's when I got the idea to make the background swirl around the character to let the eyes be guided by the rest of the screen!

After a couple more hours, I planned the entire animatic with 3D models and quick doodles! I finally found a cool pose for Eleena Hawke, which was honestly the hardest of the three to imagine for some reason? I tried many other poses but ended up picking an animation from the game!

This whole time, I was studying a bunch of background ideas and how studio Red Dog Culture House (who made Absolution) work! Thankfully, they have a YouTube Channel where they shared some BTS content so I could analyse it!

Then, I simplified my character and their original designs in the style of the studio! These outfits are how I imagine them after Trespasser. Alyssa as the Queen of Ferelden, looking for a cure to the Calling, Hawke following Fenris to Tevinter & Sully as a Red Jenny Inquisitor!

The idea for Sulevin's animation actually came from a piece I doodled on a live stream, when I was drawing pose studies and turning them into finished artworks haha As for Alyssa, I wanted to draw the fight that got her facial scars!

Once their designs were ready and the background ideas too, I made the rough version of the animation! Basically a sketch done on top of the 3D models to add the details, staying pretty rough just to capture the idea and movements.

Then it was time to start the lines! I decided make a folder per frame, so I could separate all he main elements and draw them one by one. It helps keeping the likeness of a character in the different frames without having big "jumps" between frames! In fact, every parts were coloured differently to recognize them, and then I used vector erasers and masks (Ah yes, the entire lineart is done in vectors of course! It's easier to adjust and save time when working on similar frames!)

At first of course, everything overlaps! But I find it easier to draw too much and erase after, just to make sure everything is coherent in each frames! The cool thing about CSP is how you can change the colour of the layers in one click! So all the coloured lines turned into black in one second, and I could reverse it just as quickly to double check!

Then I started working on Sulevin! I made a blue line to mark where her feet were, as the sketch in the background wasn't perfectly straight! (Like Sulevin's sexuality 🤭😂) The silhouettes were very quick to do, but I had fun adding more & more details as she came closer to the foreground!

I really wanted to add that little dagger trick, but I remember it required me to change the pacing of Eleena's apparition, as it was recovering her arm too quickly! I had to change the pace of multiple frames quite a lot during the project, to make sure the flow was right! For Eleena, most of her animation remained around her arms and the staff itself, as magic would be the most difficult part! That way each character has their own focus: Alyssa has a very animated background, Sulevin got the grappling hook and Eleena the ice!

Then it was time to start adding colours! Just like for the lineart, I separated every colour on it's own layer, so I could easily adjust the colours later if needed. I added one colour at the time, going through all the frames, and then another colour!

I made full palette tests with the colours I would use for their background at this point, checking if the details remained readable! Alyssa was the most challenging in terms of clothes, because I made her a very detailled armour! I had to simplify the Theirin heraldry, vectorize/redraw the Cousland, and make a brush for her cape's pattern!

Once I was done adding the flatcolours, I started the background, and oh boy it was a wild ride. For the cave, I painted multiple tests. I imagine was to use CSP panorama tools, which transform a texture into a 3D sphere, so each corners must match to look good. Sadly, it made the background very blurry, so after hours of testing, I changed ideas. Instead of the random fire balls (?) I originally imagined for Alyssa, I made three simple frames of a Rage Demon to attack her.

I ended up using the cave as a repeated pattern to make it turn 360° around the character. For Eleena, I mixed inspiration from the comics, Dreadwolf & Absolution, using warm colours matching Hawke's signature red. Just like I made the cave very grey/blue to match Grey Wardens. For Val Royeaux, it was more complex because I wanted to make it green, matching the Inquisitor's signature green. But bright green couldn't work, and the original colour during day time was blue/white/gold. So I added more leaves, played around the design a bit! After adding the rage demon, I made the shading! It was surprisingly easy and quick to do now!

I clipped a white layer on the flatcolours to not be distracted by the colours, and made thin lines to separate the light/shadows, then simply filled everything with the bucket tool! Then you set the layer to multiply and remove the white layer, and you have celshading shadows! Now the character looks out of the picture, so I added layers of blue in color burn, saturation and substract blending modes to make her look like she's in the right setting! Of course, I did the same with the other two, giving Hawke a red overlay and Sulevin green shadows!

Then I added the details, it went from white irises, to sword/staff smears to earrings and smaller finition that goes on top of these layers. To add the lights, I simply selected the shadows and reversed the selection! Using warm and cold tones to create contrast with the purple/bluish shadows! I also added more ambient light layers for Alyssa to reflect the Rage Demon fire. Now it was time to add ice magic! My first attempt had too many frames, making it look weird! Sometimes it's better to lower the frame rate to make things less bumpy!

Then I downloaded some cool ice brushes on CSP assets that made it look less like blue magical flames! But when I covered the screen in ice, I realized "Oh wait, I could make a cool transition from the ice, to blue lyrium turning red?"Red Lyrium truly links these three games and The Veilguard somehow! I spent the next hour painting over the idol and putting it in a black background, with lyrium and then the golden Dragon Age title text.

For the SFX, I used free youtube libraries sounds & "Darkspawn!" comes from the violent human female voice set (iconic for ""Can I get you a ladder? So you can get off my back!"😂🤭) After editing all that, the animation was finally done!

Here's the final math:

About 15 hours for the sketching/rough/animatic phase, 30h for the lineart, 25h for colours, 10h for backgrounds, 5h for details & 5h for music & SFX, for a total of 90 hours. Aka the same amount of time it took me to finish Baldur's Gate 3 the first time lol

If you have any question regarding the animation or the softwares etc. do not hesitate to ask, I'll do my best to answer!

[strvngeweather]

It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him.  “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag.  “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend.  You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger).  “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

[ne-nene-ne]

♡ How to gain the dragon's affection ♡

-> things you can do to make this handsome fae weak in the knees

malleus x reader (fluff!)

Wear or carry the things he's gifted you!

Whether it's a necklace, bracelet, or even a mini gargoyle statue, have it on you! Malleus will beam with pride when he sees it on your person. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person, so he'd love seeing you dressed in the things that he, himself has chosen and gifted you.

Indulge him in his passion for exploring ruins and his love for gargoyles!

If you show even the tiniest bit of interest in gargoyles or ruin exploring, you will see Malleus' eyes light up immediately and he will begin talking about it for hours. Please allow him to do so. Not many share his passion or are interested in these types of things (if at all), please listen to him ramble on. Heck, join the Gargoyle Studies Club! Give this dude some company because he's pretty much the only member there. 😭 And look, he's aware that not everyone is interested in the same things he is, but if you at least put in the effort to listen and try to understand, he'd be a happy fae

Include him in your activities!

We already know how much of a complex he has towards being invited/uninvited, so if you constantly make it a point to include him in whatever you're doing, he will feel loved. I don't think he'd be picky about what kind of activity you'd be doing. He'd be open-minded to whatever it is. In fact, he'd try to find possible ways to make it easier on you if it's a difficult task. If it's an artsy/creative activity, like painting, there's a chance he'll either be pretty good at it at first try, or he'll end up making a bit of a mess. I also don't think he'd mind much of this either, even if he did end up looking silly. He would laugh it off heartily and probably be like, "How interesting...!" He's curious about your ways and is very much willing to learn. His adoration for you will just increase if you try to teach him

Help him raise his tamagotchi!

He absolutely loves his Roaring Drago and so if you offer to help him "raise" it or offer to watch over it whenever he's busy, he'll fall more in love with you. Not only will he feel closer to you as you both nurture the little creature, he might even begin to see a future with you and your own little ones (if you ever had that in mind) and oh, how he knows how much he'd love that life dearly if it was spent with you.

Share that full-sized cake with him!

This one is oddly specific but as seen in his profile, Malleus dislikes full-sized cakes because he tried eating one entirely by himself 😅 (ofc he wouldn't feel great afterwards). You might be met with a resistant attitude or sour face from him (out of instinct) when you bring out that whole cake, but show him that it isn't as bad as he thinks when he shares it with someone. Maybe he'll like it! And if he doesn't, well then you guys can smear the leftovers on each other's faces and have a bit of fun!

This poor boy has just been left out on a lot. Make him feel welcomed, wanted, and loved and he will adore you forever 🥺❤️

a/n: not really proofread tbh but it was a fun one! I might just turn this into a series and do the same for other twst charas. I'm thinking of Azul or Leona next, hmm

And OKAY so I originally posted this on @lyneira (my brand new writing blog) but my posts on there aren't showing up in the tags yet so I guess I'll still be posting some of my writing here until tumblr allows them to be seen 😭 somebody pls interact with my new blog so that tumblr doesn't think I'm a bot 😔

[moonstrider9904]

All good things start with coffee

Chapter 1 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter

Chapter summary: On an otherwise typical day, the owners of the Coffeewick can't help but notice an enforcer standing guard outside their coffee shop.

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing. Just a cute intro chapter.

Word count: 4.4k

On the corner of Alpine Road and Reverie Lane, on the northwestern quadrant of the intersection, there was a lovely building called The Coffeewick. It had been named by its owner long before she had even laid eyes on it, long before she—and her trusted business partner—turned it into the staple it became. Before them, the building that would go on to become the Coffeewick was already a catch. With its front facing south, it overlooked Bonan Plaza, one of Piltover city’s most renowned parks filled with trees bursting with life, benches to sit and enjoy life, fountains, even monuments to some of the City of Progress’ brightest minds. Shops, boutiques, even some apartment complexes were in the area, and before it became filled with life, the Coffeewick didn’t really fit into any of these categories. It was a little building that stood there, right on the corner, that could amount to anything.

When looking at the Coffeewick between its neighboring buildings, it certainly looked small. It had merely two stories—two apartments in the top story, each with one bedroom, a small kitchen and restroom and just enough room to make it the coziest home one could conceive. The roof of the Coffeewick wasn’t regularly used for anything other than the greenhouse, a valuable asset to those who lived in the little building, and in the remaining space of the rooftop where chairs and a table, and a series of warm fairy lights above the makeshift outdoor living room for the nights in which the Coffeewick’s two residents would decide to spend some time up there. The rooftop rarely saw the presence of outsiders.

But the ground level of the Coffeewick was the crown jewel, the dream that had been given hours of work and planning and love until it became a reality. It was a cute little coffee shop run by a human woman and a Yordle, both avidly passionate about their place in the world. The walls were a light cream color, creating a fitting canvas for the decor placed around it, mainly revolving around delicate green foliage and the same warm fairy lights wherever they could be placed, from the dark oak furniture to the edges where the walls met the ceiling, even flower pots dangling from the roof. Shelves were placed along the back wall where both owners kept a collection of their favorite cups, and at times, they added seasonal plants and decorations there as well.

These shelves, of course, ended where the counter began, the same place that originated the magic—and science—of the brewery. The counter was of the same dark oak as the shelves, tables, and chairs, contrasting with the floor that was a wood of a slightly lighter tone, balancing out the roof and delightfully bringing out the green plants and the lights, as though to emphasize the life that the Coffeewick had, that was breathed into it. The outer face of the counter was simple, with an intuitive sequence where a visitor would arrive, order, pay, and receive their heart’s desire.

But at the back, the main attraction was the coffee machine, designed and perfected by the owner herself throughout years of study, capable of brewing coffee in different volumes, temperatures, and consistencies, roasting and grinding beans, and it also contained an attaché for frothing milk. The machine itself took up almost half of the space along the back wall of the counter, after which there was an assortment of utensils, a small oven, a rack of syrups, sugars, and spices, followed by pastry racks, and finally a refrigerator. The logo of the Coffeewick was painted on the empty wall space above all the equipment, and above it was a hand-written menu on a chalkboard containing all the different beverages that were available for purchase as well as any pastries that would be available for the day. The menu had doodles of flowers and stars in any empty spaces, just for the sake of a little more magic.

The owner and head barista of the Coffeewick smiled gently as she poured steamed milk into a mug to create a piece of art with the drink she’d just brewed. A graduate of the prestigious Piltover Academy, Nea had dedicated years of study into the arts and sciences of coffee. What had started as a simple beverage to cope with long periods of school work evolved into the little thing that made life most enjoyable, and Nea harnessed her knowledge and dedication into designs, money saved, even the construction of the coffee maker that made all the beverages in the Coffeewick. While it was her dream and her vision, Nea hadn’t solidified the Coffeewick entirely on her own.

Nea’s partner, Blu, was a Yordle shorter than most and with the feisty spirit that was signature for her species. The little Yordle was well over a hundred years old, and she had seen many things in her time in the Yordle homeland known as Bandle City, from magical dreamscapes to portal catastrophes. A century of being a knitter and a tidal wave of adventures that followed made Blu long for seeing more around Runeterra, and when she parted for Piltover, she had nearly nothing to her name, and no hopes of amounting to anything in the near future. That had changed when she met Nea.

On that fairly typical day, while Nea focused on brewing the drinks that the customers were ordering, Blu exited the back room of the Coffeewick holding a tray of fresh pastries. She placed it on the pastry rack at the back of the counter and glanced over at Nea on the other side.

“This batch of Poro Cookies is the last one of the day,” Blu called.

With her concentration unbroken, Nea nodded in understanding at Blu’s statement. Making the appropriate twisting motions with her wrist as she poured the milk, Nea finished the foamy drawing of a swan on the surface of the drink she’d created—a traditional flat white made with a slightly darker roast than usual, one of her favorites. She called the customer’s name and set it on the round wooden surface at the edge of the counter where customers picked up their orders. Letting out a little exhale of satisfaction, she tucked a strand of her short black wavy hair behind her ear and moved onto the next order.

On her side of the counter, Blu tapped the knee of the young man who was working the cash register. Like all the additional employees of the Coffeewick, he was a student at the Academy in his last semester who worked there to earn some money and experience pre-graduation, a need for many like him whom the Coffeewick also wanted to help. Once he graduated and got a better job, he’d move on and let another student take his place, and so on. He, like the other part-timers, enjoyed working at the Coffeewick—it wasn’t just the peaceful ambience and delightful smell of coffee that made it shine, but the feeling of having a safety net that it emulated in him and his fellow Academy students was rivaled by only a few other initiatives in Piltover.

“You’re free to go,” Blu told him. “I’ll take over until Lily shows up.”

He looked down at Blu and smiled as he bent over and pulled a stool for her to climb on. “Thanks, I just need to talk to Nea and then I’m off.”

“Yup, take care,” Blu said as she got on top of the stool and was finally able to reach the cash register to keep the line going. “May I take your order?”

The next person in line was a lady who looked like she was in her sixties. She was well-dressed in black and white clothes that looked expensive, and she crowned her head with a black hat that had a large, poofy burgundy feather adorning it. The lady was expecting a human to take her order—you know, the same one she’d just seen behind the cash register—but instead, she was met with a little Yordle. Yordles weren’t all that common in Piltover, even if recent years had brought more of them to the city, so it was still a surprise for a Piltovan citizen to come across one. And this one in particular, with her blue fur and round brown eyes, her short brown hair in a bob cut, her round ears that poked from beneath the hair and her round little snout, knitted beige sweater and brown knit cowl, this little Yordle was just so round and fuzzy that it looked like a child’s teddy!

“Yes, I’ll have a… uh…” The lady trailed off, her eyes sparkling as her demure smile expanded into a grin from ear to ear. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute!”

“Ma’am, this is a coffee shop,” Blu replied in a kindness-infused deadpan, as though her words were previously rehearsed. “If you wish to express appreciation for the staff’s cuteness, I suggest doing it in the form of a generous tip.” Blu gestured at the little jar next to the cash register machine and directed a bright smile at the lady.

“Of course, of course,” the lady said, pressing a hand to her cheek as the other one looked through her purse and pulled out a hefty coin, proceeding to add it to the jar. “Here you go, dear. Now, could I please have the toffee caramel cappuccino to go?”

“Yes, ma’am, and thank you for the tip,” Blu smiled and proceeded to charge the lady for her beverage. “Toffee caramel cappuccino to go!”

“Coming up,” Nea called from the other side of the counter as she was finishing up the next milk drink in the queue.

One more coffee was done and delivered, and it was time to go for the next. This next drink was a large dark brewed in the Moka method—that one always took longer to brew, so Nea set up the Moka to brew with the cup underneath it while working on the next one in parallel, a simple, straightforward latte. And as Nea divided her focus between the two drinks, she was able to see from the corner of her eyes that her cashier was approaching her timidly.

“Um… Miss Nea?” He said.

“What can I do for you, Donnie?” Nea responded, glancing over at him through her glasses before focusing on steaming milk again. “Your shift’s over, right?”

“Yes,” Donnie replied, feeling a tad less tense. “Listen, um… I was wondering, and I’m sorry for not asking sooner, but… finals are coming up, and I’ll need to buy a whole bunch of supplies for my projects. I need my paycheck early, maybe not even the whole check, just whatever’s appropriate for the days since my last one… could you maybe…?”

Keeping the cup of milk at a steady angle for it to continue steaming, Nea looked at Donnie again, her big brown eyes soft on him. “Oh, I remember finals seasons. The sooner you can get your supplies, the better. Stores run out quickly.”

“Yes, that’s what I fear,” Donnie sighed. “And now that I pay for all my food and I got the bright idea of adopting a dog—”

Nea let out a smooth, delicate laugh, stopping Donnie’s nervous rambling in its tracks.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t need to be afraid to ask me for things you need. The paychecks are in the backroom, just let me finish steaming this milk and I’ll go get it.”

Donnie directed a bright smile at Nea. “Thanks so much. You’re saving my life right now.”

“Not a problem,” Nea said, putting down the milk and quickly cleaning the steamer with a damp cloth and a second of blowing pure steam onto an empty cup. “Be right back.”

Having mastered the art of wandering around her coffee shop, Nea went to the back room for the paycheck and returned to see Donnie finishing up and delivering the drinks she left paused. She smiled at the sight—acts of kindness like that one would always live in her memory. She then walked up behind Donnie and handed him the envelope with his check, and the curve on her lips widened slightly.

“Thanks for covering those drinks,” Nea acknowledged. “Here’s your check, and if you need a raise, just let me know.”

“Thanks so much, Nea,” Donnie unconsciously gave a slight bow in her direction. “I don’t need the raise, I just really needed this to get all the stuff I need.”

“Alright, well, good luck with all your finals,” Nea smiled at him.

“Thanks!” Donnie cheerfully expressed his gratitude again, and he pranced his way out of the Coffeewick to leave Nea to continue her work.

Nea’s eyes lingered on Donnie as he made his way out, her mind temporarily wandering on a number of different things ranging from her own memories as an Academy student short on cash and the writing of a mental note to motivate Donnie—and the rest of the intern staff—more over the next few weeks. But just as Donnie’s figure was disappearing into the crowd of people outside, her gaze got caught in a blue uniform that shielded teal skin. It was a male enforcer whose profile faced Nea, and his posture was strictly straight, almost regal, with his fingers interlaced behind his back. The sight was fairly standard except for the obvious fact that this enforcer was a Vastaya, and the sound of Donnie walking out of the Coffeewick as well as his figure walking past the enforcer caused him to angle his body enough for him to fully face the Coffeewick’s entrance.

When he did, the enforcer's gaze traveled through the entrance of the Coffeewick and landed on Nea only for her to notice it was the most beautiful shade of aquamarine. With wide, brown eyes unable to hide their appeal at the most intricate details they were able to pick up on even in that second-long glance, from the gills above his jawline to the delicate fins that framed his eyes, and the way his angular features looked so incredibly soft, Nea stared back at him and felt her surroundings fade to white noise. Though as the door of the Coffeewick closed itself and cast a sheet of wood and glass between her and the enforcer, Nea noticed him turning around and regaining his post standing watch outside.

Even after Nea was no longer able to see that striking ocean gaze, she remained motionless as she replayed the image of it in her mind. Seconds passed her in her daze, forgetting the queue of orders and the smell of coffee that would, on any other day, be the thing to entrance her senses. Her stare stood focused on the blue uniform as if she could telepathically beckon him to turn around again, maybe inspire him to come inside and order a cup or two, but no such thing happened.

"Hey, head barista," Blu called from the cash register. "Get brewing!"

"Sorry!" Nea gave a hop, startled out of her daze, and she got back to brewing and filling orders as if nothing had distracted her in the first place.

Blu was just about to get off her stool with which she covered the cash register since Lily, another Coffeewick worker, had just arrived. As Blu was moving her stool over to the side, her gaze wandered over to Nea with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by her partner's sudden—and uncommon—lapsus.

"What was that about?" Blu asked Nea.

"Oh, nothing," Nea replied as she added whipped cream to the toffee caramel cappuccino she was finishing.

"Your cheeks are burning red," Blu deadpanned.

"Don't you have a tray of cookies to take out of the oven?" Nea glanced over at Blu.

"And now you're getting defensive, which means not even you understand whatever's got you in a pickle," Blu climbed onto a chair behind the counter. "You were looking outside, what happened?"

"Nothing," Nea said.

"A ghost from your past?" Blu teased. "An ex lover you left in the dead of the night?"

"No, and I've never done that," Nea answered as she delivered the beverage and headed toward the coffee machine to brew the next. In that time, Blu looked through the glass doors and windows over to the outside, and her Yordle eyes were able to catch irregular sights far quicker than others.

"Enforcers? Out here?" Blu wondered.

"Yeah," said Nea.

"Why?"

"I think I read in a newspaper somewhere that it's just a council initiative," Nea replied almost cautiously. "Just to keep people and businesses safe, etc, etc."

"So... if you're not a fugitive but you're nervous about an enforcer at our door-" Blu stopped herself and giggled. "Ooooh, I see. "

"No, you don't," Nea tried to dismiss.

"Poppycock," Blu laughed and stood on her paw toes, trying to get a look at the enforcer. "Woah, he's green!"

"Blu!" Nea scolded.

"Hey, come on, you just shouted the color of my fur," the Yordle teased and looked at the enforcer again with more attention. "What do you know? A Vastaya. Didn't know you were into that."

"Cut it out," Nea couldn't help but laugh, albeit nervously.

"Aww, you have a little crush," Blu smirked.

"Hey, I know that look in your eyes," Nea answered. "You may as well have little flames in them."

"Do you want me to go out there and tell him you like him?" Blu said with that same look of mischief in her teddy-like face.

"What I want is for you to get off my case," Nea frowned.

"No you don't, you love me," Blu crossed her arms and frowned back.

"Right now, I could think of a few other emotions I feel towards you," Nea smirked.

"You'd be lost without me," Blu challenged.

In response, Nea proceeded to do the mature, grown-up thing and stuck her tongue out at Blu. The Yordle instantly stuck her tongue out too in response and, after the two shared a laugh, Nea paused the drink she was brewing to help Blu off the chair.

"Fine, I'll go somewhere else and leave you to pine for your hot Vastaya enforcer man on your own," Blu laughed, looking back up at Nea over her shoulder. "Hey, here's an idea. You should totally make him a cup of coffee and take it to him, and be all girly and googly and all like 'thank you for your service' or something like that."

Nea straightened up, pausing in her tracks. "That's not a bad idea."

"What?" Blu's teasing became concern as she turned around and faced Nea fully. "Hey, I was kidding."

"No, you're right, that would be perfect!" Nea's face lit up with a smile. "Let me finish up these next couple of orders. Do you mind taking over the queue while I head out there?"

"You're serious," Blu stared blankly. "You're actually gonna do it."

"After these, it's just two lattes, one for here and one to go," Nea instructed. "It shouldn't take me any longer than that. What should I take him? Latte? Cappuccino? Flat white? Black coffee? Creamer on the side? Sugar?"

"Whatever Nea, just pick," Blu grunted as she pushed the chair over to the coffee machine, figuring she was gonna need the boost if she was to take over for Nea. Nea walked over to help with the chair and put Blu up on it again, earning her a frown from the Yordle. "I'd go with a Red Eye, maybe you'll scare him off for good."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Nea grinned. "It was your idea."

"If this is your way of teaching me to shut up next time, it's working," Blu deadpanned.

"You don't mean that," Nea smirked. "You love me."

"And now I'm eating my words from earlier," Blu said. "Yippee."

Despite Blu's protests, she obliged and brewed the next couple of drinks in the queue while Nea finished up her current orders. As for what beverage she would deliver to the enforcer, she leaned back on her experience and went for the most balanced recipe for a latte she knew, one with good coffee flavor and creamy milk that added just the right amount of sweetness—perfect for nearly anyone who favored either the sweet or the bitter side of the craft. Nea was careful in her movements, deliberate in each part of the process from the milk steaming to the pouring of the espresso, and even if she was placing it in a disposable cup with a lid, she still made a delicate flower latte art with the foam on top—a heart probably would have been too obvious, but no small part of Nea wanted to make it that way. The flower seemed like a good option for now.

With the beverage done, she reached for a packet of sugar, a wooden mixer, and a couple napkins, Nea walked out from behind the counter and made her way across the Coffeewick, heading for the door. She stepped outside, relished in the chilly fresh air, and walked forward with her gaze set on the enforcer.

She stopped. It only dawned on her then that she didn't know what she was going to say, but on top of that, she was about to make a total fool of herself for all she knew. She'd had so much fun brewing the coffee and thinking about the perfect outcome that now that she was out there, part of her wanted to run and hide. He hadn't turned around yet—if she was quick, she could abort the plan and get away with it, have that latte herself. It was sure to be a good cup of coffee, she'd made it, after all. Nea became lost in her thoughts of how she could use a good latte right about now to regain a grip on reality, and at that moment, the enforcer felt her presence behind him and calmly turned around.

His aquamarine gaze nearly ended Nea. Up close, she was able to see much more of the detail in his physique. The fins that framed his eyes were paired with markings of a slightly lighter shade of green, and the inner corners of his eyelids as well as the sides of the bridge of his nose adopted a shade that more closely resembled human flesh. The helmet that he wore concealed his eyebrows and any other details above, but even under it, Nea could observe the shape of his ears pointing upward. In the sunlight, the golden details of his enforcer uniform appeared to be glowing in contrast with the rich blue color of the fabric, and aside from being motionless, Nea was now also rendered speechless in the presence of such beauty. Even if she wanted to appear cool and collected, she knew right then that she would miserably fail at any attempts to do so.

As he looked at her, his gaze appeared to soften, and the detail that dealt the final blow for Nea and made her weak in the knees was the way the fins around his eyes flickered, like a wave from inside to out, as his eyes widened slightly in attention. When he blinked, Nea noticed he had a second eyelid acting as a membrane that closed on a horizontal plane underneath his main eyelids—ust another thing that added to Nea's inability to speak—and he remained quiet, expectant of whatever she was about to do, until his gaze finally traveled over to the cup of coffee she was holding.

He met her gaze again. "Can I help you, miss?"

God, Nea thought to herself. Even his voice was irresistible, it was almost unfair. It was deep and rich, and when he spoke, he had a thick, elegant accent that made her yearn to hear him endlessly. Thoughts and insecurities rushed through her mind, things like how could someone that gorgeous still be single, or how could someone as beautiful as him pay attention to her, but she was surprised at herself for being able to put those intrusive thoughts aside and instead lifted the cup of coffee, showing it to him. As for what she would say—and she had reached a point where she really should say something—Nea opted to use the very words Blu had suggested in her earlier mischief.

"Thank you for your service," Nea said softly and offered the coffee to him.

His gaze softened even more, and slowly, he reached for the cup, almost hesitating to take it from her. He met her eyes again, and the hint of a smile curved her lips.

"It's not necessary," he uttered, his voice much softer than it had been before.

"Oh, I know, I just..." Nea trailed off, unable to stop smiling at him. "I wanted to."

Finally, he gave her a fuller smile. "Thank you."

Nea's smile grew as well to the point where she nearly giggled. When he took the coffee, Nea used her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, averting her gaze from him before meeting his eyes again. Lost for words again, Nea gave a little nod and turned around, walking back towards the Coffeewick until she eventually disappeared into it.

Inside, Nea remained for a second at the doorstep smiling at herself, and then she went back behind the counter where she was needed. There, Blu was just finishing up a couple of orders, and as soon as she laid eyes on Nea, the spunky grin returned.

"Well?" Blu said. "Did you crash and burn and stumble with your words?"

"No, I..." Nea smiled. "I actually think that went really well."

"What's his name?" Blu asked.

"Not a clue," Nea replied, her smile still firm in place.

Blu, in turn, facepalmed. "You're hopeless. Alright, I'm done here. Take over your coffee bar."

"He is so pretty," Nea pouted with a hand over her chest. "He is seriously so pretty I kind of want to cry."

"And yet you don't know his name," Blu mentioned.

"Yeah..." Nea's smile faded a bit. "I messed that up."

"I'll let it slide," Blu smirked. "People make dumb mistakes when they're in loooove."

"Oh, be quiet, you," Nea chuckled.

Blu walked off in the direction making indiscreet kissing noises the whole way until she disappeared into the kitchen. In the meantime, Nea got back to work and noticed the way her hands were trembling, but she figured she would still be able to make coffee even with a shaky hand and rosy cheeks.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

Next chapter ->

[ginnyruin]

i'm sorry but the nurchie "art" is clearly AI generated??? can we please stop sharing and praising shit that some algorithm spat out without ever asking the original creators whose work it steals and regurgitates for their permission

- sincerely, a pissed-off artist

Hello,

I’m going to set the record straight, and I’d suggest you read carefully before making any more baseless accusations. Nurchie is an actual artist—a trained one, with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in digital art and two-dimensional studies (drawing and painting) from a prestigious university. She has 16 years of professional design/digital art experience, and a publicly documented portfolio going back well before AI art even existed.

go look at her earliest work on Deviantart and you'll see how precisely detailed she draws hands, fingers, and clothing. Everything, really.

If you had bothered to do any homework, you’d see that her work reflects thousands of hours of dedicated practice and the expertise of a seasoned digital artist.

Calling her work AI generated is BEYOND insulting. it’s lazy, dismissive, and downright disrespectful to a person who has spent years honing her craft.

She doesn’t ask for clout, she doesn’t do commissions, she doesn't have a patreon or Kofi. She only made a Twitter years ago because I asked her to share her talent with the world or she wouldn't even bother.

This tendency to label any polished work as “AI” just shows ignorance, plain and simple. Real artists deserve better than to have their skills lumped in with AI machine-generated content by people who can’t tell the difference.

Each of her digital paintings takes anywhere from 30-80+ hours. For Altered State specifically, she's been working on all these art pieces for months while I've been on a posting hiatus. Her incredible work keeps me inspired; I would have literally quit ages ago. We go back and forth on details from the writing in the fic and I see these changes she makes in real time.

She paints in her limited free time for these niche fandoms because she loves the stories and wants to support the writers in it. In a world where fandom is becoming increasingly commodified, she is a rare gem.

I didn't even want to bother Nurchie with this silly comment of yours, but she's such a good sport she just laughed at the idea that anyone could accuse her art of being AI generated. She uses a combo of adobe CC suite and clip studio to draw.

nurchie messaged me this, and I asked for her permission to share it: [I just think they are probably some struggling artist, upset that they feel replaced by soulless AI and are lashing out any time they think they see it. I'm sympathetic to their feelings, and understand the annoyance. I've been battling the improper usage of it in my workplace. AI is not AI but just a data collection tool, and I completely agree that the human eye could never be replaced by it.]

yeah, she's the most chill, sweetest person ever, too. So maybe think twice before throwing around accusations you clearly can’t back up. You're trying to hurt a real artist.

-sincerely,

A writer who knows a real artist

https://www.deviantart.com/nurchie/gallery

edit: also accusations like this drive away real fanartists. Why should they bother sharing their work if their talent and skill are being dismissed as some algorithm's output? it's toxic. fandom spaces will be flooded with AI-generated content in the future because all the true artists will have left.

[rheydhotts]

Drabbles #1 — Modern Au! Timebomb

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko are first year college students.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx is a chemical engineering major and ekko is a political science and engineering major.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko are academic rivals who can't admit their feelings for each other.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko have study dates sessions every Saturday.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx falls asleep less than an hour in since she's quick to bore due to the fact she knows everything.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko can't help but admire how peaceful she looks while she rests.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko catches himself by mumbling about how lazy jinx is.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko begrudgingly gives her a blanket and moves her notes to make sure she doesn't drool on them.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko takes another photo of her to add to his album, not as blackmail but something to keep him motivated.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx also has photos of him sleeping in her camera roll that she does use as blackmail.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko sometimes paint murals on abandoned walls they find.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko sometimes lets jinx ride his skateboard.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko tries his hardest not to think too much about the fact he's holding her waist so she doesn't eat shit if she falls (and she will)

modern au! timebomb, where jinx puts herself in situations where she's touching ekko or ekko is touching her.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko often brag about getting the better grades or a higher test score even though they aren't studying the same thing. they just want the other to know that they're smarter in their respective topic than the other is in theirs.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko often criticizes jinx for how messy her dorm is.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx keeps it messy just to annoy him since she thinks it's cute.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko have been dancing around each other since high school.

modern au! timebomb, where it's finally spring break and ekko decides to make a move.

...

can you meet me at the park near the campus? i need to talk to you..

ekko nearly threw his phone out the window after sending that text. his hands were shaking and his nerves were shot at what he was about to do. he's liked her for years now but the thought of possibly changing their relationship terrified him. what if she said no? worse. what if she said yes? what would he do then?

ekko started to get ready, ignoring the cold sweats that would drip from his brow and how shallow his breaths are. he cursed himself for not owning anything more casual. most of his closet was occupied by turtlenecks, sweater vests and button ups. occasionally, there would be a hoodie or two. he decided to go with one of those. a green hoodie with a graphic of a huge tree plastered on the back. and for his pants? he didn't worry too much about those since he only had 2 valid options. jeans and sweats. he went with the jeans. they were acid wash with a few rips below the knees. jinx had made them for him. she originally just accidentally washed them with the whites one time after saying she'll do his laundry for him. she tried to make it look intentional but clearly it wasn't. ekko was pissed but he'll admit, they do look cool.

sure?

y?

watz goin on?

ekko rolled his eyes and smiled when he got her response. though he made fun of her for it, he secretly loved the way she typed. even if it meant spending a few minutes to decide it, the ridiculousness makes him laugh.

nothing. i just want to talk to you

...

um ok

weirdo

be there in 15

and with the finishing touches of his cedarwood cologne, he was out the door.

who has time to write full length fics? — xoxo, rheyd.

[leesielex]

The Last Holiday

Summary: Dany Targaryen has just arrived at her dream resort to spend the Holiday Season. Once a shy woman who kept her head down and let others walk all over her, a recent event in her life has changed her perception. Now she is grabbing life by the jingle bells and living to the fullest. Not even Jon Snow, the arrogant and out of touch, wealthy, CEO of Starklannd Department stores, where she worked in retail, can ruin her holiday. Though he may not be able to say the same for her.

Preview: Podrick dodged the bustling people with expertise. All the guests around them were dressed in designer clothes, their outfits and accessories costing more than most people’s houses. When he reached the center, he noticed her lagging behind to take in her surroundings, and stopped to wait for her. As she reached his side, a familiar face walked past her smiling curiously.

“Senator,” Dany greeted.

“Miss,” he nodded back, genuine interest in his mismatched eyes.

“Well, I suppose I know why Senator Lannister was unable to attend the meeting,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head in disappointment. When she smirked up at the bellhop, she watched him scrutinize her from her Martellmart boots to her Starklannd parka, trying to figure out who she was and if she was important.

Raising a bushy brow at him, she waited, amused. This seemed to shake him out of it, gesturing for her to approach the reception desk to check-in.

“Daenerys Targaryen,” she said, giving her name and passport to the buxom woman smiling slyly behind the desk.

Her green eyes already focused on the screen as she typed her info into the computer. Dany leaned over and squinted to read her name tag. ‘Ros’.

“I’m sorry, Madam Targaryen, your room is not quite ready. We were not expecting you for two more hours.”

Dany smiled fondly. “Well, Ros, I wasn’t expecting to get here by helicopter either. Can you please see if another room is ready? My time is precious these days.”

“Of course.”

The keyboard continued clacking as Ros went back to her screen so Dany let her eyes wander. A giant tree decorated with ornaments and ribbon stood tall next to the grand staircase. It had to be twenty feet high, dwarfing her petite frame as she strained her neck to see the enormous star on top.

Poinsettias were arranged on each side of the desk, sitting on tables in a lounge area, and hanging from the walls. Golden statues of children of the forest watched from the top of columns. She studied the painting of the wolves above, the enchanting way they frolicked as a pack on one side and sat in awe and facing what she now noticed was a weirwood tree in the center, its crimson leaves and bleeding smile staring down at her.

She knew the north believed in the Old Gods and the weirwood trees were how they believed they could speak to their gods, and their gods could watch over them, and answer their prayers. Only a handful of trees still stood, though she hadn’t a clue where one may find one. The more she gazed upon the ethereal scene above her, the more she felt transported into it.

If she closed her eyes she could feel the cold wind upon her cheeks, the rough bark under her palm as she whispered her most secret desire. Would the old Gods answer them if her own wouldn’t?

“Doesn’t that ceiling ever just make you wanna cry?” Dany asked wistfully.

“I never noticed before.,” Ros mumbled as she typed into her computer, the keys clicking and clacking. “The only room available is the presidential suite. It is 4,600 dragons a night,” Ros told her hesitantly, her eyes darting to her plain clothes.

“I’ll take it.”

“Madam, it is quite a bit more expensive than your original room. Are you sure you don’t wish to wait. We have a seating area and lots to do in the area while you wait.”

“I would like the presidential suite, please, Ros.”

“Madam Targaryen. I know you will find our presidential suite most comfortable,” Podrick appeared out of thin air at her side, giving a pointed look at the woman behind the counter before smiling down at her and holding out his arms to escort her to her room.

Walking back to the elevators, she heard a voice say, “Mr. Snow, can you sign my book?”

Following Podricks line of sight, she saw a man in a grey suit with dark curls pulled into a knot at the back of his head. Even from where she stood, she could see his god-like body, muscles so strong they looked like they might tear through the expensive material that clung so perfectly it looked like it was made for him.

Well, it is Mr. Snow, it was made for him. Dany rolled her eyes. A red-headed woman stood next to him, her hair twisted into an elegant coiffe. He faced Dany as he turned to grab the book to sign.

“Jon Snow.”

Click to read on AO3

[dross-the-fish]

Adam's Return. Part 1

Adam returns to the Frankenstein Manor in search of one of Victor's diaries.

......

Adam emerged from the dense undergrowth of the forest and trod the worn footpath that lead up the sloping and hilly grounds of the Frankenstein estate. It was a clear and quiet night, much like when he had last crept across these very same grounds. Pale moonlight poured over him, casting a sheen of silver on the fine leather of his coat sleeves and in the black of his hair. Despite his size he moved silently, stirring not a single petal or branch as he crossed through the bower of a well-kept garden. He felt himself something of a returning ghost. No more real than his reflection on the window pane as he grasped the crack brick and wooden frame work of the side of the house. He didn’t even need to look to know where to climb, he remembered.

Her window was just there, a few feet above him. Her balcony, spilling roses and thorned vines down the side of the house. Red now instead of the white of before. Different roses, same thorns cutting his hands and reddening them. Same handprints grasping the balcony rail and pulling himself over. Booted foot, instead of bare, on familiar stone. A good coat tore instead of a shabby one. The lock on the window was different, sturdier. He smiled to himself bitterly, wondering if it was made stronger to keep him out, even a century later. As he crouched before the window he peered into the bedroom.

Vacant, likely for some time as the bedframe had no mattress and the bedcurtains were moth-eaten. The furniture was covered in sheets and a veil of heavy grey dust. Burial shrouds. He smashed the window, not caring the damage the glass it did to his hand and opened the lock from inside. After he opened the window and climbed in he took a look around.

It was the same bedframe, same curtains, even the vanity mirror and the wardrobe, sturdy oak with painted birds. Before he could stop it an uninvited thought flitted through his head Did she paint them herself? Something in his chest squeezed uncomfortably and he swallowed thickly.

Don’t think of her now…

He felt a very strong need to be out of this room. This place still mourned a bride a century dead. He stooped through the doorframe, leaving a handprint on the white of the wall as he passed the threshold.

Victor’s room and study had been on the second floor. The home had been updated at some point, electric lamps rested on end tables in the hallway. Wall hooks for lanterns had been taken down. Lightbulbs and lamps replaced candelabras. It was a floor lamp he found in the modernized study. He turned the knob and set a spark along a coil in a glass bulb. Electricity worked its magic.

“Let there be light,” Adam chuckled wryly.

Unlike the bedroom the study was entirely different. Only the bookshelves and the desk remained of the original furniture. The chairs, sofa, end tables, all of them new and fashionable. This room saw a lot of use, evident in the recently cleaned fireplace, the typewriter with a half-finished page and a whiskey glass, bearing a lipstick stain, no doubt only hours old. This was a comfortable room for someone in this house. Which meant that it was highly likely if one of Victor’s diaries was here that it had been either moved or thrown out.

Still, he had to search. He began with the desk, prying it open and wincing as the lock groaned and gave way under the force of his pulling. There were papers, a pocket watch, and a photograph. This he examined for the person in it was an ancient looking man smiling and seated in a chair with three small children crowded onto his lap. The creature turned the photograph in his hands, dated 1888 “great grandfather Ernest’s 100th” 30 years ago…

Adam had missed the last of them by a mere three decades. It evoked an odd feeling in him, not grief but a sense of finality. The severing of a thread he didn’t know he’d been carrying.

It was the click of a rifle that brought him back to himself. Slowly he rose from behind the desk to meet the eyes of a terrified looking woman.

“My God…” she gasped, “My God…you’re real.”

[thelargefrye]

CAFÉ ETERNAL SUNSHINE ... bullet - point fic

pairing : poly!ateez x f!reader

genre : cafe au, fluff, established poly relationship

word count : 873

warnings : food, mentions of getting sick from overworking

special tag : @sanjoongie who allowed me to talk about this with her and is mainly inspired by this tiktok [ here ]

you and your eight boyfriends run a cafe together.

four sunshine boyfriends and four grumpy boyfriends with you somewhere in the middle

sunshine boyfriends : hongjoong, yeosang, san, and mingi

grumpy boyfriends : seonghwa, yunho, wooyoung, and jongho

you all run and own a cafe together

you and hongjoong originally started the cafe together before the others just slowly began working there with you both

the cafe as a comedy and tragedy type of aesthetic mixed with some artist vibes with painting down by hongjoong hanging on the walls

the food is very cute and bright and very comedy inspired

while the drinks are more darker and tragedy inspired

you even have a romeo and juliet inspired drink called "true loves poison"

the sunshine boys handle the drinks and the to-go orders

the grumpy boys handle the food and waiting tables

you and wooyoung are in the kitchen making the food and trying not to have a food fight every ten minutes

while all the boys are handsome, yeosang and seonghwa have become kind of like the faces of the cafe

you look on social media and its always you can always find either of the two in at least every single post

some people come to cafe just to see seonghwa and/or yeosang

yeosang is very welcoming and along with the other sunshine boys will have conversations with customers

while seonghwa is more of a "either buy something or get out" type of guy and usually gives off a cold aura to people that try to flirt with him or one of his partners

also– general manager!seonghwa who isn't afraid to kick people out of the cafe he sees them trying to cause a problem

seonghwa is very protective over you and the others

will also immediately rush to the back if he hears wooyoung giggling too loudly because he KNOWS that boy is up to something

eventually the cafe started hosting an open mic night once a month to allow people to come and perform

you and the boys will also perform once in a while

you'll mainly find hongjoong and jongho performing more than you or the others

you originally wanted to do a cat cafe but hongjoong turned it down

san was all for it but you guys got outvoted by the others

so to make up for that, you guys host an special animal adoption day at the cafe every once in a while

probably one of the few times you are seen out of the kitchen as you mostly help with the animals

during these days hongjoong or mingi are usually in the back with wooyoung to help him

the cafe also does special themed drinks and foods inspired by what broadway show is popular at the time

some examples have been six, beetlejuice, heathers, etc.

this are very rare though and very limited time, like maybe a week or two

also do special days that are either comedy discounted or tragedy discounted days

when these days happen you and the others either dress in brightly colored clothes or dark color clothes and the music in the cafe also matches the discount of the day

sometimes the cafe will also stay open into the very early hours of the morning (almost 24/7)

when this happens, you and yunho usually run the cafe by yourself since during this you only serve coffee and biscuits

usually during the late nights you'll get office workers, people who can't sleep, night shift people, or college students looking for a place to study

usually after these shifts, you and yunho crash in bed together for a few hours

hongjoong once tried running the night shift with yunho when you couldn't and hongjoong honestly can't figure out how you do it

"i don't know how you do it, y/n."

like hongjoong, yeosang has also covered yunho's late night shift, and every time he does he says he learns more and more about you each time

you two have been dating for years along with the others and so he thought he knew everything about you

"i think with each night shift, i fall more and more in love with you"

you have a tendency to overwork yourself which has lead to you getting sick a few times

the boys are all the time worried about you and try to get you to take the day off especially after some big event has happened at the cafe

one of the boys – usually san or jongho – also take off so that way you aren't by yourself

speaking of taking off

when either you and wooyoung take off or can't come or something, mingi is always the one to come help in the kitchen

mingi is really great help in the kitchen and usually left to decorate the cakes and such

HOWEVER–

one time both you and wooyoung were gone – you both had went out of town to get new ideas for food, so that left the others to run the kitchen

....

it was a disaster

you and wooyoung left mingi in the kitchen and so mingi brought san into the kitchen to help him

....

next time you both go out of town, you'll just close the cafe until you guys get back

tag list (bold means unable to tag ) : @invuwrld @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frogogh @marsanhwa @kryukyustar @sookacc @seongwin @melomatz @songmingisthighs

network : @cultofdionysusnet