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echo & refrain Now and then. A friend told me that my brand of WoL x Exarch was “mutual longing” and I thought about it and was like, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

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danger Though this week’s is actually an exception in that nothing is…showing, gentle reminder that there’s an archive of a handful of…spicy WoL x G’raha drawings on twitter thanks to what we now call Feral Fridays.  :)

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between the first and last time (touch starved)

ardbertwol…. 😔

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casual Casually takes a break from a date to look at cat videos on the internet and flirt.

…W-wait, G'raha, are you even looking at…?!

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想不起来 - 16

“Emet-Selch,”

“Do not think to beg with me Persephone, it is the only way,”

You bite down hard on your lip, tears stinging at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Not for this, not because of him, even as news of the star falling apart reaches Amarot.

“You are tempered, Emet-Selch, you are but a slave to the will of Zodiark,” Your words are cut off by being pinned to the wall, eyes wide as a red mask glows before you.

“Never, speak of Zodiark that way again.” He growls lowly. His mask shines a stark red before you, your eyes wide as fear slowly starts to sink in, too shocked to fight back. “By His grace he has saved this star once, and he can–no will do so again.”

Reaching up, your clutch the hands that are keeping you pinned, hearing the desperation in his voice. “Hades,” you whimper, struggling in his hold. “You do not see what he is doing to our home! To you! To us…” the tears finally fall, running down your cheeks as those golden eyes you came to love so much now glare at you so fiercely. “Hades please, there must be another way,”

“I already told you there is not!” He all but roars, the room shaking with the force of his power. “I do this for us, to save our home,” Taking your face in his hands, he bids you to look at him, nearing his face to yours. “Everything I have done, it is to keep you safe. I have already spoken with the other members of the convocation, the plan is set. There is no turning back. You must simply go,”

Finally summoning your strength, you throw him off of you, making sure to put distance between you two. “I will find another way.” Your voice is strained, tinted with betrayal as you look at your lover, his mask fading away. “He will not be happy until the world is consumed entirely! I will find another way!” You cry, doing your best to ignore the pained look Emet-Selch gives you as you turn away from him.

“Persephone!” He shouts, clamoring to his feet to reach you.

You don’t look back, whisking yourself away.

Could you really be surprised?

You had heard once, when you were younger, that those closest to you would always hurt you the most.

That proverb floats in your head as you kneel upon the ground, the crackling of the light aether within you making your arms shake in the effort to stay upright. Tears fall from your eyes as you meet the cool, smug gaze of Emet-Selch, the Exarch having been whisked away to Hydaelyn knows where.

“E-Emet-Selch…” you cough, white bile spilling from your mouth as your body convulses in pain.

“Now, now, don’t look at me so hurt, hero.” His voice is distant, condescending. “I had bid you to do your job, to slay every lightwarden and contain the light. You have failed, which I will allow you to blame on your current form…” He sounds disappointed, though his lips remain in that infuriating smirk. “Worry not. As always, I have a backup plan.”

“I don’t,” you pause as you retch, strength slowly slipping away, “think I like the sound of that.” Your vision is blinding at the edges, the cries of the Scions falling on deaf ears as you focus solely on the man…no…monster, before you. “You are still too eager to sacrifice so much for your goals…” you spit out, baring your teeth at him. Muted anger twists at his face, meaning you must’ve hit the mark. “You are hiding something from me.” You don’t mean to sound as desperate as you do, but your voice wavers as your arms finally give out on you, your body crumpling into a heap on the ground.

“Cease your whining.” He tuts, crossing his arms as he looks down on you. His footfalls seem loud as he approaches, the cries of your friends increasing as he kneels beside you, a gloved hand tilting your chin to make you look at him. You gasp as you see an almost pleading note to his gaze. “Do not fight it.” He whispers harshly, searching your eyes for something. “Do not fight me once again Persephone.” He whispers so softly, his aether reaching out to brush against your own. It is almost soothing as it makes contact, the pain of the light within dimming slightly. “I can…we can end this. Leave these miserable shades behind. Come with me.” he begs.

You look at him conflicted, your heart feeling pulled from both ends. The Scions desperate cries tear at your heart as much as his lonely, desperate eyes do, and you’re sure he can sense your turmoil. “There must…be another way…” you whimper, crying out as he grips your chin tightly.

“You are too much like yourself.” He growls, releasing your face. “If you are as convinced as ever to stay true to your path…” The resentment that brushes against you is almost crushing, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. “Then you will meet me in my domain…it is where I will take your precious Exarch as I try to dissect his abilities.” He stands once again, shoulders slumped as before.

“I do not have to give you directions how to get there, I trust.” Are his parting words.

He whisks himself away.

He doesn’t look back.

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matched It begins a long time ago in a moment just like this.

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[ Warning : Genderbend content! ] ♀Emet x ♀Wol 

because I’m-trash for lady Emet too(⊙///ω///⊙)

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hide Don’t hide from me..!

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PLEASE SPREAD!

After the demonstration on 21st July, there were a bunch of men in white, believe to be gangsters, walking around in Yuen Long and beating up everyone whom they believe to had joined the rally earlier today. They had weapons and even enter the platform of the railway to attack people.

People called emergency hotline, the response is ‘Don’t go out if you’re scared.’ Then they were hanged up. Yuen Long Police Station was shut down, clips showing that patrolling police ignored the gangsters’ attacking citizens.

The police had been complained before for use of excessive force, many believe they are ignoring the gangsters on purpose.

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*is promptly yeeted out to sea by Lord Vauthry himself*

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Who else KUPOed here?

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WHY IS HIS DISSIDIA MODEL SO FREAKING GOOD

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I am half Scottish and half Japanese- I hand-sewed this kimono from men’s dress shirts and boxer shorts.

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untitled End of weekend doodle. @kobakoba gave me the prompt of a WoL x Exarch date, and I thought maybe an quiet afternoon in the Cabinet of Curiosities could be a little adventure also.

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for the WoL/Exarch asks, either 5 or 22-- your pick!

💖💖 thanks for giving me a prompt anon-chan, I went with 22, because I love the idea of losing control 🙏 as an aside, I know these are all very short, but would people be interested in seeing them on Ao3, under a collection? 😊

Impulse

It is sheer impulse that drives you to kiss him. There is a smudge of ink intersecting the crystal markings on his face and when he misses it for the second time your directions turn into lips against his skin, your breath coalescing on the brilliance of his cheek.

“What-” G’raha starts, but then you tilt his face with your nose and kiss him again and he falls quiet. There is barely a touch of your lips against his before you pull back, startled. 

“I’m sorry-” you choke out, appalled, but this time it is your words silenced as a crystal and a spoken hand come to pull your face back to his. You respond desperately, ardently, the hot-and-cold touch of him against your neck fanning the flames of madness you’ve sunk into until you are leaning full against him, your heartbeat playing a rhythm answered in the thrum of the Tower. 

It feels… it feels like impulse turned inevitable. It feels like something you might have done before, a long time ago, and the sensation only heightens when G’raha’s lips trace a crimson path down your neck to taste the way your pulse leaps.

There is heat in the touch of a man who has loved you for a hundred years. You think it might have driven you to this, to the dazed way you watch as the Exarch pulls back to take in your flushed face and wide pupils. 

“How I have wanted…” he murmurs, and you think yes, how I have wanted, too, but you can’t form the words because your voice is once again swallowed up in his kiss. It’s a kiss that has nothing of patience to it: you have blown yours, impulsively, and thrown wide the gates of your friend’s own restraint. 

You only hope you are able to control the passion that is firing through your veins. That is leading you both to the wall of the Ocular, your shoulders tense against smooth crystal as G’raha presses you into the unyielding foundation of his power. He is close enough that there’s little space for air between you and you think if he kisses you again you’ll swear off it forever. 

He does. And you revel in it, urge driving you to sink sharp teeth into his bottom lip as he moans into your mouth in a way that goes straight to your belly. Impulse, impulse you tell yourself as you watch him sink to his knees in front of you, hands gripping hips so tight they’ll leave bruises. Something you can both explain away, you reason, hope, as G’raha presses kisses to the insides of your thighs. 

Leaves bite marks where nobody but you will see. Stakes his claim on you with lips and teeth and tongue until you slide down the wall and come apart in his arms. It is impulse that started this, you know, but it is desire that carries it forward, that gives the Exarch strength to pick you up and pin you back against the wall while he moves inside of you. You trace the ink still marking his cheek with your tongue and know, all at once, that impulse will drive you to this, to him again. 

Just as you know you will welcome it.

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rise  Do you think he wakes up sometimes and thinks he’s still caught in those lonely years without you, because that’s all he’s known for so long…?

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this bitch bout to get a face full of teflon