wicked, wayward, way delightful

Icon Post: Midna

unactive — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 04:11:15 GMT

23 Midna icons

Teasers:

1	2	3

4	5	6

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10	11	12

13	14	15

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19	20	21

22	23

fanfiction--untitled for now

unactive — Sat, 04 Jun 2011 03:42:01 GMT

Gift fic for fire_lord_azula. Rated PG at the most. Pairing is Ursa/Azula if you squint.

Ursa's return to the Fire Nation was a quiet one. She had been brought in late at night, at Fire Lord Dumb-Dumb's request to preserve her privacy and to appease his bleeding heart. It was pathetic.

She did not arrive in flourishing robes of red and gold. She wore earthy browns and neutral tones, simple and plain. She was pale, skin weather-worn and set with heavy lines around her eyes.

Azula was disgusted. Not only because Ursa had returned. But because Zuko was allowing her to parade about in enemy colors. The boy was a fool and simply asking for an assassin’s blade to find sheath in his ribs.

She wouldn't be altogether displeased with that outcome. At least he would be out of her hair and off her throne.

It was with that mindset, that she found her mother at the turtleduck pond. The scene itself was not odd, aside from Zuko missing from her side. He had been attached to her hip since her return. Azula was ready to leave, but was spotted before she had the opportunity.

“Hello, Azula. Won't you join me?” There was a smile in her voice and shifting grass. The temptation to refuse was strong, but Azula silently agreed, no sign of discomfort or hesitation in her perfect posture.

“I haven't seen you in some time, Azula. How have you been?”

“Well enough.” Her words were clipped and Ursa glanced sideways at her daughter.

She broke the bread in two halves and offered one to Azula. “Feed them with me?”

“I'll pass.”

“Azula...”

“Mother, in case you haven't noticed, I am not nine years old anymore. And I'm not Zuko.”

Ursa fell silent at those words, absently tearing the bread into tiny chunks to feed the ducks. The silence between them was tense, hard and angry. It was as though Ursa could feel the resentment radiating from her daughter in hard jagged waves. “I know I haven't always been the best mother,” she said quietly as she fed the birds the last of her bread. She shifted, turning to face Azula and brushing a hand across her shoulder. “Please, give me the chance to make this up to you. I don't want to lose anymore time.”

Azula cut her eyes toward her mother, narrowed and dangerous. “Why should I?”

There was silence that followed was long, uneasy. Typical. Ursa never did know how to hold a proper conversation with her. There was never any talking. Only scolding. This was obviously a waste of time.

Though the very moment she decided to take her leave, she felt Ursa's hand on her own. It was softer than she imagined it to be and she marveled at it for a moment. Her perception remained keen, however, and her mother's shifting body did not go unnoticed. The gap between them was closing slowly. When her mother spoke again, her voice was soft, edged with an emotion Azula had only ever mimicked. Regret. Sorrow.

“Because, Azula, I want to make this right. If you would allow it. We have been...strained, I know.”

More than strained. Azula thought, but kept silent. Biting commentary would stall the conversation and Azula was curious about its direction.

Ursa continued, her fingers curling tighter around her daughter's. “And I know that this will not fix itself over night. I would like it very much if we could be...friends?”

It was Azula's turn for silence. Ursa was reaching out to her, any fool could see that. And she did not know if she wanted to spurn the attempt or use it to make Zuko's life miserable. Ursa did not deserve the grace of her presence, still she could hardly pass up a chance to antagonize Fire Lord Zuzu.

With a quiet sigh, Azula spoke. “We'll see.”

Ursa laughed quietly, earning a curious glance from the younger Princess. “I suppose that will do,” she said, before leaning over and planting a kiss on Azula's cheek. There was little in this world that could stun Azula to silence. Ursa's kiss managed to accomplish it, though her recovery came seconds later.

She stood, composed as ever, smoothing her bangs as she spoke. “If you'll excuse me. I have other things to tend to.”

Namely, ensuring Ursa never saw the blush creeping up from beneath her collar.

Fanfiction -- Those Who Favor Fire

unactive — Sat, 28 May 2011 01:15:51 GMT

Title: Those Who Favor Fire
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Pairing: Zuko/Azula
Rating: T for this drabble set.
Word count: 420
Warnings: Incest, AU
Author's Notes: Originally for a meme I did in my LJ. Decided to make it apart of the AU I've been dabbling in. Based on this image.
Summary: Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. - Robert Frost. Zuko may wear the crown and robes, but Azula pulls the strings.

In the middle of the night, Zuko shifts closer and kisses Azula's back, right where the curve of her spine begins.

She stirs, to hide the want waking in her belly. She burrows deeper into her pillow, voice muffled. What she says sounds something like 'what, Zuzu?'

“I'm sorry. Were you sleeping?” He asks and she rolls over to look at him, eyes narrow, but clear. As if she had never fallen asleep at all. She was always ready, wasn't she?

“My eyes were closed, weren't they?”

“That doesn't mean you were asleep. You always lie, remember?”

The next night, it is Azula's turn.

She pins him down easily, hands gripping his wrists tight enough to bruise. She was much stronger than she looked.

“We're going to play a game, Zuzu,” she purred, with that upturn of the corner of her mouth. He shivers. There was never any way of telling what was behind that smile.

“What game, Azula?” He asks, breathless with anticipation.

“Let's see how long it will take to break you.” She leans down, flames kissing his neck before her lips follow suit.

Zuko would sport another scar in the morning.

In the morning, Zuko and Azula must return to being siblings. Which is not so hard when you think about it.

Zuzu is Fire Lord and politics the day away. Azula is only the Puppet Master and must wait for the opportune moments to move her Pai Sho tiles across the board. So she bends to keep her form.

It is inevitable that Zuko passes the bending court during the day and when he does, he catches sight of the nuance in Azula's bending. It is a signal, carrying the weight of the world to Zuko.

Want you. Now

In his chambers, she waits by the window. He kisses her shoulder to greet her.

“Do you love me?” Zuko asks that night.

Azula looks at him in the mirror, brow furrowed. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Morbid curiosity.” He laughs a little. Azula did not love. There were only varying degrees of hate. She is Ozai's child, after all. “So, do you love me?”

“Do you love me?” She counters and gets up, to cross the room. She stands at the foot of the bed, arms folded.

He gets up, and places his hands on her shoulders. “Probably more than I should. Now will you answer my question?”

She pushes his hands away then curls her fingers in his hair. “Maybe.” And she kisses him before he can protest.

Fanfiction -- Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us

unactive — Wed, 25 May 2011 03:31:34 GMT

Title: Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Characters: Azula, Zuko (not particularly shippy)
Prompt: #12 - Lose
Word Count: 170
Rating: PG
Summary: We cross our bridges and burn them behind us. And the only memory left is the smell of smoke. A collection of Azula-centric drabbles.
Disclaimer: Not my toys~!
Notes: Table here

"You would do anything to win, wouldn't you?"

Azula looked up at him, from her simple meal of noodles. Earth Kingdom food was so drab. "You sound like you don't trust me."

Zuko did not budge, hands clenched in tight fists by his side. Azula thought he looked silly, too stiff and angry. Silly Zuzu. All worked up over peasants and traitors. She would never understand him. "It will work. You worry too much."

"Do you have to kill him?" Eyebrows raised. His breath was held, Azula could tell by the flush in his cheeks.

"Why, Zuko, that sounds dangerously close to treason." She brushed invisible debris from her perfect skin and returned her gaze, sharp on Zuko. "Would you rather I kill you?"

Zuko looked away, hands clenched tighter still.

She smiled as she rose from her seat, crossing the room and patting Zuko's arm. "It will work."

"What if--..."

"Zuko," she said firmly, finger pressed against his lips to silence him, "This plan is perfect. There is no room for 'what ifs'."

Fanfiction -- How Plenty the Raindrops

unactive — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 05:56:28 GMT

Title: How Plenty the Raindrops
Fandom: Golden Sun: Dark Dawn
Characters: Eoleo + Himi - Not super extra shippy. But it could be interpreted as friendship.
Prompt: #17 - Limitation
Word Count: 127
Rating: G
Summary: Through the good and the bad, Eoleo just wants to live.
Disclaimer: Not my toys!
Notes: How Plenty the Raindrops will hopefully be an epic Eoleo fic set. We'll see if I don't get lazy and chicken out.

When they first met, Eoleo brushed her off. Just another kid for him to watch out for while they were on this quest to save the world.

But she was formidable and strong and made the earth beneath their feet shake violently, felling those dark beasts born of the Eclipse So Grave It Would Steal All Light. Then she would walk on, silent and determined. Eoleo wanted to say something, but there were no words to describe her grace, and so he said nothing.

Soon they fought, side by side, Fire and Earth, woven together in matching strength of wills and determination in their cause.

He spun flames and burned while she stood firm, and rock solid, one an almost perfect compliment of the other.

Claims Table: Eoleo

unactive — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 22:45:44 GMT

Mars
Mars is the element of fire, and therefore encompasses fire, heat, and lava. It's also seen aligned with spirits, akin to how Venus is also aligned with haunting and death.

#01 - Heat	#02 - Fire	#03 - Burn	#04 - Heart	#05 - Passion
#06 - Escape	#07 - Climb	#08 - Freedom	#09 - Bright	#10 - Sun
#11 - Summer	#12 - Thunder	#13 - Warm	#14 - Candle	#15 - Red
#16 - Unconditional	#17 - Limitation	#18 - Aura	#19 - Chaos	#20 - Believe
#21 - Skeptical	#22 - Fight	#23 - Power	#24 - Magic	#25 - Kiss
#26 - Embrace	#27 - Sensual	#28 - Seduction	#29 - Broken	#30 - Mend
#31 - Enemy	#32 - Ally	#33 - Saint	#34 - Sinner	#35 - Rumor
#36 - Blood	#37 - Grieve	#38 - War	#39 - Battle	#40 - Conquer
#41 - Dusk	#42 - Dawn	#43 - Surface	#44 - Bury	#45 - Promise
#46 - Hot	#47 - Web	#48 - Tangle	#49 - Time	#50 - Sword

Icons Post: Golden Sun

unactive — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 22:11:38 GMT

42 Golden Sun icons (GBA series and the DS game)

Teasers:


1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10	11	12

13	14	15

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40	41	42

[x] No hotlinking.
[x] Comments are &hearts
[x] Textless =/= base
[x] Credit not required, but appreciated.

Like What you see? Why not watch for updates

Fanfiction -- Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us

unactive — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 04:04:48 GMT

Title: Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Characters: Azula, Zhao ; Azula/Zhao
Prompt: #1 - Temptation
Word Count: 589
Rating: T
Summary: We cross our bridges and burn them behind us. And the only memory left is the smell of smoke. A collection of Azula-centric drabbles.
Disclaimer: Not my toys!
Notes: Table is here

Shore leave was always a blessed reprieve.

In the Earth Kingdom among the lowly savages, he was a monster and he reveled in his status. But here among his own, he was a praised hero and his ego swelled accordingly.

Promotions came as just rewards and Zhao carried the Fire Lord's approval like a badge of honor, worth more than the treasures in his Sovereign's storehouse.

And the children too, sang his praises, gathered on the sides of the streets while the army marched, banner held high, and they were cheering for these hometown heroes. But they did not understand, how war torn and broken the world had become.

None of them truly understood. Except her.

But Azula was always the exception. She was a dangerous child, with eyes of gold and smiles as deadly as the flames under her command.

She came to him often, when the crowds were gone and the fanfare had stopped. And he would regale her with tales of his campaign through the Earth Kingdom. She listened with an intensity not normal for girls her age and would smirk when he mentioned capturing villages and hanging the Fire Nation's banner from the governor’s manor.

“Tell me more, Commander.” She would say in a voice deceptive and sweet and Zhao could not help but oblige.

But eventually, there was nothing left to tell and Zhao began to wonder why she continued to visit. Yet, there she was, rummaging through his quarters and the time was beyond what was proper, dressed in a silk robe and hair pulled back into a precise ponytail. He tried not to notice.

“What are you looking for?”

“You have so much...junk. There has to be something interesting here.”

Zhao frowned while Azula crowed her triumph and she turned with her prize grasped delicately in her hands. “Where did you find this?”

“There was a library in the desert. And I only had a limited time to take what I could before it sank into the sand again.”

Azula toyed with the wax seal with a sharp nail. “You never told me that story,” she said, eyebrow arched.

“There is nothing to tell.” He folded his arms over his chest and tried not to watch the way her hips swayed as she walked up to him. She pressed a hand to his chest, her lips red and parted in a tempting smile.

“Secrets, Commander? I find that very interesting.” Her voice dipped to a dangerous whisper and she dipped her head.

“Is that all, Prin--cess?” His voice lost when she leaned over and grazed his neck with her mouth. “Azula...” He caught her wrist when he felt her her hand slip over his chest and giving the muscles a gentle squeeze.

“Mmm?”

“Perhaps you should leave.”

“Is that what you want?”

That was a question that did not have an answer. Zhao couldn't ignore her suggestive glances and her flirty smiles. How could he, when they were so obviously deliberate.

“I didn't think so.”

“How old are you?” His blood hammered in his ears and he did not hear her answer.

She simply laughed and slowly, teasingly untied the sash around her waist. “I don't think it matters. Do you?”

“Your father...”

“Won't find out. Unless you tell him.” The silk slipped down her shoulders, pooled at her feet. She reached up, lacing her fingers around his neck. “Welcome home, Soldier.”

Fanfiction -- Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us

unactive — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 06:39:55 GMT

Title: Bridges Crossed and Burned Behind Us
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Characters: Azula, Ursa, mentions Zhao.
Prompt: #10 - Lie
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
Summary: We cross our bridges and burn them behind us. And the only memory left is the smell of smoke. A collection of Azula-centric drabbles.
Disclaimer: Not my toys!
Notes: My table is here

Azula was six years old when she told her first lie.

It had been an accident. Mother had wanted to know if she had finished her lessons for the day. And Azula did not want her Mother to know that Zhao had taken her to the docks to watch the warships come in and then to the prison so she could see the prisoners of war put into their cages.

Mother found her back in the study hall and asked so sternly. “Did you finish your lessons?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Ursa seemed satisfied and did not question her again.

claims table: azula

unactive — Sat, 19 Feb 2011 03:09:59 GMT

7_lies
Author: unactive
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Claim: Princess Azula

1. A white lie

2. Mask

3. Illusion

4. Exploit

5. Dahlia

6. Honesty is overrated

7. Doubt

Progress: 0/7

claims table: azula

unactive — Sat, 19 Feb 2011 00:30:19 GMT

001.	Temptation	002.	Addiction	003.	Greed	004.	Faith	005.	Delusional
006.	Innocence	007.	Stained	008.	Procrastinate	009.	Dirty	010.	Lie
011.	Forgive	012.	Lose	013.	Want	014.	Bury	015.	Choke
016.	Burn	017.	Change	018.	Regret	019.	Slip	020.	Smirk
021.	Fragile	022.	Secret	023.	Past	024.	Fantasy	025.	Enough
026.	Dream	027.	Waste	028.	Hope	029.	Note	030.	Hug
031.	Passion	032.	Hold	033.	Right	034.	Wrong	035.	Strong
036.	Wind	037.	Paranoid	038.	Moment	039.	Song	040.	Touch
041.	Shake	042.	Psychic	043.	Spirit	044.	Magick	045.	God
046.	Ghost	047.	Belong	048.	Tear(s)	049.	Drown	050.	Writers' Choice

Icon Post: Legend of Zelda

unactive — Sat, 05 Feb 2011 04:00:36 GMT

Teasers:

1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10

[x] No hotlinking.
[x] Comments are &hearts
[x] Textless =/= base
[x] Credit not required, but appreciated.

Like What you see? Why not watch for updates

Fic: We Need the Storm | Avatar: The Last Airbender | Zuko/Azula

unactive — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 22:30:29 GMT

Title: We Need the Storm
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Pairing: Zuko/Azula
Rating: R for non-graphic smuts.
Word count: 820
Warnings: Incest
Author's Notes: for Porn Battle. Thanks to kadabralin for the beta.
Summary: It is not light that we need, but fire; ...We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. - Fredrick Douglass

Zuko has a sickness. He does not know when to stop. He likes things that are bad for him, which is why he does not dismiss her when she opens the door to his bedroom.

“What are you doing in here?” Zuko demands, and the pages of the scroll he's reading smolders.

Azula simply smiles and slinks into the room. Her sleeping robe is deep red, matches her ruby lips. “I wanted to welcome you home,” she says, her voice like silk. Zuko shudders. That's a lie. Azula always lies.

He watches her, the way she glides across the floor, how her robe splits and reveals her thigh. It wasn't like that before, he thinks and he looks away when he realizes he's staring. “Thanks.”

But Azula is not done. She moves closer, sits on his desk and crumples the papers. “Stop,” he hisses and stands. Azula tilts her head and gives him a lazy smirk.

“That's not a proper welcome, Zuzu,” she murmurs and she grabs him and pulls him close. Zuko must brace himself against the desk to keep from falling, arms on either side of her. Her robe falls open and he can see the tiniest peeks of the curves of her breasts. But he fixes his gaze on her frightfully similar eyes. She's trying to get a rise out of him. It's working.

“We stopped this a long time ago, Azula,” he replies, and he tries to pull away. He will not look down. He will not. “Let me go. This isn't right.”

Azula laughs and lets her hands fall. Zuko turns to leave. He's done with this.

“I wonder if it will be enough,” she says idly as she crosses her legs and leans back.

Zuko stops. He knows he shouldn't listen. But her mouth is like a drug and he is high just from the words that fall from her serpent’s tongue.

“I wonder if Dad liking you will be enough.” She taps her chin. “I wonder if playing house with Mai will be enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She's not me, you know.” She laughs, pressing a delicate hand to her mouth.

Zuko's shoulders tense and he turns to look at her, brow furrowed.

“You and I both know you can't get enough of me. You'll come back. You always do.” She leaned forward, her hair loose and hanging over her shoulders like dark curtains. “Poor little predictable Zuzu.”

He grabs her wrist and jerks her toward him. “Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.” She slides across the desk as he pulls her toward him.

Zuko's eyes narrow. He knows where this is going. He knows what she is doing. And he falls for it every time.

Poor predictable Zuzu.

He kisses her, pressing her hard against him. She returns the kiss with fervor.

“This is the last time,” he whispers against her neck, voice hoarse.

She laughs dryly. “Whatever you say, Zuzu.”

“I mean it.” He frowns but reaches for the ties that hold her robe close.

“Of course you do.” She smiles, always smiling and his frown deepens. He would do anything to get that smile off of her face. He kisses her without warning, but she is ready. Azula is always ready.

The robe slips past her shoulders and pooled around her waist. He presses a kiss to her throat and bites gently at the skin and “Oh Zuzu that's so good.”

He doesn't want to like how she murmurs his name, low like a purr. He doesn't want to dwell on how she clings to him as he slides into her and her back arches. She brands his back in long streaks with sharp nails and Zuko doesn't want to think about how it'll probably hurt for days.

He did not have to dwell on it for long. It's impossible to think when he is coming undone so quickly. Azula's head tilts back and Zuko can feel flames cutting through the air, dangerously close by his head. And just like that, it is done and Azula rests her cheek against his shoulder.

“We can't stay like this,” He says and pulls away from her.

Azula reties her robe and adjusts her hair and is leaving.

“Where are you going?” She pauses mid-step. She knows that tone and turns to look at Zuko. He's settling on the bed and watching her expectantly. “I want a proper welcome home.”

She grins and happily joins him. Later, as she lay curled up against him, arm draped possessively over his torso, Zuko is wide awake and staring the ceiling. He knows he is ill. He knows, because surely loving Azula this way – or at all – was fatal.

Zuko has a sickness.

And her name is Azula.

Drabble: Ganondorf/Midna

unactive — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 08:00:02 GMT

TITLE: Constructing a Tragedy
AUTHOR: unactive
FANDOM: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
PAIRING: Ganondorf/Midna
GENRE: Het/Gen
LETTER: C for climax - Table 4
SUMMARY: They were already such tragic creatures, weren't they?
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 887
WARNINGS/SPOILERS: Vaaague sexual references \o\
AUTHOR'S NOTE: N/A
DISCLAIMER: Not my toys.

Ganondorf's castle was massive, like a jagged outline against a blue backdrop. The rooms were cold, unfeeling and lacked the vibrancy that had once lived there. It had taken Midna two weeks to traverse but one floor in its entirety. This floor housed her bedroom at one end and Ganondorf's at the other.

The sun had set, on this final day of discovery and Midna stood, her hands clasped behind her back as she debated on whether or not to knock on the Pig's door. She had done her best to avoid him since the night of their dinner and he released her. And so far, she had been successful. But the castle had become terribly lonely. Quiet at all hours of the day and the only company was not really company at all. The guards and servants had been given specific orders not to converse with her and they followed them with the strictest obedience. Midna had tried every trick she could think of to get a reaction from one of them, but each and every turn only ended with her disappointment.

So it had become almost no surprise that Twilight's Princess found herself outside the room of the one person in this steel labyrinth that would give her the human contact she had come to crave. Then she balked. What in the world had been on her mind that she would even consider consorting with him. The Pig would have to learn that she was a stubborn woman in her own right. If he was so insistent on keeping her in this cage without bars, she would challenge him every step of the way.

Though the moment she had turned to leave, the door opened and heat of the room rushed out in a wave. The glow of the candles made shadows on the floor, and she watched with a frown as a large one overtook her own. Ganondorf chuckled and rested an arm against the frame of the door. “May I help you?”

She scoffed, refused to turn around. “You may. Curling up in a corner and dying would be a tremendous help, actually.”

“Really, should someone of such noble upbringing be speaking in such vulgar terms?”

She whirled around to face him, stopping short when she saw his state of undress; bare from the waist up and his hair unraveled and resting in a red wave down his back. He arched an eyebrow at her silence then smirked. “Oh my. I have done the impossible and rendered my own little chatterbox speechless.”

Midna's hand rested on her hip and she tilted her head at Ganondorf. Was this the game he wanted to play? Fine, she would play. “It will take a lot more than just your flab to impress me, Pig.”

Because of how fast he had moved from the door's entry, she had expected him to strike her down. He had moved with such speed, she had no time to scramble from his path and then she was caught between a wall and his body. His massive arms on either side of her to prevent her from moving. “Why are you so mean to me, Midna?”

“Because I don't like you. I thought you were smart enough to figure that one out on your own.”

“But have I not been generous to you? I spared you, spared your pathetic people. You've only repaid me in barbs. My pride and patience can only take so much.”

She steeled her stance and looked the Dark Lord in his eyes. “Your 'generosity' is nothing but a hoax. My people suffer because of you. And when I'm able to stop you, I will.”

“Your magic is laughable, Midna. Do you really think it can stand against me?”

“Why don't we find out?”

He paused, his features settling into a thoughtful expression. “I like to think of myself as a reasonable man. I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement that doesn't involve needlessly slaughtering your people.”

“I have nothing to give you.”

“You are a smart woman.” He smiled down at her and tapped her cheek with the pad of his forefinger. “I'm sure you will think of something.”

He turned to leave her and she frowned. “You don't intend to make this easy do you?”

“That is entirely up to you, Midna.” The door had creaked as its owner began pushing it closed, but stopped when Midna approached him.

“I know what you want and if it'll set me free, then I'll do it.”

He looked amused. This was going to be interesting. “What, pray tell, do I want?”

She slipped by him, her gait jerky, entering the warmth of the room and turned around to face him. “Me.”

Ganondorf folded his arms over his chest, a smirk curling his mouth. It was clear by the look on her face, the seriousness of her stance, that she truly meant what she was saying. He was amused, to say the least. This wasn't the first time someone thought sex could be used as a bargaining chip against him. But he would indulge her. After all, every contract had a loophole.

“Very well.”

Icon Post: Final Fantasy X

unactive — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 06:30:19 GMT

Teasers:

1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10	11	12

13	14	15

16	17	18

19	20	21

22	23	24

25	26	27

28

[x] No hotlinking.
[x] Comments are &hearts
[x] Textless =/= base
[x] Credit not required, but appreciated.

Like What you see? Why not watch for updates

Fic: Auron/Yuna

unactive — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 07:32:50 GMT

Title: Only, simply.
Pairing: Auron/Yuna
Rating: R for implied smuts.
A/N: None
Summary: Auron is a lot of things.

Auron has freckles. Far too many and far too faint to count. But they're there nonetheless, across his nose and dotting along beneath his eyes. Yuna would never have known they were there at all, had she not slipped beneath the blankets with him and curled up close to him, citing the storm and some unholy dream as a source of her sleeplessness.

It was quiet as they lay there, summoner and guardian, side by side. Strangers really. Auron was quiet, save for his shallow breathing and Yuna wondered if he needed to breathe at all. Did legends breathe? Did they eat? Did they sleep at all? She wanted to ask but felt silly for thinking to.

There are scars as well. She could count those. Fourteen. Some thick and twining and twisting in crisscross patterns across his shoulder blades and down his spine. Yuna pressed her palms to the flesh, numb from burden and loss. His skin is surprisingly cool to her touch and she feels some need to curl up closer to warm him up.

There is also a dimple in his hip, a dip in the skin where the bone had chipped away, lost in a battle with a fierce fiend. He shrugged and told it mattered not. Braska had been saved and to Auron, his duty was far more important than some inconsequential part of himself.

Yuna wanted to remember. She wanted to remember every nick and every dimple and every imperfection that had made Auron a legend. Her fingers moved, featherlight and soft and finally Auron stirred. He rolled over to face her.

The cowl was gone, as were his glasses and Yuna couldn't help but think how exposed he looked without them.

The scar along his eye was not as thick as she imagined it to be. It was jagged along the edges and it dug deep were it sealed his eye from the rest of the world. Her fingertip traced it's length and stopped just where the uneven fleshed ended.

His stubble tickled. Yuna knew because she had leaned up to kiss his cheek, chaste and warm against his flesh and his seeing eye closed. She pulled back to study him and for once, Auron looked human, instead of so far off and so unreachable.

For once, he was only simply Auron and Yuna learned she never wanted him to be anything else.

Perhaps it is instinct that drove him, Yuna is not sure, as his hand follows the curve of her shoulder and his palm isn't as calloused as she thought it would be (her gratitude paid to leather gloves). “Yuna,” he whispered, not as the legend but only, simply Auron and the summoner finds herself responding to the call.

Sheets rustle beneath her, beneath him too (at least Yuna thought so, because somehow the gap between them has closed), and for a moment she had forgotten how to breathe. Because that same moment Auron claimed her lips with his.

Auron was needy. He was desperate too, mouth pressed hard to hers. Her hands settle on his shoulders and there are scars there too (fifteen. Or was it sixteen?). And just as soon as it begun, it had ended, teeth dragging across her bottom lip and Yuna whimpered softly. “Yuna...” There was something else there, just at the tip of his tongue. She moved his hands to cup his cheeks and mix matched eyes fixed on auburn.

“Auron.” That voice she used was not her own. It was low and throaty and filled her with something she had never felt before, something she could not quite place. It made her worry. Was it wrong to feel this way? Perhaps. But they were from Spira, where history repeated and people lived and died by Sin. Happiness had to be taken, pinned down, and secured.

The Legend shifted again, propping up on an arm and lifting himself over her. Her arms follow, clasping about his neck.

Auron was experienced and knew where to touch to send shivers down her spine and earn soft moans from her throat. His hands curve over her hips and Yuna wanted more.

Her hands are tentative, inexperienced, but eager to please nonetheless. They find the waistband of his breeches, tugging experimentally. She could hear him hiss quietly at the air touching his covered skin and she hesitated to continue. His mouth was at her throat, kissing and biting gently and he whispered something incomprehensible. Yuna wanted to think it was “please” and how she wanted to please him.

With renewed courage, she pressed forward and the breeches dipped past his waist. The knots that held her skirt secure were slowly coming undone, the fabric brushing against her skin. She gasped quietly, her head tilting back and heat pooling in her stomach.

His body is slow and steady and feels so solid as he braced himself over her. He watched, waiting and it looked like he had stopped breathing. “Don't forget to breathe,” Yuna whispered, parting her knees and she smiled at him.

Auron was gentle, surprisingly so, as he eased himself into her. At first there was pain, and Yuna wanted to twist away. But her hands remained firm on his shoulders, heels digging into the mattress. He waited for her to signal him before he began to move. Her body tensed and relaxed and her back arched. The pain was fading and all that was left was Yuna and Auron. Only simply Auron.

Breathing became difficult, fingers curling and uncurling against unfeeling flesh. Her name was on his lips and a flush colored her cheeks. “Auron,” she whispered in reply, voice a gentle purr.

He jerks finally, hands tightly twisted in the sheets beneath her, air caught in his throat and there's a cry from his lips. He fell away from her, chest heaving and sweat thin on his brow. She curled up close, resting her cheek against his arm and sighed.

She was content. Truly content. Because here in this moment, she was only Yuna and him? He was only simply Auron.

And Yuna wanted to remember.

Icon post:: Legend of Zelda

unactive — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 03:43:05 GMT

[10] Manga
[16] Other media

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Drabble: Ganondorf/Midna

unactive — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 23:28:26 GMT

Icon Post: Legend of Zelda

unactive — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 22:17:14 GMT


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LoZ Tutorial

unactive — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 19:05:08 GMT

From this: to this:

Get your base. This one is mine. I like the blurry effect. But sharpening it, will make the lines a little more crisp. This is my base from the Oracle of Ages/Seasons manga.

Follow this tutorial up until step 8, to get the colors on your base. This is what I ended up with. And if you're curious, these are the colors I used for the skin, hair, and eyes: Skin: #ffe2c2 Clothes: #629e16 Eyes: #54b7cd Hair: #f9d276

Create a new layer above your base and flood fill it with #005fcd. Set layer to saturation @ 35%. Gross looking right? We'll be fixing that shortly.
Create a selective colors layer with these settings: Reds: -49, 0, 0, +45 Yellows: 0, 0, +37, -64 Cyans: +100, 0, 0, 0 Neutrals: 0, 0, 0, +7

Another selective colors layer this time with this: Reds: -65, 0, +65, +65 Yellows: 0, 0, -85, 0 Neutrals: 0, -32, -40, +7

Create a new layer and flood fill with black. Set this layer to soft light @ 100%. Now it's really nasty looking. This next step is completely optional. But take your line tool with the line set at about 45 pixels. On any side of your base that looks good, create an uneven line. Sort of like this.

Take this texture (made by ?) and paste it to the top. Set it to darken @ 100%. Add any effects you want and flatten. And you're done. :). This is my finished product.

More examples using this:

Icon Post: Legend of Zelda

unactive — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 02:08:10 GMT

9 Link icons

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Drabble: Ganondorf/Midna

unactive — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 03:50:25 GMT

TITLE: Constructing a Tragedy
AUTHOR: unactive
FANDOM: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
PAIRING: Ganondorf/Midna. Kind of. If you squint.
GENRE: Het/Gen
LETTER: A for awry - Table 4
SUMMARY: They were already such tragic creatures, weren't they?
RATING: G
WORD COUNT: 147
WARNINGS/SPOILERS: None, unless you haven't finished Twilight Princess.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The pairing will be more pronounced in the subsequent drabbles.
DISCLAIMER: Not my toys.

Their world had always been one of peace, quiet, and calm and fitting for the shadows they had become. It was easy to become complacent, lulled by routine and a sense of security they had never felt before. They walked with the heartbeat of their world.

It had become such an innate, natural part of the lives they lead, that with Ganondorf's arrival, came such a shock that rippled to the Twilight Realm's very core. The denizens were thrown into chaos and had no way to return to the peace they had once known. It was gone.

And Ganondorf made sure to stamp out all hope.

Their princess became a prize, a symbol of Ganondorf's victory over them. And they, in effect, became empty shells. Midna was gone and without her, picking up the pieces of what used to be their lives would be all but impossible.

Icon Post: Legend of Zelda

unactive — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 22:32:02 GMT

Teasers:

Notes: Just trying out a new coloring technique. I quite like the results.


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Claims Table: Ganondorf/Midna

unactive — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 21:03:30 GMT

01. A	awry	10. J	journey	19. S	solemn
02. B	blackness	11. K	knowledge	20. T	treasure
03. C	climax	12. L	lucky	21. U	unreal
04. D	damage	13. M	mundane	22. V	vastness
05. E	eon	14. N	nightmare	23.W	wicked
06. F	fallout	15. O	ordeal	24. X	x-ray
07. G	glamor	16. P	pirate	25. Y	yearbook
08. H	haven	17. Q	quagmire	26. Z	zigzag
09. I	icon	18. R	rescue

For a_to_z_prompts

Icon post: Vocaloids

unactive — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 20:17:44 GMT

[25] Vocaloid


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