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darckcarnival · 1 year

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Unusual Muse Associations!

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~SPICE: Allspice berries + Mahlab Spice Complex sweetness makes allspice berries versatile, in both sweet and savory dishes- add ground allspice to Jamaican jerk rubs and stews, to spice cakes, cookies, and grilled fruits. Sweet, Savory. + These pits add an ultra-luxurious almond, nutty, and vanilla flavor with a slightly bitter after taste. Mahlab spice works with baked goods like pastries, bread, rice pudding, honey, and cheese desserts and is frequently found throughout Greece, Turkey, and Egypt. Both of these fit her style of cooking and personality.

~WEATHER: Clear skies after a rain + Sunny days in winter or Autumn The fresh dew on the ground, how the skies clear up after a storm has hit the land. The calming and clean after math of whatever comes, and is ready to be nurtured, or to be rescued from what remains. She comes in the storm, and will do her best to clean up the after math, won't shy away. With the snow, she was born in winter, loves it so, but the sunlight while the exact opposite of her nature as a creature, always looks so beautiful when bringing in that new day in the quiet season. Of course, autumn has always seemed fitting as well. The warmth of life wilting into hibernation, and Halloween.

~PRIMARY COLOUR: Shades of Purple This goes without saying, as purple has always been her sunglasses, and the vibrant pop against the rest of her lower tones. Purple can bring great fortune and luck, as well as an ominous warning when in its darker shades. A double meaning in it's tints, and depends on whom perceives such color. But for Darck she just has always loved it so. Purple is a lot of things. It’s mysterious. It’s magical. It can be playful, but it can also be reverent.

~COLOUR OF THE SKY: Sunsets, and Sunrise The way pastels of oranges and reds, fade into purples and blues, following the sun setting, offering the last rays of warmth before the calm night washes over the land. Bringing with it both rest and warning. Gorgeous colors that Darck loves to watch. But when the night sky erupts, showing the stars in the inky shades above, is much like tiny lights, or flecks of lost paints, that bring out the most of what she is and a gift unto the world. That it is still turning, still a new day will rise in the morn when Sunrise comes, to bring the vibrant colors once more into being.

~MAGICAL POWER: Shadow Step The power to manipulate shadows and darkness came at a cost, one that left lasting scars mentally and emotionally with everything that followed. But now, she relies on this deeply, moving about at impossible speed, ignoring blockades most of the time. And capable of using shadow as a weapon once solidified. Or as an extra limb, on the rare occasion, yet requires great focus.

~SHOE: High tops + Combat Boots Originally, Darck once wore black and white high top converse when relaxing and not out working, when younger. But when out in the world and needing to be ready for anything, Combat Boots with steel toe are the average shoe, always.

~HOUSEPLANT: Succulent + Lavender Succulents mean loyalty and endurance, timeless, love endless either friendship or romantic. Trustworthy and unshaken no matter the drought, a type of cactus but smaller. Lavender flowers represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness. As well as the purple hue bringing an air of elegance to it. But can also use this plant for medicine and tea, to both heal you and welcome you.

~BLADE WEAPON: Dagger Darck always has an old Romanian dagger on her person as a blade of choice. It's longer than a combat knife, but just as swift and deadly, this object meant to never be broken. The one weapon she can always fall back on should it stay in her hand, and tied with her family ancestry.

~SCHOOL SUBJECT: Science, History, P.E. As much as she is a woman good with words and understanding other quickly, one might think English. But no, she has always loved different science classes! So very many and she paid close attention as well when a kid. Combine that with her excitement into all sorts of history, the two subjects always go hand in hand. And both have followed Darck into her adult hood and has even helped work in her favor on missions or knowing situations. Of course, P.E. goes without saying, she was always incredibly active and physically interested in things. Since being changed into half vampire, this fact became key.

~SOCIAL MEDIA: ?????? She'd not have a lot of anything. Maybe an untagged youtube account, without any connection to her real name, and a couple email accounts. But things like twitter? Nah, she uses ghost accounts to keep an eye on things, but otherwise she doesn't exist. A ghost in the machine.

~MAKEUP PRODUCT: Foundation and Concealer While she does not wear make up in general, almost never unless special occasion calls for the need- then these two products she will use more commonly if needed. Because it can cover up the darker circles under her eyes when it's demanded, or can hide the odd scars around her skin and neck. Making less questions when needing to hide them.

~CANDY: Elderberry Jam While it technically does not count as candy, in this case for how she eats it, it does. Darck loves Elderberry items in general, loves all of them, but jam specifically she will put a spoon in and eat straight. It's... A comfort food, and a reminder of better days. Hold over from humanity and younger years.

~ICE CUBE SHAPE: Crushed Easier to mix with, and smaller bits to put into things. As well as an easy way to work out frustration, by crushing ice in her hand, or biting down and crunching it, and letting it melt, the cold temp cooling her off. Helps a lot when needing to work in hotter climates.

~ART STYLE: Sketched Lines, Carvings Sketches of people and places to compare things, and keep close always, if photos fail. As well as making carvings and smaller gifts or engravings, just to give others.

~MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Gryphon + Dragon Grphons, with the body of a lion, the wings and head of and eagle; representing the kings of both animals and the birds. They may also bear the ears of a horse. Known for guarding, protection, and loyalty, griffins are protectors from evil, slander, and witchcraft as well. Some symbolism depicts both the divine and the human. In heraldry, griffin stands for courage, leadership and strength. Pictured as fierce, they have gained respect over ages too. A Dragon can mean both good and bad in equal measure, with a similar spirit animal and spirit guide being found in the fierce and protective Lion. Dragon's often times are depicted as destructive, territorial, cunning, and dangerous by it's enemies. Capable of bringing about great pain and sorrow. But for an ally, the Dragon can be protective, representing hoards of what it holds dear, and a deep wisdom for survival and an apex predator. A valiant protector and violent towards its enemies.

~PIECE OF STATIONARY: Writing paper, Letters Papyrus, printer paper, freshly written letters to be sent, typewriters and ink ribbons- anything for writing. As that has been Darck's go to of her open original communication with friends and loved ones when trapped, or too scared and shy to show herself in some instances. A safety net, to still communicate. And even to this day when able to be in person, still with this method come into play, often leaving notes and letters for others.

~THREE EMOJIS: 🦇🕶☕️

~CELESTIAL BODY: Moon + Pluto Moon: emotion The moon is also not a planet by scientific measures—but in astrology, it functions similarly as an influential celestial body. In this case, it reflects our emotions, senses, instincts, intuition, and unconscious selves, says Lang. Pluto: rebirth While it may not be scientifically classified as a planet anymore, Pluto plays a similar role within the astrology space—in this case ruling over regenerative forces in the body, death, and rebirth, says Lang: “It relates to the deep psychological aspect of ourselves and the unconscious.”

Tagged by: @megalomanist

Tagging: You! Steal it from me and tag me.

#Out Of Coffins :: OOC #Awareness Of The Darkness :: Darck Headcanons #Time to Join The Party :: Dashboard Games and Quizzes #(( this was actually REALLY HARD to do ))#(( And I had to be really obvious on a couple of these like magic ))#(( but wow this was really deep and hard to think ))#(( not too happy with some of these but might think of better ones later ))#(( Hope you enjoy the results of this~! ))#(( maybe not too happy BUT STILL PROUD OF HOW FITTING IT IS ))#(( the research that went into this ))#(( The clashing existence of half human and half vampire ))#(( the half and halves of two choices ))

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florencemtrash · 5 months

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In a year's time - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealous Azriel, fluff

Masterlist of Masterlists

"But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him."

Mor narrowed her eyes at the Shadowsinger, watching as he adjusted the collar of his newly tailored suit jacket and then combined his hair back with scarred fingers.

Azriel had always been annoyingly beautiful - even during their middling years when their voices cracked and they hadn’t yet grown into their long, slender limbs - and so he’d never needed to take special care of his appearance. His hair dried in perfect waves, his skin was smooth and clean despite the scars, and his training had carved out a silhouette as strong and capable as it was alluring. So why did he keep smoothing down his waistcoat like he was nervous?

Mor darted out a tongue, cleaning up the drop of wine that threatened to fall from her ruby red lips, “Azriel? What in the Mother’s name are you doing?”

His eyes barely flicked over to where she lay sprawled out on his bed. She had no intention of attending this ball sober, and if the near empty bottle of wine balanced precariously against her knee was any indication, she would exceed her goal before they even stepped outside his bedroom.

He picked up the tie - midnight blue and hand-embroidered with silver thread - and flung it around his neck.

“Getting ready for the ball.” He answered blandly.

She rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” then continued to stare at him expectantly as he finished knotting the tie, folded his pocket square, and then slid his weapons into place as a last measure, cobalt blue siphons flashing from the backs of his hands.

It clicked all at once as he strolled for the door, forcing Mor to abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

“Oh my gods.” She said, mouth agape. Her shoes clicked along the marble floors of the River House like the beating of drums.

Azriel groaned internally. Even tipsy and wearing seven-inch heels, Mor kept up with his long strides easily, prodding his side accusingly with her wine bottle. It magically refilled itself with every jab.

“You’re trying to impress Y/n!”

Suddenly it was as obvious as the sun rising in the east. He’d chosen the tie you complimented him on last Starfall, despite his hatred of its fanciful nature. He was wearing the silver moonstone cufflinks you’d bought him for his birthday. He’d even combed his hair because he knew you’d notice and muss it up for him.

“Mor-” He warned, color beginning to dust his cheeks. His shadows darted around the hallway, climbing the velvet curtains and peering around the corners to watch for any potential eavesdropping.

“I knew it! I knew it!” She said, swatting him with a frustrated hand. Her red silk dress clung to her waist and thighs before fluttering out in a halo around her knees as she chased after him, aiming to slap him across the head.

Azriel stopped in his tracks and grabbed at her wrists, desperately hoping no one else in the house had left their rooms yet. If he was really lucky, the two mated couples would be making enough noise of their own to drown out Mor’s excitement.

“Mor, stop it. And be quiet.”

“You loooove her.” She crowed, dragging out the sound. Suddenly she straightened up, hands on her hips and frowning, “Is that why you’ve been so irritable lately? Because you miss her?”

Azriel said nothing, gave away nothing, even though Mor had hit the nail on the head in her drunken stupor.

It had been a great honor when Thesan offered to take you under his wing and train you personally. More than a favor to Rhysand, he’d seen your healing talent and wanted your expertise to be well represented in the Dawn Court. So a year ago you’d packed up your things and said your goodbyes.

“It’s only temporary.” You’d promised him, “I’ll be back before you know it. In a year’s time.”

But a lot could change in a year. You’d sent plenty of letters back and forth to each other, and Azriel would be loath to admit that he slept with them clutched against his chest every night so whispers of your scent would chase the nightmares away.

But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him.

He was happy for you and had been the one to encourage you to move to Dawn. But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you terribly. You’d been missing from his side like a torn limb, and Azriel had been walking through life at a crooked angle ever since.

“I don’t-” He sighed, he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love you. He just couldn’t, “It’s none of your business, Mor.” He amended.

He released her wrists breezed past her, but she sprinted ahead of him, splaying her limbs out on the staircase to block his path.

“You need to tell her you love her. Tonight.” She commanded. Her words slurred out gently, the faerie wine finally kicking in when she’d wanted it to. “I mean it, Az.”

He shook his head, “I can’t tell her tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t seen her in a year! I can’t drop that kind of truth on her.”

“Yes you can!” She fought back. There was some muddled piece of information hanging at the edges of her mind, something important she needed to tell Az. But the wine held it back. Fuck. She cursed inwardly.

“No. I. Can’t.”

“Yes. You. Can.” She was practically seething, pearly brown eyes unfocused but unrelenting. She knows something I don’t, Azriel realized in a burst of shock.

“What is it, Mor? What did she tell you?”

She blinked, dropping her arms from the burnt umber railings. His heart quickened. Had his worst fears come true? Had you found someone else in Dawn worth staying for?

“I-” Damn it. She shouldn’t have finished the second bottle. She cradled it protectively against her chest, feeling the glass cool her hot skin, “I don’t fucking remember.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

“I mean, I’m drunk, Az. And drunk Mor doesn’t remember shit.”

His heart quickened further, a crushing sense of guilt and loss wrapping around his chest like a corset and tightening. Mor at least was saved from further useless interrogation when Rhysand and Feyre bounded out from down the hallway, tastefully disheveled and looking sinful in Night Court black.

Rhysand cleared his throat, straightening his dinner jacket and absent-mindedly straightening Feyre’s crown for her, “Everyone ready to leave?” His eyes glazed over, calling out to the last missing members of their party.

Cassian and Nesta spilled out of their room next, the braids of her coronet slipping out and spilling over her heaving chest. Azriel tipped his head to the ceiling and cursed silently. Mother have mercy…

Nesta pulled up on the strap of her lace dress, only to find that it had been torn to ribbons.

Cassian was in no better shape - the collar of his white shirt was smeared with lipstick, although he didn’t have the same sense as Nesta to look annoyed at the interruption to their… activities. A toothy grin bloomed on his face, shoulder-length hair tangled like someone had been yanking it for hours.

“Can’t make it tonight, Rhys.” He said. He glanced down at Nes, “I’m not feeling well.”

“Me neither.” Nesta said hastily, slipping back behind the door and hauling Cassian inside with her like he weighed as light as a feather. Four months after their mating ceremony and they were as insatiable as ever.

“You’re full of shit, Cass!” Rhys called out just before the door slammed shut. A muffled Fuck you! Came from within, followed by a, Tell Y/n we’ll see her at home! From Nesta.

They winnowed to the outskirts of Daybreak Hill, landing in a field of cushiony moss dotted with pink and violet heather that stirred in the breeze like the dusk-painted clouds above.

Feyre sighed deeply, breathing in the scent of lavender and rosewater. She loved Velaris and no one could hold a candle to the beauty of the Night Court… except perhaps Dawn.

It was like someone had laid a mirror flat on the earth. Periwinkle skies kissed rolling sage green hills dotted with red-roofed villages and sank into lakes of pearl and lavender until it was impossible to tell where the sky started or ended.

The Dawn Court Palace’s twisting spires of honey marble glowed brighter than the setting sun. So brightly in fact that Mor had to help shield Azriel’s eyes with her soft hands as he carried them up through low-hanging satin clouds. Dots of scarlet and midnight black soaring through cotton skies.

His hands turned clammy and the tightness in his chest felt like a giant’s fist squeezing his heart, but he convinced himself it was the thin air that was responsible, and not the raging longing in his heart for you. Still, he had to appreciate the beauty of the red-roofed villages below, tinkering hands hard at work inside chestnut workshops filled with glistening bronze and copper.

They dove through the columns into the open-air hall, any dampness from the mist magicked away by Thesan’s careful hands as he stepped down from the golden dias to greet his honored guests. His rich, copper-colored skin radiated light, melting with the darkness that rippled off Rhysand and Feyre’s shoulders as they shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries.

Mor stretched her silky arms above her hands, catching the eyes of a cherub-faced female reaching to grab a flute from the champagne tower. Normally, Mor would have been flattered, but with Emerie at home and a wine-drunk haze over her mind, she was feeling more anxious than anything else. What the fuck was it that she was trying to remember?

Faelights bloomed above him, tinkered in the shapes of roses that gently pulsed, fluttering petals propelling them across the room in a sway of light.

But Azriel was barely paying attention. His eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for a silhouette he knew as intimately as the ridges of his hands.

There.

You stood across the room, half-hidden in the stone archway beside Thesan’s lover, Herades. You bowed your head towards him in silent conversation, nursing a glass of champagne in your hand to try and cool your nerves. Azriel would be arriving soon, if he wasn’t already here, cradling the walls in search of dark corners like he was bound to do. You’d been imagining all the ways you’d greet him - with a joke, with a meaningful embrace, with a kiss. You shook her head, pushing the last thought out of your mind and focusing on Herades’s story again.

Your laugh was a flare of light blooming at the end of a match. Azriel stared utterly captivated. Time moved slower than syrup when you finally met his eyes and smiled with an affection more precious than gold.

“Az!” You squeezed Herades’s arm, politely excusing yourself, and then you were off. You sprang across the room in a billow of cream fabric, like milk poured into coffee. The tips of your pleated skirts were touched with blue like you’d waded out into the night sky. The color matched the ribbon in your hair, and the siphons of a certain lovestruck Shadowsinger.

“Y/n,” He breathed out. You flowed into his arms and he gathered you into them like a bouquet of wildflowers, breathing in your familiar scent of rosemary and peppermint. Gods I missed you. He whispered in his mind, hoping that somehow you’d hear it at the end of that glowing thread.

But the hug was short-lived. Too short-lived.

“Mor!” You sang in that melodic voice he loved so much, grasping for her next, then Rhys, then Feyre.

Thesan looked on humbly, sighing faintly when Herades caught up to you and immediately slid to Thesan’s side.

“Oh I’ve missed you all so much.” You said, rocking back and forth.

“We missed you,” Feyre said into your hair. She was the one to pull away, smoothing out ribbon and giving you a once-over look.

Your time had been well-spent at the Dawn Court. Extra color bronzed your cheeks and tinted your lips a pale berry shade. You stood up straighter, smiled a little wider, and walked with an extra height to your step. You’d always been beautiful and graceful, but it was like you were aware of it now - like you’d grown the last few inches into your body.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” Feyre said and Mor agreed enthusiastically, commenting on your dress and your hair and your… well everything.

“Thank you,” You said, blushing, “Thesan’s treated me very well.”

That was an understatement. He’d set you up in his personal household, paid you handsomely (even more than Rhysand paid you if that were possible), and had had the royal seamstress sew ten dresses for you to pick from for tonight’s ball alone. It was your party after all in commemoration of the advancements you’d made in child birthing practices. You’d handled twelve pregnancies alone in the past year across Dawn and Winter, all of the children delivered safely and as plump and rosy as summer cherries.

“And you’ve repaid it to my court ten-fold.” Thesan said and held up his drink. Even Herades smiled, tawny feathers flaring out with pride. You were responsible for the safety of his sister-in-law and the birth of his nephew - hawk wings and all.

It was a flurry of activity following the Night Court’s fashionably late arrival. You dragged Azriel and Mor up to the dais after Rhys and Feyre. Traditionally the table was only meant for High Lords and their partners, but Thesan was a unique and progressive leader in more ways than one.

Herades and Thesan sat in the middle with Feyre and Rhysand, leaving you, Azriel, and Mor at one end and Thesan’s sister and her husband at the other.

Azriel was eternally grateful when Mor lunged for the center-most seat, forcing you to sit between her and Azriel. You bumped knees with him, leaning close as you whispered about the Court gossip you’d managed to overhear from the cooks or discussing the progress you’d made in the Winter Court.

Course after course appeared in front of him and disappeared, hardly touched. He wasn’t hungry for anything other than you, focusing on the crease within your brows as you tried to remember all the news you couldn’t write to him about or the twist of your perfect, flushed lips as you displayed your displeasure and your joy.

If he believed himself to be worthy of your affection he would have whisked you away hours ago, disappearing into whichever room in the palace was yours and pressing you against the wall, lip-locked until the need for air forced him to stop.

“How are Kallias and Viviane doing?” Mor asked, perking up at the mention of the Winter Court.

You smiled, your cheeks flushing with color, “I’m not supposed to say, Mor, so you must promise not to tell anyone. Anyone.” Mor locked her mouth and threw away the key. Your lips brushed against the sharp curve of her ear, “She’s pregnant.”

Mor clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly upsetting the glass of wine balanced precariously on the edge of the table. One of Azriel’s shadows darted out, pushing it safely out of the way of her swaying arms.

“Stop.” She hissed in disbelief. Her golden hair seemed to brighten with her cheeks.

You nodded, “With twins.”

Tears flooded her eyes, “That wench didn’t tell me.”

“She’s been busy, if you can imagine.”

“Still!” Mor muttered under her breath, eating her food slowly and sipping on her wine quickly. She gave up on being sober the more males approached her from the base of the dais, bowing deeply with proud, puffed up chests and asking for a dance. Word had gone around about her… preferences, and far from dissuading suitors, it seemed to have been offered up as a challenge as to who could change her mind. Thank the gods Emerie had declined the invitation to join them. She would have castrated half these males in an instant, if Mor didn’t beat her to it.

Thesan, gratefully, put an end to it once he caught onto the pattern. One sharp look from him sent them scampering back, coattails between their legs.

There was one final male though who ignored the previous warnings, humbly bleeding out of the crowd as remnants of rose cake disappeared from the tables and the quartet swelled to include twelve musicians plus a singer. Full, cream-colored wings hovered above the ground, tawny-tipped and lush. Even Mor had to admit, with his olive skin, amber eyes, and warm honey curls he was stunning. Like liquid gold poured out of the setting sun.

He bowed deeply, a subtle smile on his face. Azriel went rigid, seeing you lean forward out of the corner of his eye with a blush coating your cheeks.

Mor closed her eyes and groaned. Fuuuuuuuck. That’s what she’d forgotten about. Or rather whom she’d forgotten about.

Naemon - the golden boy who’d begun to court you seven months back. You’d dropped his name only a handful of times in your letters to Mor. Not enough times to convince Mor you were actually taken with him, but enough times for her to remember the bastard’s name.

“Y/n,” His voice was silky smooth and kind, “May I have the first dance with you?” He asked politely.

Your breath caught in your throat and you risked a glance over at Azriel. He looked… bored and unaffected. He reached for his glass, looking more interested in the faerie wine than the male who’d just asked for your hand. It was stupid of you to think he would care for you as anything more than a friend, and even more foolish of you to think he might be jealous.

You pushed away from the table and floated down the dais, taking the strong and sturdy hand Naemon offered you. The first song was too spirited and quick to reveal any true feelings. It was a blur of silks and lean arms as you wove through the sea of dancers and were gently tossed from partner to partner. But the second song was slower, more intimate. Naemon flashed a look of gratitude to the singer, who winked in return, before scooping one arm around your waist, hand flat on the small of your back. You rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling the rolling of muscle beneath his crisp linen tunic, and held his free hand.

Naemon was a kind and gentle male. After the death of his parents, he’d all but raised his younger sister Namia on his own, relying on the money he earned in the Peregryn legion to make ends meet. It was his care for his sister that had first drawn him to you - any misgivings he’d had melting away as you grew close to Namia from among the other healers. You’d supported her throughout her pregnancy, become her friend, and served as a balm to his anxieties whenever his duties took him away for long stretches of time.

You looked down bashfully, apologizing for missing one of the dance steps and crushing his toe, “I’m better at the quicksteps.” You explained.

Naemon smiled brilliantly, and you couldn’t stop the faint flutter in your chest, “I can’t blame you. The slow ones can get boring. Leaves too much time for overthinking.”

“Exactly.” Too much time for overthinking about a certain Shadowsinger.

You’d never given Naemon any false pretenses about your feelings, always reminding him and Namia that your position in Dawn was temporary. But still… It felt nice to be courted by someone as open as him. With Naemon you never had to guess whether he wanted you or not - you knew he did. The flowers he often left in the healer’s temple, or the offers to take you out to dinner or to dances like this one proved it.

A curl of guilt coiled in your stomach. Maybe now was a good time to bow out and return to your seat. Surely the slow waltz would be finishing soon. The-

“You’re overthinking again.” Naemon said, his full lips brushing against the sharp curve of your ear and heating the gold cuffs you wore. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Y/n. If you’re enjoying yourself - if you like dancing with me - keep doing it.”

“Naemon-” You began apologetically.

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” He said honestly, “I just want to dance with you tonight. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You stared into his eyes, finding nothing but truth in them. A portion of your nerves melted away and you found that when the cello began to hum out a simple tune, you were still holding onto him and letting him move you through the next movements.

Azriel was barely holding on by a thread. Wine glass now empty and clenched dangerously between shadow covered hands. Rhys shot him a look, and when his attempts to breach his brother’s mental shields were met with resistance, he turned to Mor.

What’s wrong with him? His eyes flashed the question.

He’s being an ass who can’t come to terms with his emotions. Mor grumbled back, sinking into her seat with a fling of yellow-gold waves.

Rhys’s eyes went from confused to wide open as he shot a look to you across the dance floor. Fuck.

Feyre followed her mate’s attention with a look of concern, and then traced Azriel’s steely gaze to the dance floor where you were smiling reservedly up at Naemon. You two made a handsome couple, weaving a clear path through the other dancers as they parted for his magnificent feathered wings.

Azriel stiffened. He’d never been particularly proud of his Illyrian heritage, but his wings… his wings were one of the few true beauties he possessed. But in comparison to the golden-boy warrior that smiled at you and brushed back a loose strand of hair with his soft hands, Azriel found himself lacking… once again.

Naemon was a gentle breeze where Azriel was blistering wind. He was a wide open door, every look he gave you filled with clear affection. Azriel was a dozen locked boxes, each one nestled within the other with all the keys rusted and thrown away. Naemon looked reserved and in control. Azriel felt completely out of it, and it took every inch of willpower to keep the mating bond from driving him mad enough to launch across the dancefloor and bruise Naemon’s high, perfect cheekbones.

But then the dance ended and Naemon parted from you long enough to reach behind his back and pluck a feather from his wing. A few shocked gasps scattered throughout the room. Even Thesan and Herades looked on with raised eyebrows, leaning close enough to touch.

The feather was a beauty - the length of Naemon’s forearm and such a pure white it glimmered like moonlight. You froze, staring down at the treasure he offered you with bated breath.

Peregryns were fiercely protective of their wings and rightfully so. To be allowed near them alone was a great honor. To touch them was an intimate act reserved for family members and lovers. To be offered a feather?! In some circles it was akin to being gifted a thousand roses. In other circles it was tantamount to a marriage proposal.

Both offers were completely overwhelming to you.

“Naemon-” You began carefully, backing away, “I-I can’t.”

He smiled softly, eyes flashing briefly up to the dias where the Shadowsinger had gotten up to his feet, something like desperation and longing buried deep beneath the layers of his hazel eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” Naemon said resignedly, “But please, take this,” He begged, spreading open your fingers before curling them again around the feather, “For everything you’ve done for my family.”

And because I love you, even if you don’t love me back - were the words he didn’t say aloud.

“Naemon-” A shadow fell over your feet, curling around your ankles and skirts and tugging you away like a child seeking attention.

Naemon, for all his relative youth and gentle disposition, didn’t seem surprised or affected by the Shadowsinger’s presence. Azriel hovered close behind you, eyes blown open and desperate.

Please don’t. He silently begged. Please don’t say yes to him.

He almost melted with relief when Naemon only dipped his head in acknowledgement and kissed the palm of your hands. Even that innocent touch made Azriel’s stomach turn.

You turned when Naemon finally disappeared into the crowd. “Azriel, I-”

You had half a mind to hide the feather behind your back, but you couldn’t do such a cruel thing to Naemon. And it wasn’t like Azriel hadn’t watched the whole thing unfold in front of him. You clasped the feather in your hands, careful not to ruffle the delicate barbs.

Azriel was no longer bored and unaffected. In fact he seemed unnaturally flustered and nervous.

He swallowed thickly, mindful of the curious stares you were attracting. Not only had you just been proposed to, but now you were being approached by a male from your past after an ambiguous response - you’d accepted the feather, but Naemon had left alone. The court gossips would have a field day, if they weren’t already.

“Y/n,” He said, his voice thin and quiet. A mere whisper among the riff raff that was steadily building up again in a crescendo, “Can we please talk?” His wings fluttered nervously, and he shot a dangerous look at a male who came too close to you, “In private? Please?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d barely recovered from Naemon’s dramatic display and you were scared about what Azriel might offer next.

Still you mumbled, “Oh-um… yes.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Azriel’s hand was on your wrist, delicately leading you through the crowd towards the archway and into the hallway beyond. Fae mingled about in their finery, happy to escape the music and the sweep of dancers.

Azriel scowled. This was hardly any more private.

“My quarters are further down this hall,” You offered, pointing down a sky bridge that connected the public wings of the palace to the private ones. Azriel exhaled in relief, nodding and following you as you cut through unfamiliar halls draped in rich reds, golds, and turquoises.

You stopped at a door of solid oak, hand painted to look like it had been lifted from the pages of a storybook. Resplendent gold filigree traced the footsteps of maidens running along hills dense with colorful flora. Water trickled down from the mountain tops, so realistic that Azriel was amazed to find the handwoven carpets in your room were dry.

You peered down the hall before closing the door with a gentle whisper. Only the songbirds nesting in the high crevices bore witness to your activities.

You hesitated and then tucked the feather into one of the empty jewelry boxes on the vanity. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Azriel stood motionless by the door, watching as you closed the box and slid it back against the mirror.

“Did you say yes?” He whispered, hating the way his voice caught in his throat, “Do you love him?”

You turned around quickly, the length of ribbon in your hair rippling through the air to land on your collarbone. Azriel was upon you in an instant close enough for you to feel his shallow breathing, but all he did was trace the blue ribbon with his fingers and then push it back over your shoulder.

“I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered and your face burned with feeling. Azriel had asked you for privacy so he could ask you about Naemon?

Azriel clenched his fists once. Twice. “The male you were dancing with. The feather-”

You blushed deeply, turning your face away to hide your embarrassment. You had hoped he didn’t know about that Peregryn custom.

He gently gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling your gaze back to him. You blinked in surprise. For once Azriel looked… scared.

“Did you say yes to him? Please. Tell me.”

If you had said yes he might just shrivel up into nothing on the spot. Why had he waited so long to tell you his feelings? Why had he waited so long to tell you about the bond? But if he did it now it would just be terrible timing all around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You shook your head and Azriel’s wings dropped in relief, eyes closing as he murmured a quiet thanks to the Mother beneath his breath.

“He-it wasn’t even a real proposal. He gave it to me as thanks for helping his sister. That’s all.”

He gave you a pointed look like he knew you were lying. There was no questioning Naemon’s feelings for you. No questioning at all.

“You never answered my second question.”

You crumpled under his gaze. Gods, he looked beautiful tonight. Torturously so. It wasn’t fair. Naemon had loved you openly, never given you cause to doubt his intentions nor made you feel guilty for not returning his feelings. And yet here you were, still pining after the male who’d never seen you as more than a friend. A male whose intentions were never clear. A male who always made you question how well you knew him, and whether those small touches and reserved smiles and affectionate letters were just a polite kindness or something more.

“No.” It felt wrong of you to admit it so callously, even if it was the truth, “No I don’t love him.”

Azriel looked ready to kiss the ground and something about that set a fire within you. Leave it to Azriel to ignore any romantic advances from you, to chase after other females left and right for literal centuries, and then get upset the moment another male found you appealing.

You huffed, pushing him away harshly and crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s none of your business anyhow. I’m allowed to have my lovers and my almost lovers. And if you truly thought Naemon was proposing to me, I don’t know why you’d want to fucking interrupt it!”

Azriel flinched at the coldness in your voice, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Az?” You exclaimed, clearly irritated now, “Gods, you never just say what you mean.”

Azriel tried again, grasping at straws. “I would never judge you for your choices, even if you said yes to him or-I just-fuck.”

On any other day you’d be laughing. Azriel was a male of few words, but the words he did say were always perfect and calculated. Nothing about this was calculated or thought out.

“I… you’re my best friend, Y/n. And I haven’t seen you in over a year. I just…” He cringed. Hard. Cauldron boil him. He was doing this terribly, “I was scared.” He finally admitted, and rather pathetically.

“Scared?” You dropped your arms. That wasn’t the answer you’d been expecting, “Scared of what? You’re hardly ever afraid of anything.”

He shrank away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, “That you’d leave me-us. That you’d find a reason to stay here instead of returning to Velaris. And when I saw you dancing with him tonight - the way he was looking at you and the way you were looking at him - I thought… I thought Naemon would be that reason.”

Now you were confused and even more irate than before.

You stalked up to him, jabbing his chest with an accusatory finger, “You were the one who encouraged me to do this. You were the one constantly writing to me about the importance of making friends and “putting myself out there.” You were the one who practically shoved me out the door when I left-”

“Because I thought you wanted this!”

“I did! I-I do!”

“Then what was I supposed to do, Y/n?!” He cried out. His shadows, which had been held back so tightly on a leash throughout the night, exploded outward, coating the bright colors of your bedspread and the rugs and the curtains in inky black. They swirled there, as agitated and timid as their master.

“What was I supposed to do?” He whispered again. He sounded tired. Defeated. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold you back from what you wanted. From the happiness and opportunities you deserve.”

“You could’ve at least said something! You could’ve at least told me that you were upset with me leaving. That you were going to miss me and that you-you-”

That you love me and that you wanted me to stay. You shoved the thought out of your mind, slamming the door and turning the lock. Useless, lovestruck pipedreams would do you no good now.

“Instead you just pushed me out the door and it’s been nothing but empty letters from you since.”

“They weren’t empty.” Azriel said weakly. He’d never been a man of words or poetry, but in that moment he desperately wished he was. “And I did miss you. Y/n, I missed you so much some days it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

You deflated, your anger slowly ebbing away like the ocean during low tide. Sometimes you forgot that beneath all those hard-won layers of shadow and muscle, Azriel was still that little boy that had been abandoned in a cellar and taught to believe he was worthless. A waste of time and a waste of space. Nothing more than an inconvenient bastard.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were all doing fine. That I’d come back and it would be like nothing had ever changed. I would’ve-I would’ve made time to visit. Or-or come back sooner.”

Azriel chuckled without humour. He had not been “doing fine” without you. He hadn’t been “doing fine” since the moment you’d stepped across the doorway and winnowed out of Velaris.

“You make it sound like I was going away forever.” You added softly.

“It felt like it.” Azriel admitted quietly, “I always worried there was a chance you’d decide you liked things better in Dawn. That you liked the people better. So when I saw you with Naemon I just…” His voice trailed off and he slowly backed up to your bed, sinking down into the pillowy comforter. Even the beds seemed softer and kinder here. Softer and kinder than him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, your knee pressing against his in a burst of warmth. The blue tipped pleats of your dress slowly waved with his shadows as they once again curled around your feet, inching up your dress and closer and closer to your hands. Now that he was looking down he noticed the shoes you were wearing - cobalt blue with matching velvet ribbons tied up your calf. Same as your dress. Same as the ribbon in your hair.

“I wanted to believe you wore those colors for me tonight.” He said quietly, aching for your touch. Your hands were so close to his he could almost imagine that-

You covered his hands with your own, smoothing the rough skin with gentle caresses, “I did.”

It had seemed like such a stupidly hopeful choice at the time - some not-so-subtle declaration of love for all the months you’d spent apart - but when the seamstress had laid out all the dresses, you’d taken one look at the cobalt blue accents and the shoes and snatched them up in a heartbeat.

Azriel’s eyes were wider, more open, than the moon, shimmering with disbelief and hope, “You did?” He whispered.

“I did. They reminded me of you.” You stopped looking him in the eyes. It felt like too much. Too much emotion. Too much feeling. “I missed you too, you know.”

Azriel stayed quiet for a long while, sorting out the myriad of feelings roiling in his chest and trying to latch onto a single coherent thought. Finally he murmured, “I guess we could both work on saying things outright.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and wiping at the corners of your eyes, “Yes. I guess we could.”

“We could start now.” Azriel offered hesitantly. His heart hammered away in his chest like a blacksmith at his anvil until he was sure his sternum would crack.

You raised your eyebrows. Curious.

“The next five minutes. We say everything honestly. No holding back.”

“I don’t know, Az. I-”

“Please.” He begged, holding onto your hands a little tighter. His shadows had traveled all the way up to your waist now, ghosting over flesh that he didn’t dare touch. He didn’t want to lose you. He’d thought he could handle being apart from you physically - that it would be no different from the decades he’d spent quietly loving you from right by your side - but he’d been horribly wrong. And he didn’t want to risk another, better male than Naemon coming to whisk you away before he had the chance to do things properly. To do things honestly.

His hands were shaking now, gripping your hands like you were the anchor to his ship trapped in raging waters, “I’ll start.”

“Ok.” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

Azriel swallowed and tried to stop the trembling in his hands and in his voice. In this he managed quite well, falling into a rigid, flat silence.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years now, actually.” He dared to look at you. Your lips were parted in shock and he wished he could taste them, “Is that…is that ok?”

“Is that ok?” You repeated dumbly. “Is that ok?” You repeated a little louder, “Are you serious, Azriel?”

“Y-Yes?” He was trembling again, face open and terrified. He was offering you up his heart on a platter and praying to the Mother you wouldn’t crush it beneath those velvet blue shoes. Even if you did, he would find some solace in knowing you were the one to destroy him. He loved you so dearly that it was only within your right to do so.

Your lips broke in a stuttered smile, opening and closing like you didn’t quite know what to do. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. I’d hoped you might feel that way but I… I was never sure. I…” You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the curve of his jaw and his cheekbones with your fingertips, “I love you too, Azriel. I love you so much.” Your voice cracked, silver gathering in your eyes no matter how fiercely you tried to blink them away, “Gods, Az, you don’t even know.”

He gripped you close enough enough to bruise, arms locked around your waist and hands laid flat on your back. It was a sweet pain that grew even sweeter when you kissed him, searching for breath like you’d find it in his lungs. Azriel was just as desperate, ravenous even as he tugged at your clothes and flipped you flat on the bed. He wanted your lips again. You tasted like strawberries and cream, and he was starving.

He climbed on top, slotting himself between your legs as you yanked him close.

“Your hair,” You muttered, “It’s too neat.” The next minute was all teeth from Azriel as you mussed up his hair and he grinned wildly against your lips.

“Five-” He groaned, sinking further into you when you wrapped your legs around his waist, “Five minutes aren’t-” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at your flushed face as you gasped for breath and finally untangled your hands from his hair, “Five minutes aren’t up yet.”

“You’ve been keeping track?” You dropped your head back on the bed with a disgruntled hmph. Had he been counting the whole time he’d been kissing you?

He kissed your chest, then the sensitive skin of your neck. But there wasn’t any expectation in the brush of his lips, just quiet, honest love.

You raised your head, finding that Azriel once again looked scared. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He said seriously. “Before… before anything else.”

You drew yourself onto your elbows, craning your neck for one more kiss, “You can tell me, Az. You can tell me anything.”

The bond sang in his chest like a songbird in a cage. It wanted to be released. To be acknowledged in words if it couldn’t be acknowledged through feeling at this moment. Because Azriel knew you didn’t feel it yet. You didn’t feel the burning he felt in his chest that made it hard to breathe when you weren’t around.

What if she doesn’t want this? What if she doesn’t want me? Azriel swallowed thickly, tears springing into his eyes. He wanted so desperately to be worthy of you - to be the kind and gentle lover and mate that you deserved. He’d been born crooked even before he’d been tossed into that cellar, before his half-brothers had set his hands on fire. But… but he was yours completely. He’d offer whatever meager, broken shards of himself that he could in hopes it might be enough.

“Az,” You whispered his name lovingly and slid a wayward curl behind his ear so gently he thought he might break apart into a million pieces, “Tell me. Please. Tell me.”

“You’re my mate.” He confessed.

The words hung in the air, unaccepted, unrejected, and you went preternaturally still.

He had no feathers to pluck out and present to you. But he had his shadows. You tipped your head curiously to the side when Azriel knelt on the ground, holding your hand in his.

“I don’t have any pure white feathers. I don’t even have a ring on me right now-”

“Az, you don’t need to-” You stilled when a shadow flickered down Azriel’s wrist onto yours. It was a small, delicate thing. Willful too. You could tell by the way it traveled confidently down your ring finger, curling there tastefully like a castle spire reaching towards the sky.

It hovered over your skin like mist hanging over wetlands. A proposal in and of itself.

“Yes.” You said before Azriel could open his mouth again. He hesitated, afraid to believe he’d heard you correctly, “Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” He teased weakly.

But this time you knew exactly what he meant, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

The bond burst to life in your chest as the shadow sank into your skin, settling there like a tattoo. Like a promise.

Azriel stumbled, actually stumbled, clenching at his chest at the wildness growing within him. He chased after you, hurtling down the bond and finding you wide open on the other side. You were anxious and surprised and so so so happy. So happy you felt like you might just die from it, and Azriel felt it all.

Hello, Y/n. He called out.

Hello, Azriel. You responded. My mate.

Azriel groaned, slamming his lips and his body against yours. You held steady as you always did, letting him press against you as if you could keep him there forever.

I am yours and you are mine. You gripped his hair again, feeling the silky strands caress your skin. With one smooth motion he pulled out the ribbon and started to undo the buttons of your dress.

Promise?

You grinned. Promise.

___________

Author's note:

Nothing like a declaration of love after a year spent apart to make my heart swoon.

But honestly I would have fallen in love with Naemon... sorry Az...

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel fic #jealous azriel #fluff #angst #azriel x reader angst #acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar fanfic

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mochinomnoms · 4 months

Note

Idea: Yuu gets caught up in some circumstances involving Floyd and mates with him. Fully expecting rough ✨️fun✨️. Waiting to stop him for hurting them. Never does. Floyd starts with pleasuring his soon-to-be-mate, preparing them, and THEN penetrates. Catches them off guard, but they love it.

Cut to the next morning. Floyd panics 'cause oh shit, goes, "well, I'm not gonna be a bad mate, so I have other things to do!" (Internally), makes Yuu breakfast, is super gentle. They're stunned, because isn't Floyd the rough one? Not with them!

They go to class and get in a fight with Ace (didn't sleep well) who slaps them on the way to lunch and goes to the infirmary with a crushed windpipe. Ace is fine, and Yuu realizes Floyd is very protective. Cue human falling for moray head over heels.

Ta-da! Power couple.

-nightshade anon

Aaa! So cute!! Floyd has always been known to be rough, both above and under the sea. But once someone has taken his interest, especially as a potential mate, there's an obvious change. Not a personality change, he's still as Floyd as ever. But the morning after reveals a much softer side to him.

He's offering you a sweet breakfast, which was confusing as you expected him to kinda…yeet out. He keeps talking about mating, the irony of you being his Shrimpy, and handing a protective arm over you as you ate in bed. It's a surprise, and it continues as you two head off to class later on. He's still handing a protective arm over you, other students giving you two a wide berth to walk through the hallways.

When Floyd sees you off, Jade comes by to walk to class with his brother, he makes an offhanded comment about Floyd being a rather protective mate. It doesn't really click with you until later, when you and Ace are arguing, with him smacking the top of your head.

It was meant to be playful. It was meant to be a gesture between bickering friends.

So Floyd's had coming up behind Ace, grabbing his hand and squeezing until you hear a crunch, was a horrifying surprise. Floyd's confused himself when you're frantically yelling at him for hurting your friend, rushing Ace over to the infirmary as Floyd follows, calling out about how “It's my job to protect my mate! He hit you! That's not allowed!”

Ace, ultimately, is fine. One of the benefits of magical worlds is that things like broken bones are relatively easy to fix. Ace will have to wear a cast for a few days, just to give the magic some time to heal his bones back into place. And he's pissed at Floyd, but also at you for not mentioning that you mated with the stupidly tall merman.

He has to explain, “I heard merfolk are super overprotective with their mates, they'll get into all sorts of fights for them. Man, if I'd known you were with Floyd like that, I'd have never smacked you.”

So you have an eel bodyguard of a boyfriend? You can't deny that the thought makes you a little warm. Floyd, being so soft to you, and only you, while he roughhoused with everyone else. You should run to Floyd to shower him with affections. He's still pretty pouty about you yelling at him.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #nightshade anon

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screamforyani · 1 year

Text

cariño

warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end

a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head

wc. 1.1k

“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you.

you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.

the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you.

maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex.

not that you were complaining.

“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”

“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference.

you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”

you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick.

“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”

miguel spat, “you annoy me.”

“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”

you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”

“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.

you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.

licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.

that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.

“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”

“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.

your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”

“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”

“go faster!”

you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”

“do i have to?”

“do you want to cum?”

miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”

“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.

miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.

it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.

and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.

miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.

“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware.

miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.

that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.

“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.

that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth.

“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara imagines #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

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cupofwyn · 1 month

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⌕ — may i have this dance? ( teaser )

lee jeno!prince x f!reader. it was all self-inflicted pressure when the spotlight finally turned to you as the final member of the family to experience a love story—the miracle that has been passed down from your parents down to your siblings and the privilege of love in marriage that has been jealoused upon the ton of high society. though the world might have run out of love stories available for you when your family took it all to their delight, or so you thought.

genre/s. fluff. a tinge of comedy. bridgerton period. rofan.

warning/s. profanity. little to inaccurate representations of the regency era (as im not literate about it). would add more in the actual fic.

wc/s. 0.5k (oneshot - 4k or more)

a/n. hello there! this is my first fic for nct dream. the thought process on how i decided to make this fic was "doesn't jeno really suit the fanciness of the regency era?" and THEN i remembered the after-party jeno on his milan fashion week (he looked heavenly) then tada 🎉 this happened. ty and enjoy reading :>>>

Love. The most privileged thing a person could ever obtain in one's life in this vicious society.

Romance and union are never the norm when it comes to marital circles, but rather, this was quite the opposite for your family.

Your father and mother, the most known influential couple in their respective social circles and political surges, may have been arranged for a political marriage but soon grew fond of each other throughout the years being husband and wife.

A solace love that caverns in one's security and vulnerability. Sometimes truly vomiting when you'd see their very affectionate and loving gestures they shared.

Then the firstborn, your oldest sister, has come to truly be entranced to the magic of love, which I'd say, she was a wizard of turning a stern duke's son into a doting husband.

Her's was a love at first sight in her first debutante ball with the known cold-hearted son of a duke—a dashing and intense man on the outside, and yet your sister surprisingly speaks of him in a different light when she would gush of him, with cheeks the pinkest of pinks.

Next, your first older brother. A man with no virtues and is uncommitting suddenly introduces his fiancée once in our family bondings in the private drawing room, his facial expressions changed and body language softened up in the presence of the woman next to him—the baron's illegitimate daughter from the outskirts of the kingdom, who he had been secretly sending letters from each day.

No wonder he became much more behaved the past few months to save mother's swooning to this event.

Even your most aggravating second older brother has a potential love story written just for him. A childhood friend who lives across the street to which they are clearly in love with each other but remains to be oblivious to their obvious arrow-shooting gazes every time they see the other. Their push and pull plays are only but a headache to the outsiders and annoyingly intensifies their yearning for each other.

And lastly comes you, a shut-in daughter of marquis, who just debuted tonight and has yet to unfold their own love story—or not.

There is no arranged marriage prepared for you by the marquess and the marchioness, nor a love at first sight in this debutante ball with a callous man who is in fact the opposite when it came to you, a controversial love story with an illegitimate child of a noble, neither a foundation of friendship with a man to which turns into a realization of their attachment to them.

None! It seemed like the world ran out of love stories to write when it came to you since your family has snatched them all.

Until tonight.

"Why don't you say we plan to forge an alliance? I will offer you a dance on the next song—you'll be the subject of curiosity, and the next morning, you'll be flooded with marriage proposals from different suitors, possibly earning you a love match in return."

"How does an offer from you really make that situation possibly happen? Unless you're someone distinguishable, which possibly you're not since I don't recognize you, being the most handsome and attractive man I've seen at most could not possibly mean a thing. Or..." You trailed off.

"Or what?" he gulped.

"You're one of the princes."

"Pfft, what? No—but! This face is enough to attract attention. I promise. And I can't hasten more. My chaperone is possibly on the hunt for blood right now, and I've been hiding from him too long. Are you in this or not?"

"Fine... deal. This better work, Lord...?"

He grins, eyes turning into the most charming shape of crescent moon, and lips upturned in a reassuring feat.

"Lord Lee. Jeno Lee, milady." he answered.

i hope you liked this teaser! if you're interested to be updated on this fic once it's published, don't hesitate to reblog/comment to be added to the taglist. see you soon ^^

#nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno oneshot #nct dream #nct #jeno x reader #lee jeno #jeno imagines #nct imagines #jeno scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct scenarios #彡❒ — jno.lee #🝯🌙 : 𐑡 ≀ wyn's works

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totalswag · 2 months

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what if Drew invites Reader to Italy, like to accompany him to the shooting of his movie QUEER and have a good time visiting, meet the film crew, watch him working, ect... at the same time, Drew and Reader express their feelings towards each other, not directly a confirmation being a couple but a kind of dating for the moment, softly romantic and fun 💯🌹🇮🇹

italy trip — DREW STARKEY

authors note i made one very similar with baby tatum involved when she was a a few months old (dad!drew content btw) however, thank you anon for this beautiful request, i had a fun time writing it. i hope this is what you were looking for!! i spent a lot of time on this request going back an forth making sure it was just right.

summary drew inviting you to accompany him in Italy while he films his new movie, queer, for a month. little down the road feelings towards each other unfold.

requests open

warnings traveling, filming, mentions of drinking, confessing feelings,

Drew flew to Italy last month to film his new movie, Queer. This is an important role for him, and you could not be more proud of him. You recall him being ecstatic when his manager called to inform him that he had been offered the position.

Drew bought you a plane ticket to Italy a week ago, and you spent a month with him. It threw you off surprise, but you couldn't wait to spend a month in Italy with him. He wanted you to come out and see what Italy was like, see him work, wander about, and so on.

You've been close friends for a long time. You met through mutual friends and have remained close ever since. Those closest to you are waiting for you to get together. There’s been little moments between you that show the attraction you have towards each other.

Reaching Italy was like entering a dream. There was beauty to be found everywhere they turned, and the air was fragrant with the aroma of fresh pasta and blossoming flowers.

You have spent the last three days in Italy so far. First two days consisted of you relaxing because jet lag really got to you – you aren’t used to traveling across the world.

You were gushing about the gorgeous country the entire time. It was spectacular in every way. The number of times you thanked Drew for inviting him on this vacation was too many for him to count on his fingers.

Drew gave you a tour of the set, introduced you to the actors, and allowed you to watch him film a few scenes on your third day in Italy. It was impossible to look away from Drew as he was filming a scene. It was too good to pass up the chance to be at his side as he developed his art and saw the magic of filmmaking come to life.

He introduced you to the cast, all very sweet. Had good conversations with them too.

“The way he goes into character instantly, Y/N, is so amazing,” Drew’s manager whispered, “He loves what he does and it shows.” you respond still keeping your eyes on him film a scene.

Having the chance to speak with Dainel Greg was a dream come true. You spent your childhood watching his movies whenever you could with your father. He maintained the conversation and was quite kind. You told him about his movies as James Bond and watching them with your dad.

“We should go out tonight, what do you think?” Drew asked, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as you walked off set.

"Are you taking me around like a tour guide?" Jokingly hip-checking him and giggling, "It seems like a plan to me."

Your comment made him laugh, "You are such a dork, you know that right," as he looked down at you and a small smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll go out to the bars, grab food, and explore” shrugging his shoulders.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” smiling.

Drew and you found time to relax and enjoy one other's company. Your chats were effortless, full of laughter, common interests, and unconscious connection. There was a faint undercurrent of something deeper between you, a subtle but obvious spark that lasted whenever you were together.

When you and Drew stepped outside as the sun started to set, the music was playing softly in the background and a gentle breeze caressed your skin. It was just breathtaking. Drew couldn't help but notice how you were living in the moment.

Drew ushered you in front of him as he entered the bar and showed you where the drinks were. Leaning forward against the counter, you crossed your arms and looked over the menu. Drew was standing close to you, examining the menu.

He lifted his beer with his right hand and took a long sip, saying, "See, I told you this bar is good."

Pushing your finished plate to the side and lifting your beer in your palm, "I'm just glad you brought me here. I think I might need to take some home," sarcastically completing your statement, Drew grins.

For the next thirty minutes, you two stayed at the bar sipping more beer and discussing your garden you started at home. You've always enjoyed gardening, especially when it comes to adding color to your house with flowers.

Drew chuckles, "It's been going great and you should come by and take a look. I've been waking up early in the morning to get it all done before the sun comes out, and I'm looking like a sweaty pig the entire time." He nods.

"What's the reason behind your laughter? It's true that when I initially started working in the garden in the afternoon, it appeared as though I had just gotten out of the shower. You sigh, slumping your shoulder, and then giggle when you give it some more thought.

"I'm glad to hear it's almost finished; I know how much you wanted to grow your own garden when you bought your house," he said softly, looking at you with piercing blue eyes.

His response made you feel warm and fuzzy. Your cheeks reddened and you buried your face in your shoulder. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way all sudden.

It's almost the end of your trip, sad. Three more days till you leave the beautiful country, Italy.

The last few weeks have been a dream come true for your book. Being alongside Drew made the experience a lot more fun. When he wasn't filming, you two spent your days and nights in Italy. You two had lots of flirtatious encounters that left you both flustered.

Earlier today, Drew and you went down to a museum. Drew brought his digital camera to take pictures of art you looked at.

There was something Drew said that stuck with you for the rest of the day,

“C'mon you look beautiful, Y/N, please.”

He had complimented you before, but this time felt different. He's been more loving during the trip, making tiny comments that make the butterflies in your stomach run crazy.

Now you're sitting on the balcony couch, a blanket wrapped over your body, watching the sun set fully. A chilly air struck your face. It felt great. Music can be heard in houses or around town.

Drew's footsteps approach the balcony, and he holds two glasses of wine in his hands. You peek over your shoulder, a smile spreading across your face. He places them on the coasters in front of you and takes a seat next to you.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say before taking a sip of the wine you bought earlier today.

"Anytime, let me know what you think" he says casually, his gaze fixed on you the entire time.

You go on to tell him how excellent the wine is and that he should bring the entire bottle back here because you might as well drink it all.

Drew couldn't help but giggle at your choice of words, but he was also careful because he knew how you got drunk on wine.

He feels the same way, so if you both get drunk on wine, you'll win.

"What's been your favorite experience this trip?" Drew asks, sliding his right arm around your shoulder, and you respond by leaning into his warm touch.

"Everything," you say as you wander off into the distance, "and being here with you." You lean your head back and jab your pointer finger at his cheek. flirtatiously but playfully.

You can notice a change in Drew's physical sensation. You would rather hear what he has to say in return than say anything more. It's clear that he didn't anticipate your final statement.

"I've had a lot of fun with you too, and I was hoping we would do more stuff like this with me and you when our schedules aren't so busy?" His voice sounds unsteady and nervous but he maintains it steady.

“Like a couple?” you question.

“Mhm yes, like a couple” his cheeks are getting red, can’t tell if it's the wine or his cheeks.

He turns his body to face you and places both hands on your lap. "Look, Y/N." I brought you on the trip to confirm my feelings for you, which proved to be genuine.What I am trying to get across is that I view you as more than a friend, Y/N. When I'm around you, you bring me so much joy and happiness that I could go on and on about how I feel.

Your brain is going in circles as you hear the words come out Drew’s mouth. Paying attention by the way he expresses how he feels, genuine and honest. You can’t help but smile when he brings up how you make him feel. All you can do is wrap your arms around him.

"I feel the same way, Drew. I was too terrified to tell you; I had no idea how you felt," you say, moving away from him and peering into those blue eyes that make you feel like you're on cloud nine.

You saw Drew's repeated stares at your eyes and lips. He leans in to give you a short kiss, then pulls away to watch how you react. You grin. He smiles before crashing his lips back against yours, lips moving in unison.

For the next few days, you two took it slow. Not making it formal right away, but rather enjoying the process of dating while remaining casual.

The next three days passed quickly. The second to last day consisted of you taking a day trip to the beach, walking through market after market, stopping for ice cream, taking lots of pictures, grabbing pizza to go to the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore with the sky looking beautiful, music playing in the background, and sharing a few kisses.

This trip was definitely something to remember.

my taglist!

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#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x bestfriend!reader #drew fic #drew starkey fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks blurb #outer banks imagines #drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒

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yan-lorkai · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/yan-lorkai/720655214474035200/good-evening-if-you-dont-mind-id-like-to-hear

Okay so what about this but the reader got a hysterectomy or got her tubes tied before they met without him knowing? How do you think the boys would react? Like let’s say they didn’t have the (new) surgery where you could transplant another woman’s uterus to get pregnant. What would they do if they found out she couldn’t get pregnant anymore?

☆ A/N: Interesting concept, I hadn't thought about it before :o. Wrote this for Malleus, Leona, Rook and Riddle. Let me know if you want a part 2 with other characters, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, pregnancy talk, hysterectomy, afab reader (no pronouns used).

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would be indifferent - not because he doesn't want a child with you. But because it is still possible for you two to have a biological child without you necessarily being pregnant, as dragon fae eggs can only be brought to existence through pure love. Though not in the conventional way, your child will be born as he did once, hatching from an egg, nurtured with the love you both feel. But, in the scenario that this possibility also couldn't happen, he would be devastated. He really wanted to have a family with you and it's just not possible anymore. His dreams are shattered and he needs a moment to recompose himself, you can hear thunders for days on end. Deep within he wished he had met you earlier, that he could keep you from making this surgery. But what's done is done. Though he wonders, could he regrown your uterus with his magic?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona is apathetic about it. It was not a priority as he liked having all your attention on himself, but even someone like him had imagined how your child would look like. Would they have your eyes and his smile? Either way, when you tell him that you got a hysterectomy due to health problems and couldn't get pregnant, he just kinda nods and goes on as if he hadn't heard that at all. It's not really a big deal to him. If you want a child so bad then you can always adopt one or two, even three or four.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Rook is so dramatic about it. He write many melancholic poems in your honour for some reason, coming from a big family you figured he would be more shocked or something. But he is chill with the news, just affectionately annoying you and draping himself all over you. After all he knows he can still tie you to him even without a baby. However he does daydream about you, fuzzy face from sleep and with bed hair, holding your baby at night, singing to make them sleep. He kinda wishes it was possible though, he wanted to be with you through each and every stage of your pregnancy. A pity.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle is clearly unhappy with the news. Like, it is true that there are some diseases and syndromes that require partial or total removal of the uterus or cutting of the uterine tubes. Whatever your reason for having that surgery, Riddle respects that, he even asked you if you were suffering from something. But he still feels sad knowing that he won't be able to have children with you, though he will never tell you that to not burden you with his unnecessary thoughts. But it's noticeable, the way he sighs and stares at the wall for several minutes, or how happy he is when he can take care of his friends' children. It's obvious even. Every happy couple have a child but you two. So if you can't get pregnant, Riddle wants to adopt.

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justauthoring · 2 months

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Heeey, I saw you are writing for fairy tail😍😍 I am obsessed. Can I please request a Natsu x Reader fiction. I don't have anything specific in mind. Maybe they are on a quest and reader is cold and Natsu helps them warm up. I don't know, just pure fluff!!! Thank you!!!!!!

just a lil drabble while im sick :) natsu was my first ever anime crush and ive been feeling so nostalgic about him <3

late night cuddle.

you tried not to make it obvious, but it was getting harder by the second.

just why the hell was it so cold?

it had been like that for the entirety of the mission but bearable in the midst of everything. natsu and gray's bickering, coupled with light chattering with lucy and erza had been enough to keep your mind off of it on the trip here, and then once you were in the thick of it, it was pretty easy to ignore too. fighting, after all, built up quite the sweat.

but now? with no sun and just the dark, lonely sky, and a sleeping bag that was as thin as the shirt you were wearing it? it was so much more harder to ignore now.

a glance over your shoulder to your teammates tells you they're pretty much all asleep themselves, except for natsu who'd elected to keep first watch. happy had first volunteered to join him, but twenty minutes in you'd heard natsu chuckle affectionately and send him off to bed too.

so, that left just him and then the rest of your teammates peacefully asleep.

your eyes flicker to lucy next to you; you could ask her if she wanted to share a blanket and sleep close for warmth. you knew the girl never really wore the most appropriate clothing so she wouldn't mind and it wasn't like it was your first time ever having to share a sleeping bag before.

but.... but she looked so peaceful. her eyes shut and her lips parted just slightly as her chest rose and fell with soft breathes and you remember how she'd gotten hit partically hard earlier in the fight. the large bandaged bruise on her cheek a swift reminder and you didn't want to wake her up especially when rest was probably the best thing for her.

not to mention, wendy was off with gajeel and levy for a mission so she didn't have wendy's soothing healing magic to ease any of the pain.

yeah. no. you definitely were not disturbing her.

you glance to your other teammates. you loved gray, but he definitely wouldn't warm you up—if anything, he'd probably just make you more cold. erza wasn't an option either. you'd made that mistake once before and your head still hurt from being slammed against her armour (which she wore to bed, of course) and then kept against it for the entirety of the night.

happy was nice to cuddle with but he wouldn't keep you all that warm.

finally, your eyes flicker back to natsu. his back is turned to you and he's sitting crossed-legged by the edge of the camp, completely in his own world. he'd be warm, the warmest out of everyone, given him being a fire dragon slayer. but... the thought of... of asking him to warm you up brought an instant flush to your cheeks, embarrassment coursing through your entire veins and that idea gets reected instantly in fear of your feeligns.

so, relectantly, you're turning back around, letting your head fall against your thin pillow again.

you shut your eyes, forcing them shut and pull your knees to your chest, holding your blanket tight against you, praying that even just a bit of warmth will allow you to fall asleep.

a cold burst of wind has you shivering a second later and your teeth practically chitter against one another and you give up on sleep all together then.

with your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, you make your way to where natsu's sat, sitting an appropriate distance from him.

"y/n?"

natsu's voice is soft, an odd tone you've never really heard on him before as his head tilts to face you, confusion written across his face.

"what're you doing up?"

"couldn't sleep," is all you offer in explanation, pulling your blanket closer around you. sending him a soft smile, you gesture behind you. "you can head to bed if you want. i can keep watch."

for a split second, he looks like he's gonna agree, the exhaustion clear on his face as he moves to thank you. then, wind brushes through the camp once again that has your hair swishing and your shoulders pulling in, a hiss leaving your lips as you try to fight through the bitting wind. natsu halts to a stop.

"why couldn't you sleep?"

you barely realize natsu's asked you a question until suddenly his face is right in front of you, concerned.

"o-oh!" you let out, startled, leaning back and using your hand to catch yourself. regrettably though, just the mere presence of natsu so close already makes you feel warmer. "it's no biggie!" you laugh off lightly, despite how good he feels so close. "i was just a little cold so i thought—"

whatever you're about to say gets promptly cut off the second you're being pulled flush against a firm chest. it all happens in a second. it's like you blink and suddenly you're being lifted off the ground and into a lap where a pair of arms wrap snuggly around your waist and you're completely surrounded by warmth.

"n-natsu!"

"here," natsu whispers, gruffly and it nearly sends you into a heart attack. "i'll keep you warm."

you blink, turning back to see him grinning brightly down at you. that same toothy grin natsu always has and the same one that always sends flutters through your stomach and has your heart racing madly against your chest.

you can barely stand it in general and even less when it's directed solely at you.

"oh," you manage to force out. "you—you don't have to, natsu!" you wingle in his grasp, trying to scoot off of his lap, but natsu's grip stays tight around you. "i meant what i said. you should get some rest and—"

"y/n?"

"...yeah?"

natsu's grin fades but only to turn into something softer. a warm, gentle grin falls on his face as he shakes his head. "you're practically shaking. you even feel cold, and that's a lot coming from me." you frown, just then realizing how cold you really had been. "it's fine. i offered to keep watch in the first place and besides? who better than me to keep you warm, right?"

there's a possessive edge to his tone that you don't quite catch.

the way he says it so nonchalantly has you absolutely reeling. so much that all you can manage in response is a weak hum and a nod as you turn back ahead of yourself, slowly and cautiously letting your back fall against natsu's chest.

"comfortable?"

you can feel his chest rumble as he speaks.

"y-yeah," you nod, letting yourself sink into his touch more, unable to deny how warm he is. a good warm. a really good warm. you can already feel the exhaustion you'd been feeling all day catching up to you as your eyelids grow heavy.

"thank you, natsu."

you say it just as your eyes fall shut, unaware of the warm smile natsu glances at you down with as you fall asleep in his arms and in his lap.

"no problem, y/n/n."

"damn, natsu, i didn't think you had it in you."

"shut it, droopy eyes."

"hey—!"

"they're in loveeeee~!"

"seriously, though, natsu. i... i certainly wasn't expecting to wake up to this."

"yeah, natsu. if you forced her, i—"

"what! no! what kind of guy do you take me for! i didn't force her to do—"

you let out a moan at the flutter of noises overwhelming your senses. all you can really register is how warm you are and how comfortable you are. the thought that you could stay here forever crosses your mind and you move to just go back to sleep, and then—

then. you remember everything.

being cold. unable to sleep. going to natsu. and then... then him pulling you into his lap and—

you snap awake, bolting out of natsu's arms who pulls back in surprise at your sudden movement. it takes you a second, blinking the sleep out of your eyes, before your gaze shifts from natsu who's smiling at you, with a faint pink to his cheeks, to the rest of your teammates stood in front of you.

gray looks smug, sending you a smirk as you turn bright red. erza looks utterly confused, her eyes snapping between you and natsu. happy is barely able to contain his laughter. and lucy's looking at you like you've grown a second head.

it occurs to you that you should say something.

turning to them, you raise your hand; "it isn't what you think."

"it's exactly what you think."

"natsu!"

#fairy tail #fairy tail x reader #natsu dragneel #natsu dragneel x reader #natsu x reader

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mochiwrites · 2 months

Note

I would also like to see you put scarian in situations:

51. Meet ugly/awkward first meetings please?

51. Meet ugly/awkward first meetings (put that guy in situations!)

reblogs do more than likes!

“You tricked me!” Grian’s voice lifts in pitch as he yells. He’s spent all day hunting for that scarred merchant who sold him that ‘wooden cutting board.’ Grian’s not the sort to get so easily scammed, but the merchant had been… very nice looking. He managed to find him after practically running through the Hypixel hub all day.

For his part, the man looks startled by Grian’s arrival, green eyes nervously flicking around their surroundings. No one bats an eye at them. He looks at Grian, “Ah! You’re the red sweater guy from a few days ago! How’s that cutting board treating you?” He smiles, all smooth and polite.

It makes Grian growl with frustration. “You said it was wooden, but the second I went to use it, the whole thing crumbled to dust!” The scarred man blinks at him, feigning some kind of concern. It makes Grian want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him around. “You scammed me out of my diamonds.”

“Why I’d never scam! Everything I have to sell,” he gestures to the large pouch at his feet, “is completely authentic! If you want another cutting board I could—”

“I want my diamonds back,” Grian interrupts him, not even giving him another chance to smooth talk his way into Grian’s wallet. Not again. He’s not letting this handsome guy have his way with him again!

The merchant winces in return, quickly covering it up with a smile, “I’m afraid it was non-refundable! I’d be happy to give you another product in exchange?” He tilts his head before his eyes light up. “How about a couple of rare magic crystals? Or an enchanted book? I have a one of a kind fishing rod with so much luck, a fisherman once found Atlantis because of it!”

Grian’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance, “How in Void’s name did I let you talk your way into making me buy anything from you, dude. It’s so obvious you’re a scam.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re so blunt it hurts?” the scarred man quips, the smile never leaving his face. “Does that scare off the ladies?”

Grian snorts, “It’s sent plenty of men running.”

He pretends not to notice how the man’s eyes light up. “You sure have a sharp wit about you. I like that.” The smile on his face softens into something a bit more real, and Grian sees the way it reaches his eyes. It makes his heart skip a beat.

“You’re not smooth talking your way out of repaying me.” He crosses his arms, squinting at the man. “I’m expecting to be repaid — I gave you ten diamonds for a piece of junk!”

The man laughs, and oh if isn’t the nicest sound Grian has ever heard. “May I interest you in a different deal instead, my good sir?” he inquires, taking a step closer.

“Depends on if it involves getting my diamonds back or not.” Grian lifts a brow.

“While I can’t make your diamonds magically reappear, I can make it up to you. If you’ll allow me too.” That stupidly soft smile is still on his face.

Grian’s nose scrunches up and he scoffs. “Thanks but no thanks. I have rent to pay so if you can’t pay me back, I have to go find a different way.” He knew it was a bad idea to begin with! What the heck did he need a cutting board for anyway?! He doesn’t even cook for crying out loud! The man really had just… charmed him with words alone. Well, his looks certainly had something to do with it. It’s not Grian’s fault he’s weak for a guy with fluffy brown hair and nice green eyes!

He frowns and steps back, turning around. He starts walking away with hurried steps.

“W-Wait!” the man cries out, hurrying after him. Grian’s pace doesn’t slow, determined. They fall into step together, walking side by side. “Just hear me out!”

“No thanks!” Grian starts walking faster, hoping to shake him.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t.

“I promise it’ll be worth your time! Your while even! I’ll knock your socks off!”

“Not interested!”

“Please! Let me take you out to dinner!”

Grian stops short, eyes going wide. His cheeks go red, and he whirls on the merchant to look at him. “What?!”

“Let me take you out to dinner!” he repeats, and Grian continues to stare at him, jaw dropping. “While I can’t give you back your diamonds, I can at least treat you to some Goodtimes.” He winks, and oh Void is he flirting right now?!

“I— you— what—” Grian stammers out, heart thundering in his chest. The man’s smile is doing terrible things to his critical thinking skills.

“You won’t have to pay for a thing! I can talk our way into the best restaurant of your choosing,” he continues on.

Now that… is a curious thing. And Grian feels like he’s about to make another bad decision.

“…if it’s a date, you should at least tell me your name.”

“It’s Scar! Scar Goodtimes,” Scar replies, green eyes bright and pleased. There’s a little smirk on his face. “And you are?”

“Grian.” Is he really doing this? “So… where and when am I meeting you, Scar?” He’s really doing this.

“Let’s say… tomorrow afternoon? Meet me here?” Scar questions, and Grian takes in a breath.

“I expect my socks to be blown off,” he teases.

(It turns out to be the best decision he’s ever made. Even if the first choice was a bad financial investment.)

#mochi speaks #mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #ask game

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monimccoythings · 1 year

Text

Cuteness Overload

Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.

Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5

So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.

You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.

If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.

Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.

Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.

As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.

Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.

You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".

Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.

After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.

She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.

Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.

It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.

Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.

You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.

Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.

#bowser x reader #mario movie x reader #y/n #bowser x y/n #bowser x you #bowser #mario movie

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forgeofthenine · 6 months

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I recently watched some of season two of The Legend of Vox Machina and saw the Gimli episode with the spicy sketch book. Lets say s/o had their own spicy sketchbook and the three Tiefling Bachelors happened to find it?

I've never watched the Legend of Vox Machina, but I had a great time writing this set of headcanons! I will admit, I did also bounce around a couple ideas with the lovely @swordcreature for Dammons headcanons. I hope everyone enjoys <3

NSFW under the cut

The bachelors finding their partners 'spicy' sketchbook

Dammon

Dammon would probably pick up your sketchbook by accident when he's trying to grab one of his own similarly bound books

He knows what it actually is the moment he opens the book, seeing the carefully drawn lines and subtle colour on the page

However, as much as he knows this is an invasion of your privacy, he can't tear his eyes away

There, on the page, is a drawing of him completely naked and leaning back against one of his anvils with a cheeky smile on his face

It's such a shock he can't help but flip through the pages, revealing even more sketches of a scantily clad blacksmith

His entire face is flushed, his tail swishing behind him as he eagerly realises this is how you view him

Absolutely the type to put your sketchbook back but will make suggestive comments that make you wonder if he's seen what you've drawn

It piques your curiosity but there's no way for you to get more information from him

That is until he recreates one of your sketches as a surprise

You walk into the kitchen, finding Dammon in the smallest and tightest pair of boxer briefs he owns, a suggestive grin on his face

Zevlor

I feel like it would actually be pretty fun to outright show Zevlor your spicy sketchbook

Once you guys have been together for a while you realise he's much more sexually liberated than you first thought

That doesn't stop the way his whole body stiffens as soon as his gaze falls upon the picture you drew portraying how he looks while getting head

He's looking at a picture of himself, sketched eyes rolling back and a heavy flush in coloured lead on his face, knowing now thats how he looks as you kneel between his legs

While being slightly embarrassed you've spent so much time drawing these things, it's obvious that he wants to see more and will ask to look at the rest

His nails trace some of the lead lines as he looks at them, particularly on pictures that might include a portrayal of you in it

You can easily tell he likes your lewd drawings in two ways, how Zevlor compliments them and how his pants tent at the mere idea of the things you think of doing to him

You can't really blame him if he carries you off to your shared bed to have his way with you once he's finished admiring your art

Rolan

Rolan is barely looking at the book as he picks it up and flips it open, expecting it to be his tome on illusory magic

You can imagine his suprise when instead he's looking at a picture of him spread over a bed, cock hard as rests against his bare stomach

The book snaps shut before it's near flinged back onto his desk he picked it up from, he can feel the way his ears burn as if fire courses through his veins

He tries to put it out of his mind, distracting himself unsuccessfully with study until you come in and collect your sketch book

As soon as you do, his hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist

You can see the soft blush on Rolans face as he avoids your gaze, brusquely asking if you only drew him in compromising positions

He's even more flustered by the laugh he hears, pulling you in closer to him and actually looking you in the eyes now, asking if you put it on his desk on purpose

There will be plenty of time for you to show him your collection of lewd art after he's done showing you just what you've awoken in him

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #dammon smut #zevlor smut #rolan smut

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starbylers · 10 months

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Rambling about things that’ve been said a million times but like…character’s final scenes in each season foreshadow what will be going on with them in the next season right? We’ve seen this. So by that logic we literally know what’s going to happen in s5. (In terms of character’s journeys, not talking about plot). Like we know for certain. They’re barely even theories to me anymore it’s just canon waiting to happen 😭. A huge amount of my Byler confidence comes from this tbh so if you need a little boost maybe this will help.

Dustin’s scene shows he is going to be grieving Eddie (we’ve already had confirmation of this I think so we know the pattern follows for s4 that final scenes are foreshadowing)

Lucas’ scene shows he will obviously be doing everything possible to care for and help Max

El’s scene shows she’s going to be focused on 1) saving Max & defeating Henry and 2) her family and having the support of her dad back

Caleb literally mentioned that Lucas & El’s relationship will be explored and we know Max is the thing that ties them together (the boyfriend and the best friend) so that’s another piece of evidence of s4 final scenes being foreshadowing

So it has to follow that Will & Mike’s scene shows they are definitely going to be working as a team

And if we take symbolism into account…

Their final one-on-one in s3 lingered on a shot of a blue telephone on yellow wallpaper & we know all about their s4 communication issues so yeah we’re absolutely taking symbolism into account

…that red flipped couch? They’re going to be in the upside down. Together. In the season where Will is going to have an emotional arc which will ‘tie the entire series together’. (Although even if the couch stuff was somehow incorrect the team part still stands).

To me the chances of M*leven being endgame in this scenario are so tiny they’re almost nonexistent? If next season was about showing how strong of a couple and how in love they are (which is basically the only place their story could really go atp if the intention was for them to be endgame), they would’ve had their final scene together! El would be sitting in Will’s place on the couch! Mike would be reaching into the light and grabbing El’s shoulder, symbolising that he’s choosing her.

The meaning behind this shot is so clear it’s almost funny like it literally looks like some magical celestial beam of light from heaven is shining down on where they’re connected

They wouldn’t be spending the season with their stories primarily focused on & tied to other people (“other people” being Mike’s literal other love interest!!!) if the show was trying to tell a story of them being this alleged central power couple working together and growing together in a loving, healthy, mature, supportive relationship. It’s completely illogical.

I feel like it’s so obvious that Mike and Will are at least going to be working together next season, and it’s incredibly weird to me that people even try and argue us on that point. Is it denial? Is it the fact that deep down, they are actually aware of how foreshadowing and logical story structure work and they’re scared that if they admit Mike and Will are going to be paired up, they’ll have to admit where the story is inevitably leading…?

#byler #anti mileven #and I’m sure it’s not just the Byler scene that involves symbolism I mean the story Lucas was reading Max is definitely an Easter egg #I haven’t looked into it but someone on here must have #and then there’s the final scene obviously #this isn’t a super thoughtful analysis sorry I have a bunch of stuff in drafts I’m just too tired to work on it atm 😭

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freakingholland · 4 months

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Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori