#However i’m not the best at writing poems

[raemeh]

thinking about scamster,

thinking about how scam believes that having a child will save a relationship when thinking of calling it quits,

thinking about how he even went out of his way to test out his theory on Marco and Grant when they were having trouble with going back on their marriage,

thinking about how he thought he was proven right,

thinking about how maybe scam and Jodie might’ve had a disagreement,

thinking about scam potentially being scared of Jodie leaving

thinking about the year long relationship these two had

thinking about how that potentially been the deepest connection scam had to anyone maybe the same if not even more than mark

thinking about maybe as a last resort scam had hermie to convince him to stay

thinking about how happy he would’ve been to raise hermie along with Jodie in hell

thinking about his hopes were shattered in front of him as he saw Jodie’s anxiety of suddenly having another kid out of the blue

thinking about the fight that would ensue between him and Jodie because of this.

thinking about how he realized he was wrong

thinking about how he might see hermie as “the thing that ruined his marriage”

thinking about how he also gave him to wealthy parents, caring about him enough that he wouldn’t want him to have a financial rough life,

thinking about how scam has put hermie and his friends in danger at least three times, two of which were on purpose

thinking about how the ways he puts hermie in danger he does it ina way where he can’t see him/there’s too much going on in that he doesn’t have to focus on it

thinking about scam trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care if hermie dies

Thinking about how he doesn’t care if someone kills him

thinking about how hermie would react to his father not caring if he’s dead

thinking about how Jodie would feel about scam not caring if hermie’s dead

thinking about Scam and Jodie

[mondaymelon]

— “𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞…” ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ xiao, kazuha, heizou, wanderer x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 modern!au, the two of you live together, established relationship, wanderer has anger issues, reader needs an oscar !!

⤷ jokingly ignoring your anemo boyfriend ♡

“...Did I do something not to your liking?”

XIAO’s frantic, even if it doesn’t show on his displeased expression. And his worries aren’t without reason - you’ve been ignoring his presence since he came home from an outing this afternoon. It’s already evening, yet you still haven’t uttered a word to him, only occasionally sending him complicated glances that he can’t even begin to unravel. He knows your heart well, that much is true, yet right now his senses have been cast into an abyss of confusion.

You cast him a sideways look. “No, nothing.” Even as the male visibly brightens at the fact that you’ve finally acknowledged him, you still seem as offset as before. It’s rather laughable how this entire matter is bringing him back to when the two of you first met, when he still acted so bristlingly cold to you, and how your warm disposition had melted that away… the light scowl on your face proved to serve that he had made a mistake.

What kind of mistake? Perhaps he’d never know. Xiao thought that he had been acting well recently, hadn’t lashed out with his sharp tongue or started a dispute with a particularly foolish person, yet perhaps he had slipped without his knowledge, and you had been there as his silent witness.

“Nothing? If I’ve done anything to upset you, please, tell me what it was.” 

“I said it’s nothing.”

The frown on his face only deepens. Were you testing him? “If I hadn’t done anything wrong, then why won’t you look at me?” You only remain silent, and while Xiao isn’t hurt, the adeptus is utterly clueless about what to do in a situation like this. His voice grows soft, leaning closer to you and staring into your eyes even as you evade his.

“Please look at me, love.”

It’s hard to utter those words, especially when his instincts are failing him, yet the male jolts as you let out a laugh.

“Ahahaa- Xiao, what are you- Aha-!” You stop for a breath, still laughing quietly. Great, now Xiao is even more confused. Why were you laughing? Was it because of him? Either way, he’s just glad that he’s rid the scowl on your face.

“I’m sorry, but… just what do you mean?”

“Nonono, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” You shake your head slightly, smiling. “I thought it’d be funny to prank you, but I didn’t expect it to be that effective…”

Xiao blinks. “So…”

“It was a joke.”

“Ah. Is that so? However…”

You blink, and you can feel his presence behind you, his whisper tickling your ears as he speaks. His voice is low, a near growl as his sturdy arms pull you closer. “That lost time. When you evaded my gaze and affection.”

“You better make it up to me.” ♡

“Are you sure you’re alright, dearest?”

You can see the sincere concern reflected in KAZUHA’s crimson eyes. He’s keeping his distance, yet he knows something is off, and it makes him unreasonably uneasy. The way you’re acting now isn’t something he hasn’t seen before. Kazuha’s been through much, and he knows what hurt looks like. It’s hard to stay silent, but he knows that he won’t be able to reach you at the moment. Sometimes, walls that were put up could only lower over time.

“I’m fine.” As if that were true - then why was your voice so cold? The male’s heart aches as he watches you disappear into your room, the door closing shut behind you. Ah, even writing a poem wouldn’t be able to capture his feelings right now. Kazuha wants to take you in his arms, to embrace you, to hold you tight as he whispers to you that everything will be okay. Yet even for the person who understands you best, he knows that what you need is rest, not whatever else he could provide.

He sits in front of your door, his head leaning against the wood. He’ll wait until you’re ready to talk to him, even if that time wouldn’t come soon. It’s silent, that is, until he hears a faint sound. Laughter? His face visibly brightens, only to grow confused as he hears the words, “Holy shit, I am one very good actor-”

He calls out your name, a stunned expression appearing on his face as your door swings open, your surprised eyes meeting his. “Ah, were you lurking there?” There’s a visible grin on your face as you let out a little laugh. “I should’ve expected that much, you wouldn’t simply brush away the incident like that, would you? Ah, to think the prank would be found out so easily…” You let out a playful sigh.

“Wh- What is… all of this?” His expression is one of distant amazement, crimson eyes wide as he glances at your beaming self. Sure, he knew that your disposition was often teasing, but to go this far…? He lets out a good-natured laugh at your antics, a warm smile gracing his lips. He’s not upset - he can’t be, not when he’s glad that you’re able to laugh like this without hindrance. “It’s always something with you, isn’t it?” He chuckles, drawing closer and leaving a light peck on your forehead, sweeping away your hair with a soft touch. “Hm, but this is rather unfair, isn’t it?”

His eyes adopt a sense of contentment as he watches your expression grow perplexed. “Huh?”

“To play such a cruel trick on me, without second regard… no matter.”

“You’ll just have to make it up to me, dearest.” ♡

“Huh? What’s up with you today??”

The moment you avoid his all-knowing gaze, HEIZOU’s already thinking up of every possibility. Someone annoying at work? He had heard you complaining about obnoxious commissioners far longer than he cared to remember. Or maybe someone had taken one of your bounties, and now you were at a loss of mora? Or perhaps the person in question was someone different entirely… himself.

“Nothing.” Your reply is short as you merely give him a quick glance as you step through the door. It’s apparent that you’re trying to weasel out of his sight as soon as possible, with the way you’re frantically undoing your shoes without so much of another word.

But he certainly hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? No, of course not. How could you possibly find an annoyance in his ever-charming smile? Ah, but then again, it’s not unreasonable for the person at fault to be none other than himself, but with the way your eyes hold just the slightest shred of mischief… oh. Oh. Ahaha, you’re proving to be rather amusing, aren’t you? To think you’d dare pull such a slight on someone like him… a half-done case like this is easy to unravel. But no matter, he’ll play along, just for his own entertainment.

“Awww, love, did I do something wrong?” He blinks his sparkling green eyes up at you, fluttering his lashes. Glittering tears pool at the edges of his eyes. “C’mon, you can tell me what happened…!”

You blink, utterly dumbstruck. “Heizou, what the fuck.”

“D-Don’t avoid me, alright?!” He whines, clinging to your shirt desperately. “I-I don’t want to be alone…!!” His large doe eyes, growing even larger under your gaze, are glossy with tears.

In all honesty, you should’ve expected this. But perhaps a small part of you wanted to believe that Heizou wouldn’t just figure all of it out off the bat… he knows you far too well to nod along with concern.

“Wh-Why aren’t you talking? Do you hate me??” Heizou’s blubbering, close to breaking into tears. Fuck, he was an even better actor than you were, how was this level of satire even possible?? What kind of detective cases is he having to go through if he needs these kinds of skills… you sigh.

“Damn Heizou, you could’ve at least pretended to fall for it.” You huff, sitting down on the couch before shifting to the side to make space for the male. “You’ve gone and ruined my nightly entertainment.”

He blinks at you, then laughs, quickly changing out of his facade. It’s startling, how he’s able to switch characters so easily, almost like he’s taking off one mask and simply putting on another. “I would’ve been a fool to fall for that shoddy performance.”

“A fool? Don’t flatter yourself.” You let out a joking exasperated sigh, leaning into his shoulder with a pout.

“But perhaps I am one?” He hums thoughtfully, ruffling his hands through your hair. “After all, you certainly are, and I am your lover, so… what is it they say? Like meets like?”

You puff out your cheeks, face growing red. “Heizou, I’m not a fool!”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling as he grins. “I know. However, I fear the same could not be said about me…” He shrugs his shoulders, sighing dramatically, yet you can hear the impending mischief in his tone.

“Or… perhaps I’m a fool for you? ♡

“Hey, did you just ignore me??”

All you did was brush past him at the doorway, yet WANDERER is already bristling, eyebrows drawn up in a scowl as his gaze burns into your back. “Oh great, so now you aren’t even going to respond to me, are you?? Fun. So funny. I hope you feel proud of yourself, dimwit.” His rage only continues when you remain silent. “What, did I do something wrong? The fuck, answer me!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You manage to add a note of sarcasm into your voice, inwardly cheering yourself on at your sheer acting talent. “I’m just tired today. Don’t talk to me.”

His indigo eyes widen at your words. “Hah? Wh-What do I have to do with that? That doesn’t give you the right to-!” He catches himself before he falls into a fit, knowing surely that in the heat of the moment, something would likely be broken and thrown out the window, which had just been fixed last Thursday. He lets out a sigh, one of exasperation. “Why must you be so idiotic?”

He supposed he was the idiotic one to expect a response.

“Alright, I see how it is. We’re going to play this game. Very well.” He confidently strides up next to you and pulls up a chair, watching your pencil draw words about who knows what. Wanderer is someone stubborn, that much is apparent, and he’s not one to back down. And you’ve just presented him with an opportunity to flare that tenacity of his. Of course, he wouldn’t be lying if he hadn’t said that he wasn’t at least the slightest bit concerned about what had happened to you, how could he not? 

Ah, but at the same time, he had threatened everyone in your classes and workplace not to lay a single finger on you, so who would have possibly dared to defy his command? If that was the case… you instinctively flinch, glancing at the male in your peripheral vision, whose eyes have grown cold as the air trembles at his sudden release of bloodlust.

He’s definitely misinterpreting this, isn’t he? You grumble, catching his attention for a brief moment. “Nevermind, I don’t think I can pull this off…”

The blank expression on his face is almost worth the scolding you’ll get after his realization. “...What?”

“You’ve been… pranked?” You give him a sheepish smile. “I thought it would be funny to ignore you for a day, so-”

“You what?” Shit, his bloodlust hasn’t disappeared, just switched recipients. You let out a shaky laugh as he glowers at you, clearly enraged. Ah, you’ve certainly dug yourself into quite a deep hole, haven’t you? But it shouldn’t prove to be a problem…

“Don’t be so mad at me, alright? I just wanted to poke some fun!” You press your lips into his cheek before he can get a word in, smiling against his smooth skin. “Mwah! There, my apology!”

His silence is a terrifying thing, but soon enough his lips move to form words, mumbled out and hard to hear as his cheeks ever so subtly grow red. “...t…en…”

“Huh? Sorry, I couldn’t-”

“Not enough. Kiss me again, and just maybe I’ll forgive you.” ♡

(a/n) wouldn't it be so silly if i posted at least every monday so my blog name would actually make sense. so silly. so unbelievably improbably inconceivably impossibly unthinkably unimaginably silly !!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[azsazz]

Brains and Bravado

Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]

Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻

Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3,944

Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh

_________________________________________

You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.

Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.

It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling. 

It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.

You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him. 

No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.

The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.

Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.

Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.

That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.

One of the ones that Dorian’s in.

Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.

You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.

He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.

Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.

By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.

“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.

You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.

“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.

Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.

“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.

You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”

Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”

You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.

Your heart races in your chest.

Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.

“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”

“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.

“Where is your little lap dog?”

Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.

You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.

“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”

He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.

You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.

“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.

“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”

You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.

“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”

“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.

You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.

His cock twitches at that.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.

Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.

“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”

 “Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.

His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.

You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.

“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.

At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.

“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”

His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.

You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.

He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.

“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.

You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.

He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.

That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.

That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.

Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.

He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.

You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”

“Do you still dislike me?”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.

“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?

Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”

And then the prince feasts.

You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.

“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.

There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.

The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.

“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.

Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.

Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”

It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.

His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.

“Dorian,” you gasp.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Move.”

Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.

He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.

“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”

“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.

You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.

You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.

And now he has you.

[delicatebarness]

the manuscript | prologue

Summary: The first encounter.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: 18 in this part)

Word Count: 837

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A/N: Oh, hello Dr. Barnes. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

The university loomed before you, the ivy-clad walls and gothic spires stood as testaments to the centuries of academic excellence. Renowned for its rigorous standards, the prestigious institution drew in the brightest minds from across the globe. You stepped through the grand archway, the air humming with the energy of countless scholarly pursuits, each echoing through the hallowed halls. 

You haven’t long turned 18, now a freshman, driven by a passion for creative writing. Your nights were spent hunched over notebooks, pouring your heart into stories and poems. Determined to make the most of this opportunity, you reflected on your talent that earned you a place here. With the best and brightest. It was a new chapter of your academic journey, and it started today.

Dr. James B. Barnes is a brilliant literature professor yet, reserved. His reputation preceded him– known for his profound insights and standards, he was feared and revered by his students. As you approached his office, your heart began to race. 

Tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, stood a heavy oak door with a brass nameplate glinting in the dim light. You took a deep breath and knocked firmly. Creaking open the door, you revealed Dr. Barnes. Sat behind a cluttered desk, his gaze lifted from a pile of papers, meeting yours. Piercing yet thoughtful, there was a moment of silent assessment. 

You felt the weight of his scrutiny as you stepped inside. The room smelled of leather with a faint trace of whiskey. 

“Good afternoon,” you begin, trying to steady your voice despite the nerves. “I’m going to be joining your advanced English literature class.” 

“Ah, yes,” he responded, his tone measured. “You must be the freshman. Please, have a seat.” 

You took a seat in the heavy leather chair opposite his desk. The two of you exchange a few professional courtesies, keeping the conversation brief but charged with mutual respect. You could sense that he had recognized your passion, and you were determined to prove yourself. 

~

A week later, you found yourself attending his class, surrounded by fellow students. His presence was commanding as he stood at the front of the room. A masterful blend of critical analysis and profound insight, his lectures were delivered with authority. 

Your hand raised after a particularly challenging lecture, Dr. Barnes acknowledged you with a nod.

“Yes?” 

“I have to disagree with your interpretation of his work,” you say, your voice clear and confident. A stark contrast from your first meeting with him. “I believe his use of fragmented narrative serves as a challenge to the notion of a singular, authoritative voice, rather than to obscure meaning.” 

The room fell silent, all eyes turned to you. Dr. Barnes regards you with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. 

“Interesting perspective,” he replied, keeping his tone cool. “However, I would argue that the fragmentation serves more to reflect the chaotic nature of postmodern existence.” 

You don’t back down. “Isn’t that chaos a direct challenge to traditional narrative structures? He seems to be inviting readers to find their own meaning within the disarray.” 

Your heated debate ensues, intellectual electricity cranking the air. Your classmates watched, their gazes swapping between you and Dr. Barnes like they were at Wimbledon as you exchanged arguments. 

Initially, he was annoyed by your boldness, yet you caught a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. You thrived on pushing boundaries and testing limits, in particular, with those you found intellectually stimulating and authoritative. Leaving everyone, including Dr. James B. Barnes, captivated.

“Your argument is well-crafted,” he concedes, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I look forward to more discussions like this.” 

As the weeks passed, Dr. Barnes’ class quickly became the highlight of your week. A battlefield of ideas in each session, a place where you could push your intellectual prowess. Dr. Barnes, though initially reserved, seemed to relish the debates as much as you did. 

One chilly autumn afternoon, you lingered after another stimulating class as the other students left. The room fell quiet, as though itself was in thought and reflection. Dr. Barnes noticed and approached you.

“Good work today,” he said, his tone less sharper than usual. “You’ve brought a new energy to these discussions.” 

“Thank you,” you smile, a rush of pride coursed through you. “Your classes challenge me in ways I never expected.” 

He nodded, “To challenge and to inspire, that’s the point of academia. Keep questioning, you could go far.” 

You smiled again, your cheeks becoming flushed. “I’m glad you’re not tired of my questions yet.” 

“On the contrary,” he said as he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that caused your heart to race. “I find them… refreshing.” 

The flicker of something unspoken passed between you, a deeper connection yet to be explored. His words echoed as you left the lecture hall, the promise in his eyes lingered. 

What were the boundaries between student and teacher? And, could they transform into something more profound? 

- - -

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[cambion-companion]

Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said.  Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

[toastsrambles]

One of the Best Sherlock Holmes Adaptations No One Seems to Know

I know that I’ve been mostly (read: only) doing Moriarty the Patriot metas, but I wanted to talk about something different.

I’ve been obsessed with Sherlock Holmes for… a while. Seriously, everyone I talk to is sick of this Victorian detective by now. I’ve also encountered my fair share of adaptations (shoutout to A Study in Emerald, a short story by Neil Gaiman and 221B, a poem by Vincent Starrett, for being some more of my favorite adaptations). But I’ve seen no one - no one - actually talk about my favorite - and in my opinion, one of the best - Sherlock Holmes adaptations.

Sherlock: the Musical (2022)

With a book by Stefan van de Graaff and Denning Burton, and Music and Lyrics by Denning Burton. It’s currently touring, with the full musical available, professionally filmed, on YouTube. The official cast recording is available on YouTube, Apple Music, Spotify, and more.

I could geek out about this musical for literal hours, so some of my favorite highlights will be under the cut. Spoilers ahead, so if you really want to go in blind, listen/watch first.

Now, important to note that this is not an adaptation of BBC Sherlock, like the name might imply. This is an adaptation of the original stories by Arthur Conan Doyle.

Firstly, the opening song, Streets of London.

This song gives you the perfect insight into all the major characters (sans Moriarty).

Sherlock Holmes, the famous consulting detective, is completely confident in his abilities. No criminals can escape: “not when you're messing with Sherlock and John/you just lose your freedom”.

John Watson is Holmes’ loyal companion, his Boswell. Whereas Holmes sets them up as partners, John sees things a bit differently: “right by his side is my spot/and I’m just fine writing lines of what he did”.

Lestrade is impressed by “this Baker Street detective”, while fellow Scotland Yard officer Alice is a bit more judgemental and skeptical: “he doesn’t have any friends���.

We also get this lovely chorus (00:54):

”Streets of London hide

Nothing from Sherlock’s eyes

This darkening plot

Is not what you thought, so

Are you watching close enough?

Blink you’ll miss this mystery unwind

He won’t be undone

Sherlock Holmes, always one step ahead of them

There’s only one you can’t outrun in London”

This song establishes the two main conflicts of the musical: the public perception of Sherlock Holmes and Watson’s relationship to Holmes.

Now, Holmes and Watson have a duet, Elementary, where their chorus reads:

“It’s elementary

Without a doubt, we’re the greatest duo sround

Elementary

The higher we go, the further they fall down

It’s just like gravity

How do we do the things we do?

It’s a natural phenomenon

That the best things come in two

It’s elementary”

And yet, Watson still says in the bridge: “behind every legend stand dynamic friends”. He’s behind the legend, in that he’s responsible for Holmes’ fame, but he’s also behind the legend; he’s just… not as important as Sherlock Holmes.

And, in case you didn’t notice: in Streets of London, the ensembles sings Holmes’ praises. Not Watson’s. The only person who notices Watson’s contributions is Holmes. Not even Moriarty does, not all the way.

Moriarty first becomes known when he plants a bomb that even Sherlock wasn’t able find- it was Watson who found it. However, the bomb never went off. Still, the story somehow makes it to the paper that Sherlock stopped the bomb.

The song Read All About It is something of a reprise of Streets of London, both in music and theme. It drills in the fact that Sherlock works alone, that it’s him and him alone who can save London. The way the public is whipped into a fervor of idealism is almost similar to Moriarty the Patriot, actually.

However, while the public places their faith in Holmes, he worries:

“Terror in London Nowhere to hide, fear in the streets, people are running Running to me How could I not see it coming? How do I not know what’s coming?”

See, the climax of this musical is the song One Step Ahead. Moriarty has lured both Holmes and Watson to Reichenbach Falls under the assumption that the other is in danger. Moriarty then holds Watson at gun point and tells Holmes that if he doesn’t jump, he’ll shoot Watson. In the end, Holmes agrees, and the song ends with this exchange:

“Holmes: I have to save John

So this is how it ends

Not enough time

Maybe death will be a friend

Moriarty: You? You don’t have any friends-

Watson: This time I’m one step ahead of you!”

Watson then tackles Moriarty off the cliff before Holmes can jump, leaving Holmes alone on the cliff.

The next song, Love Someone, is just- it’s so good. It can be read as both platonic or romantic, but the underlying fact is that Watson has shown Sherlock how important loving someone is, and how important it is to hold the ones you love close because “time is yours before it slips away”.

And, some more of my favorite lyrics from this song:

“It was love that took all my fear away If that love could be here and here to stay How would things change?”

“Love someone Love can hold the world until healing comes The greatest conclusion yet, when all is said and done”

“If you’ve prayed for a moment, pled to take their place And yet how quiet it felt, when you imagined their face Pure love, unchanged, a peace that carries your pain Time is yours, before it slips away”

And of course, the last line: “things have changed now”. The acknowledgement that Holmes is fundamentally different without Watson, and maybe can’t even be Holmes without Watson. It’s so incredibly touching.

Of course, though, Watson isn’t truly gone. We learn shortly after his funeral that he managed to survive by holding onto a ledge he spotted when making his way up the cliff in the first place.

This is where we truly learn how much everyone underestimated Watson. See, while Moriarty was the only one to see Watson’s importance to Sherlock, Holmes was the only one to see Watson’s true value. Watson is smart and competent; when Moriarty planted a bomb, he was the one who jumped on top of it with no hesitation (a la Captain America).

We wrap up with Streets of London (Reprise), where Holmes and Watson accept a new case and return to 221B.

Honorable mentions of stuff I ADORE about this musical:

Watson’s song Into the Shadow. Not only are the vocals superb, this song perfectly encapsulates how Watson has faded into Holmes’ shadow in the public eye. But his solemn acceptance of this - “if it saves your life/and they forget mine/then I don’t mind/stepping back into the shadows” - just makes it heartbreaking.

The fact that every single musical number is just awesome. A Different Story, where Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, and Alice interrogate a suspect? A Most Unusual Case, where we see the people who come to Holmes for help? The Greatest Mind, where Holmes and Moriarty first face off? ALL OF THEM are great, including the ones I didn’t just list. The lyrics, instrumentation, and vocals just blow me away.

The references to other cases! For just two examples: in A Most Unusual Case, the blue diamond in a coat sleeve is a reference to The Blue Carbuncle; and in Streets of London (Reprise), the recently engaged typist with a mysteriously vanished fiancée is A Case of Identity.

Also, Watson making deductions in Streets of London (Reprise) is just great :D

The way Watson supposedly dies at Reichenbach, and the subconscious message that it doesn’t matter that it was Watson who died instead of Holmes; either way, Holmes and Watson are dead. The death of one is the death of the other.

The way minor characters like Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft are portrayed is amazing. Seriously, I love the characterization here.

Just… I love this musical so much. It just feels like a love letter to Sherlock Holmes, and the passion behind it is astounding.

So, yeah. If you like Sherlock Holmes, give this a watch/listen. (Please, I really need to know that more people are aware of this masterpiece).

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Bilbo was taking surprisingly well to Valinor. Of course he’d been expecting it to be an adjustment, elves were very different creatures to hobbits after all, but he was certainly in fine comfort here. He’d always got the impression that elves had very- well for want of a better word elven ideas about what constituted a home, it was not his place to criticise but sleeping in trees seemed to lack a sense of cosiness to be perfectly honest, but Elrond seemed to have gone to a heartwarming effort to make his surroundings more familiar.

He and Frodo had been given spacious yet hobbit proportioned chambers in the building (practically a castle really) his wife had made for their household, a display of generosity that he should have come to expect yet still took him off guard. The rooms were filled with lush wall hangings, rugs and throw blankets, each pieces of art, and there were ever so many places one could sit and work away at whatever took their fancy or simply gaze out at the stars or waves crashing against the rocks.

Despite the seeming peace and tranquillity of his surroundings he was not oblivious to the fact that there was tension in the halls. He was proven right when Elrond came in one day after going down to the city, somewhere the hobbits had still not quite worked up the nerve to go themselves as they knew they would stick out like sore thumbs and were not fully prepared to be bombarded with questions and stares.

The Lady Galadriel’s brother Finrod had become familiar company however, when he was not too busy teasing his sister that is, and seemed genuinely eager and impressed with all they had to say. He even seemed enthusiastic about Bilbo’s attempts at poetry, though when he heard a reinterpretation of an ancient romance ballad about the flame haired princess being freed from her tower by a valiant elven prince he had to cover his mouth politely before bursting into a fit of laughter when he met Elrond’s eyes. He apologised profusely afterwards, though Bilbo was still trying to discover what had been so funny.

On this day however Finrod was not in attendance, it was just some of Elrond’s household, his wife and Bilbo in the corner writing a new poem about Beren and Luthien (a little overdone perhaps but still an incredible story). Elrond hung his cloak on the stand by the door and adjusted some invisible flaw in his braid work before picking up a book and silencing all the numerous proceedings in the bustling communal area with one casually uttered sentence from the window seat.

‘I decided to invite my parents over for dinner.’

Glorfindel dropped the plant pot he was holding with a crash, the only noise in the stifling silence. Everyone seemed to take that as their queue to leave whatever they were doing and walk calmly, run like their lives depended on it for the doors, some even for the windows. All except Bilbo that is, he wanted to hear what it was that made all these dignified and battle hardened immortal beings scatter like young hobbits pillaging Farmer Maggot’s grounds.

Glorfindel spoke and his voice was definitely trembling, goodness what could this be about? ‘Which- which parents would these be Lord Elrond?’

Elrond didn’t look up as if he hadn’t noticed the panic he’d unleashed and twirled his bookmark about his fingers while replying absentmindedly. ‘Hmmm? Oh, well I really didn’t want to start off on a note of picking some over the others after so many millennia apart so I thought it best to meet them together, clear the air and all that rather than leave things fester. I’m quite done with letting things go unspoken you know.’

‘You what.’ The Balrog Slayer trembled and shook, he who had laughed in the face of the Nazgûl.

‘What in all the lands of Arda could have possessed you to- Elrond! Are you trying to get us all killed?!’

‘Oh, peace Glorfindel, my family aren’t going to kill each other or you.’

‘Elrond your families killing each other is how you got one of them! Which is still severely fucked up by the way and so ridiculously unhealthy I don’t even know what to do with it.’

Elrond huffed at Glorfindel’s hysterics, ‘Honestly, it’s fine. It’s just dinner. They’re hardly going to sour their first meeting with me since before the destruction of Beleriand just to be petty.’

Bilbo privately thought that there was very little certain family members wouldn’t do to be petty, especially where ill advised family dinners were concerned. Tonight should be entertaining at least. He wondered if the elves, with the wisdom of many ages would be able to restrain themselves.

Glorfindel sighed and leaned forward onto his hand muttering something that, despite Bilbo’s incomplete fluency in the language, sounded suspiciously like swearing. ‘Well I suppose there’s nothing we can do now except send as many to safety as we can spare and pray to every Valar we can think of.’

‘And hide the breakables,’ Elrond chimes in lightly seemingly unperturbed by the very dangerous individual who was looking gradually more and more murderous. ‘Naneth used to throw things at the wall after receiving letters from Atya. Best hide any weaponry as well. Maybe serve something that doesn’t require sharp cutlery?’

Glorfindel inhaled slowly several times while staring down his significantly younger lord. ‘I hope you know Elrond, that the only reason I am not throttling you right now is that I do not want to upset the Lady Idril by causing injury to her only grandchild. She terrifies me, perhaps more than you and your parents but it is a fine fucking line.’

As Glorfindel headed out to try and pull the house into some semblance of readiness for the seeming impending disaster Elrond lifted his gaze from his novel and stared out at the rolling ocean before him. While only moments ago he had seemed light and teasing, as if he were secretly aware of and enjoying the turmoil he’d caused, something Bilbo had become more and more accustomed to seeing from him since their arrival on these shores, now he appeared every inch of his years, an ages long loss lined in those bright eyes and a trace of hesitance that was even more alarming.

 ‘Are you quite alright lad?’ Elrond’s mouth moved into familiar expression of amusement at being referred to as such by one so many times his younger and that was something at least though his eyes didn’t change.

 ‘Everything’s alright, it’s only just- well it’s been so long Bilbo. I know coming from me that may sound unusual to you, but I’m talking about things that happened in the First Age of the world, in Beleriand for goodness sake, that entire continent hasn’t existed for over seven millennia. So it’s just hard- I’ve spent so long imagining this day and I truly have no idea how it will go. It’s been so long since I’ve had parents and now- I might finally get that connection again but what if it fails? They haven’t seen me since I was a child, some of them anyway, what if they don’t like the person I am now?’

 ‘Any parent would be proud of having someone like you for a child, Elrond. I’m sure it will go splendidly, why they must have missed you dreadfully, I can’t imagine being separate from Frodo for so long.’ He was touched deeply by this elven lord opening up to him about such worries and resolved to try his best to make tonight go without a hitch. Glorfindel must have surely be overreacting after all, it couldn’t be that hard, could it, to prevent a few people (he was admittedly still unclear on the circumstances that led to Elrond’s parents being referred to as seemingly distinct groups) coming to blows at a reunion with their son?

[ghostking4m]

Rejection Is Just Redirection

Luke Hughes x reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen, you didn’t really need college. You broke into the entertainment industry at 16, so college was just a plan b you put on the back burner. Being one of the most famous names and faces in the entire world, you easily had enough money to afford college, so why not give it a shot? After all, your boyfriend went to college, though he did kind of drop out to play hockey.

Once you made up your mind that you’d be going back to school, your next step what choosing your major and what schools to apply to. You write songs and sometimes write poems and books, so maybe English or journalism? Maybe Communications would help you answer some of the dodgy questions the paparazzi ask you. Heck, even political science or economics or business would be a good idea. They would allow you to make a difference in the world. Business sounds like a safe choice. You could do a lot with a business degree. Now to apply to schools.

So here’s the thing, you’re finally in a real relationship that you really don’t want to mess up. Staying in LA would allow you to go to school and continue working, so you could still be in the limelight when you want to be. USC and UCLA would be great choices for that and they’re extremely accredited schools. However, maybe Rutgers is the school you should choose, since it’s close to Luke. NYU might even be an interesting choice since it wouldn’t raise too many questions if you’re going to school in the city because you want to or if it’s because you want to be closer to your boyfriend. It has always been your dream school when you were a kid. Well, it’s decided then!

You honestly weren’t expecting the application and admissions process to be so complicated and grueling. It’s like the education system is trying to torture kids to see who would come out on top as the victor. College really is like the Hunger Games, isn’t it? You hadn’t the slightest idea of how to fill out your major requirement classes or send your high school transcript to the admissions office and your essays were mid at best. You’re a celebrity, it’s not like you needed to try all that hard to graduate high school since you did homeschooling since you were 16. Though, you gotta admit that the feeling of finally being done with the application process was a relief. It’s just a waiting game now for admissions decisions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“T-minus 2 hours until decisions come out. You nervous?” Luke asked as you guys were laying on the couch before he had to go to practice.

“A little, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t get in. I mean, i’ve already got my career, so why would I worry about getting in so that I could work more to get a degree that would allow me to work even more? Why did i do this again?” you questioned back, joking with him. “If I don’t get in, I’ll just grab my bag and go back to LA and star in the highest grossing movie of the decade… again”

Luke laughed at your comment, despite hearing the quiet hesitation in your voice. He didn’t realize how much you actually wanted to get in. He didn’t know how much you wanted to prove that you’re more than just some face in gossip magazines or the most talked about name in the headlines. You wanted to be seen and treated like a person, someone who people respected because you worked just as hard as they did to get to the same place as them. You always advocated for equality for everyone and yet people always worshipped you and put you on a pedestal.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he countered.

“I’m not sure yet. Part of me regrets applying, because I don’t want to get in for nepotism or for being famous, but I also want to get in, because I want to make everyone proud of me.” You replied.

It broke Luke’s heart a little to hear you talk about this in the way you are, because how could anyone not be proud of you and what you accomplished at such a young age? You had 6 Oscars, 4 Emmys, the most nominations at the Grammy’s this year, and you were named the most powerful person of the year by Time Magazine, Forbes Magazine, AND Vogue. You were a sensation that was still only just beginning. You had the entire world eating in the lam of your hand.

“Well, no matter what happens, I’m proud of you for trying. You don’t need college, but I applaud your efforts anyway. You could honestly be anything you want, be anyone you want, all you have to do is try and not everyone can do that.” He said, and his heart absolutely MELTED at the tiny smile you tried to hide by hiding your face further in his chest.

He heard you mumble the most adorable, embarrassed “Thanks” from his chest and he couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s not think about it for a while, please?” you asked, politely.

“Ok. We can just rewatch the movie where you play a real life version of one of the most famous dolls in the world.” He says, purposefully teasing you!!

“Oh God.” You laughed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You held your breath as you opened the email concealing your admissions decisions. It felt as if the world was telling everyone to be quiet and listen.

“I got it.” You whispered as quietly as possible.

“You got in?!” Luke shouted, jumping nearly 7 feet high as he got up to look at you.

“No. I got the email that says if I got in or not.” You answered.

“Oh. Sorry for freaking out.” He looks away, slightly embarrassed. You give him a small look and smile full of adoration before turning back to your phone.

“Here goes nothing.” You say as you click on the email. “What? I don’t get it? Oh! I have to log into the admissions portal in order to see the decision.”

You click on the portal login link and enter your login id username and password, fingers slightly trembling with anticipation. Hesitantly, you click on the link that states “An update has been made about your decision.”

Taking a deep breath, you read a letter that says:

“Dear Y/n, Thank you for applying to New York University. We are humbled by the overwhelming interest in attending NYU and the outstanding quality of the applications we received this year. After careful consideration and thorough examination, it is with regret we must inform you were are unable to offer you admission for the Fall 2024 semester.”

“I didn’t get in.” You confessed barely loud enough for a mouse to hear.

Instantly, Luke had his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, fiercely protective. You were so disappointed that you weren’t even crying, almost as if you were expecting to be rejected.

“Whatever. Fuck them anyway. They didn’t deserve you to begin with. You belong somewhere like UMich or in an Ivy League school. You’re too good for them.” He tries to reassure you. “Look at it this way, you can continue doing what you love most and stay here with me. In the end, you learned something.”

“And what’s that?” you questioned him.

“Rejection is just redirection, that’s all. College wasn’t in the cards for you and life thinks you’re better off in the spotlight, making more money in a single year than those lousy admissions officers make in their entire lives. You were meant to be somebody great. You ARE somebody great and you’re becoming somebody even more perfect than I ever thought possible.”

His words struck a chord in your heart so deeply that you couldn’t help but hold on to him for dear life. You felt your eyes begin to prick with tears. As the first one fell out of your right eye, you knew automatically that they were tears of joy. Your heart swelled with pride and love for Luke as you laughed into his chest.

“Yeah. Fuck them. I don’t need them. I’m a star! You’re all I need.” You teased back. Deep down, you were incredibly disappointed, but Luke’s words of affirmation and love meant more to you than the rejection letter did. Nothing could beat that.

“That’s right, baby.” He laughed as he tighten his grip over you. He gently kissed the top of your head and repeated quiet “I love you’s” for at least 10 minutes.

“What time is it?” You asked.

“It’s…5:30.” He responded gently leaning over to turn on his phone to check. “Oh Shit! I’m gonna be late!”

“Go! Go! Go!” You laughed at him.

God, this boy. You thought, shaking your head. That’s MY boy.

[kingdom-by-the-sea]

The Not Valentine’s Date

Summary- Mutual pining, an office bet, and baby sitting make for an interesting Valentine’s Day between Spencer and Hotch’s daughter.

Warnings- fluffy fluff

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Hotch’s daughter

Word Count- 2.7k

A/N- This is something I randomly wrote last year after Valentine’s Day but didn’t post cause I felt like I had missed my window. Who knows maybe I’ll write something later this week that I’ll post in a year.

—————-

“Eww,” Emily complained, scrunching up her face in disgust, “Please tell me that none of those lines actually work on real life girls. I don’t understand why guys had to start going around saying stuff like that and ruin Valentine’s day for the rest of us.”

”Woah,” Prentiss stopped Reid mid-explaining, “You are not actually referring to that,” she gestured vaguely in Morgan’s direction, “as poetry.”

Spencer scrunched his face in consideration, “Not in the traditional sense, I suppose. However, in my opinion, some of the best lines of poetry about love have nothing to do with Valentine’s day so using it as the standard might not properly reflect what you’re looking for.”

“Oh really,” Morgan questioned, “And what exactly would you use to woo the ladies on the fourteenth?”

Reid considered the question seriously his fingers tapping to some indiscernible beat as he thought, “‘We loved with a love that was more than love.’”

“What?” Morgan’s reaction was quick and it seemed that everyone else in the group mirrored his sentiment, “Hate to break it to you, pretty boy, but no girl you mention that to is going to have a clue-”

“You quote a man who married his thirteen year-old cousin on love?” Y/N asked suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention.

“They really are a match made in heaven…” Prentiss muttered only loud enough for Morgan to hear, who responded with a chuckle.

Reid’s face darkened several shades of red, “I just mean-”

“It’s fine,” Y/N let out a small laugh, “I’m just teasing. Annabel Lee’s probably my favorite poem. Just sucks that most of the romanticism poets were… just really weird.”

Spencer regained his composure and released an unexpected laugh, “Yeah.”

“Anyone want more coffee, I’m going to get another cup,” Y/N stood and left for the kitchenette after finding there weren’t any takers.

“So close and yet… so far,” Prentiss said once Y/N was out of earshot.

“Seriously, man,” Morgan started, “Just ask her to go to dinner or something already.”

Reid rolled his eyes, “Is this about your bet pool thing again?”

“Not anymore,” Morgan said, “I’ve been out since last month. Somehow I thought New Years would do the trick.”

Prentiss laughed, “You’re doing way better than me. I really thought the hormones would outweigh this nerdy stupidity,” she gestured at Reid’s face, “and said Halloween.”

“Halloween?!” Reid squeaked out before lowering his voice significantly, “There is no way you thought Y/N and I would get together by Halloween of last year.”

The two agents dutifully ignored him and Morgan continued, “Who’s even left at this point? I know Rossi chose St. Patrick’s day for whatever reason.”

“And Hotch said Valentine’s,” Prentiss finished and any air of concern left Reid’s face.

“Well now I know you’re making this up,” he turned back to his work, “There is no way Hotch would bet on his daughter’s love life.”

Prentiss tsked, “Your future father-in-law is going to be very disappointed if you miss this benchmark.”

“Seriously though,” Morgan started again, “Just ask her to hang out. Don’t even call it a date.”

“We hang out all the time though…” Spencer whispered, fiddling with his tie.

“Then it shouldn’t be that big of a deal,” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, “Go get her, lover boy.”

Reluctantly, Reid rose from his seat and made his way to the kitchenette. Y/N was busy filling up her mug with the right amount of sugar- that is as much as can fit in the cup- but smiled when she noticed him.

“Did you change your mind? I can grab another mug.”

“What? Oh- no, I’m good,” he glanced over at her searching for the right words, “I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out on Monday…?”

Y/N’s face lit up at the thought before she scrunched up her nose, “I’d love to but I can’t. I’m actually watching Jack so my dad can go out but maybe this weekend?”

She returned to stirring her coffee not noticing the third person entering the vicinity.

“Or Reid could come over and help you with Jack?” Hotch said, forcing them both to turn suddenly in his direction.

“Oh no,” Y/N began, “You don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you to waste your Valentine’s Day.”

“No, no. That sounds great,” Spencer smiled at her and her heart seemed to warm as she mirrored his reaction, “Send me the times over the weekend.”

With that Reid walked back to his desk in semi-victory.

“Did Reid just ask you to hangout with him on Valentine’s Day?” Hotch asked with a mock accusatory glance.

“Yeah,” Y/N said absentmindedly, “I mean no- I mean he did but it's not like that. We are just two single adults who enjoy each other’s company and not having to feel lonely on a day devoted to love.”

“Y/N, what exactly do you call it when two single adults meet up on Valentine’s Day to ‘enjoy each other’s company?’” he could barely manage to suppress the smile growing on his face at the teasing.

Her face turned pink, “I’m not sure- but apparently you call it babysitting.”

~~~

As the evening waned on, Y/N was more and more glad for Spencer’s company. Outside of simply enjoying his presence, it helped to have a second person there to reign in some of Jack’s more energetic behavior. However, her appreciation wasn’t enough to keep her from noticing how her heartstrings tugged seeing the way Jack and Spencer both lit each other up with excitement. Spencer was beyond engaging and Y/N finally understood why Henry always seemed to immediately latch onto Spencer at BAU gatherings. It was intoxicating to watch them together and Y/N easily could have lost herself in the moment if it weren’t for the screaming six-year-old running around the house constantly threatening to knock things over. Luckily for Reid, Y/N, and their respective sanities, this level of energy wasn’t sustainable and an eventual crash was inevitable.

He nodded lazily in response, “Can we watch Encanto?” for a brief moment the sparks returned behind his eyes as he mentioned what was quickly becoming his new favorite movie.

“Sure,” Y/N said with a small laugh. This would have to be close to the twentieth time she had seen the movie but for Jack’s sake, it was all worth it.

Jack headed for the stairs and Spencer was quick to follow after him.

“I’ll help him get ready for bed,” he explained, noticing what was apparently a rather obvious expression of confusion and the slight tilt of her head, “You could set up the movie?”

Having your heart flutter this much had to be medically concerning, but there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it as she watched her best friend take her brother’s small hand.

“Okay,” she whispered and was met with a smile that sent her straight back into heart-fluttering territory. No matter how long she knew Spencer, he never stopped surprising her. Considering the effort and detail he put into every other aspect of his life, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he would be so attentive with her brother. And yet he still managed to strengthen his hold on her heart with every little action that came as some unexpected surprise to her. In truth, she suspected it was a precautionary measure, if she truly let herself recognize how kind and wonderful Spencer was, she’d be done for in an instant.

All the precautions in the world couldn’t have stopped the back of her mind from spinning stories about him though. Spencer was too gentle and pure to keep the less hardened parts of her soul from imagining what it all could be like if she could indulge if she could step over the line she had drawn in the sand for herself.

Upstairs, it seemed Jack had stumbled upon a small reservoir of energy, taking the time to show Spencer his favorite toys and stuffed animals while Spencer attempted to offer him various pajama set options. Eventually, Jack settled on the set covered with small dogs.

Spencer didn’t mind the push and pull Jack, or other children gave him. There was something so strangely fascinating to him about a mind so free from insecurity and a child’s willingness to simply say what was on their mind. Despite his extensive memory, he couldn’t remember a time he truly felt like that and hoped it was merely a result of the fog around his earliest memories. Every decision he made was coated in consideration and accounted for every possible result. He couldn’t help but wish that his hypervigilance would let up from time to time and leave him free to explore the thoughts, and emotions, that remained.

“You work with my sister,” Jack offered up less as a question and more as a statement.

“Yes, I do,” Spencer responded to the not question.

The boy’s head bobbed in as much seriousness as a six-year-old could muster, “Can you still be friends with someone if you work with them?”

Spencer watched as he stepped away from him and began absentmindedly examining the toys around his room.

“Of course,” Spencer answered, not sure where this line of question was headed, “Your sister and I are very good friends then.”

Jack’s attention swiftly returned to Spencer, “So you like her then?”

“I do like her. She’s smart and cool,” Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly on the boy, “Just like you.”

Jack came closer to him and in what he seemed to think was a hushed voice said, “Did you know that sometimes when people really like they get married…?”

“And then….” he scrunched up his face and whispered, “They make a baby.”

Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened in what Jack considered to be genuine surprise.

“I know, right?” Jack stepped away and began picking up a blanket and stuffed animal to take downstairs with him, without looking up he added, “Do you think you and Y/N will get married?”

Spencer’s mind went completely blank. None of the dozens of courses he had taken over the years would provide him with any sort of answer that would satisfy Jack. Part of him wanted to say yes and not give any of it another thought but reason quickly squashed that idea. And yet…

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to say no either. It was far too permanent and left no room for the small bead of hope he hid away in the back of his mind.

“Maybe…” he answered finally, “I don’t really know though…”

Jack pulled the blanket and toy behind him and giggled, “I hope you do!”

Spencer’s stomach did a somersault and he scooped the small boy and his blanket up into his arms before he could notice the strange smile emerging on his face. I do too.

~~~

“I swear that kid is pure energy,” Y/N said, shutting the door behind them and stepping out into the cool night with Spencer.

Y/N pointed a somewhat accusatory finger at him, “And don’t say something like ‘technically we are all energy since we’re made of mass.’’

He rolled his eyes at her with a smile, “I was going to say that while he may have been more energetic than I expected- I had fun hanging out with you guys.”

She couldn’t help the smile that immediately bubbled up to the surface of her lips, “I had fun too. I’m glad I didn’t completely waste your Valentine’s day.”

“Never,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Y/N said when they reached the end of the driveway where Spencer’s car was parked.

His eyes narrowed slightly on her, “What are you doing? How are you getting back to your apartment?”

“Oh I have an uber coming in a little bit. I”m just going to wait here until they get here.”

“You want me to leave you here on the side of the road and drive away?” he questioned.

“No,” Y/N corrected, “I want you to leave me at the end of my dad’s driveway.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Spencer said definitively, “I’ll drive you or we could go back to my apartment and watch awful romcoms and start working on the mound of candy Rossi and Garcia got us.”

She blinked at him, “Really?”

“Yeah,” his movement suddenly became awkward and choppy, “I mean you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, no,” Y/N smiled, “I’m just surprised. You spent the past five hours with me and my hyperactive brother and you want to hang out more?”

“I always want to spend time with you,” he said shyly.

“Sometimes I just forget that you’re you, Spence,” Y/N shook her head slightly and took a step closer to him.

“I hope that’s not a bad thing,” his eyes were slightly wider than usual.

“No, not at all. It’s the best thing actually,” Y/N smiled up at him, “And just so you know, I’d gladly spend every moment of every day with you.”

He looked down at her, not able to suppress the smile growing on his face.

“You know,” Spencer said, clearing his throat slightly, “Jack said something to me earlier and I didn’t know how to respond to him.”

“Oh gosh…” her voice faded into a slight chuckle.

“He was asking me all these questions about you. Like if we were friends and if I thought you were nice,” Spencer watched as Y/N glanced up at him, “I said yes to both of those… but then- then he asked if we were going to get married.”

Y/N’s lips let out a silent “oh.”

She blinked and glanced down at the ground momentarily, “What did you tell him?”

He scratched absently at the side of his head, “Well I wasn’t sure what to say so I told him maybe?”

Y/N’s face broke into a smile and near laugh, “You told him ‘maybe?’”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t know what to say. You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, no,” she let out the rest of the laugh, “I just think we should go on a date before you start promising these kinds of things to my brother.”

Spencer blinked and swallowed before looking down at the ground, “Would you have said yes if I asked you out?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile settled on her lips, “I mean of course. Don’t tell Jack but you’re kind of my favorite person in the world.”

“Really?” his eyes settled on hers.

“What? Did you think I’d say no?” Y/N asked with genuine concern.

“I don’t know I just thought that it would make things difficult since we work together and-”

“Spence, hey, hey, stop it!” she said with a slight laugh.

A beat passed where she just looked at him.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Y/N smiled, “I just want to remember the moment right before I kiss you.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly.

“Is that okay?”

He nodded not sure if she was referring to the moment or the kiss but it didn’t matter either way. She smiled up at him again, looking into his eyes and her hands moved up till they met behind his neck. After inhaling slightly, Y/N perched on her toes and gently pulled Spencer’s face down until their lips met each other.

[irisbleufic]

Of all the current Devil’s Minion writers your playlist is the one I want to see. Do you have one? If not, are there particular songs you’ve been listening into to while you write? The vibe of your prose with them is hypnotizing like the short story about them in the books, it’s impressive, and does your music also inform this choice if at all?

Intense question, anon. Fourteen-year-old me fucking hyperventilated after reading the DM chapter in Queen of the Damned (me, on the floor of my bedroom at 3am because I don’t want to get caught reading this book, staring dazed at the ceiling; me, now, three weeks ago, sitting shellshocked on the sofa after watching S1 and S2 over two days as a binge; me, over two of those weeks following the binge, rereading the first half of the Chronicles and starting to see double, tilt the prism, see what happens when the narratives are overlaid and blurred), and it still feels like that. Likely my prose turning out the way it is in these stories is about 90% my giddy teenage self having access to my adult self’s writing experience to finally write this beloved pairing without fear of litigious letters (IYKYK, my fellow elder Millennials in the fandom). I don’t often love film and TV adaptations of my favorite books, but I adore this show. It’s flawlessly transformative; its improvements only make the resonances and overlaps that much more meaningful. No notes.

However, I have been listening to the same small handful of songs on repeat for 6 days as I write these pieces. I imagine they are affecting my sense of scansion at points; my writing life didn’t begin with fiction, it began with years of poetry before I ever tried prose. These tracks are as meaningful to me as poems as they are songs. It’s as good a starting point for a playlist as any; I’ll keep adding and put it together on Spotify at some point.

1. Vesuvius - Sufjan Stevens

Vesuvius, I am here

You are all I have

Fire of fire, I'm insecure

for it is all been made to plan

Though I know I will fail

I cannot be made to laugh

for in life as in death

I'd rather be burned

than be living in debt

This song was my entire first 72 hours of writing. I’m that Autistic weirdo who will listen to a single song on repeat for a month and think nothing of it. Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii being the nexus point of their love story from beginning to end in QotD, this is everything to me; I was never going to be able to write about the show incarnation of them without integrating this location and this imagery in the most reverent love letter I know how. This is why my series title for these stories is Caldera. Volcanic crater blowout if ever I saw one; I ran with it.

2. I Forget Where We Were - Ben Howard

Hello love, my invincible friend; hello, love, the thistle and the burr. For you, I have so many words—and I, I forget where we were. I haven’t known this song for all that long in the grand scheme, but it found me via Spotify shuffle in 2022 right after something awful happened. The longing in this song hinges on one of the lovers in it waking up to something they’ve forgotten about their relationship, something precious, and I’m thrilled to finally have a fandom application for it.

3. Make You Better - The Decemberists

I sung you your twinges

I suffered you your tattle-tales

and when you broke sideways

I wanted you, I needed you, oh

to make me better

Oh, to make me better

But we're not so starry-eyed anymore

like the perfect paramour you were in your letters

And won't it all just come around to make you

let it all un-break you to the day that you met her

No excuse for this one; it does a great job of speaking for itself. Front-man Colin Meloy is one of my all-time favorite songwriters, and his work is frequently dark, creepy, and/or gothic enough in flavor that I could find a few more.

4. Song to the Siren - Elisabeth Fraser & This Mortal Coil

On the floating shipless oceans

I did all my best to smile

till your singing eyes and fingers

drew me loving to your isle

and you sang, “Sail to me,

sail to me, let me enfold you—

here I am, here I am,

waiting to hold you.”

This cover of Tim Buckley’s folk masterpiece completely transforms the vibe of the song, and in the kind of way you need for this pairing. This one is at responsible for the events and imagery in my “Still Life with Sunken Treasure.”

5. Hal - Yasmine Hamdan, Only Lovers Left Alive OST

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اطلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي شرّفي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وطلعت يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اتريحي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتلحلحي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وسمعت يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اتفرفشي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي قربي

لأ ما أقدرشي

فرشنا يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اقلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتجرأي

لأ مش ممكن

شلحنا يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اتغندريله

يا حبيبتي اتذوقيله

افهمي يا سيدي مش قادرة

وطبعا تقنعني مش واخدة

ايه يا عزيزة؟

ايه اللي إنتي عملاه ده؟

يا يا يا راجل يا هوه!

مش عيب عليك اختشي ونو

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اخلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتشخلعي

لأ مش ممكن

يا خيبتي يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اتبغددي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي جربي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وجينا يا ناس، غلبنا يا ناس

جينا يا ناس، غلبنا يا ناس

I don’t think the Arabic justified to the correct side when I copied this, but the translation is very easy to find. I don’t speak Arabic, but honestly the English translation is dull compared to the beauty of this language. If you haven’t watched Only Lovers Left Alive, what the hell are you even doing with your vampire-loving, monster-fucking life? All the tracks on it have the right vibe for DM, really.

[quibbs126]

Heya! Can you do Dark Choco Cookie and Cotton Cookie child?

So I originally misread Cotton as Cotton Candy (especially since not everyone includes the Cookie part of the name), and I’m not doing Dark Choco/Cotton, so Dark Choco/Cotton Candy it is

Anyways, this is Bubble Choco Cookie

So Bubble Choco here is somewhere in his teens, and he’s an avid poet. However he does not want anyone to read his poems, and will make sure you don’t touch his poetry journal. They’re mostly edgy or sad and they aren’t the best, but it’s how he expresses himself. He’ll just pull out his journal and pencil at random times and start writing

When he was younger, he used to be a lot more cheerful and bubbly, but as he entered his teen years, he started to act more rebellious and “dark”. He never quite gave up his fashion sense though, with his main changes just being that he wears some darker shades

He is also very fond of chocolate, specifically the aerated kind

Okay I’m gonna be honest, I don’t have much for him other than the poet angle. I just kind of decided to finally start drawing him

I also recognize that he has very little of Dark Choco in his character, as well as design, but that’s in part because of the way I envisioned this ship. For one thing, it’s in Ovenbreak so no Dark Cacao Kingdom here, Dark Choco probably just lives with Cotton Candy, and also, it’s a wholesome ship, their kid doesn’t need that much angst. And he’s a poet instead of a fighter, and if he doesn’t want to fight, I don’t see any reason for Dark Choco to teach him; Cotton Candy doesn’t seem to live in an area that requires much sword fighting or the like

Anyways, on to design stuff

So Bubble Choco is based on aerated chocolate, since it’s like a really light chocolate, and cotton candy is also light (I’m talking weight btw). Also, I’ve eaten this kind of chocolate before (I quite enjoy Aero bars), and I quite like it

I think another name I was considering was Air Choco, since it’s closer to the actual name of the ingredient, but Bubble Choco works better as a name

Aerated chocolate:

So as I said earlier, I kind of made him for the sake of making him and doing more of these, so there wasn’t a super big amount of thought out into him. I do still like how he turned out though

All I really had to go on initially was the poet angle (I didn’t even reread my old notes), and I wasn’t really sure where to go with his personality until I started tweaking his expression. He was also originally going to be a girl but somewhere in development I decided “eh, why not have him be a boy?” and there you have it

I also knew I wanted him to have black poofy hair with things in it. It was originally more of a curved line in between the ends, but I changed it when I looked at Cotton Candy’s hair more. Though I kind of wish I had kept it now. There was also an old concept I mad ages ago that also had that hair, but it was longer. Don’t know why it’s this current length

After doing the hair, I wasn’t really sure what to do with the outfit, and I kind of just made something up as I went. He’s got the poofy ends of his jacket because of the whole “bubble” thing. I wanted to give him more poofy stuff

His colors are brown and light green become the Aero bars I usually see are regular chocolate (brown) and mint (light green). The pink was added to there’d be a little more color variation

As for the thing in his eye, it’s because of Cotton Candy’s heart eyes and me liking to put stuff in the eyes in place of that. Bubble Choco’s eye thing is supposed to be a sort of reference to Dark Choco with his star, though I didn’t bother to curve it out. And as I realize now, the eye I chose is also his missing eye and the star eye of the SoD. I’d like to claim that was intentional, but it wasn’t

And anyways yeah, there you have it. Bubble Choco. Don’t really have much else to say other than I hope you enjoyed him

[kurosaaki]

domestic hcs with ellie. w <3

DOMESTIC ELLIE HEADCANONS

WARNINGS: none. just pure fluff overload.

A/N: i’m a big softie for her. i loved writing these hcs sm!! ^^

believe it or not, ellie is the best partner you could have to live with. she is the perfect girlfriend to share a home with for obvious reasons.

you both never fight. ellie’s the kind of person who can’t go to bed without solving with you the problems you may have had during the day. however, those problems are usually insignificant and with ellie by your side they will never become more serious than they are, since she’s always willing to listen and solve them.

she’s absolutely the type of girlfriend who likes to leave little notes around the house for when you wake up and she’s not at home. it can be one or multiple with sweet messages or just random things.

you can find one on your bedside table saying “good morning babe hope you slept well <3” and think: “oh. so sweet” and then find one at the fridge saying “THERE ARE NO EGGS PLS GO GRAB SOME OR I’LL DIE” and think: “yeah that’s something she would say”.

she likes to do the chores with you. if she was living alone she would get very annoyed at the fact that she has to do everything alone, but since you’re both living together, it becomes something fun to do. she likes to do the laundry with you and she loves to clean the house with you while you both dance and sing like you’re in a band.

MOVIE NIGHTS!!! it’s probably her favorite night of the week. she LOVES to explain the entire plot of the movie for the 15th time to you and she’ll get super excited abt it (her eyes always light up when you ask her the most random questions about it. she’s so cute). also, be damn sure she will bring out the coziest blankets and wrap you like a burrito while watching the movie. you’re not going anywhere :)

you’ll have to put up with her obsessions. as i said before, she gets super excited when she explains something to you so you’ll basically have a raging fangirl in your house, too. and she’ll make you obsess over it too. so it’s a win-win situation!

ellie is a very intimate person, she shows love the best through her actions and spending time with you whenever she’s able to.

and she loves showering with you. it’s a time when you can both be naturally free and relax after a long day. there’s just something about the way she can hold you, skin to skin, feeling your body warmth along with the water as it washes you both. it can even make her emotional, just the fact that she gets to be with you in such an intimate moment makes her so happy.

she’ll get mad at you if you shower without her.

“did you shower?” “yeah, why?” “we could’ve saved water by showering together, y’know? “yeah! we can shower together next time” “>:(“

she hums a lot. in the shower, doing the dishes, doing the laundry, while drawing…she’s usually humming something. hearing her soothing voice sing quietly while she’s doing random things is actually so cute!

you’ll find her playing the guitar occasionally. sometimes she’ll even sing to you with her beautiful voice. hearing her voice along with the melody relaxes you a lot, it brings you (and her) a little peace in a world where it’s hard to find it.

BACK MASSAGE LOVER!! she loves it when you give her a back massage after a hard day training or outside on patrol. literally she melts under your hands. and she will return you the favor, too! if you’re ever feeling sore she’ll be always willing to treat you like royalty.

she actually loves to draw you. and she does it a lot. she’s in love with you so you’re automatically her muse, and she’ll beg to draw you a hundred times.

when she can’t sleep, she usually grabs her diary and draws you sleeping, along with a little poem about how in love she’s with you and how infatuated she is with every part of you.

she likes to give you nicknames, and she usually calls you babe, bug or love but that’s just when she’s feeling super romantic ;)

loves to take you by surprise and hug you from behind whenever you’re distracted doing the chores or just simply existing.

you: *existing* ellie: 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️LEMME GIVE YOU A HUG RN

when she sleeps, she often involuntarily presses you against her. When she feels that you have moved too far away from her, her instinct is to hug you and draw you closer to her. it’s just one of those cute little things about her that makes you fall in love with her even more.

she’s actually a very cuddly person, she loves to be close to you when sleeping or just relaxing. she’s a sucker for physical contact!

i also think that once in a while, when you’re both just cuddling together, she’ll talk with you with a baby voice. she always says she does it because it sounds funny and she hates to talk with that voice…(yeah we don’t believe her. she likes to be babied too).

“you so pwetty” “what?” “my pwetty girl” “ellie? what’s up with the voice?” “huh? nothing. it’s funny”

she’ll randomly have love bursts where she just can’t control herself and she’ll grab your face and pepper it with kisses, hugging tightly (almost suffocating you), rubbing her cheek against your face while saying how much she adores you.

she’s basically the best girlfriend you could ask for :’)

[averageallogene]

During the banquet at this year's Lantern Rite, Zhongli lets it slip that he's married.

Cue astonished exclaims, shocked gasps and incessant questioning.

After the banquet, Xiao wonders out-loud if he should call Adapti!You 'mom'.

Xiao ☆⊹˚ Mortal customs (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; fluff. Zhongli x reader is a thing. Traveler’s gender is not specified so the reader can imagine either Lumine or Aether!

2k words.

notes. Sorry for the wait there! It’s been a rough couple of days but now I’m back, even if still under the weather.... I had a lot of fun writing this one up though. Xiao deserves the absolute best and this idea lets me channel just that  even if by a small portion <3.

The current situation inside the chosen restaurant had Xiao questioning why he’d agreed on attending. Despite both Rex L- Ahem, Zhongli and the traveler attending, he still found himself rather tense with all the other unknown presences surrounding him. The adeptus simply couldn’t understand the ways of mortal interactions, for making small talk wasn’t exactly the forté of a soldier like himself. His golden eyes would, more often than not, not wander far from the plated food before him, wondering if he should even try anything. His mind raced wildly, trying his hardest to think if what he was doing would be deemed inappropriate - after all, he’d been invited to attend the dinner, surely eating the food would be a sign of appreciation. Yet, not accustomed to anything other than almond tofu, he found himself hesitating. 

Why was Xiao trying so hard? Well, he found himself curious about trying to approach the ways of mortal living in his exiled instance. The yaksha was rather short-tempered when it came to understanding something so foreign and so mundanely complex as that to him, yet for Zhonlgi to seemingly seem so… Happy, so free as he lived as a mortal, surely there were a few benefits he was misunderstanding. And to tackle the topic, it eased him the reality that to his side sat the traveler, a companion he’d grown to cherish through the time they had spent together. Xiao wasn’t one to voice his thoughts a lot, but he hoped his thankfulness for the patience shown to him was known. 

He’d winced quietly upon the sudden arrival of the bard, his face gleefully smiling as he was properly introduced to the Funeral Consultant. He couldn’t even look, his chest bubbling with the unknown emotion that many would explain as second hand embarrassment as the two archons attempted to act civil to the other attendees. The young man dressed in green, Venti, was quick to showcase his lyre as he joined them in their feast, him and the organizer of the dinner discussing poetry as the other mortals joined in on the topic. In his seat, he could only pick at his food as the traveler engaged in small talk with him, inquiring if there was anything else he’d like to try that was at the table.

Xiao could only remain semi interested in the ongoing conversation, unintentionally letting his mind wander to his own duties as his ears focused in and out of what the others spoke of. In fact, the only times he’d fully focus were whenever Zhongli had something to share with their table, his gaze finally lifting to eye him directly before once more shying away to any other corner of the room. He couldn’t exactly help himself, his respect for the man surpassed his otherwise shut off personality. Well, it wasn’t as though anyone could question it, anyway. Most were either too focused on the interesting conversation Venti had with Zhongli, or deeply respected the Consultant in their own way that the idea of focusing on anything he had to say wasn’t considered an odd response. 

However, out of every intriguing fact he’d shared with them that night, one seemed to catch everyone off guard.

“Xingqiu, that poem you’ve just recited is most intriguing. In which book did you read it, again? My wife would absolutely enjoy such fine literature.”

The table seemingly froze still, everyone taking a long moment to try and process what they’d just heard. Whilst Xingqiu, Chongyun and Xiangling seemed mostly receptive to such a concept, the rest of the table’s reactions made them question such mundanity. Hu Tao was still up from her seat, her gaze locked to the back of the head of her Consultant as she processed the news and beyond. The traveler gazed at Xiao slowly, watching as the adeptus himself seemed taken aback to such news. Paimon appeared to freeze mid air, for once not saying anything as her eyes squinted at the idea of a married Zhongli. Venti, on the other hand, couldn’t help the way his eyebrows raised, a sly smile making its way to his face as he finally broke the silence.

“Ho ho? So mister Zhongli has a wife? Well isn’t that the most wonderful news! Certainly something that this bard couldn’t have predicted, that’s for sure.” He chuckled in the end there, serving his own cup with more wine as Zhongli quietly took a sip of his tea.

“Mhm… Is that so?” He responded, his tone calm as if he hadn’t just dropped a meteor of information on everyone. 

“My my, Zhongli! Why didn’t you tell me so earlier?” Hu Tao gasped, utterly flabbergasted as pieces of the puzzle began to connect inside her brain. “So that is why there was a ring invoice brought directly to the parlor that one time!”

 “I thought I had explained myself regarding it, Director?” The man inquired ever so calmly, contrasting wildly with the way his superior gesticulated wildly.

“Simply explaining it to be an heirloom definitely isn’t enough to fully capture the picture!” She retorted.

“But it is precisely that. It’s intended to become an heirloom for years to come.”

“Ooooh Mister Zhongli, you’re quite the romantic!” The bard proclaimed, leaning forward on the table as he rested his chin on his hand. “Well, who is this lovely wife of yours anyway? You can’t just leave it at that, you know!”

“Yes, I do have to agree with our friend here.” Hu Tao mused, hands on her hips as she gave him a side eye. “I wish to know why this wasn’t brought to table prior to me booking our seats, for had I known you had a wife, I would’ve invited her as well, of course!”

“I wasn’t aware this was such a grand deal, my apologies.” Zhongli defended himself, serving himself more tea as he cleared his throat. “My wife, [F/N], just has a lot on her plate and said she couldn’t possibly attend tonight. So, I left it at that. Oh, but since we’re on the topic, she voiced her wishes for everyone to have a wonderful Lantern Rite.”

“Ah, but you’re saying that now?” The Funeral Director sighed, arms crossing as she shook her head. “Aiya, Zhongli. How could you not mention something as important as this before?”

“... ‘As important’?...” Xiao had murmured to himself, his gaze lowering as he attempted to still fully understand the situation. No one but the traveler had heard his voice, the gears in his head practically being envisioned as he tried to once more grasp something that differed to a grand degree between mortals and adepti. 

“Everything alright, Xiao?” The traveler had asked, gaze twisting with slight worry as a small smile graced their lips. 

“Uh, yes, you needn't worry.” He cleared his throat, though his eyes betrayed the rest of his body. 

Between the ruckus of Zhongli being thoroughly questioned about his married life, the two could quietly chat for a brief moment, Xiao being able to have his doubt clarified as the traveler had grown quite good at reading his troubles.

“I too was surprised at the news,” They’d explained with a quick laugh, before inquiring Xiao. “Is it because it’s out of the norm for adepti to marry?”

“N-No, it’s not that,” He responded in a quick breath, his sharp eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought of the few adepti he’d known to find a spouse. “I suppose it’s just that… I don’t understand how it can be the cause of such a ruckus. Even if I myself am surprised.”

“Oh, I see,” They nodded their head with an understanding hum, quickly deciphering what he really meant. To the traveler, it would’ve seemed that the way adepti viewed marriage was as something more natural and perhaps rational, as opposed to the grand reactions humans would typically have whenever one announced they were married. “Well, I think it boils down to how human life is far shorter than that of an adeptus, so every opportunity of celebration is cause for a grand reaction. You can rest assured they’re just happy for Zhongli, though.”

“I see… I suppose that makes sense.” He’d nodded his head quickly before stealing a quick glance to Zhongli, watching as he attempted to respond to every question thrown his way. 

How they had met, how it had developed, who proposed and when… The consultant responded to every inquiry with patience and fondness, and Xiao almost felt guilty for never truly realizing Zhongli had found someone special. Even worse, strangely now he felt… Curious, to meet this woman. Would she be a mere mortal, or perhaps someone of adeptal blood? Either way, for Zhongli to have chosen her, she had to be someone of exceptional grace and excellence, someone that deserved his utter respect no matter what else. It was as though he’d already made his mind up, now only having to have the courage to ask if he could meet her. 

“Say, if I plan another dinner in the future, will you introduce her to us?” Hu Tao had seemingly read his thoughts, smiling with expectancy as everyone eyed Zhongli for his response.

“I see no reason not to. She would surely love to meet you all.” He responded without much thought, the corners of his lips raising into a small, warm smile. “You’ll all see, [F/N] is a wonderful woman with the most radiant soul. I’m most lucky to have her as my beautiful wife. Ah, perhaps I can ask if she’d be willing to share her own poetry with you. She underestimates her choice of words too often, yet I’ve never before listened to such fine-”

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Hu Tao cut him short, smiling with humor to watch her Consultant with such hearts in his eyes. “We would definitely love to meet her, as well.”

“Please do not forget to invite me when that dinner does occur! I’ll ask our lovely traveler to ensure the date reaches me, lest I be forgotten.” Venti winked playfully, turning to Zhongli with humor. “I would not want to miss meeting such a beloved person of mister Zhongli after all.”

“Right… Of course.” It was the Consultant’s turn to murmur with slight hesitancy, yet he still sighed softly and let it be. Even with someone as brazen as the bard present, he’d like to introduce his beloved [F/N] to all the others. He’d ensure no boundaries were ever crossed, of course.

And just like that, the dinner ended with everyone still pressing Zhongli to ensure his wife attended the next gathering Hu Tao prepared. They nearly made the man sign a contract for it, his superior joking about it before finally allowing everyone to leave. He could breathe easy upon reaching the cool air outside, eyes gazing ahead as he found solace in the night sounds of Liyue Harbor. All he had to do now was to get back to his humble abode, waiting for his [F/N] to return before they could retire for the evening. His daydreaming was cut short as the traveler bid them goodnight, waving politely as he watched them disappear with Paimon into the distance. Before long, all that was left were him and Xiao, and knowing the young man as well as he did, Zhongli knew there was something he wished to inquire if he had remained around. 

“How have you been faring, Xiao?” He had politely asked, his arms resting behind his back as he eyed his pupil with a warm expression.

Xiao always felt comfortable around him. There had always been a sense of easiness around the man he couldn’t always explain, all his problems seemingly disappearing for a moment as he basked in the security Zhongli provided. Even if he was no longer an archon, Xiao always felt safe around him, like there was no evil to be purged, like there was no war inside his mind. The yaksha knew he could confide absolutely anything in the man, for there was no fear in being judged, no fear of being rejected. Yet, he respected him so much, it almost felt insulting to even confide such trivial matters. His mind jumped back and forth even after hearing Zhongli ask about his wellness, his gaze lowering for a moment as he pondered for a moment longer.

“Z-Zhongli.” He’d cleared his throat, correcting himself before he’d call him by the name he used during his active godhood. It definitely felt strange, yet with the way the man calmly hummed for him to continue, he figured he had the approval to continue. “I wanted to ask for something, if I may?”

“But of course. What’s on your mind?” He patiently asked, slightly humored. After all, Xiao had never been one to request anything. During the long time they’d been allies, he’d always been the one to read the young yaksha’s mind and figure out his wishes. It was a welcomed change of pace for him to take initiative, he had to admit.

“I was wondering if…” Xiao paused for a moment, before finding the courage to continue. “If, before this… Dinner, the Director spoke of, I could perhaps meet [F/N] by myself?”

Zhongli’s expression softened, his eyebrows raising with a hint of surprise. He couldn’t help the smile from raising to his face, finding the curiosity of the adeptus rather endearing. He let out a soft chuckle, before nodding his head prior to Xiao being able to grow hesitant of having asked such a request.

“But of course. When would it be a good time for you?”

“I… I’m not sure, i-it’ll be alright either way. I hope she doesn’t quite mind-”

“[F/N] wouldn’t ever mind, Xiao. She’s expressed interest in meeting you before.”

“Really?” He breathed out softly, a little surprised as he watched his role model nod his head.

“Indeed. I’ve spoken of you, after all.”

Xiao couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten, a feeling of flusteredness growing within himself as he simply hummed in response. He could only hope [F/N] would not only accept his presence, but also not be affected by it. After all, his karmic debt was always something that deeply worried him whenever he was to be around mortals. 

“You needn’t worry over anything, Xiao. I’m certain she will be instantly fond of you.” Zhongli placed a warm hand on his shoulder, one that radiated an easing sensation throughout his worn out body. The yaksha, who despite all the doubts swarming his mind always put his trust in Zhongli above, nodded his head upon hearing so. 

“I… I’ve heard of a few mortal customs through Verr Goldet…” He mumbled quietly, more so becoming lost in his own thoughts than speaking to Zhongli's direction. “Hmph, mortal etiquette is so overly complex, but… What was it…”

The former archon couldn’t help himself but remain quiet, letting his pupil be engrossed in his thoughts as he thought aloud. It was different from the ever silent yaksha, so Zhongli had no reason to stop him. If anything, he was proud of watching as he grew more comfortable to ever voice his own thoughts aloud.

“It was something regarding familial bonds, I believe.” Xiao explained, his fingers resting softly against his own chin. “Would it be… Too cold of me, to call [F/N] by her name alone? Perhaps I ought to call her ‘mother’ instead?”

Zhongli’s expression shifted, the man taking a mere moment to process the information. It was his turn of being surprised for the night it would seem, the information hitting him deep in his chest with an endearing warmth. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, ripping the yaksha out of his thoughts as he eyed him incredulously. It would’ve seemed that he really hadn’t intended on actually speaking it aloud, the tips of his ears gaining the same vivid red shade of the jueyun chili. Zhongli however, was quick to beat him to the punch and spoke before he could take anything back.

“I’m sure [F/N] would love that.” He replied, much to Xiao’s embarrassment. “In fact, I’m certain that doing so will be the quickest way to earn your spot in her heart.”  Ah, Zhongli has never recalled seeing Xiao teleport away as quickly as he did. The man was left to laugh quietly by himself, smiling as he thought back to the moment time and time again as he walked back home. Now he surely wanted to have the yaksha meet his lovely [F/N].

[earthtooz]

WELL, SINCE YOU DONT MIND~

a scenario in which reader gets writers block and xiao appears and xiao professes his undying love for us and we kiss him and hold hands and share almond tofu under the stars and we get married is a very cute idea and 10/10 plot. definitely the best idea to ever be thought of

FLUFF, xiao being xiao, reader is poet, i've never played genshin ever, i got spammed with this so much that i decided to give up and give in. @sixosix, for you, my little sibling xx

"what are you doing here? it's late." 

the sudden voice shocks you from the leather-bound notebook that you were previously writing in, so caught off guard by the intrusion that your pencil slips from your grasp, falling through the cracks of wangshu inn’s balcony. you’re about to curse out your own inability when a sudden gust of wind swirls around you, followed by a flash of blue. 

then, a pencil is outstretched towards you- your pencil, in xiao’s hand. 

“thank you,” you murmur, stunned. 

“like i said, what are you doing here?” the adeptus repeats, demanding for an answer.

retracting your legs that were previously dangling over the edge and closing your notebook with a defeated slam, he notices the look of defeat that graces your expression as you look out at the horizon.

“i’m trying to find inspiration for a new poem,” you murmur. “although i wasn’t very successful, i thought coming up the wangshu inn might have inspired me. sorry for overstepping on your turf.”

glancing up and meeting his golden eyes, you ignore the heavy pounding of your heart and pressurising of your blood rate; two feats that only xiao was able to accomplish. 

unlike your internal meltdown, his hardened expression doesn’t change with your complaints, in fact, xiao doesn’t even acknowledge them, heartlessly brushing over your predicament. “you shouldn’t be out here for much longer though, once it’s night the plagues will be out, and it’ll be dangerous.”

“i know, i know. no need to remind me.”

a beat of silence passes. you don’t make a move to get up. xiao doesn’t make a move to kick you out. instead, he takes a seat beside you, keeping his distance. “i didn’t know you write,” he mutters, the slight tilt in his voice betraying the disinterest he previously showed towards your predicament.

momentarily surprised by his curiosity, you nervously fiddle with the binder of your book. “oh, it’s just for fun,” you murmur, glancing away. “something i do to take my mind off of things.” 

he doesn’t say anything in response, the flicking of delicate paper pages fill the atmosphere instead. you wish you could peer into his mind to see what he is thinking so that you could have the easy conversations that you share with other people. however, for xiao, the only thing to discuss is nothing.

glancing aside, the unfinished almond tofu that you bought from the merchants sit beside you. as much as you’d like to finish the delicacy, your constant frustration with your inability to conjure up words diminished your appetite. there is one solution, but you feel a little foolish asking, “would you like some almond tofu?” to the blue-haired beside you sits up a little.

“i shouldn’t,” he mutters dejectedly when looking at the platter you pass to him. “you have it.”

“i can’t finish it, that’s why i offered. why don’t you help me out by finishing it for me?” you slide it across to him. 

with obvious hesitance, he complies. you look away when he takes a bite, the sight too oddly intimate and rare for some poet like you. how rewarding it is to do something for someone like xiao.

it’s silent once again as you both watch the setting sun, the colours melting into one another whilst dusk’s purple dominates and claims its turn in the sky. it takes the first star to appear before you mention leaving, especially now that the cicin’s are beginning to emerge, but more importantly, you’re surprised that xiao hasn’t told you off.

declaring your departure, xiao mimics you and stands up, tightly holding onto his spear.

“i’ll walk you home.”

“no- it’s okay!” you squeak, surprised by his decision. his golden eyes flicker to you, almost in warning that you shouldn’t argue back because he’s already made up his mind. “i shouldn’t bother you from your duties. thank you though-”

“-you don’t live far. it won’t be too inconvenient. besides, walking you home and fighting off potential demons is still doing my job.” he walks away, but not before turning over his shoulder to reassure that “i’ll protect you.”

he leads you down the inn and walks in front of you whilst leading you home, outstretching a hand in front of you whenever he thinks you might need his assistance down particular staircases or hills. you know you shouldn’t touch him, but the urge is there, and incredibly overwhelming, especially with each subtle flex of his muscles that are illuminated by the moonlight.

(you wonder if he does this with anyone else. judging by the rumours and talk that surround him, his apathy, and uptight front, you wouldn’t think so, yet here you are, being protecting by the legendary and fleeting xiao.)

the night is disturbingly silent, as if the archons had decreed that no inconvenience shall bother the two of you in this moment, but the peace is far from unwelcomed.

when your home appears in your view, you turn to face him with a reluctant smile, a little sad to leave, but very grateful for his time nonetheless.

“thank you for walking me home, xiao. i really appreciate it,” you mutter into the quiet night. 

“don’t thank me. if you ever need me, just call my name and i’ll be there,” he promises. you don’t even get to say anything in response before he puts on his mask and teleports away, all done in the blink of an eye and leaving your mind in a hurricane of questions you want answered.

for a second, you wonder if he was ever there, but the fading blue particles tell you that he indeed was.

shutting your door with a quiet click, you sigh out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding before scrambling to your kitchen table, frantically opening your book to whatever blank page you could find. 

‘i’ll protect you’. 

you definitely need to take your mind off this evening. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[wordbunch]

the fellowship tries to set you up on a date

a/n: i'm skipping the line of requests for a bit to post this for @queenmeriadoc 's birthday since it was my wife's request hihi 💛 anyway it's probably chaotic but I hope you enjoy regardless! It's platonic between you and the characters, but your crush is gender neutral ☺️

Aragorn & Boromir: now these two have sort of opposite kinds of advice and plans… while Aragorn is a very “what is meant to happen will happen” kind of romantic, Boromir likes to go out and make things happen, and they can’t really agree on how to get you together with that one person you have great chemistry with… Aragorn will hint, either in conversation with you or with your crush, that you should write a poem to each other, or just ‘accidentally’ happen to be in the same place at the same time, especially if it’s a more secluded or romantic place. And Aragorn will also somehow try to arrange this for you. Boromir, on the other hand, is more the kind to go for it and to advise you to do the same. However, rejection is SCARY so maybe you’re a bit hesitant, but Boromir certainly won’t hesitate to not-so-subtly drop your name in the conversation with your crush, or to just be like, “oh, you like them? just go and say so” … maybe it’s best to listen to both of their advice to a certain extent.

Legolas & Gimli: they might not agree on too many things, but they do agree that you should go and braid your crush’s hair, or ask them to braid yours, which can definitely turn out to be an intimate moment. but, like I said, they agree on little else - Legolas will try to get you to go on a walk in the woods with your crush, and the darker forest the better because then you have an excuse to be close to that person and be protective/be protected. Gimli would much prefer if you went and asked them if they want to practice sparring with you or help you better your sword fighting or something of the like. Actually Legolas would do an almost disastrous job when he goes to talk to your crush and drop hints that they should ask you for a walk or something… the crush isn’t even sure what Legolas is playing at, but Gimli on the other hand can be quite a sweet-talker (remember Galadriel), and he ends up smoothly persuading your crush to ask you to do something together. Furthermore, he doesn’t let Legolas live it down.

Sam + Frodo: okay they’re both maybe a little shy so they wouldn’t instantly want to pull the strings too much, directly, between you and your crush, but they’re more than willing to help you drop some hints about how you feel! Sam is definitely going to suggest to you that maybe you give flowers to your crush or cook them their favorite meal, and eventually he will, every now and then, mention your favorite flower/food/dessert to your crush in order to nudge them a little bit to get it for you. Frodo is also for sure in favor of small gifts, especially the ones that show that you know your crush and that you listen to them when they talk about their interests. Sometimes in front of that person Frodo will drop a small compliment about you like, “Oh, [Y/N] looks really lovely today, don’t you think?” overall both of them would be so supportive of you and sweet, but they wouldn’t meddle too much and try to influence the actions of your crush directly, but they will always encourage you and hype you up!

Merry & Pippin: BESTIE. good luck, that’s all I’m gonna say. Number one suggestion they’d have for you to get your crush’s attention is PULL A PRANK ON THEM. Or they would go to that person and suggest that they pull a prank on you, because why not? At one point, one of them would definitely accidentally slip up and say something among the lines of “[Y/N] really likes you” and then oops… something that they would do a lot is shamelessly compliment you in front of your crush, whether it’s your looks, humor, strength, intelligence; but you had to tell them to tone it down because it seemed like they were in love with you at one point. For sure they would somehow arrange for a little situation in which oh-so-accidentally you and your crush end up locked in the same room together or something. And you can’t even be mad when you hear them laughing from behind the door! 

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings​​​​​​ @thesolarangel​​​​​​ @silversword7000​​​​​​ @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog​​​​​​ @averys-place​​​​​​ @valkyriepirate​​​​​​ @emmaarenstarr​​​​​​ @noldorinpainter​​​​​​ @asianbutnotjapanese​​​​​​ @adamgetawaydriver​​​​​​ @fenharel-enaste​​​​​​ @ironmandeficiency​​​​​​      @starryeyedrogue​​ @dinofromspac3​​  @wisheduponastar​ @lady-of-imladris​ @frodo-cinnamonroll​

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hehe matchup time! Can I get a yandere mtmte matchup?

Decepticon matchup please. Any gender for the matchup, I don’t have a preference!

They/them pronouns. I’m also autistic but I understand if that’s too difficult to write

Likes: SPACE(I love the stars and all the different planets), art(anything from poems to sculpting to painting), archery 🏹, nature walks

Dislikes: the dark(stupid but yknow lol-), bullies and close-minded people, liars, thunderstorms and the cold

I’m known as an approachable and kind person by most. I’m pretty easy going and not one to plan ahead. I try to think positively most of the time and act as a mediator in most conflicts.

If I’m not trying to see both points of views then I’m pretty much set one side. It doesn’t happen much but if I think the persons a jerk then I will attack- lmao-

I try not to be bothered most of the time, often keeping most of my issues to myself. It’s pretty common that I bottle all of my problems until I have HUGE breakdowns. But like whatever.

I’ve had someone describe me as a golden retriever before. And tell me that I have a saviour complex so do what you will with that information.

Thank you 🙏 take ur time!

Ima be real, I'm gonna take MTMTE off of my list because I pretty much forgot all about it lol. Sorry I did my best lol

Yandere Deathsaurus X Reader

You adored space, so when you got the opportunity to go to space on an exploration mission you took it. You were so happy it was a solo mission, as socialization is sometimes difficult. Being able to relax and be yourself without the pressure of having to appeal to someone else’s standards was a dream.

Unfortunately, a huge meteor shower caused your ship to crash land into a habitable planet. Thankfully you’re pretty capable at surviving- you quickly make a shelter, find food, and anything else you’d need to survive. 

What you didn’t account for, however, was a crew of decepticons to be on the planet. When you came across a decepticon, you tried to talk your way out of it. After all of that, the decepticon still took you to his “boss”- Deathsaurus. 

Deathsaurus was at first uninterested in someone who seemed insignificant. Soon enough, he was enthralled by your odd mannerisms.The way you looked around, avoiding eye contact, to the way you gently flapped your hands when nervous.

Of course, because of his mild interest, he decided to make let you join his crew. He trusted his crew not to harm you under his orders, and he even gave you a personal room. Yes, it was an old closet, but it’s the perfect size for a tiny being such as yourself. 

As much as you wanted to, there wasn’t really a good way to contact your exploration company. Anytime you thought of a good way to get a message out or even escape while on another planet, you’d get caught. 

Eventually Deathsaurus’ patience wore thin, and he had no choice but to lock you in your room. It wasn’t until the lights went out that he learned your fear.

You banged on your door, begging to be let out. Your cries were loud and Deathsaurus immediately opened the door and scooped you up. “What’s wrong, are you injured?”

The way you clung to his huge hand was adorable to him. You trembled with fear and cried. “Dark” Was the one word you could mutter. From that day, he made sure you always had back up lights.

Soon enough you got used to the crew, even making quite a few friends. It was your unofficial job to break up fights and settle arguments. Since it was a big crew, it felt like a full time job. 

He always found it amusing how such a tiny being could argue with a being fifty times their size without worry. If there was one thing he admired about you, it was how you always stood up for others.

Since you got along well with the crew, Deathsaurus began to fall for you. You being a human didn’t bother him much- your soul was what mattered to him. He’d often carry you around on his shoulders, and grows angry if anyone misgenders you- even if it doesn’t matter that much to you. Anything about you, he will defend to the ends of the universe. Anything you want, you’ll have- you love space? You’ll see all of it. If he could, he’d catch a star and give it to you. 

Since you’re an artist, you’ll have nothing but the best supplies. It doesn’t matter how much, he has plenty of money to spend on your hobbies. Any art you make will be pinned up for everyone to see- how could he not when you made it? 

Anything  you want-clothes, precious gems, books, a whole planet? It’s all yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s “unobtainable”, he’ll find a way.

Just…don’t try and run. He hates it when you do. He can be very forgiving, but if you push him too far he knows your fears. You don’t want to be locked in your room again, do you? He’d hate to have to turn out the lights again. 

One day, he took you to a lovely planet that had a pretty star system. He had you on his thigh, letting you eat from a basket you’d brought. Deathsaurus dropped a necklace into your lap. You gently picked it up, looking at it. It was the solar system you were currently in, carefully crafted into a necklace. 

“Do you like it? I picked it out just for you, little star.”

He’s been so kind to you so far…how can you say no? After all, you’ve always been a people pleaser.