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#but hes also fluffy child
attex · 10 months
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had fun playing co op with @shadowefigure @overstays @plutosoda
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fluffypotatey · 8 months
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*smashes in like the Kool-Aid man*
PENDRAGON SIBLINGS YOU SAY????
I have. So many Feels. About Themst™
The complexity?? The layers?? The angst?? Hello??????
Their relationship is just So Much, because you are right, it's all tangled up in miscommunication and missed opportunities, and so many problems that can be sourced back to Uther "War Crimes" Pendragon, who wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it bit him on the ass.
If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.
Because it's the lonely childhoods, the shared grief, the friendship, the vulnerability, the fondness, the teasing, the envy, the jealousy, the almost romance, the protectiveness, the betrayal, the loss, the hurt, the refusal to let go and the desperate hanging on, and the love, the love, the love.
Indifference is the true opposite of love.
Hate is love that's gone rotten.
���If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.” oh fuck….
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK
WAIT HOLD ON WAIT LEMME PIGGYBACK ON THAT BESTIE @0hheytherebigbadwolf (tagging you bc it will be a couple days after you sent this ask)
(Also, for anyone wanting background context on what me and bestie are bouncing off on: voilà)
OK OK SO
we are all familiar with King Uther being the greatest (worst) dad of all time, correct? places such high expectations on his “only son and heir” whilst never officially acknowledging Morgana as his daughter until the very end?
F+ father of the year :)
he is not above sending his children into the dungeon if they disobey him as seen here:
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(Jfc he even put Morgana in chains like wtf)
also, he is not above using emotional guilt towards them when he deems it necessary (aka one of the only times he actually acknowledges them as his children)
UTHER (1x02 Valiant) I trust you will make me proud.
UTHER (1x08 The Beginning of the End) I’ve treated you like a daughter. Is this how you repay me?
UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) You are the daughter I never had.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) You would believe a sorcerer’s lies over the word of your father?
not to mention that when Arthur or Morgana try to reason with him or argue with him since they are the only ones with the status to do so, he pulls rank
UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) May I remind you that you are speaking to your King [...] Take care, child, or I’ll have you restrained.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am your king and your father. You will show me some respect!
UTHER (2x06 Beauty and the Beast) We live in dangerous times, I cannot allow you to undermine my authority.
UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final.
ngl i could include more but i have already spent hours searching for shit (YOUTUBE WILL DIE BY MY HAND THAT STINGY BITC—) but y’all get what i mean: Uther is an abusive fucker and it has messed up the conditions of Arthur and Morgana
now, about the double edged blade…..
as previously established, Uther is a fucking dick and wants his children to obey him but also adore him. with this behavior, the Pendragon siblings react in two ways: with anger & contempt or submission and remorse
way #1
i’m gonna start with Morgana because anger is the easiest to pick out throughout the show. in the first episode of the first season, our introduction to Morgana’s character is her lecturing Uther about executing the man Merlin witnessed upon entering Camelot (such a warm welcome for Emrys, mh?)
MORGANA I just don't think chopping someone's head off is cause for a celebration. That poor mother. UTHER It was simple justice for what he'd done. MORGANA To whom? He practiced some magic, he didn't hurt anyone. UTHER You were not around twenty years ago, you have no idea what it was like. MORGANA How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?
early on, it is easy to pick up on Morgana’s resentment and anger at Uther, who she believes is blinded by his fear of magic and his need for control (which she isn’t wrong about). also, we find that she isn’t one to back off when poking the bear (Uther). she does it constantly in seasons 1 & 2
MORGANA (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers? Like an idle king!
MORGANA (1x08 The Beginning of the End) How can this child be your enemy? He's just a boy. UTHER He is a Druid. MORGANA Is that such a crime?…What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?
UTHER (2x04 Lancelot and Guinevere) How many men would you have me sacrifice to save a servant? MORGANA  As many as it takes!
to be honest, i wouldn’t be surprised if screaming, arguing and berating Uther about his morals and ethics is her way of proving that she is not weak or submissive to his actions. i mean, Morgana grew up in a household the complete opposite from her time in Camelot. Gorlois, the man whom Morgana considers to be her father and one and only family member, was said to be “just” and “kind” and someone that Uther even considered a good friend who openly kept him in check. Morgana, until the age of ten, understood parental love and empathy unlike Arthur, who spent his whole life without any good or healthy substance of it.
the culture of Camelot and Uther’s wrath is not something Morgana was ever able to fully acclimate to as Uther himself pointed out in 1x12. She “was at odds with [him] since the beginning” and could never picture herself as a Pendragon (point further proven in 4x05: she looked revolted when Queen Annis compared her to Uther) because she didn’t share in their idea of magic = evil and a king = absolute control.
ironic in terms of future plot events, isn’t it :’)
way #2
compare that to Arthur: man’s respressed af. keeps all his emotions under lock and key if they are anything but haughty and serious. y’all, Arthur even says it himself how he “[can't] disagree with Father [Uther] in public.” whenever Arthur finds himself at odds with Uther, he holds his tongue and waits until he can disobey secretly (2x05 when he leaves to rescue Gwen, 1x08 when he helps Morgana sneak out Mordred in the dark of the night, 2x08 when he sneaks out to meet Morgause for more info about his mom, etc). it is only the rare moments when Arthur feels impassioned enough to speak up without fearing any retribution does Arthur talk back at him (so satisfying 👌)
ARTHUR (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) [Morgana’s] right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen.
ARTHUR (2x08 Sins of the Father) This is what fuels your hatred for those who practice magic. Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them….You hunted her kind like animals! How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?!….You speak of honour and nobility! You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!
ARTHUR (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You can't forbid my feelings any more than I can. I won't deny them any longer, I love her. I love Guinevere.
we can even compare how the two react to Uther’s violence towards them
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(ahahahahahaaaaa what a wonderful dad)
on the left, you see Arthur’s face right when Uther crushes the morteus flower needed to heal Merlin (his manservant/friend/????) and on the right, is Morgana after Uther discovers she was harboring a Druid child in her chambers and she refuses to listen to his reason.
notice how both faces are remarkably similar 👀
however, Arthur’s look of shock and dismay come from his hope that Uther would do the right thing. that he would help save Merlin’s life from dying of poison. that he wouldn’t use this as a method to teach Arthur “what it means to disobey and cross the king.” he truly did hope, just like he always does with the people he holds close. Arthur cannot help but hope and trust that those close to him will not betray him and yet so many do. hence the remorse
looking at Morgana, her shock comes from the fact that this might be the first time Uther reacted to her words and actions in a physical manner. my suspicion is that most of the time, all Morgana previously got was Uther reprimanding her and yelling at her to stop questioning his methods (bc, let’s be real, she was the favorite child.) never has he lifted a finder on her like Arthur and i have proof (cue transcript!)
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AND! and, Arthur is constantly warning Morgana about not angering Uther any further because of the consequences she might face (consequences this boy is very familiar with) when Uther deems it necessary to “teach” his children obedience.
UTHER (1x04 The Poisoned Chalice) You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.
UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final [...] This is for your own good. - UTHER She will die. The enchantment will be broken. You'll see I was right.
UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am protecting you from your own foolishness!
so educational 🥰 but see, because Uther presents his punishments as lessons, Arthur himself views them as just a fucked up but meaningful way of his father’s concern because “yeah, I am the first born son and only heir to the throne. of course I need to learn not to do silly things like disobey, talk back to him, be my own person.” <- I’m paraphrasing here
Arthur does and has never seen a way out of the life thrust upon him by Uther (see 3x06). succeeding Uther as king, marrying a noblewoman of high standing for heirs and alliance strength was always expected of him. Arthur never saw a way out of this. even when he and Gwen were in their secret relationship phase, Arthur had to remind himself that this would never last. he loved her and knew she loved him, but there was always that reminder (that sounded a lot like Uther) in the back of his head telling him that it would never last so long as he was prince. he had a duty (constructed by Uther) to serve Camelot and going against his father would mean (in his eyes) that he is going against Camelot (as Uther always presented it to be).
so unlike Morgana, he did not kick and scream but stood firm because that was what he believed was stronger. if he stayed in his lane and did his part, then he would be a good king, maybe even a better one than his father, for Camelot. however, the show proves that differentiating himself from Uther actually made him the better king and more respected, but this is not the meta for that. I am getting side tracked.
OK: so we’ve established parental issues between the two siblings. now onto their very complex, complicated yet beloved dynamic
sO, as i mentioned in this post (because i am lazy and too tired to copy/paste the evidence from there), these siblings do care for one another. they just go about it in the most hilarious and repressed and in-denial way (hilarious to me 😤)
when we meet them, it’s established that these two have known each other for some time. enough for them to bicker and have banter, you know, as you do with a Pendragon. also, should add, neither character are ever aware they are blood-related until s3 (because of some weak-ass bitch named Uther), so you have that very, uh, interesting subplot in s1 that everybody forgets about until you rewatch it. (honestly, I have so many questions. number 1: why???? number 2: it’s only in s1—was it scrapped??? is it like it never existed???? what was its purpose to the plot??? bbc explain yourself—)
however, despite how much it is shown that they do care for one another, they’re relationship in s1 is still undefined and vague as if they also don’t know how to accurately define what the other means to them. it’s very similar to the whole “i really love this person so much but is what i’m feeling platonic, familial, or romantic?” because….you know, guy and girl besties who are close are typically expected to grow romantic feelings for each other, so tbh i would not be surprised if both mistook their love as romantically inclined in the beginning bc, reminder, neither of them were aware they were siblings until much later.
[and this is ALL i am saying on this subplot. i do not want to cause any negative discourse, so if anyone has a few choice words about it, either keep it to yourself or feel free to talk about it with people you know. personally? not a fan of the ship and never will be, but i am not here to post about that.]
anyway, have some featured receipts showing Arthur and Morgana slipping up and showing how much they care for each other.
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SEE!!!! LOOK AT HOW THE CARE!!!! SEE HOW THEY WORRY FOR THE OTHER AND WISH TO PROTECT THEM FROM HARM!!! (and see how even when they’re on opposite sides there is still that same love. just more warped and corrupted T^T)
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^worried/protective Morgana
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^Arthur’s face after Merlin informs him that there’s an intruder heading to Morgana’s chambers
Morgana is very aware of Arthur’s trusting nature. Arthur is very aware of Morgana’s empathy and righteous nature. they understand each other so well which is why Morgana knew just how to harm Arthur in later seasons and why Morgana’s betrayal hit Arthur so hard. it’s also why he never stopped trying to reach out to her in s4 & s5. as @merlinemrys said in this lovely post, the show’s driving force is love. love of all kinds. whatever conflict it is, love is there at the center of it all and, in Arthur and Morgana’s case, it does not save them (just like how love does not save Merlin or Arthur from what lies ahead, as the op of the post pointed out).
that is what makes their relationship/love be like a double edged sword!! that is why they are edges of the same blade!!! they protect and fight for what they believe in and for the people they love, but the same blades cut deep and twist their wounds into a lasting scar.
it is because of Arthur’s love for Morgana that he cannot help but hope and mourn the woman he once knew. it is because of Morgana’s love for Arthur that her feelings of hatred are so strong and ugly.
like honestly,
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look at them T^T compared to before
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their relationship is so tragic T^T because we knew them before it all went wrong. we knew they cared and understood each other. we knew that for some time, they only had each other to rely on for a friend, a crutch, a breather for when the royal life was too much. both of them were fighters and strive to honor their values. both of them had once leaned on the other for support, had wanted nothing but happiness for each other.
fuck, they didn’t even get the chance to really be siblings because they found out too late, and by then Morgana was on a war path and Arthur only found out at the last minute.
like fuck, man
two sides of the same blade: forged with love, yet used for blood
screencaps brought to you by me, @sourdough-morbread, and farfarawaysite
#i will spare you the gorey details of me trying to fine decent screencaps & screenshots for this fucking post or else i’ll get pissed again#(i am considering whether it is worth it to go to war with youtube)#special thanks to my bestie mor for being there for me at the gorey times and helping me find more screenshots#fucking love you bestie 💕💕💕💕#also only including s1-2 bc i am tired and they are the ones where we get pendragon siblings not trying to kill each other#forgive me for always bringing up uther and the pendragon sibs’ upbringing with him it will happen again#also after hours of rereading transcripts and rewatching clips of bbc merlin: it is so obvious that uther cared and treated Morgana like hi#own child more than Arthur. like jfc he let’s her get away with so much stuff he is way for gentle with his words towards her#when he realizes that he was too cruel or rude like bro…..where tf was that for arthur#it just adds to the complicated sibling dynamic because there is the added jealousy and resentment of knowing a parent loved another more#literally most of Morgana’s time with Uther was her at odds with him and yet he views her as his child more#well no ducking dur that Arthur ‘i-would-do-anything-to-receive-my-father’s-love-attention-and-pride’ Pendragon resents Morgana for#always being the one Uther goes easier on and finds ways to turn a blind eye for like wtf#also during my research i was reminded of how done dirty Gwen’s story was by bbc#loses her father to a king fearful of magic barely gets to mourn him bc she now has to keep up the smithy and her maid job; reunites#with her brother who’s been AWOL for some years and still they don’t get a moment to talk about their dad and mourn TOGETHER#her storyline is pushed aside by s4 bc now she’s fulfilling the role of Arthur’s love interest and oh yeah they still need to incorporate#the lanceot/guinevere scandal and then banish her for some episodes without even letting her brother be mad about it like ?????#anyway#continued saga of fluffy rereading transcripts -> uther: ‘it’s been a long time since Ygraine…since anyone’ me: ducking liar >:(#[sir leon begins the slow clap] king you dropped this 👑IT IS 1AM HELP 😂#place your bets on where my laziness for evidence came in! (I honestly don’t know lol scavenging evidence is all a blur)#spent 2 days on this post lol#me: ok i think that’s enough evidence for this argument…………ok maybe ONE more won’t hur—#me after day 2: ….am i done???? am i free????#pendragon siblings coming behind me with a steel chair: nah mate!#me: FUCK THERE’S MORE#bbc merlin#merlin meta#pendragon sibs
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brain,,,dump
Thinking about Ajax waking up in the middle of the night, panicked from a nightmare or sudden memory, in an attempt to let him calm down Foul Legacy takes over, completely forgetting you were passed out in bed beside them.
You wake up and Foul Legacy processes your presence, throwing himself into a panic out of fear you would hate him for taking Ajax’s place. You are admittedly confused and a bit spooked at the sight of Foul Legacy’s bright blue pearlescent eye staring back at you from the corner of the room he flung himself into, but you don’t say anything, just getting up and holding Foul Legacy’s face.
You’ve seen him before, in brief moments when Ajax would deem it necessary, allowing the abyss monster to take control. Though it was odd, seeing him cower in fear, typically Foul Legacy would be engaging in combat, this unmovable force protecting you. You run your fingers through his mane, allowing him to cradle you in his arms, softly chittering at you.
You weren’t sure how it happened, the two of you curled up in a nest of blankets, sleeping soundly, Foul Legacy’s rumbling purr being the only sound in the room.
hrggg i wanna hold foul legacy so bad, cradle his face [📺]
you and me both anon,,, you and me both,,, Hoyoverse when do we get the option to hug Foul Legacy please,,,
this is your first time being so close to Foul Legacy out of combat, and honestly? he is the sweetest monster you've ever met. even in a state of terror, he's extremely gentle with you, making sure that his grip on your body is light enough for you to pull away if you want to- you must want to, right? normally it'd be Ajax you were sleeping next to, not Foul Legacy, his monstrous other half. but you simply step closer, raising a hand and pressing it carefully against his cheek, tracing your fingers over the dips and ridges in his crimson mask. Legacy's crystalline eye widens as he lets out a chirp of surprise, then he melts into your touch, leaning heavily against the palm of your hand, soft croons slipping from his fanged maw. when you move your hand from his cheek to under his chin he purrs blissfully, glittering wings flitting and talons wrapping around your wrist to keep it in place
and then he looks at you and, oh, the soft smile on your face warms his heart more than any fire or ice ever could. there's not a hint of disgust or annoyance in your expression- no, there's only love and adoration, as well as a hint of amusement whenever he sticks his head out for you to scratch his chin more. Foul Legacy suddenly flops onto your lap, snuggling his head against your legs and curling around your body, inching up to bury his face in the crook of your neck once you lay down with him. his previous fear is entirely forgotten, replaced by the sensation of having you in his arms, all to himself for once. right before he drifts off again, Legacy leans in and gives you a lick on the cheek, chittering mischievously and kneading his claws into the soft blankets
he hears you laugh in surprise, and closes his eye again
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blaiddraws · 2 years
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I love the cool dragon submas designs so i gotta know: Can they fly? Or could they eventually fly? Can they use moves? Do they have a moveset rn? Can they understand pokemon? And finally, if you hug Emmet is he warm like blanket just out of a dryer?
they Cannot fly lol. at best ingo could slow a fall. emmet's "wings" are just an excess of feathers on the edge of his arms. not a chance of flight there.
they Cannot use moves, ish. it's complicated. ingo has some control over his electricity and emmet has some control over his flames, but that's basically it.
they CAN understand pokemon, even Before the whole. stuck like half transformed. in their human forms they could understand pokemon just fine and still very much can as half creature. they can also Make creature noises.
and yes! emmet gives very pleasant and warm hugs. he is verrry proud of this.
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captain-k8kat · 7 months
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I'm having an autism moment and thinking about childe tartaglia
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toaster-fire-art · 2 years
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✨ fluffy child  ✨
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gingericywolf · 1 year
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Wip
And more stuff
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These where stand alone sketches at first but, you know. That is probably what Toro thought when Ben challenged him.. + Babies
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paintedkinzy-88 · 2 years
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Have you ever made a design how Pallette look like when he's is older? I only remember a drawing of bb dragon Palle :0
I had n o t yet fhskfnksnf. That Inktobertale doodle was mostly a place holder tbh, I don’t even really remember what I drew, BUT, I kinda think he’d be really lanky?? Like REALLY a noodle boi. More than Dream and Nightmare XD
I really struggled to try and get what I wanted with his head??? So don’t take this as an official ref for him yet. It’s more of a first attempt sketch page I guess:
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I like the body, just not quite satisfied with his horns/ears… I’ll probably do something similar to what I did with Crescent eventually (I say as if I was 100% happy with that Crescent doodle). Especially to really play with those pink/yellow/blue coloring in his ecto huehue.
But for now, just know he was absolutely tiny as a baby — like concerningly so. He grows to be just barely bigger than Ink, but not as big as Dream and PJ. Longer probably, though!
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yellow-faerie · 17 days
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In typical fashion for me, I have fallen into AU hell for Doctor Who and I am really living it up over here
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the-travelling-witch · 8 months
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happy birthday to the best big brother (and best, most loving husband)!! look at him he’s so gorgeous and he cares about his family so much, i love him <3
"Hmm? This album... must be a gift from my traveling companion."
"It's been such a long time. I wonder when we'll meet again..."
"...Teucer! Come take a look at this youkai picture book, you'll love it."
"Yay, storytime! Mr. Cyclops wants to listen too!"
"Ahaha, alright then. Let's start from the beginning..."
(omg he misses his travelling companion ㅠㅠ i‘m omw, darling, don’t worry!! also please look at mr. cyclops wearing his fatui mask ㅠㅠ)
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"Not bad! A duel is all I could have wished for on my birthday."
"Oh? You mean this is my actual present?"
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twyz · 1 year
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Because he's way more powerful than other vampires, Vasilica is a lot bigger in his bat form. If you've ever seen a full grown Maine coon cat, he's about that size which is HUUUUUGE for bats. He's also kinda goofy despite his vampiric rank, there have been times where he's snuggled up to Tiffany in bat form and she's had to hold him like a baby cuz he's just so hugeamungus!!!
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k0kichiimagines · 1 year
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i love giving my cat a little blanket when hes cold
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beneathtreemomo · 17 days
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My One Piece OC, Lagtha "Kit" Rori!
His name is Lagtha "Kit" Rori, and he can see and interact with the dead. I haven't completely decided on if he's 24 or 26 pre-timeskip, but I'm leaning towards 26.
He's also a Prince of a kingdom in North Blue called Valstasia.
Valstasia is a well-known kingdom in the North, praised for their furs and leathers (often created from creatures hard to find elsewhere, or particularly rowdy and difficult to take down). But mostly, the country is known as a country of magic-- is even given the moniker "the Country of Fae". Fairytales, runes, curses, spells, demons-- the country was known for its dedication to studying and embracing all of this. Very few countries actually believed in those same things, but it was a quirk many found charming. Some of the more annoying ones mocked Valstasia for it. But the kingdom was still considered highly across the world.
When Rori is about nine or ten, he almost dies. Drowning, getting reared by a horse, taking a dangerous fall-- something. (Haven't figured out what I want it to be yet) The stress of the event was enough to awaken his Haki, but it also changed it.
At first, everyone assumes it's shock-- the little one nearly DIED after all, and it was traumatic enough it turned parts of Rori's hair white; that's scary for anybody. But then, within a few days, they realize it's something else. Especially when Rori shows that he's somehow managed to awaken Observation Haki.
It becomes a well-known secret in Valstasia that the youngest prince has a "strange haki".
Upon some research, his family decides that it must be an offset of Observation Haki that came from Rori nearly dying that now allowed him to see the dead. The closer to the castle you lived, the more likely you were to know the details of Rori's ability, though no one aside from the family knew just what it was Rori could see.
His father, Haesgard, wasn't sure what to make of Rori's strange haki at first. Thought little of it in the grand scheme of things because it would make Rori too odd for it to be an issue, and he was more concerned by his step-brother's steadily rising popularity.
Haesgard poisons Kit's uncle, knowing he would never win against the Devil Fruit user in a fair fight. Leif dies when Rori is around 14.
He then catches Rori talking to Leif one day and it's like the implications of Rori's observation haki being odd really hits him. He starts making plans to use that ability for himself, though Rori is smart enough not to fall for it.
Then, when Rori is 21, things start going wrong.
Because Rori is now old enough to take the crown.
Haesgard plots something that his mother and brother overhear, or at least rightfully assume is about to happen, and they decide to get Rori out of the country as quickly as possible.
Lavi dies helping Rori escape from the country, finding him as a ghost anywhere from a few hours to a few days later.
Rori travels, Lavi and Leif by his side, all across the North Blue. He uses the name Kit, covers his face with makeup because everyone in North Blue is aware of the fact the Lagtha Royal Family all have constellation-like freckles/beauty marks under their right eyes.
A few years later, Valstasia falls to Haesgard's lust for power. Haesgard's hubris caused a violent monster attack-- there are theories there were demons involved, and that is why so few people managed to flee the destruction-- that wiped out most of the country before it was even aware of there being an issue. Kit's mother and younger sister perish.
Almost no one leaves the country alive. The survivors that do scatter to the winds.
Across the world, however, a quiet rumor began circulating. One of hope for a kingdom steadily being forgotten to the world.
The youngest prince's body had never been found.
There are rumors, across the Grand Line. Survivors of a kingdom fallen from grace whisper of a young man with a constellation under his right eye.
His Highness Lagtha Rori still lives.
And he will reclaim the throne.
(Kit meeting Law as well as some outfit variants are beneath the cut)
Kit and Law meet on an island a few years later, only a few years after Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi have started the Heart Pirates. They've gather a few crew members by now and are making a name for themselves.
Law is passing time until he is allowed back onto the Tang (the rest of the crew was being taken down by a cold and Shachi and Penguin forbade him from coming back until he was no longer at risk of catching said virus) by going hunting for a cursed mirror. Kit is his Very Annoying Roommate at the tavern that also happens to be going after the mirror.
Things happen and Kit joins the crew with Law carrying the knowledge that Kit can interact with ghosts, but not the knowledge that Kit is a prince, nor that Cora is following Law as a ghost.
By the time Sabaody comes around, Kit is very firmly one of Law's closest friends-- so close they are in a qpr, and Law now knows that Cora is still by his side. The prince thing, however... that might still need some addressing.
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chaos au.
what if we are also a harbinger but like we are never in the picture, like a wild card, but one day childe sees us and is like "LET'S FIGHT" bc we're a higher rank.
while fighting imagine if we have a transformation close to foul legacy but it's just more feral/animal like. when moth sees us moth goes heart eyes and he is so happy like. another abyss person!!
bonus points if we are like bigger and moth is so happy, happy moth bf! also imagine if we tackle moth and moth bf gets kinda scared and shrieks. moth doesn't like to be tackled
OHOHOOOHOOHH YESSSS if Childe isn't fawning over you before he CERTAINLY is now!!! he doesn't see you very often since you're a Harbinger who stays out of the limelight but when he inevitably does he immediately requests to spar again!! this time it's less for a good fight and more to see your alternate form, but even that doesn't get very far before you simply leap onto Foul Legacy and smush him under your weight. he shrieks in surprise, struggling, but you simply rumble nonchalantly and settle into a more comfortable position
eventually he DOES manage to pry himself out from under you, and you simply yawn and quietly snuggle against him, Foul Legacy doing his best to contain his chirps of elation. he leans into your cuddles, the Abyssal magic radiating from you soothing his tumultuous heart- who knew that the ever-elusive Harbinger could be so sweet?
after that you're constantly approached by Childe, who you suppose you now consider a friend, asking you with pleading eyes to hold him again. it's so comforting, see- and Foul Legacy's never been HELD before!! and as much as you prefer solitude, you must admit it is nice to meet someone like you <33
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imperihoe-writes · 6 months
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley / fem!Reader
Summary:   Simon finds out his girlfriend is pregnant. He's determined to be the good father he never had.
Content:  civilian girlfriend, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, Ghost as a dad not just daddy, so much fluff, some mild sexual undertones
Word Count:   1.7k
Notes: Okay so this request could have gone two ways: either Ghost knows or doesn't know about the pregnancy. But I thought it would be kind of strange... like in a maybe-she-cheated-on-me way if she didn't tell him (because why else wouldn't she, realistically). I decided on making him super happy/fluffy/anxious with anticipation instead 🫶🏻
Two months ago, everything had started with a nervous phone call, a teary-eyed confession, stunned silence. She'd been trembling as she clutched the pregnancy test in one hand, phone pressed to her ear in the other.
Simon had been dead silent for several endless moments, and more tears had gathered in her eyes, because god damn, now was probably not the time, why had they ever thought it would be okay not to use condoms-
"Pregnant?" He whispered, oceans apart but his voice as close as though Simon was right beside her.
"Y-yes," she whispered back, staring at the little screen that read 3-4 weeks. "I think so."
"And you took only one, yeah?" He said, voice gentle. Hopeful. Was it because he hoped this one had malfunctioned, or because he wanted it to be true?
"Yes, I only had one at home, for-" emergencies, she almost said, but that felt wrong. Because despite the bad timing, a tiny flutter of excitement jumped around her belly at the prospect of having a child, Simon's baby. "Just in case."
"Alright, sweetheart," he exhaled on the other end of the line. "How about you go to the shop, and buy a couple more from different brands so we can be sure, hm?"
"Will you stay on the phone with me, Si?" She whispered, and he hummed in agreement.
They pointedly didn't talk about the potential baby on the way to the supermarket, with Simon giving her a rundown of what he'd been up to in the last week (probably highly censored for her sake) and her trying not to crash the car with all the nervous energy running through her.
She bought different ones, all the way from cheap to expensive, pink to blue, and chucked in some chocolate bars and crisps for good measure. Either way, she was most likely going to cry on the sofa tonight.
Simon's calm deep voice never left as she took the tests one after another, all lined up on the bathroom counter. They waited together, tense with anticipation.
"They're positive," she said, staring. "All of them."
"Oh, thank God," Simon groaned, and his voice was a little muffled as though he'd pressed his face into the pillow. 
Now, two months later, things had drastically changed in every single way one could imagine. For starters, they'd been forced to not only talk about money but also the fact that they didn't have a shared flat, let alone enough space for another tiny human. 
Simon wanted to buy a small house for them, but the thought of him spending that kind of money made her uneasy. They'd argued about it several times already, and he'd only given it a rest when she agreed to casually go to a couple listings in their preferred area during the upcoming months.
Not only was their shared Amazon account flooded with parenting and pregnancy-related guidebooks that Simon downloaded to his Kindle religiously, but an avalanche of parcels had started overflowing her living room as well.
XL packs of diapers, a crib, swaddling cloths, pacifiers, toys, a night light. All of it was delivered by increasingly familiar postmen, with her resigning to the fact that Simon was losing his mind.
"Honey," she whined into her phone one evening, pulling out a series of zoo animal-themed bath towels. "It's not even here yet!"
"She isn't here yet," he corrected her with a clearing of the throat. "And once she is, you'll thank me for being prepared."
"You don't even know if it's a girl," she groaned, folding the newest purchase away with an eye roll. 
"Of course I do," Simon replied with so much conviction that she almost believed him. "I was the one who-"
"Produced her?" She grinned, and he huffed a breath of amusement. 
"Yes," his voice was dark and smooth as silk, suddenly making her mouth run dry. 
"I miss you, Si," she whispered, playing with the drawstrings of her pyjama bottoms.
"Not long now, then I'll be home with you. Be a good girl and take care of yourself and my daughter until I'm back, yeah?"
It made her thighs clench a little, and judging by the knowing smile in Simon's voice, he knew exactly what he was doing to her and her hormones. Good lord, if she'd known that he would embrace being a father like this, the baby fever probably would have struck her way sooner.
"I don't want to wait," she pouted, and Simon chuckled.
"I know darlin', I know."
She was standing on tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd of people gathered around the double doors labelled arrivals. Many had come and gone already, but she knew that Simon often got stuck in additional security screenings and customs - so while the long wait sucked, it gave her some more time to gather herself.
When she'd stood in this exact spot three and a half months ago, she never would have guessed that it would be the last few weeks where it was only the two of them. 
No matter what happened from here on out, there would always be something that bound Simon to her, that spoke of the love they had for one another: a child. 
And while her boyfriend was hellbent on it being a girl, she secretly hoped for a mini version of him. One she could hold and adore whenever his daddy was away, whose dark brown eyes and pale lashes would surely steal everybody's heart in no time at all. 
She wondered if it would be a quiet kid, perhaps a bookworm or an animal lover? Would she be the one to teach them how to swim? Was Simon going to take his alleged daughter on the back of his motorcycle to school, just to show off? 
Smiling and stroking her stomach absentmindedly, she almost missed the tall frame of her boyfriend as he squeezed himself past a group of elderly men, looking for her. When Simon spotted her, he made a straight line towards her, and people hastily stepped out of his way when it became clear that he was ready to go straight through them if he had to.
Under normal circumstances, she might have been a little embarrassed by all the curious and irritated glances that fell on them, but then Simon was right there, yanking his facemask down.
He was beaming so widely, that the scar bisecting his lower lip and chin disappeared almost entirely from being stretched so far. 
Simon scooped her up in his arms, uncaring of the heavy backpack he was still carrying and then twirled her around a few times, face buried in her neck and shoulder. She laughed, trying to hold on, overwhelmed by the completely uncharacteristic display of affection but pleased regardless.
"Look at you," he smiled as he gently lowered her back to her own feet, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're glowing." 
"I think that's just something they tell pregnant women so they feel better about the whole thing," she grinned, accepting the quick kiss he pressed to her mouth and nose.
Simon rolled his eyes, grabbed her hand and steered her towards the airport exit.
"I don't think she's really in there," Simon frowned, examining her stomach from all sides. They were lying on the sofa, with her only in sweatpants and a bra while Simon was draped over her legs, face practically squished into her tummy. "It's so quiet. And you don't look any different!"
The accusation in his voice made her snort, and she gently carded her fingers through his curls. He put his ear back to her stomach, breathing deeply.
"What, do you expect her to say hello daddy, please don't disturb my nap time? The only thing you're going to hear is my stomach growling from being neglected so much."
Simon's head whipped up so fast, she would have scooted back in fright if not for the heavy weight between her legs. 
"Are you hungry? Why didn't you say anything? We can have snacks before dinner is ready-"
Grabbing his head between both hands until she could squish his cheeks together and shut him up that way, his girlfriend stared into Simon's eyes with an exasperated smile. She leaned forward and kissed his puckered lips for a moment, then released him.
"Si, while I would never say no to snacks, you need to relax. I'm not starving, and the baby isn't either, because that's what you're really worried about, isn't it?"
The guilty shake of the head and half-hearted denial made her roll her eyes and pull him closer again. Simon rested his head on her chest, arms wrapped tightly under her back. They lay there while listening to the early October rain knock against her living room windows.
"She's the size of a lime now, did you know?" He mumbled. "And we'll be able to hear her heartbeat during the scan tomorrow. At the end of the first trimester babies usually-"
Sighing happily, she wiggled a bit deeper into his embrace and listened to Simon's deep voice as he eventually launched into a detailed list of questions he had prepared for the doctor already. 
And it felt amazing to know that the man who possessed her heart in its entirety, who had carved a space for her in his life full of violence and death, could be so tender, could change so much for the sake of their family. 
"I love you, Simon," she interrupted him, and he blinked, turning his head so his chin rested on her sternum.
"I love you too, honey," he smiled. "You okay?"
"Never been better."
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Not me staring at my positive covid test like... this was not what we just wrote about, body. 😭
But still: Blushing, kicking my feet, giggling. I absolutely adore writing these tough men be super soft for their significant other - and I always headcanon Ghost to be like that in private. How chatty and excited he'd be, now that he'll have a family, I- 😭
My other COD writing can be found in this masterlist, as well as my shorter COD headcanons. 🫶🏻
I hope the person who requested this liked it, and that everybody else found something to smile about as well! Stay safe, until next time. - A✨
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supercutszns · 2 months
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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo
Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶
true colours; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader
synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.
warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending
notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈
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You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 
This year, there were two. 
As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 
You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.
Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 
It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 
It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 
Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 
Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 
Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”
(You came in fifteenth.)
You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?
It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 
“You alright there, sunshine?” 
He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 
“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.
You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  
The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 
Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 
“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 
Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 
They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”
He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”
Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 
So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 
You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 
Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”
It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 
Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.
Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 
“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 
You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”
He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 
“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 
Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 
You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 
If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 
"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 
You haven’t talked to him since. 
It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 
“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”
The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 
“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”
You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”
“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 
“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”
“Lee!”
“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.
You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”
“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.
The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 
“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”
There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 
“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 
“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 
“No to the first, yes to the second.”
You wish you said no to both. 
The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 
He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 
The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.
Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:
You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 
It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 
Luke, calling your name. 
At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”
He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”
There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 
His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 
“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”
His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.
“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 
“I’m not—”
“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 
He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 
“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 
His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”
“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”
“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”
“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”
There’s a lull.
“What?” You blink stupidly. 
“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”
His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”
A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”
His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”
“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."
You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.
“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 
The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”
“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”
The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”
“Not even a little.”
“But you’ve got so many other—”
“I want you.”
“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”
"Your knee is fine!"
"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"
“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”
It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 
He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.
“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”
Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”
He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”
You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.
“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”
Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 
In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.
When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.
She's given you two more rainbows.
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