#alnaari

[patientfocusly]

[Trace] Trace my muse’s scar purposefully // the thigh scar/mark or any on the lower back/abdomen bc...Intimacy 👁

@alnaari      prompt !      He feels no shame in splaying himself out, taking up most of the bed because a) it was a big bed, and b) Keith always managed to find a way to comfortably fit against him and in comparison to Shiro, took up much less space. His head is resting on Shiro’s stomach, cheek pressed to his ribs, seemingly unbothered by the slow rise and fall of his breaths. Shiro has a hand in Keith’s hair, tracing over and over again the hairline that travels behind his ear.

Keith’s own hands have been wandering along the lower half of Shiro’s body, the thin shorts he’d donned for bed not covering much. Somehow, the light streaming in through the window seems to catch and highlight all the different shades of Shiro’s body, bring to life the myriad of scars and tattered marks he’s accumulated over the years. Of course, it had been a joint effort between him and his clone --- a fact that Shiro still struggles with, years and years on. The marks are nothing Keith hasn’t seen before, but they always seemed to fascinate him, and Shiro’s more than comfortable letting him touch and wander, though he does wonder what he’s thinking.

A thumb brushes over the large patch of paler skin that takes up a lot of Shiro’s left upper thigh, the pigmentation having never quite returned to what it had been even though it’s been years since his clone had gotten the burn. Shiro couldn’t be sure of what had exactly happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in the pieces with what Keith had told him about how he’d first found his clone . . . and the distinct hand shape of the mark tells its own story, so much so that Shiro can almost feel the heat, like his body remembers the day it had happened. Keith’s thumb traces around the scar, the calloused print registered slightly differently by new and old skin, other prints following delicately in its wake. It’s always surreal to see Keith soft in moments like these . . . or maybe it’s these moments that make him soft. Every now again, the appreciation he has for this man erupts inside Shiro, flooding his entire being with warmth and an urge to yank him close and kiss him within an inch of his life. 

He doesn’t want to interrupt Keith, though, so he stews quietly in this burning adoration, as Keith, none the wiser, trails his touch up to Shiro’s lower abdomen. There are a litany of scars across his torso, front and back, many which he knows are from the Arena, vague recollections of slashing swords and axes, close calls and mistakes that he’d never make again. There are also a couple of darker, small spots near where Keith’s head is from when Shiro had tried to cook bacon without a shirt on, and the splatters of hot oil had burned him. Another mistake he won’t be making twice but those marks would be gone by the end of the week. And as Keith’s finger eventually traces up to them, Shiro holds back a laugh, waiting for Keith to realise where the seemingly new marks had come from. ‘ Are these . . . ’ 

Shiro sniggers, and he’s been patient enough, letting Keith explore, so he gathers him up and drags him up, letting him lie pretty much on top of him. ‘ Yeah. Bacon oil scars. Pretty badass, huh ? ’

[victorlimadelta]

[ fix ] for your muse to treat mine’s injury // keith!

nonverbal | [ fix ] for your muse to treat mine’s injury

Keith comes back from extracting Shiro and everyone’s so focused on making sure Shiro doesn’t actually die this time that Keith’s face goes overlooked for a few days--but the injury is there. Not just visible, but brutal, a clean seared stripe up the right side of his face tapered to a point just below his eye. It’s raw and pink and shining, nowhere near healed, and Pidge can’t even think past the empathetic pain that runs across her jaw whenever she looks at it.

Problem is, Keith won’t focus on himself until he claws Shiro all the way back from Hell. It doesn’t stop Pidge from taking him aside and shoving a jar and a set of bandages at him. “honey and hydrocolloid dressings,” she explains. “it’ll reduce the risk of infection.” There’s nothing that can be done about the appearance, though, and the slightly unfocused look of his right eye worries her more than she can put to words.

[escapekissed]

@alnaari [ LIFT ] stepping stones

They say that Marie Antoinette said ‘Let Them Eat Cake’---but that wasn’t true. Marie Antoinette was certainly most everything we think of when we photograph starlets in velvet gowns with their hair in white curls ten feet high---she was rich, and fashionable, and by all accounts beautiful; and by even a layman’s standards, incredibly unlucky for a royal all the same: drowned in scandal and bad press that would make even the most inscrutable papparazi of today blush with distaste. (If you drew Taylor Swift on a phallus-centaur-type ostrich-horse and called her a lesbian in the same brazen, foaming breath, you would probably be canceled by at least some faction of twitter. You would at the very least start a hashtag.)

Was she out of touch? You tell Aerith. She owned a whole villa in Versaille’s backyard that was meant to always smell of fresh-baked bread, which meant she paid someone to bake fresh baked bread there, all day, everyday. Marie Antoinette liked to show all her friends that she had real chickens that laid real eggs---and thus, she paid someone, before each visit, to wipe down the eggs.

Did Marie Antoinette care about poor people? Experts say that Marie Antoinette ran into numerous orphans on her travels, laying hungry and desolate in the streets. She would feed them, clothe them, and pay to send them off to be well-educated. So, at the very least, she cared about poor people when they were right in front of her face, staring down her carriage like the barrel of a gun to shoot them out of the gutter, chicken ass-first right into high society.

Aerith supposes that’s sort of how she started out with Nadia. (She can practically smell the yeast rising now. Thinking of it now, idly, she supposes baking bread all day isn’t a bad gig, though it would get rather boring.)

Nadia saw something special in Aerith’s sweat-and-dirt encrusted face and grimy nails. The dusty pink dress, the hard-calloused fingers. Nadia had been looking for someone in particular----a tarot reader, and although Aerith did not entirely fit the bill and had only done amateur readings herself, she was perfectly happy to lie to make her way into the Countess’s castle, for a roof over her head, and a garden---a real garden---where she could plant to her heart’s content.

Nadia had given Aerith all she had ever wanted. She seemed to find Aerith’s peculiarities, her quirks, her sly people-pleasing tricks that sometimes bordered on teasing and sometimes bordered on bitter----all very charming and quaint. The countess treated Aerith like a Princess. And beyond all those traits that Aerith had shown nearly all her supposed ‘betters’---and the Countess was more a supposed ‘better’ than anyone, wasn’t she, so Aerith did put on quite the show---Aerith had no idea how to be treated well and kindly. Especially over a lie, though Nadia had become quite fond of her tarot readings, and took them to heart, much to Aerith’s deepening guilt and dismay.

Nadia offers Aerith her hand to step over a puddle in the gardens. The storm looming on the horizon overhead seems to speak of what Aerith remembers of the tensions in the streets. Aerith herself had been quite vocally anti-royal, before she met The Countess. Now her old friends sell papers for pennies, in which Aerith’s huge head swims in diamonds, covered in expensive furs and suspicious lipstick kisses.

They put the Princess de Labelle’s head on a spike outside dear old Marie’s window to taunt her during her period of house arrest. Another insult to pile on to the numerous triggering allegations against her, the death of her supposed lesbian lover----it was her fault, according to the revolutionaries who made sure she saw it. Aerith supposes, at least, in her final moments, Marie knew she did have some part to play in it at all, however briefly. Out of touch though she might have been, always playing defensive as she tailored her image and her household and her hair as best she was able, given the circumstances... her last words were an apology to her executioner.

“Sorry,” Aerith says aloud, when she realizes she has not yet taken The Countess’s hand. “I didn’t mean to...” She trails off. “Make you wait.”

[forgedpath]

“Why are you here?” // from keith! also, hi 👀

        She cannot answer at first. She’s frozen to the spot across from him, her world suddenly unstable under her own feet from his sudden appearance. How had the Blades even found her? She was so careful to stay off the radar of any of the Galra factions. She thought she’d made it absolutely clear that she wanted NOTHING to do with any of them....

        Blue hues flicker upwards to gauge the weight within the other’s gaze behind the safety of darkened helmet visor but finds it is TOO HEAVY for her to bear. Acxa’s attention returns to the floor between them, the smallest dip of her helm the only clue as to the direction of her gaze. Lips purse as something unseen wraps around her throat and CONSTRICTS the air from her lungs. Her words are strangled away from her, lost to the quiet that drags on between them. Acxa draws in an unsteady breath that is barely picked up by the transmitter inside her helmet before she forces herself to push past the UNEASE brought upon by his company and pulls off her helmet. She shakes out the lengthening strands of navy hair from her face before boldly meeting the gaze of the Blade, one brow quirked impatiently. 

        “ I'm working. ” she replies curtly, portraying nothing but matter of fact. The weight of the bounty puck hidden inside her side pocket reminds her of said reason for being on this nowhere scrap heap of a planet. But then there is a sudden quirk of one corner of her lips as her mind focuses on a side thought -- she’s here on a JOB, but what could a Blade of Marmora be doing so far out into the Outer Rim? There’s the faintest impression of a blossoming AMUSEMENT in the way she smirks at him, confidence established now that she feels she has an EDGE over him.

        “ Why are you here, Blade? ”

[gunebirakilan]

Üzerinizdeki bakışlara bakın. Bakın ki, dost ile düşman olanı ayırın.

dalgınım.

Sf.74 Albayım Beni Nezahat ile Evlendir - İlhami Algör

[neosluna]

💏 a kiss from that meme if u want to as well but a kiss from him regardless!! 💏💏💏

A meme I didn’t do but Isa is always down to give Lea kisses >D.

          They had been just goofing around through the apartment, mostly just to get used to the space on a day where they didn’t have anything else they had to do. Isa wasn’t exactly going to complain about it.

          At one point, Lea tried to lift him and, much to Isa’s surprise, he was actually able to lift the enough that his feet were off the floor. But it didn’t last long, instead Lea tried to walk back toward the couch until his knees hit the back of it. He tried to turn to ‘throw’ Isa onto it, only for them both to topple over onto it.

          Lea was laughing, and Isa was shaking his head, and he looked at him with curiosity on what he might have been thinking. Isa raised a brow at him and he reached a hand out to pap Lea’s cheek. What a goofball, but at the same time Lea’s laughter was contagious, and a noise that Isa loved to hear.

         With a bit of a wiggle - since Lea was still holding onto him - Isa managed to turn in his arms and was now half laying on top of him. He smiled a bit, and as Lea tried to sit up properly since they were only half on the couch. Isa carefully kissed him in an affectionate manner, pressing into it.

          Lea of course, returned it, and Isa was more than happy to shift onto Lea’s lap, pressing his knees on either side of him for support. Isa shamelessly pressed more of his weight into him and, readily, tried to deepen the kiss. Lea was, thankfully, returning all of it. Isa was very pleased, and kept it going until he needed to stop to gather his breath. He couldn’t help touching him over and over, which Isa liked to believe Lea was relishing in.

[destinysthralls]

alnaari said:💏 :3c [ KISS MEME. protip listen to ‘don’t think twice’ while reading this lmfao ] - @alnaari

There’s a moment before every kiss---where it feels like the world is about to end. It’s not the rise of the wave of a tsunami---it’s the moment where you look down at the rain-soaked beach and see no water at all. Anxious anticipation, unsatiable curiosity. Do you follow the ocean? Step after step, mile after mile, searching for your lost breath just to drown in it when the wave finally falls? It’s too tall to see, and too far away---but it’ll glide into a crash that will almost certainly take your life, body and soul. There’s a voice inside you, screaming, to run the other direction. To look away from their eyes---in every shade of brown and black and blue and green and gold---and step back and think clearly, give an answer to the question they’ve silently been asking you this whole time that makes sense.

---Do you love me? Xemnas’s hands shake as he takes off his Captain’s hat, peels his fingers through the ruffles of his shirt.

---Can you love me? Xemnas licks the marks his fangs left on Axel’s wrists, hums against his skin, a purr as gentle as a house cat’s. He nurses Axel’s wound with the lap of his tongue, so gentle, so kind, despite being the one to have bitten him. If Axel didn’t know better---If Axel didn’t know better---

---Do you love me as much as you love him? Fang’s eyes are closed, her head tossing to and fro as she drinks and smiles and laughs. But she holds Gladio’s hand just a little too tight. Knocks into his shoulder too hard---just to make sure he knows she’s real, she’s just as real as anybody else he’s ever loved before.

---How much do you love me? Ardyn toys with the coins in his hands---Axel’s pay for another job well done. It pays to be the boss’s favorite pet. He reaches out his hand, only to clench the hand holding the coins into a fist and slam it down on his desk. “Ah, ah, ah.” He leans forward, pushing out his cheek. He smiles, smug and sleazy, tracing a cute little heart on his cheek out of scourge. He taps it twice, expectant.

---Do you love me enough? Zack runs his fingers against the back of Axel’s palm, a stroke of sensation. They might be Nobodies. But there’s something there. Something more than Xemnas is telling them. There has to be. Zack wants to prove it so badly. Zack wants Axel to help him prove it.

---Do you love me too much?  Ignis holds Gladio’s cheek in his hands, strokes his thumb over his lips. They have a duty to their King, one that’s kept them from each other for years out of loyalty and fear. Ignis’s lips quiver. The flames of their campfire are as bright as the stars.

---Do you still love me?  Fang holds her rapier under Gladio’s chin. He’s tied to the bed, because of course he is. He’s a prisoner and a spoil of war, regardless of their friendship, regardless of their feelings, and he attempted to abandon his Captain when he found that out. Did he really think this would be so easy? That Fang was just going to let everything go? She pulls back her sword and kneels over him, digging her heel into his chest, and smiles as she did when she won every one of their game’s as children. The same glint of fang in her smile, he might not remember her---but she remembers everything, everything, and it hurts.

---Will you love me forever? Will you love me in sickness, in health? Will you love me when I’m angry, when you’re hurt? Will you love me for all my days and through the night? Will you be there in the morning? Will you be there through the storm?

The questions stack up, plucked from the shore like so many cups of water. There’s no wading through it now. You have to answer.

Lips part. Necks crane. Heads tilt.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, whatever it takes to stop the pounding in your head and chest, whatever it’ll take to shut you up and make you kiss me back.

You dive in. And let salt water fill your mouth. And pour into your lungs.

[towardsbrightness]

@alnaari @zackfiar @gunmyth

& * ･ﾟ ◞   ꒰   💌   ꒱   but can you slow down i'm feeling haunted ↝  ❪ alnaari ❫ 

& * ･ﾟ ◞   ꒰   💌   ꒱   we could steal time just for one day ↝  ❪ zackfiar ❫ 

& * ･ﾟ ◞   ꒰   💌   ꒱   even if saving you sends me to heaven ↝  ❪ gunmyth ❫

[patientfocusly]

“Name it. I’d give it up for you.”

@alnaari      prompts !     The things is, Shiro knows this. Promises from Keith aren’t just words; he knows that whatever Keith says, he means. And Shiro knows he means this, because he’s already proven it. Time and time again.

Fingers gripped around the hilt of a dagger, the only thing embedding Keith to anything remotely gravitational while his other hand wrapped tightly around the wrist of someone who looked like Shiro and acted like Shiro and as far as Keith could know, was Shiro . . . prepared to give up everything rather than give up him.

Shiro hadn’t asked. The thing is, Shiro would never ask.

“You don’t have to give up anything for me.” Especially not your life. Hand reaches out, drags him close, fingers tuck away a lock of hair so Keith can’t hide behind it. ‘ I know we don’t exactly have the best track record, but our story doesn’t have to be one of sacrifice. I’d really like for it not to be. ’ He smiles, dipping his head to press his nose against Keith’s cheek, a half kiss ghosting over his lips. ‘ Go. I’ll be here when you get back. ’

[victorlimadelta]

i was tagged in this like two weeks ago sorry

PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER!

ONE  -  ( ALIAS / NAME )  • delta TWO  -  ( BIRTHDAY ) • september 21 THREE  -  ( ZODIAC SIGN )  •  sun virgo (libra cusp), moon gemini, rising sagittarius, venus scorpio, ruled by cancer FOUR  -  ( HEIGHT ) •  5′4″ FIVE  -  ( HOBBIES ) •  wait do i need to list five hobbies? uhh. elder scrolls (general lore and v: skyrim). bullet journaling. modded minecraft. fandom bullshit. animal crossing: new horizons. SIX  -  ( FAVORITE COLOR )  •  jewel tones, emeralds and sapphires and amethysts SEVEN  -  ( FAVORITE BOOKS )  •  actually i'm quite a fan of the work of oliver sacks, a now-deceased neurologist who wrote extensively on neuropsychology. his case studies are amazing. EIGHT -  ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO )  •   bury me face down - grandson NINE  -  ( LAST FILM OR SHOW WATCHED ) •  voltron s2e11 TEN  -  ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE )  •  if i can't hear pidge's dialogue in bex taylor-klaus's voice, i'm not writing it right. pidge also reminds me quite a lot of a smol green nerd from a fandom i was in about ten years ago, so that's just a little bonus easter egg if you recognize that. the reason why pidge is taking up the role of team medic is because i personally know way too much about medicine and it's technically science so i'm putting it on her. ELEVEN  -  ( STORY BEHIND URL ) •  it's just 'vld' in nato. pidge was a communications officer and would know the acronym.

TAGGED BY: @alnaari TAGGING: @palidinus @awkwardxmon @we-are-strcng

[escapekissed]

@alnaari​ [ AXEL & GLADIO ]  “ careful now , this could get ugly . ”

“You? Ugly? Never.”

Special Agent Gladio Amicitia is keenly aware of the knife strapped to Axel’s garter, shown plainly through the pleating hike of the exquisite silk robe he’s wearing, that seems to rip all the way up to the soft curve where the side of his thigh meets his hip. It reveals far more than the dagger, but the dusky gleam of the blade reflecting the room’s dim lighting is what he should be focusing on, and not warm bronze skin and long, thick legs (soft, he imagines, to the touch, despite rampant muscle and scarring, and, he imagines, it would feel like the textured robe on his hands if he allowed himself to feel anything save embarrassment at his wandering mind at all). But he’ll keep this fight above the waist if he can help it, thank you very much.

The outfit is a parting gift from the mistress of the politician Axel just murdered, in a very long, pearled string of murders that led Gladio all the way here. She was a French woman with curls that she stacked so delicately and intricately on her head that talking to her and looking at her too long reminded Gladio of eating junk food and watching shows about wedding cakes with Iris. Always the mistress, never the bride, Clarisse Beauovoir's eyes sparkled like the diamonds she collected in her walk-in closet; and shined blue like the deepening bruises she couldn’t quite manage to cover up these days. Iris would always say that the groom never deserved all the planning the bride puts into the wedding. Gladio almost understood why Axel had murdered him.

The politician lies dead in the other room, and it was a altogether bloody affair---but Axel has not a drop on him, not a firey red hair out of place, the only sign of any strain at all in his demeanor is that instead of simply taking out the knife in the boot of his heel or the knife on his thigh, he eyes the one on the pink, glossy table between them. As if he’s not completely confident he could take Gladio on in a fair fight. 

(Gladio thinks he could. Gladio thinks they both may have met their matches, in fact, putting aside that that’s what Axel reminds him of, the firestarter, thermal energy laying in wait in the shadows------always ready to pounce and worm and claw and light itself into existence, kinetic, sensual, gripping, feeling. As if Gladio wanted to feel anything other than shame or a chase with no proper conclusion, always waiting himself in the dark.)

It’s funny. That Gladio is the one covered in blood right now. That makes Axel a better assassin / serial killer than Gladio is in fact a detective. It’s just his hands, and little trembling stains on his suit and tie, from when the world seemed to go out of focus when he was examining the body, when his gloves felt too thick and the body seemed too far away and he needed to feel what had been done to a man that he arguably hated in theory at least, and the man who had done it, who he didn’t know how truly to feel about. 

Gladio’s strong, calloused fingers pressed into the wound as if he was the one who had marked him, as if he was the one who had stabbed the blade into his back in the dark and seen thick, milky dark red bungee off his cracked sternum, literally broken-through heart, naked skin. 

It was intimate, Gladio knew. The politician had just gotten out of the shower, and he was wet, his pale skin glowing, scrubbed, raw & pink. Gladio could’ve stayed like that forever, touching and mad, but he heard the radio in the other room, saw the light in the budoir shine through the crack where the door doesn’t quite meet the frame, and all the sudden sitting in the dark didn’t seem so appealing.

It’s still playing. La Vie En Rose. On repeat, at least in Gladio’s head.

(Hold me close, and hold me fast. The magic spell you cast. This is la vie en rose...)

This is intimate, too. Gladio holds Axel’s eyes for as long as he’ll let him. Doesn’t so much as move from the spot, doesn’t reach for the knife in front of them.

His hand is wet, and the blood the clang to it was not so thick, almost pink, petallike in its thin gel. He closes it into a fist, and it squishes, like soap suds, like squeezed grapefruit fruit.

“Let’s try to talk this through. Aren’t you surprised to see me?”

[serenaxluna-a]

may I present @alnaari​'s last two brain cells 

[voxvulgi]

HOW DO YOU FEEL IN LOVE?

You are the sun, the way it burns and brightens all at once.

You have only ever known how to love with everything you have. You're all fire and passion and everything is so so intense but it's beautiful. You're beautiful. Your love may sting and no one expects it to last but you do. Because you can't let it go, and you don't want to. Love means everything to you, and it should. Because love is the only thing in this life more beautiful than you are.

tagged by: @the-darkening-sky tagging: @alnaari @ribbedxgloves @dolceclavier @olivierperrier @diviinitatis​ and anyone who wants to!

[destinysthralls]

@alnaari [ WELCOME TO THE ZOOONE. AU ZONE.]

SPIRITED AWAY AUs

ignis/gladio : ignis is a poor bathhouse worker with dreams of leaving, gladio is a benevolent spirit of victory who offers to take him away if he wins against him in a battle. they enjoy a long pining relationship where ignis tries to win against him by getting stronger in between taking care of clients. they grow fond of each other, gladio coming back often over a period of like hundreds of years.

ardyn/axel/[xemnas/fang/my gladio/snow/serah] OR [vanille/zack/aerith] : ardyn owns the bathhouse, ‘axel’ is a human who forgot their name and their best friend long ago when he entered a sugar daddy esque relationship with axel and axel got everything he ever dreamed of---save his best friend and his real life and autonomy over his own life. xemnas (or fang, or my gladio, or snow, or serah), is a minor god who falls for him and tries to get him out of the relationship for his own god. 

altenatively vanille/zack/aerith are bathhouse workers who were friends with ‘axel’ when he was a good thousand years younger, and saw his discent into not caring about his past, and want to get their friend back to the way he was when he was still clinging to humanity and also THEY LOVE HIM.

kairi & axel : basically this just follows the plot of spirited away but kairi is chihiro and axel is lin lmfao

PIRATE AUs

xemnas/axel: i want to continue THE DYNAMIC WE HAVE GOING always and forever until i die.

fang/gladio: she’s a pirate, he’s a navy officer, but they were childhood friends once. even tho fang was just the daughter of a serving girl who served his noble house, they played together when his parents weren’t looking. she loves him but it’s not meant to be. her mother dies after the amicitias fire her bc she cant find anymore work. fang was forced to become a pirate. gladio joined the navy to escape a loveless engagement to a girl he’s never spoken to. they are forced to go up against each other in battle. instead of killing him as the navy thinks she does, she takes him in a heals him from near-death. he thinks she’s being kind---but it ends up being for a price. he can never go back. his life belongs to her now. she loves him still, like she did when they were kids, but it’s complicated now. bonus points: when they were little she hadn’t come out as trans yet, and she’s unrecognizable to him now except for her nickname and her smile, but he doesn’t see that often.

ardyn/axel / ardyn&axel: ardyn is a cursed pirate ghoul that tries to convince axel to become king of the pirates, despite axel not wanting that kind of responsibility at ALL. he doesn’t know it’s for nefarious purposes, mainly that axel’s the very pirate ardyn predicts to end civilization as the world knows it. up to u if axel minds that.

GREEK AUs

ardyn/gladio/ignis: basically ardyn is calypso and gladio is odysseus? this could take a darker turn where gladio tries to leave the island and it turns into a labyrinth of trials of sorts, with gladio trying to get home to the chocobros. gladio’s trying to get home to his husband ignis so we could do some flashbacks of that and stuff lol

vanille/gladio: vanille is a muse, gladio is an artist. ‘nuff said.

aerith/gladio/ignis/ignis: gladio falls in love with a stranger, paints his image perfectly, and then prays haphazardly to the goddess aphrodite that he could meet a man so perfect. aerith (aphrodite) falls hard for him at the romantic gesture, and knowing that the real ignis could not be so perfect as gladio’s painting or romantic ideas of ignis, brings the painting to life. through trials and tribulations gladio is forced to take care of the fake ignis with aerith (who is the goddess aphrodite in half-baked disguise)... but THEN GLADIO MEETS THE REAL IGNIS BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES. a comedy of errors.

fang/gladio: fang is medusa---gladio is a blind knight who tries to defeat her and instead gets lost in her cave. they fall in love.

CRIME AUs

fang/axel: fang and axel were next door neighbors growing up that both fell in with the same wrong crowd. they rose through the ranks of the gang until axel went to some fancy university overseas and just... didn’t come back. when fang finds axel again, it’s in a whole nother state while she’s on a “business trip.” it turns out axel is now a professional type, a teacher to a bunch of brats. he’s too good for that (or too bad for that, whatever you want to call it), and she forces him back into a life of crime by any means necessary, getting some of his students accidentally involved in the process.

aerith/gladio: aerith is an ecoterrorist gang member, gladio is a cop that is forced to break up a non-violent protest that ends up turning violent bc of the cops presence. aerith gets put in lock-up, and ends up teaching gladio that acab. he ends up joining AVALANCHE (her gang).

[xemnas/ardyn]/axel: serial killer au based off of hannibal but with no cannibalism! ardyn is a serial killer who is also a therapist, axel is a behavioral analyst who ends up taking him on as a therapist while he gets back into some bullshit. negative results, lots of religious imagery lol

xemnas/gladio: serial killer au based off of killing eve! xemnas is an assassin, gladio works for an underground agency to take him down. sexual tension and FASHION.

[xemnas/ardyn]/axel: xemnas is a crime boss, axel works for him. nope i REALLY don’t have more than that.

vanille/ ur gladio & my gladio: pulp fiction & fight club mash-up. vanille is gladio’s crime boss’s favorite sex worker. he ends up helping her when she overdoses, but after that night, he starts seeing things. primarily himself, or, a clone of himself, or something like that, that claims to be his long lost twin brother. and he DID have a twin brother, but his twin brother died when he was a kid, and gladio always blamed himself for that, but now he’s here, and he’s kind of nice, and he’s helping him take over this gang, and also gladio is doing a fuckton of drugs, and also flirting a lot with the crime boss’s girl, and it’s very complicated and good.

SUPERHERO AUs (this is gonna be the last section because i’ve made so many aus but also i have so many more ideas please ask me about them aljfdlsjfdklsjf):

kairi & axel : spider-verse. kairi is miles and axel is peter b.

okay this is too many aus i’m stopping now lajfdkjfkdsljfks

[palidinus]

✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) // keith!

“Stay still. Don’t overexert yourself or your sutures’ll tear.”

There’s a weary tinge to his tone when his left hand reaches out, splayed carefully over Keith’s wrapped chest to guide him into the arched bed he’s been, up until now, resting unfitfully in.

They’d been at this for a week now— stretching themselves beyond their limits to excavate and extract the wounded and dead prisoners left by their respective Galran sovereigns.

There were going to be injuries, that was bound to happen, but it was one thing carrying a fellow soldier back to his barracks and another entirely cradling the one person your soul conjoins with most, bleeding in your arms to your own assigned alien warship.

It’s asking a lot of himself to hold on with Keith at the mercy of their pursuers.

It’s beyond expectation for him to keep himself held accountable with Keith writhing the IV lines out of his arms and inner wrists, frantically tearing EKG pads from all parts of his mangled body.

It’s natural for him to bend that assumption in half anyway.

His eyes search the violet pair that helplessly mimic them from below, drilling questions he already knows the answers to.

Why?

For the greater good.

[towardsbrightness]

make your muse into a terrarium / biggs.

tagged by @rosaguard​ ❤️❤️ tagging: @niflim​ , @rcdwrxck​, @turkthis​ @hollowedtune​ @alchemic-elric​ @alnaari​